Work Text:
Many years ago, long enough that Capitano couldn’t remember exactly when it happened, Dottore gave him a gift.
Although, gift may be too strong a word for it, considering Dottore had thrown the object at him with some half-hearted advice to “enjoy it” before disappearing to engage in one of his many ploys. Capitano hadn’t even realised what it was until Columbina saw him holding the toy in his hand and burst into uncontrollable laughter.
“T-The great Captain,” she had wheezed out, pointing at him with a strange expression, “is, haha, is using an o-onahole, hahahahaha! Capitano, you’re such a pervert!”
He wasn’t sure why he didn’t burn it as soon as he found out what it was. Not that he knew what an onahole was, or how Columbina knew what to call it, but he could understand what kind of object it was meant to be from her reaction. Oh, he had been sourly tempted to burn it — tempted enough to go hunt Dottore down and throw him in a volcano too — but Pierro had stopped him with a calm reminder that Dottore didn’t even seem to recall that he had given him such an untoward “gift”. The insane doctor was already distracted by other matters. For all intents and purposes, Pierro concluded, Capitano truly was free to just enjoy it with no strings attached.
It was disgusting. A filthy, inappropriate tool that he had no use for. But something compelled him to keep the damned thing, so he tossed it somewhere he wouldn’t see it, before forgetting it ever existed.
Until Ororon.
Since the cataclysm, Capitano didn’t consider himself a man of many desires. There was little time for indulgences when one was devoted to a cause bigger than himself. Capitano didn’t care about much during the centuries after his kingdom fell, besides preventing the same tragedy from befalling Natlan. Regardless of the people who offered to indulge in pleasure with him, Capitano would refuse without a thought, steadfast in his goals. His body didn’t crave pleasure, as living creatures did, so he behaved as a tool should — existing to serve its purpose, and nothing more.
Things could never stay the same, however. The moment Ororon stepped into his life, sneaking up on him like a shadow, Capitano was caught in a trap of his own making. Lost in that brilliant gaze, there was little more than he could do besides fall into them. Could this have all been avoided if he simply walked away from the lone boy, so quiet and beautiful standing in the garden?
Perhaps. Capitano would never know, because he could no longer imagine a life where he existed without the warmth of that sweet smile. Where before he could barely call himself alive, existing as no more than a sliver of what he once was, now Capitano felt himself want. Even rotten and hollowed as his body was, he craved like he was human again.
And, he discovered the night after he saved Ororon‘s life — felt his soul be held within his hands, saw his dazed, beautiful eyes look up at him with gratitude — that a certain part of him was less affected by the rot than he calculated.
Sitting on the bed in the privacy of his makeshift quarters, Capitano held the strangely shaped gift Dottore had given him so many years ago. He wasn’t even sure how the onahole ended up being packed along with his other things for this mission in Natlan, but he couldn’t exactly dispose of it without potentially rousing suspicion and risking his subordinates seeing him with it. No, it was better to keep it hidden in his quarters and forbid any of the soldiers from going in.
Holding it cautiously, Capitano inspected the onahole like he would a weapon. The object fit perfectly in his hand, and were he not aware of what the hole was purposed for, he would think it looked innocuous. Scrutinising the shape and size, he couldn’t fathom how Dottore decided this was something useful to make — though, since he was contemplating using such a thing, perhaps that was a hypocritical thought to have. He eyed it, calculating the measurements mentally. It seemed a bit… small. At this point though, Capitano didn’t think complaining about that would do any good. He pulled his gauntlets off and held it carefully in one scarred hand, tracing the rim of the hole with the other.
The first thing he noticed was how warm it was. Strangely so, because he didn’t remember it ever feeling like this when he held it before. There were other strange things about it invited scrutiny. For one, the shape seemed more lithe than it was before, and he couldn’t help but find the colour of it familiar. Curiosity made him impulsive, and he slowly dipped his finger into the hole. It clung to him, and he wondered if he was imagining the way the flesh seemed to twitch with every move he made. Any thought of it being his imagination at work swiftly disappeared when he pushed more fingers in to stretch the hole wider — and he immediately felt it clench down, resistant to his ministrations.
In any other scenario, Capitano would have thrown the object out, cast it into a blazing inferno and made sure it burned to ashes. But it was one of Dottore’s many strange and inexplicable inventions, and though he would place more trust in a swindler, Capitano had to admit that it made the strangeness of the object more reasonable.
…Archons, he was losing his sanity. To think he was making excuses to use such an item, all to chase base pleasure. Capitano became too aware of how foolish he must appear, sat upon his bed while holding the onahole in his hand, ready to pleasure himself like some deviant. To preserve what remained of his dignity, he should destroy the object immediately and pretend nothing happened, ignore all distractions and devote his full attention to his plan.
As Capitano pulled his fingers out from the tight hole, he hesitated. Against his desires, thoughts of that boy who had read his soul haunted him. Vibrant eyes flashed in his mind, skin inked with dark tattoos, and he felt his cock press harder against the fabric of his pants.
Well. Perhaps, this one indulgence would rid him of these persistent thoughts.
Leaning against the headboard, Capitano glanced at the door and assessed how much time he had. Barring any emergencies, no one should be coming to interrupt him in the middle of the night. Even if something did happen, he was confident in his ability to sense any urgent trouble before his soldiers found him compromised. In the worst case scenario… Tarko should be the only casualty of this incident.
He wouldn’t strip. Capitano had no desire to indulge for long, not when this was simply to vent his lust towards Ororon. Capitano would never forgive himself if he hurt that sweet boy, and with how his baser instincts called to him whenever he saw Ororon, to bring the boy to his knees and carve his place inside him, to rut into him until he cried his name—
It wasn’t worth it, to reveal his ache for him. So Capitano would release it all here, use this one night to rid himself of his wanting, and then keep it locked inside so that tender existence would never have to know of his heart.
Resolute in his decision, he no longer hesitated. Pulling out his cock from the confines of his pants, Capitano slicked himself up with the polishing oil before rubbing his tip against the hole.
Were this a real person, he would have taken the time to stretch them out. If, say, he had the honour of taking Ororon to bed, Capitano would spend hours just worshipping him, taking every care to prepare the boy for him until he wept. He would lave his hole with his tongue, fill him with his fingers one at a time until he could slip his hand inside him. Then, perhaps, after he’s wrung pleasure after pleasure out of Ororon, then he’d take his cock and push deep inside of him, ruining him in the gentle, relentless way his heart desired to.
But this wasn’t Ororon. This was just a hole, made for his own selfish pleasure, and so Capitano let go of his restraints and shoved as deep as he could with a single thrust.
It was curious, how realistic it felt. The obliterating warmth threatened to undo him, his mind blank of all else besides that tempting face he could imagine laid beneath him. He wanted it, wanted him so much that it burned — the red flush of Ororon’s cheeks, his averted eyes as he tried to hide the pleasure he felt, his trembling voice as he called for Capitano. With a low groan, he pushed harder into the tight hole, bullying it open until it was forced to accept all of him.
It kept clenching down on him, as if trying to push him out, or perhaps trap him inside. Capitano hunched over himself, unable to resist fucking in shallow thrusts. He couldn’t bear to pull out too far, the heat tempting him to drive deeper inside. It was sinful, how good it felt when it squeezed around his cock like a vice. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the thrum of it almost loud enough to drown out the sound of his harsh panting.
Getting a better grip on the tool, he held it tight and fucked up into it. When the hole gripped around him tight, twitching as if it had reached its own release, he fantasised Ororon being brought to climax with his cock inside him. Like this, if he closed his eyes, he could pretend Ororon was there — Ororon, with his tempting gaze, sweat glistening over the dark lines of his tattoos, drool slipping from soft lips he would kill men just to taste. To be worthy to have him, to see his face as he came apart in his hands…
This indulgence would ruin him. But as he thrust harder, deeper into the dream of a boy he could never have, Capitano thought he didn’t mind this kind of ruining.
As he pushed deep inside and came, his cock twitching as it was milked by the now ruined hole, Capitano leaned back against the headboard and let out a sigh. Bringing his arm up to cover his face, he prayed this wouldn’t destroy the current friendship he had with Ororon. Guilt was quick to claim its place in his chest, to know he was defiling the boy with his lustful fantasies. Grunting as he idly rocked into the hole, feeling his cum stain the insides and stick to his cock, he slowly pulled out and placed the onahole away from him.
…He would clean it up later. For now, Capitano could only hope that this would be enough to rid himself of his desires in front of Ororon.
As long as his selfish yearning didn’t trouble that precious boy, then Capitano was satisfied.