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It's Irving Shanty Time

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John Irving did not believe himself to be a nosy person.

With that being said he could not wrap his head around some of the going-ons aboard the ship lately.

They already had a devious seducer on board, they had men wearing trinkets from killed white bears, the Netsilik woman was carving things into the walls of the ship, Edward Little was being an emotional mess, and there was something strange going on between the captain and the captain’s steward.

There really was! It was something that bordered on the lines of sinfully wrong, yet every time he tried to investigate such, it ended with him feeling like a fool for thinking there was anything out of the ordinary.

~ - - - ~

As Commander Fitzjames continued with his sniper story that John knew he had likely heard three times now with different wording every occasion, he let his gaze focus on Petty Officer Thomas Jopson. The young man stood at the ready holding the decanter of Allsopps in his hands, back straight, head straight, as he watched with such controlled patience.

John turned his attention back to his plate, cutting off a piece of the salted pork as he like most of the men at this point, with the exception of Lieutenant Le Vescante, tried to tune out Fitzjames’s babbling.

By the grace of God, Fitzjames finally stopped talking at some point only to move on to his infamous cheetah story. Almost immediately, Captain Crozier gulped back the rest of his Allsopps and looked up at his steward expectantly.

Jopson moved quietly with something Irving thought, was akin to the grace of a cat. He leaned over the table above their captain and this was when John noticed it, a strange twinkle in the steward’s eyes as he looked at Crozier with a warm smile. It was an odd look that in some way, reminded the third lieutenant of a look one would give to a loved one.. yet somehow more intense.

“Thank you Jopson.” Irving managed to make out Crozier’s voice, soft, as to not interrupt Fitzjames’s story.

John took a bite of the cut meat off his fork and shifted his eyes to their captain.

He was almost floored by what bestowed him there.

Captain Crozier was staring at his steward with a gaze that one would give a beautiful lass, a hunger of desire that caused Jopson to blush ever so slightly and his hands to tremble right before his eyes! It only lasted a brief second before the young steward cleared his throat to regain his composure.

All at once he felt a constricting burn in his throat that made him realize that breathing had become increasingly difficult. He was coughing and sputtering for air and his eyes burned with the deprivation of oxygen.

‘Good God! I’m choking!’

“John?” George asked leaning in close as he hunched over the table coughing in between frantic gasps for air.

He slammed his fist on the table causing the plates and cutlery to clang loudly.

Fitzjames had stopped talking and Captain Crozier had rose from his chair with a sense of urgency, Edward quickly followed after him when the man rounded the table to rush to his side.

“Jopson! Dr McDonald, quickly!” Little shouted smacking his hand hard upon the back of his shoulders in attempts to dislodge the obstruction, while Jopson hurried off out the door.

“No time.” their captain gruffed and John started when the man grabbed him roughly by the arms, bodily hauling him from his chair to turn him around to face him.

All at once without any warning whatsoever the captain had slammed his fist as hard as he could into his stomach, the blow was absolutely brutal.

Brutal indeed, but it did the trick because he doubled over heaving and retching violently on the floor.

“Good God, Francis!” he heard Fitzjames admonishing voice.

“Well what was I supposed to do James!? Let him choke to death?!” Crozier roared at their younger captain.

He was still coughing and sputtering trying to take deep breaths of precious air, he felt his head swimming and George was kneeling beside him speaking, but he wasn’t paying attention.

~ - - - ~

Jopson let out a groan as the captain shoved him face first against the wall of his bed cabin. He lowered his hands to let his nimble fingers begin to undo the buttons of his waist coat while Francis rutted himself desperately against the back of his leg, kissing and biting at the back of his neck, a fist yanking it backward by a handful of his dark hair.

It was rare for the man’s bedroom dominance to take a turn towards a more… physical level but when it did, it was oh so heavenly. He loved it when the captain was rough with him, after a while the constant tender caresses and loving affection became tedious. Sometimes he just needed the man to be cruel, though he would never admit this, he would gratefully take any attention gifted upon him without a single word of complaint.

Today the man was in a mood, especially after Lieutenant Irving almost choked to death in the officer’s mess at dinner. He had been badly startled, so he had to be angry. He was embarrassed by the circumstances of the God fairing man’s dilemma, so he was angry. Fitzjames had witnessed it all so God forbid he had to be angry. He likely saved the lieutenant’s life, but still he had to be angry.

“Yer a wicked, wicked tease boy.” he gruffed moodily into his ear punctuating his words by closing his teeth around the outer most shell of cartilage holding it firmly between them.

“Ah.. yes Captain.. sorry Sir...” he panted heavily feeling more blood rushing straight to his prick already twitching in protest against the fabric of his trousers.

Francis swatted his hands away from is waist coat gathering both his wrists he held them high above his head in one large element hardened hand, the position forcing his back straight as the captain continued to move against his leg.

“Oh.. but Sir I- ahhrg-mmnn..” he cried loudly startled when the captain let his teeth squeeze down tightly upon the flesh still held between his teeth, and it seemed the older man knew he was being more rough than he normally was because he silenced his pained cry with a large hand.

“We almost killed Lieutenant Irving today because you look so fine. What are we going to do about that?” he breathed huskily into his released ear now throbbing painfully with a forming bruise.

His voice sent a shiver down his spine, oh he craved this so much.

The captain removed his hand from his face and instead used it to reach around the front of his trousers groping his painfully hard erection through the fabric.

“Oh… Oh god… Sir...” he groaned softly canting his hips up into the man’s touch, a wordless plea for the man to take him right there, Francis was already undoing the buttons and laces.

Slowly, almost at a torturous pace, he felt the man’s hand slide down the front of his pants as well as his drawers and he couldn’t help but whimper quietly, pushing his hips back against the the captain’s own bulging trousers in a desperate want.

“When I ask you a question Mr Jopson. I expect you to answer.” he admonished but his voice was all amusement as he watched him wiggle his hips in excitement.

“S-Sir… I will take… whatever punishment you see fit…” Jopson insisted, his voice meek and small as he ghosted a finger across the swollen head of his prick.

“Good, because I don’t think I’ll have use for you tomorrow.” he hissed into the younger man’s ear.

“S-Sir?”

“Because tomorrow you won’t be able to walk in a straight line.”