[We Interrupt Your Usual RP to Bring You... International Talk Like a Pirate Day!]

[kirktastic]

It was morning on the Enterprise, and it came with the slow creaking of wood deck around him, swelling in the heat of the morning, the sound of waves against the sides of the ship. Definitely a damn good way to wake up.

Even better was waking up between two warm bodies, one pressed to either side of him. On one side was his cabin boy, a young buck with a foolish head but a pleasing face and tongue. On the other, his first mate, a smug, stoic, uptight, ridiculously intelligent bastard who he had finally talked into ...sharing his bed. At least in the physical sense. He'd won the argument that the captain's bed was the most comfortable place on the ship, but anything beyond that was met with a pointed look and a reach for the sword hilt.

It was a damn good life here on the Enterprise.

He was Captain James T. Kirk of the pirate ship Enterprise, the most feared name on the open seas. He ran his crew with a mixture of charm, command, and the point of his sword. He was a good swordsman, a better brawler, and decent with a flint lock.

[OOC: This will be the ONLY pirate thread everyone, no multiple posts on multiple journals! Post just in here for this! Today only!]

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[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

Ephram answered the knock promptly. He was grateful for the privacy these quarters allowed, if he had correctly interpreted the earlier look of appraisal from the Commodore. Ephram had shed his heavy jacket, his crisp white long sleeved shirt and vest were warm enough for below decks. It also afforded a less formal atmosphere, as he was hoping this evening would be more...friendly.

"Good evening, Commodore," he said as he gestured for Nero to enter.

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

Nero inclined his head, his hat and wig cast aside for the evening along with his formal coat. He withdrew the bottle from beneath his arm and the concurrent glasses from the hand holding it, and stepped through the threshold, past the Marshal.

"And to you, yourself, Lord Ephram."

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

Closing the heavy wooden door behind himself, Ephram sighed slightly. "I'm not overly fond of my title tonight. You could address me by name...Nero."

He indicated a small table by the near wall where the bottle of ale could be set. "Perhaps a drink before chess?"

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

"Hm, very well, Ephram," Nero commented with an incline of his head and moved to the table. The glasses thudded against the wood with a minute clink and he uncapped the bottle, filling the two easily before setting the bottle aside. He clast a glance over his shoulder at the blonde and extended a glass as he took one of the two seats.

"It is a very fine vintage."

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

He liked the sound of his name. Arrogance, maybe, but it was his name after all and pride in oneself wasn't necessarily bad. He watched Nero as the commander moved. Graceful. Confident. Accepting the filled glass, he swirled the liquid slightly before taking a drink.

"It shows," he murmured, eyes not on his drink but on Nero.

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

Nero arched an eyebrow, his eyes locked on Ephram as the man's lips pressed against the glass and he tilted the crystal. Their eye contact maintained even as the long lines of Ephram's throat rippled with his swallow and the glass lowered before him.

"I'm glad you approve," Nero replied evenly and swirled his own glass before setting it back on the table. He reclined back in his chair languidly, with the grace of a man used to power, and smirked. As Ephram swirled his glass again, Nero's eyes closed. When his eyes reopened, they were fixated on Ephram's lips.

"You've missed a bit," Nero commented idly, the edge of his own tongue darting out in phantom reponse to the light film of blue on Ephram's lower lip.

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

He liked how the man reclined. He was even beginning to appreciate that smirk.

"Such quality is difficult to come by. It would be a shame to waste." Ephram let his tongue slide slowly out over his lower lip. If Nero was going to watch him...well. He took another measured drink, watching Nero through the tilted glass. When he had swallowed, his tongue darted out again to capture any remnants of liquid on his lips. "Did I miss any that time?"

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

Nero watched the man with unwaivering focus, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as Ephram maneuvered, played his gambit. His eyes drifted from the white-haired man's, to his lip, and then down the long line of his crisply dressed arm to the glass in his hand. Wordlessly, Nero drew himself out of his chair and closed the short space between them.

His eyes fell heavy on Ephram's lips, and his smirk widened at the edges. Drink and chess indeed, Foriegn Marshal. His gaze drifted and his hand closed around Ephrams. His fingers were hot and lightly calloused, and he relished the feel of the back of the man's hand. Blindly, his grip shifted and he took the small, empty glass, relieving the Marshal of its weight.

"None, in fact," Nero answered and looked up to regard the man again. "Would you care for another draught, Ephram?"

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

"I would."

Ephram leaned into Nero's personal space, if any such space was left between them now. That hand on his was warm and welcome. The eyes regarding him were dark and appraising. Ephram smirked. Nero knew how to play this game.

Slowly, wondering how much leeway he had here on the Commodore's ship, Ephram pressed closer. His breath touched Nero's lips first, scented with the Rihannsu ale and warm with promise. "A fine vintage should be...appreciated to its fullest," he murmured. Then his lips touched Nero's.

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

Nero tilted his head, sliding his mouth across Ephram's, lining them up with casual, crisp accuracy. His tongue slipped across his lips and traced Ephram's, wiping the light flavor of ale from them with a clean, meditated swipe. His grip around the glass shifted and his fingers twisted tighter around Ephram's hand--a minute sharpness, just a bare, lazy indication of intent. He pulled back slightly, allowing a whipser of air between them as his dark eyes focused on Ephram's face.

"I believe this is check," Nero commented and his smirk rose in tandem with his eyebrow. His free hand ghosted across Ephram's arm and his fingers wrapped around the white-haired man's wrist, wrinkling fine linen as he pulled them flush together.

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

Breathless from such a brief kiss, Ephram regarded Nero from under hooded eyes. His free hand slid over Nero's waist in an echo of the Commodore's gesture, feeling the muscle and power beneath fabric there. "Mmm," he said, the sound appreciative, "I believe so."

Deliberately slow, Ephram took a step, pushing Nero backward. "Well-played, to put me in check so soon." Another step. "It might take some...maneuvering" another step "to end this impasse."

A final step pushed Nero back against the cabin wall, Ephram's weight pinning but not trapping the Commodore against the wood. Chest to thigh their bodies touched, body heat seeping through cool fabric.

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

The wall was hard behind him and it swayed with the gentle rythym of the Narada II. The Foriegn Marshal was cool, deliberate, and the hand against his waist was casual at best. Nero's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression taking a light edge of irritation beneath his bemusement. The symbolic retreat was not something he'd missed, but it could be overlooked.

He leaned forward, against the white-haired man, his weight a counterpoint to the gentle roll of the ship, and extricated his hand. Nero set the glass blindly on the table beside them, and lifted his hand alongside Ephram's face. He took the man's chin between his forefinger and thumb and lifted his chin, just slightly, examining him intently.

"I believe the time for metaphor has now passed," Nero said lowly, his voice resounding deep in his chest. "Don't you agree Ephram?"

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

Silently, Ephram turned his head and took two of Nero's long fingers into his mouth, tongue dancing lazily over them. His hips pushed Nero back along the wall as the hand at Nero's waist moved to capture his other wrist and pin it against the wall beside Nero's head. If they were now finished dancing around the issue, he had several ideas in mind.

Slowly letting now-moist fingers slide from his mouth, Ephram spoke against Nero's palm, "Since we're foregoing metaphor, I'll speak plainly." He leaned in and scraped his teeth along the side of Nero's neck. Whispering in the Commodore's ear, "I'm curious how you would react if I turned you to face the wall, yanked down your breeches, and took you."

He slid a leg between Nero's, knee and thigh feeling telltale hardness. "Is that free enough of metaphor, Nero?"

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

Nero's eyes fell, half-lidded, resisting the siren call of darkness and sensation. His expression was placid, and his amusement clear as he slid his hips forward, insinuating himself, hip to hip, against Ephram. The span of the Foriegn Marshal's thigh was thick and cool between his own.

"Very much so," Nero responded, his voice unflappable. He flexed the fingers of his right hand, bringing them into a tight fist, and the hard tendons of his arm went taut beneath Ephram's idle grip. Ephram seemed determined to irk him in every way, asserting his strength in the most banal of fashions. Nero could overpower the man, and knew that well. His confidence was unshakable, but Ephram's attempts were quite fascinating.

"I should imagine," he continued with a roll of his hips, lithe and precise, against Ephram's. Sensation surged against his pelvis as he rocked against the Foriegn Marshal. He craned his head pressing his lips in kind, against the shell of the man's ear, and continued evenly, "That I would be most put out."

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

"But you're going to let me try." Not question, not statement, just words hot against Nero's neck. Their hips together rocked with the motion of the ship, sending frissions of sensation up Ephram's spine.

He released Nero's wrist and traced fingers down Nero's arm, appreciating the curve of bicep and shoulder. At the junction of neck and shoulder, Ephram tugged at the clean white collar. More skin was necessary, he decided. Licking at Nero's ear, he slowly worked at the tiny white buttons down the front of Nero's shirt.

"Would you be too put out to stop me?" His thigh grinding into the hardness between Nero's legs. Half the shirt was opened now. Ephram leaned back a moment to see the exposed chest. Palm flat, he skimmed it over the Commodore's pectorals, catching on the hardened nipples.

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

Nero drew a sharp breath, a quick and silent rise of his chest as he pulled the air through his nose. He rolled his hips down, pressing against the pressure of Ephram's thigh, and the muscles of his stomach contracted. His hands, both freed from Ephram's grip, hung in place just breifly before he put them to solid use.

"No, I doubt I would stop you, persay," Nero responded blithely, his eyes dark and intensely focused as he reached out to casually undo the buttons of Ephram's vest. The foriegn silk parted smoothly and Nero splayed it aside with one hand. The deft fingers of his other hand parted the fine linen beneath with quick, reserved motions, leaving Ephram's chest exposed. The man was not so delicate as he had presumed.

"Though," he continued and gripped Ephram's jaw again, this time far less casually. "I cannot promise my absolute compliance."

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

"Mmm, why would I want absolute compliance? Rarely any fun in that."

Ephram slid the Commodore's shirt from his shoulders. He approved of the sight; military service had done Nero well, physically. Ephram laid his mouth on an exposed collarbone, the warmth beneath his lips more intoxicating than the ale earlier. Shifting his upper body, he shrugged out of his loosened shirt. The hand not busy with teasing Nero's left nipple was headed south, to the task of dispensing with the Commodore's trousers. Heavy woolen fabric lightly scratched the back of his knuckles as he felt for the button fly.

"I could, however, return the favor for your...compliance, Nero."

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

"Could you?" Nero asked bemusedly as he arched toward Ephram's teeth, craning his head back against the wall. The sensation of cool wood at his back spurs his head forward and he refocuses on Ephram, his eyes and hands raking across Ephram's chest.

The buttons of his trousers give with an audible slide and Nero growls low in his throat, "Very well."

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

Ephram inhaled somewhat raggedly at Nero's hands on his bare chest. He traced his tongue over Nero's collarbone and down his chest, circling a nipple while the hand on Nero's trousers was finally able to reach inside to the warmth and hardness there. The vibration of his soft satisfied moan almost didn't carry over the ever-present sounds of sea permeating even this small room.

A quick shove and Nero's trousers joined his shirt on the floor in a heap of fabric. "Exquisite," Ephram murmured and straightened to kiss Nero's mouth again.

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

His pants pooled at his feet, sliding over his tall boots and Nero arched forward, Ephram's cool hand wrapped around his length. He regained himself quickly, irritation flashing across his features at his own loss of control, his hands grasped and tightened on Ephram's hips as he leaned forward into the kiss. His patience was tried by this man, and he was quite done complying in so blatantly casual a manner.

"Her Royal Highness accepts nothing less," His voice falls heavy and commanding across their lips, barely a breath between them. His fingers, suddenly less forgiving, grip tightly at the Foriegn Marshal's hips bones, his hot touch half smothered by Ephram's pants.

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

"I wouldn't dare to assume she did. But you in particular..."

He lets his voice trail off. Breathing is more difficult now, in the decreased space between them. And those hands at his hips seem to be drawing even more blood that direction, instead of remaining in his brain.

Something in Nero's voice makes Ephram need to mark him. He nips a spot on that hot neck while his hand moves in a rhythm on Nero's erection. "I was not idly bargaining before," he says. "I intend to return the same pleasures you allow."

With that loaded promise between them, Ephram grips Nero's shoulders and turns him, pressing him face first against the cabin wall. His mouth returns to nip and suck a mark on the side of the Commodore's mouth.

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

Nero's hands came up against the wood of the hull, the cool curvature creaking between his palms and the water beyond. His torso, predominantly bereft of sensation, tensed. The muscles along his extended sides and his back rippled, hard down to his hips. Flexed taut, they cast deep shadows beneath the low lamplight.

Ephram was almost against him, the heat of the man's chest all but laying atop him, and he craned his head back into the Foriegn Marshal's insistent teeth. His smirk was wide and bemused, if not impatient.

"I do not believe you bargain idly," Nero said slowly, evenly, his dark eyes cast back, able to garner the edge of the Foriegn Marshal's form in the dimness.

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

Such beauty, willing before him, even if connected to such an irritating persona. Ephram closed the slight distance between them, relishing the feel of skin on skin as his chest met Nero's back. His hand wandered blindly over Nero's chest and abdomen as his mouth moved to the muscled curve between his shoulder blades.

"I fear feeding your ego any further," he said between licks to the Commodore's shoulders, "but you are a masterpiece."

Ephram made short work of the buttons on the front of his own breeches. He rubbed his freed erection over the cleft of Nero's backside as he fumbled in his travel bag in its alcove shelf for a small vial.

[mirror-brightly.livejournal.com]

Nero half watched him, his head craned over his left shoulder, and a low sigh escaped his lips as the white-haired man pulled away. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his back, sliding himself back against Ephram's skin, warm and smooth. The erection pressed against his buttocks nudged the edge of his hip as he languidly settled.

"You make me repeat myself, sir," Nero objected in a slow, amused drawl. His fingers splayed flat against the wood and he let his head loll forward, across, and back. His gaze was heavy and his smirk positively lurid as he refocused his attention on the Foriegn Marshal. "Her Royal Highness accepts nothing less."

His torso twisted, just slightly, to grant him a better view of the man at his back--definitely not as delicate as he'd expected. The cut of his shoulders and the span of his chest was impressive. For a Federated man. Nero's own arousal throbbed at the sight of him and his smirk widened.

[ephram-green.livejournal.com]

Ephram met Nero's lurid gaze with one of his own. However their personalities might clash, this, this was...he didn't have a word. Not when so much blood had diverted from his brain. He took a long moment to peruse the Commodore's nudity in the low lamplight. Long, lean, and powerful even now. Muscled appropriately from years of sailing and swordsmanship. Ephram looked forward to any reciprocation which might be demanded of him.

Sliding a hand up that smooth, hot back, Ephram murmured, "Does Her Royal Highness personally inspect each of her soldiers?" He gripped Nero's erection once more. "To be certain that they measure up to her expectations?" His chest flush against Nero's back again, he squeezed slowly while licking at that strong column of neck.

In short measure, Ephram made use of the contents of his small vial and slid one finger inside Nero. Nudging aside dark hair, he bit the nape of Nero's neck, imagining the faint taste of copper.