[ caring more than he should is what gets cassidy into trouble. it's dangerous to care too much in what is quite literally a cutthroat trade. everything is temporary in a pirate town. people appear and disappear like castles in the sand, and all the time you spent cultivating a relationship can be dissolved in an instant by the ocean. and god forbid you let your guard down around anyone. if someone you trusted betrays you, it's your fault for trusting them in the first place. that's not to say cassidy doesn't have people he trusts, but they're a small group, and their bonds were formed over time by blood, sweat, and tears. he gives the impression of trusting the rest of his crew, enough to get them to trust him in return, but in truth he trusts most of them as far as he can throw them.
casual is better. casual is easier. he's very much like john, or the way john used to be, changing bed partners as often as the tides change. when he was younger, his mother entertained the idea of him settling down with a nice, respectable girl one day and having a family. she'd even had a particular girl in mind up until the day he left. the thought of settling down, of having a family, of having anyone that ties him to shore, interests him as little now as it did then. maybe one day he'll grow out of it, but it's just as likely he'll be dead before that day ever comes. and then he'll be someone's lost connection.
a pirate isn't meant to be moored, or so he tells himself. and as long as he doesn't dwell on the comfort and familiarity he feels in john's presence, he can keep telling himself that. as long as it's always fun, what's the harm?
and even as he complains, swearing a blue streak about john's unbearable teasing, it is fun. it's a game, and games are meant to be fun. whatever string of curses cassidy might've uttered next are aborted when john covers his mouth with his, and by that point john's fucking him properly with his finger, eliminating his need to complain any further.
instead, he moans into the kiss, pushing back as john thrusts forward. a smile curves his lips, forcing him to break the kiss for all of a moment, and in the space he mutters, ] You fucking bastard, [ in response to be chided for his language, but it's wrapped in a playful tone. he rekindles the kiss, just as hungry for it. heat races down his spine and coils at the bottom, the glide of skin against highly sensitive skin glorious. he realizes he's half-hard again and doesn't know when that happened. he becomes aware when his cock twitches as the second finger is added, and he feeds another pleased noise into john's mouth. though john seems to be giving him control of the kiss or perhaps because of it, the kiss is sloppy. cassidy has very little control over what his body is doing anymore. even the way his fingers squeeze john's is unconscious.
and when john gives that instruction, the tone of his voice tugs on something in cassidy's chest and suddenly it doesn't feel so much like a game anymore. he lets out a breath, his heart hammering for no good reason, and then slides his knees out from under him and turns onto his back. his eyes never leave john's face. despite the change in tone, he still tries to joke, ] Going to fuck me like a proper woman?
huffs
casual is better. casual is easier. he's very much like john, or the way john used to be, changing bed partners as often as the tides change. when he was younger, his mother entertained the idea of him settling down with a nice, respectable girl one day and having a family. she'd even had a particular girl in mind up until the day he left. the thought of settling down, of having a family, of having anyone that ties him to shore, interests him as little now as it did then. maybe one day he'll grow out of it, but it's just as likely he'll be dead before that day ever comes. and then he'll be someone's lost connection.
a pirate isn't meant to be moored, or so he tells himself. and as long as he doesn't dwell on the comfort and familiarity he feels in john's presence, he can keep telling himself that. as long as it's always fun, what's the harm?
and even as he complains, swearing a blue streak about john's unbearable teasing, it is fun. it's a game, and games are meant to be fun. whatever string of curses cassidy might've uttered next are aborted when john covers his mouth with his, and by that point john's fucking him properly with his finger, eliminating his need to complain any further.
instead, he moans into the kiss, pushing back as john thrusts forward. a smile curves his lips, forcing him to break the kiss for all of a moment, and in the space he mutters, ] You fucking bastard, [ in response to be chided for his language, but it's wrapped in a playful tone. he rekindles the kiss, just as hungry for it. heat races down his spine and coils at the bottom, the glide of skin against highly sensitive skin glorious. he realizes he's half-hard again and doesn't know when that happened. he becomes aware when his cock twitches as the second finger is added, and he feeds another pleased noise into john's mouth. though john seems to be giving him control of the kiss or perhaps because of it, the kiss is sloppy. cassidy has very little control over what his body is doing anymore. even the way his fingers squeeze john's is unconscious.
and when john gives that instruction, the tone of his voice tugs on something in cassidy's chest and suddenly it doesn't feel so much like a game anymore. he lets out a breath, his heart hammering for no good reason, and then slides his knees out from under him and turns onto his back. his eyes never leave john's face. despite the change in tone, he still tries to joke, ] Going to fuck me like a proper woman?