#it was totally silver's fault the hand on hip is incriminating

[methodwriting]

pov: gay couple hit your parked car and they're gaslighting you into paying for the repairs

[olga-eulalia]

I’m taking a break from thinking about a Sleeping Beauty AU and looking at my scattered .txt notes instead and there’s a fucking SilverFlint tailorshop AU dated Spring 2017 that I have no memory of drafting and I don’t know whether to be surprised by any of this or what.

“I find myself in need of a new waistcoat and a pair of new breeches.” Their seams had been let out once already and wouldn’t yield more fabric now. "Since these have come to be a bit tight."

"So they are.” Silver’s tone was sympathetic.

I can only assume that the other 5000 words are an attempt to cover up the fact that I only wanted to write one scene in which young Lieutenant James McGraw blushes uncontrollably while Silver takes his measurements. [more snippets, some nsfw, below cut]

But no, apparently not. Because I totally glossed over that moment.

“I’ll have to redo both inseams here,” Silver said, startling him. “If you are to wear these breeches on duty you’re going to want more ease.”

“Of course.”

“It’ll only take a minute,” Silver assured him.

^ Did I want to save it for this scene? The fitting? No, I pan away there, too.

“I’m sure you’ve got some stories of your own to tell?” Silver said, untying the pincushion around his arm.

“Sure,” James said. A sudden lightheadedness made him heedless of the fact that stepping down from the platform brought him almost chest to chest with Silver. “But most of them are very... nautical. I don’t know whether they’d be to your taste.”

“You’d be surprised.”

They looked at each other then and, as the clock on the mantelpiece would attest to, did little else for quite a while.

“I have a lunchtime engagement,” James said, in lieu of kissing John Silver.

There’s a twist in this fic that I did not see coming I’m losing my mind

"I need to ask you something that may be of a delicate nature.”

“Please. I’m not the delicate sort.”

“Since I've been coming here... have there been any inquiries made about me?"

"Three, as a matter of fact," Silver said, never stopping in his sewing. "You're a much wanted man, it seems."

The casualness of Silver’s delivery was outrageous and James’s palms turned cold and clammy as he clenched his hands.

It only confirmed what he had always believed about some of his fellow officers: That they were the rotten offspring of spineless scum who would not hesitate to use any possible means to elevate themselves above others. From the start they had guessed that there was something different about him -- he could see it in their faces sometimes, their struggle to pinpoint what exactly it was that caused their dislike -- and so they’d eventually stooped to these methods.

James's heart was beating in such a rapid tempo that he thought keeping his temper in check might very well make him faint this time.

He had indeed suspected that part of the reason Rackham’s could offer the prices it did was because it sold its clients' information for profit. Which made the circulation of any incriminating gossip at least partially the fault of his own unwillingness to abandon an improbable fantasy.

But Silver was not finished yet. "I told the first gentleman, in no uncertain terms, the same thing I told the others. That I'd never entertained a customer less inclined to such proclivities and that I couldn’t fathom why he’d ever think he’d have a chance with someone like you in the first place."

James's heartbeat stumbled, no longer fully convinced of its ire.

"You were right to assume that such inquiries are not uncommon here, James." Silver was tying up his work. "Though I believe in your case the interest of all three gentlemen was altogether genuine."

Anger and fear left him in a rush. “Pardon?” The idea of there being others like him in his circle of acquaintances made him sit in stunned surprise and the fact that Silver had not only protected James’s privacy, but also purposefully squashed any potential chance he might have had with these gentlemen left him feeling quite flushed.

With a nimble trick, Silver transferred himself from the armchair onto the sofa. Holding out the mended garment, he asked, "Do you wish to discover their identities?"

Resurfacing from deep within his thoughts, James found Silver’s eyes. "No," he said. "No, I don't."

"Good. Because I'm not inclined to share." Silver held his gaze. "You."

 🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿 Alright, now I’m kind of into this.

“Tell me, lieutenant, are all your approaches so timid?” he asked, unbuttoning the waistband of James’s breeches in a most casual manner, then moving on to loosen the drawstring at the back. “Because I heard something very different about you.”

“And what would that be?”

“That your manoeuvres are wont to leave your opponents weak-kneed.”

“I’m sorry.” James frowned, wondering since when such an abundance of gossip was circulating about him. “I wasn’t aware we were engaged in battle.”

Silver gave him a lopsided grin.

Inspired by its slyness, James slid his hand higher up, over Silver’s crotch, excited to feel Silver’s cock move when he squeezed it. “Besides, I wasn’t planning on making this a quick defeat.”

^ lol ok I’m never allowed to write banter again.

The ribbon at the back of Silver’s head had come undone and his hair was curling wildly about his face and over his shoulders. The friendly gleam in his eyes had disappeared, driven out by voracity. He seemed to be transforming right in front of James’s eyes, his appearance as a meek and proper tailor relegated to a distant past.

^ Is this another twist?? I don’t know what I was going for here! Was Silver going to be the personification of something???

“Don’t,” James warned.

“Don’t what?”

“I’m gonna ruin all your hard work if you don’t slow down.”

“That’s-” Silver’s eyes twinkled with delight. His lashes grew heavy. “That’s very flattering.”

“Don’t pride yourself. I haven’t really all that much. Not on board.”

“Are you telling me that you’re stuck on a ship full of men for months and won’t let any of them near you? Is being a member of your crew some kind of particularly cruel punishment? All these poor bastards, lying awake at night in their hammocks, cursing you, your handsome face, your stunning body,” Silver said, rearing up and nipping at James’s chin with his teeth. Then, looking James over, his face took on a mollified expression. “And here you are, between my legs, blushing like a debutante. Fuck, James, you’re too much.”

Silver kept stroking drop after drop of James’s lust to the surface and smoothing it down the length of his hot, hard shaft, aggravating the hurt. Squeezing the head of James’s dick, dabbing at the moisture his thumb, he said, marvelling, “You’re giving me so much slick that I could fuck you with it.”

“Stop talking. Please,” James gasped out, already so close.

“I think I’ll let you have my fingers,” Silver said. “Would you like that, James?”

While the breath still shivered from James’s mouth, Silver’s free hand slipped down into the back of his drawers, strong fingers gliding between his cheeks and rubbing across his hole. The waistband of his brand-new breeches stretched frightfully like this between both of Silver’s forearms. As promised, the tip of one thick finger pushed inside him and lodged there immovably.

James keened behind closed lips, a sweet ache pulsing through him. He struggled to keep his eyes on Silver’s face as his hips fell into giving long, smooth thrusts into the fist wrapped around him. And he would have liked to savour that blissful moment very much, make it last by slowing his movements down, but Silver seemed to want to see him undone completely and sped up his hand, jerking him just as fast and sloppy as James needed it to bring him to the point of no return in seconds. His arse cheeks clenched around Silver’s fingers, his body strained with its sinews pulled taut, and his hips pumped mindlessly, jolting forward as he shot out his seed, spilling into Silver’s hand and over both their clothes.

He silenced himself in the crook of Silver’s neck, nestling his face into the fragrant locks there, and for a mad second fancied himself looking at the summer night sky over the southern coast of Cornwall.

Possibly.

Silver was petting his head. “Did you enjoy that?”

James felt like a spit of storm-ravaged rock. Too exhausted to find offence at Silver’s self-satisfaction, he pulled back and rested his weight against Silver’s side, following with interest how Silver pulled off his cravat, opened his pearl-studded button cuffs and then started to unfasten the front of his black waistcoat with his usual deftness before sitting up to shrug out of the garment and pull off his shirt.

James’s breath stopped. Silver’s torso was beautifully marked. Across his abdomen, a ship and a star. On his left side, high on the curve of his ribcage, a swallow adorned his skin. But the most riveting picture of all was that of two large Tritons posing on either side of his chest, holding up an empty banderole that echoed the slope of his collarbones. James’s fingers traced the shape of them, their scaly serpentine tails.

^ Hey, I remember this part! I spent a long time thinking about the perfect motto for that banderole! And it’s entirely possible that my failure to come up with a good one is what brought this fic to an untimely end.

James pressed himself on top of Silver and kissed him for long minutes, making it as filthy as Silver seemed to like. Then, sinking to the floor, he stripped Silver’s hips bare and placed his mouth over the head of Silver’s cock, taking it in one long wet slide to the back his throat. Silver punched out a breathy ohh, sprawling loose-limbed, resplendent in the rosy glow of his pleasure, a tender look in his eyes.

Ugghhhhhh I can’t believe my past self would betray me like this and end it here :(((( Now please excuse me while I take this prompt to the kinkmeme.