Avast, Me Hearties!

“My, but you’re a pretty one. Come here, so I can take a closer look at your… considerable charms, if I may make so bold.”

He could feel the other captain’s eyes on him, assessing him, as he stood in the centre of the dimly lit cabin, shoulders back, and head held high, despite his hands being manacled together before him. Above Draco, two oil lamps swung back and forth, matching the pitch and roll of the ship. Shadows rolled across the cabin, ebbing and flowing like black waves on a midnight beach.

Draco refused to move, or even acknowledge the other man’s presence. He chose instead to stare ahead, at the dark expanse of window facing him, hoping to give the impression of being composed. Impassive.

He knew differently, of course. His heart was thumping painfully in his ribcage, his mouth was dry, and his throat had tightened to such an extent, it was difficult to swallow without effort.

Draco was isolated from his men, seemingly alone, on board the enemy's ship. An enemy with a fearsome reputation for killing all his captives. He was in a vulnerable position, and both men knew it. Fighting the urge to move back, further away from that intense gaze and into the shadows, Draco lifted his chin higher in a small gesture of defiance.

“You refuse me? How interesting. No matter, I shall come to you,” his captor said in an amused tone.

The captain of the pirate ship Revenge uncrossed his long legs, and rose slowly from his day bed. Draco could see that the man was clad in an open necked, loose-fitting, white shirt with lace cuffs, close-fitting brown breeches laced at the front, and thigh high black leather boots. Rings adorned his fingers, and he wore his dark hair tied back, a solitary gold earring clearly visible, hanging from his left earlobe. Cleaned up, he could be considered handsome, by some.

With a bottle of brandy in hand, he walked with a swagger toward Draco, slowly closing the distance between them until they were face to face. “I admire a man with spirit in the face of defeat,” the pirate remarked. His eyes glittered in the lamp light, never leaving Draco’s face, as he took a swig of brandy and set the bottle down on the mahogany desk next to him. Draco continued to stare resolutely ahead, trying to ignore him. He would show no fear in front of this blackguard.

“And what a man you are,” the pirate purred, his searching gaze continuing to roam over his captive’s body. “Usually, I offer a condemned captain a last meal with fine brandy and excellent cigars, before the trip to Davy Jones’ locker,” he observed, “but in your case…” The pirate raised a bejewelled hand and ran the backs of his fingers down the side of Draco’s face and around his jaw.

Draco could not stop himself from flinching slightly at the contact, as if the pirate’s fingers were fire brands burning into his skin. “Such soft skin,” the pirate murmured, moving perceptibly closer so that their bodies were almost touching. The intense aroma of oranges, honey and spices from the brandy filled the air between them. “Such full lips,” he said, running a nail-bitten thumb across them. “I shall enjoy tasting them later tonight.”

At this, Draco stiffened. “Take your hands off me, you filthy cur,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

The pirate captain stepped back, expression full of mock hurt. “You wound me sir. Is that any way to speak to your host?”

“Host?" Draco snorted. "You’re nothing but a common thief, a liar, a cheat and a murderer. I shall never submit to you.”

Instantly, the pirate's jovial air turned to one of menace, and he gripped Draco's jaw firmly, his fingers digging in like claws. Draco winced in pain. Leaning in, until their lips almost touched, the pirate replied in a low voice, “Who said anything about submission? I like my whores to be feisty. It makes the taking much more fun. Don’t you think?” he released Draco’s jaw, and smirked.

“I am not your whore, to be taken as and when you please,” Draco snarled and prepared to spit in the man’s face. A calloused hand clamped across his mouth, forcing him to swallow his saliva. His eyes widened slightly, as he took in the pirate captain’s leer.

“Oh no you don’t, my pretty. I can think of much better things for that tender mouth to be doing.” With that, the pirate suddenly grabbed Draco, catching him off guard, and marched him backwards until he was pinned against the panelled door of the cabin by the weight of the other man’s body.

Before Draco could collect himself, the pirate was kissing him – hard, completely dominating his mouth with his tongue, filling it with the burn of alcohol. Draco instinctively tried to pull back, but he had nowhere to go. He tensed his muscles and squirmed against the other man’s body, struggling to free his mouth from the pirate’s control. He’d be damned if he would reciprocate.

The pirate broke the kiss, and stood back, breathing harshly. “There’s no need to act like that,” he said petulantly, “it was only a little kiss." Looking at the flushed face and lust-darkened eyes of the captain, Draco realised, too late, that his struggles had only served to arouse the man further.

Grabbing the manacles, the pirate swung Draco’s arms up over his head and hooked the chain on to an iron bracket above the door – pulling his body as taut as a bow. "You craven lout. You doghearted coward. Release me!" Draco shouted, his earlier bravado vanishing. He tugged repeatedly on the chain to free himself, but to no avail. He was trapped, defenceless, completely at the other man’s mercy.

The man in question now stood before him, dagger in hand. Draco swallowed hard, focusing his attention on the blade as it came toward him. Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead, his chest rose and fell rapidly as his breathing quickened. Draco tried to convince himself that it was due to the earlier exertion, and not a growing sense of panic.

“There, there. No need to be frightened,” the pirate soothed, his voice a parody of concern. He pressed his body once again against Draco’s, from chest to thigh, running the tip of the dagger gently down his cheek. “I wouldn’t mark one such as you, except in ownership. Although I must confess,” he said, leaning back and appraising Draco again whilst tapping the knife on the palm of his hand, “that that is a most tempting thought. To brand you, to own you,” he pressed his lips against Draco’s ear and whispered, “to fuck you until you beg me for release, night after night.”

Draco clenched his jaw and glared back at him, refusing to give the man the pleasure of seeing any further hint of fear. His stomach tied itself in knots at the thought of what he knew was going to happen next. “I will never beg you for anything,” he growled.

“Oh, but I rather think you will,” the pirate replied. He swiftly brought the knife down, slicing through the laces and fabric of Draco’s shirt, exposing his pale chest.

"No!" Draco shouted. His cool façade crumbled, as the thought of becoming little more than this man’s catamite crystallised into stark reality. He pulled frantically on the chain, despite the manacles cutting into his wrists, and bucked his hips repeatedly, struggling desperately to bring one of his knees up between their two bodies, to push the other man away.

“That’s right, my proud one,” murmured the pirate against his neck. “Give Roberts what he wants.” Draco could feel Roberts’ heartbeat through his lawn cotton shirt echoing the quickening thump of his own and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the time had come.

Roberts dropped the blade to the floor, and gripped Draco’s hips with both hands using his lower body to pin Draco to the door. Draco could feel the firmness of an erect cock pressing into his groin. He stilled instantly and a cold tendril of fear twisted in his stomach, uncoiling itself slowly, to rise up into his throat, making it more difficult to breathe.

Roberts fastened his mouth on to Draco’s chest, kissing him all over. Draco shivered at the feel of the other man’s warm lips caressing his skin. He hissed in surprise, unable to stop himself from arching away from the door and pushing his groin into the other man’s erection, when Roberts unexpectedly bit down on one of his nipples. Roberts murmured appreciatively and frotted against him, while he continued to cover Draco’s neck, jaw and lips with his mouth: kissing, licking and nipping the soft yielding flesh beneath his touch.

Roberts let go of one of Draco’s hips and snaked a hand between them to gently fondle his balls. Draco tensed and bit back a moan when he felt the first stirrings of arousal in his groin. The hand moved higher so that deft fingers could trace the outline of his flaccid cock and squeeze the head repeatedly, through the soft material of his breeches. Draco’s cock twitched in response to Roberts’ firm touch and began to swell. Roberts pulled his head back and smirked at Draco in triumph. Draco swallowed and closed his eyes, turning his face away, his cheeks burning with humiliation.

Roberts used the heel of his hand, rubbing back and forth with more insistence, coaxing Draco to reluctant hardness, while his fingertips brushed Draco’s balls gently. Draco’s thighs began to tremble and his arms strained against their bonds. Arousal continued to build in his groin despite himself, and Draco bit his lip hard, enough to draw blood, in an effort to stop himself from making any sound. “Such a responsive whore you are, despite your earlier protestations,” said Roberts as he shifted slightly and ground his erection against Draco’s hip, “Methinks you are enjoying this.”

“You lily-livered swine,” Draco sneered with as much contempt as he could muster, “I’d sooner be bathing with sharks.” He was mortified to find that his body was responding to Roberts’ touches, and he tried to take control of his impulses, pressing further back into the door of the cabin, to relieve some of that delicious pressure on his cock.

“Be careful, you may get your wish, after I’ve had my prize.” Roberts slid to his knees and pressed his face to Draco’s groin, mouthing his still-covered erection. A gasp finally escaped Draco’s mouth and he arched again, pulling against the manacles, unable to stop his hips from rocking forward and back, pressing his groin again, and again, into the pirate’s eager mouth.

Roberts grabbed his dagger off the floor beside him, and slit Draco’s breeches open. His cock sprang free into the other man’s hand. Cool fingers wrapped around him and stroked quickly. Draco closed his eyes and whimpered. His hands clenched and unclenched in the manacles above him - a sign of his constant internal struggle to resist, to stop himself from pumping his cock into the firm grip of Roberts’ hand.

“Such a treasure,” Roberts murmured, then took Draco's cock into his mouth, surrounding it with an incredible moist heat. Draco's hips bucked forward on reflex, driving his erection into that wonderful warmth again and again. He inadvertently lifted his right leg and caught the pirate hard on the left ear with his knee. The warmth abruptly disappeared, to be replaced by…

“Ouch! Fucking hell, Draco! Be careful, that hurt.”

Draco snapped back to reality, at the sound of Harry’s injured tone. He looked down to see Harry kneeling before him, clutching his ear. Harry removed his hand and looked at his fingers. He pouted and looked up at Draco, showing his fingers. “You’ve made it bleed, now.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Draco panted, “I got a little carried away. God, you were good.”

“I aim to please.” said Harry wincing as he gently fingered the gold loop in his left ear. “Although how I let you persuade me to have my ear pierced this morning for your pirate fetish, I'll never know.”

Draco grinned down at Harry. “May be it was something to do with the blow job you were receiving at the time. I am very talented in that area.” Harry rolled his eyes. “It looks really good though. I like it. Makes you look hot, roguish even.” He twisted to look up at the Gryffindor and Slytherin ties that Harry had used to bind his wrists and hook him on to the bedroom door. “Untie me, and I’ll give you something to take your mind off the pain.”

“Oh no. Not until I’ve fucked you into this door first,” said Harry, standing up. He grabbed his wand from the back pocket of his snug jeans and said, “Evanesco,” vanishing the rest of Draco’s clothes. Draco watched Harry’s fingers with rapt attention, as he teasingly undid the buttons of his own jeans, and pulled them off slowly, finally freeing his body and, more importantly, his erection of clothing. Draco bounced on his toes in anticipation, causing his prick to jiggle up and down.

“Patience, Draco,” Harry said, finally moving forward, with his wand still in his hand. Harry grabbed Draco’s arse and lifted him, so that Draco could wrap his legs around Harry's waist. He then inserted the tip of his wand into Draco’s hole, causing Draco to squeak and blush slightly at the sound, and cast his favourite Preparation Charm.

Draco felt a coolness spreading inside of him and knew he was ready. “Take me, you rogue,” he said huskily. “Fuck me hard.” He gripped Harry’s waist tightly with his thighs, and tilted his hips up, pulling Harry toward him. They kissed fervently, sighing and moaning their spiralling arousal into each other’s mouths. Harry dropped his wand and gripped Draco’s arse with both hands, moving him into position.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the charms of the Dread Pirate Roberts,” he smirked and thrust into Draco in one smooth move. Draco threw his head back and let out a long low moan of appreciation. Harry withdrew and pushed forward again, with more force and began to pound into him.

Draco managed to grunt out, “Just. Be. Glad. I. Didn’t. Want. To. Be. Princess. Buttercup,” in time with Harry’s ever quickening thrusts. He threw his head back, and lost himself completely to the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked by Harry.


~*~

A/N/2 - The Dread Pirate Roberts & Princesss Buttercup are characters from the cult film and book, The Princess Bride.