Stanley Uris: He's the man. (stan_by_me) wrote in crownplazaic, @ 2020-12-03 17:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, killian jones, stanley uris |
Who: Stanley Uris, Killian Jones
What: Flirting, basically
Where: Their room
When: After this
Status: Complete
Warnings: Not really
Coffee with Richie had been nice. Fun, even. Richie was mostly always fun -- he reminded Stan of when they’d been younger, brighter things and then reminded him all over again that they could still be bright now, even if they weren’t quite as flexible as they’d been when they were kids. Well. Stan was still kind of flexible. But what he really was, was buzzed on coffee. Which was kind of normal, but he might have gone a little overboard today. It made it hard for him to keep his hands still as he opened up the door. He managed, though and the door clicked closed behind him in a way that he thought polite as opposed to too eager or forceful. “Killian?” --- Oh, there he was. Vibrating and buzzing like a swarm of summer bees from all that caffeine, what a delight. Well, if Killian couldn’t tire Stanley out then he would consider it a failure - but then again, he was quite good at what he did so he couldn’t be overly concerned. The Captain had been doing his version of ‘lounging,’ which was simply wearing a pair of flannel trousers and one of Stanley’s t-shirts (‘borrowed,’ though he didn’t really plan to give it back), reading a book, and propping it up to use his good hand to turn the pages. The hook and brace were already gone, on the dresser, since he didn’t need the hook to kill anyone trying to come in here who didn’t belong here. Normally he didn’t let anyone see his disfigurement either, the lack of hand, but he’d crossed that threshold awhile ago with Stan. “How many cups did you drink?” he asked, beckoning the fellow nearer. Book tossed aside, and he sat up fully to give him a meaningful once over with forget-me-not blue eyes. --- Stanley wasn’t a large man by any measure -- he was a little over average in height and fairly thin and he didn’t have broad shoulders that went on for miles like Richie did, but when Patty used to wear his shirts to bed or around the house, she’d looked small in comparison. Cute. Killian didn’t look smaller. He did look cute though. And alluring. He probably knew it, Stan thought, pausing in front of the now closed door in order to just look his fill. Stanley also wasn’t a possessive man, but this sort of made him think he could be. His shirt. His pirate wearing his shirt. Yeah. That was good. “Ah,” he said, momentarily distracted, it was always easier when he was caffeinated, which was a good lot of the time. “I don’t know. Maybe a few cups.” As if he ever lost count of anything. “Four. What are you reading?” --- “Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea,” Killian replied. “I wanted to see if the written Captain Nemo was similar to the one I knew.” Four cups though, Stanley, really? He was often concerned with his paramour’s sleeping habits - and the sheer amount of coffee probably didn’t help. He stretched a bit, attempting to look even more alluring - a siren luring their beloved nearer, nearer; his brand of rocks, they were fine to crash into. “Come here and tell me more about rulers, love.” The fact that Stan had attended bondage workshops was endlessly fascinating to Killian - you just wouldn’t think it to look at the man, would you? With his pretty eyes and his glasses, probably a calculator and pen in hand to crunch some numbers. It was honestly one of Killian’s favorite things about him. All those layers. --- “Is he?” Stanley asked, coming closer as he was beckoned. A siren song worked wonders on Stan -- more so yet, when the siren in question was wearing his clothes, and they were a little tighter across his chest than they would have been on Stan. His insides felt warm over it, and it had nothing to do with the copious amounts of coffee. He settled his finished scarf on the dresser and toed his shoes off before crawling onto the bed, moving the book to the night stand in order to not end up kneeling on it or having it in his spine later on. “Still curious about rulers, huh?” Stan asked, offering up one of his patented little smiles. Stan didn’t think it was particularly odd that he went to workshops. If anything, it just made sense to him. He was something of a perfectionist, so learning how to do anything properly (and safely) was important to him. And it wasn’t like accountants never got horny. “Sometimes people put rubber bands along the end, for a different sort of texture and feel. They’re sharp against the skin, but I think it’s kind of cheap, personally. Kiss?” --- Killian rumbled a laugh, a fond one, it was low and warm - red hot embers. “So what do you prefer to use, then? A proper wooden paddle?” he asked, fingers curling around the collar of Stan’s shirt. He anchored himself in, closer, and gladly went for that kiss. Kissed him deeply, like he was finally glad to have Stan’s lips to himself. Which, in a way, he was - felt like he’d been downstairs for eons, so Killian would take advantage of the time now and just steal him away into bed. “And so far, no - Captain Nemo is a bit different than the one I knew. The one I knew dragged me onto his ship to try to convince me I needed family, not revenge. It didn’t go over so well,” he rolled his eyes. At the time he hadn’t been interested in family anyway, considering he’d already lost all of his. But at any rate. He flopped on his back, pulling Stan atop him so they could slot together like this. Prime position for Killian to be a kraken from many stories told of the Nautilus, and hook both legs around his caught treasure. --- “Well, obviously. They make really nice ones. But here I suppose we’d have to make do with something else,” Stan said, and he couldn’t quite tell if Killian was teasing him or not, but he didn’t feel bothered about it if he was, it felt warm, like it was all in good humor, not meant to be cruel. It was probably that laugh. Killian had a really good laugh that kind of made Stan feel pleased and wanted all at the same time. He’d never met anyone with a laugh like that before. “Mmph,” Stan said, squirming in a way where his knee was braced on one side of Killian, even as he stretched out long on him otherwise. Just a little bit of balance. Just in case. In the mean time he traced the curve of his jaw with a thumb and kissed back, long and a little lazy like time didn’t mean anything at all. Sometimes it didn’t. “Sounds like he had an okay idea,” Stan murmured, although most of it went into Killian’s mouth. --- His hand went to Stanley’s thigh, the knee braced on one side of him, gliding up and down in a path that was just as unhurried and lazy as those kisses. Though the next time he went back up, he grabbed the fellow’s ass, giving him a little tap of a spank. For funsies. “Perhaps you’ll receive a paddle for one of your Hanukkah gifts,” he said, with a twitch of one comically villainous eyebrow. It’d be easy enough to make one - or even better yet, transfigure one. Killian would just need to find a ruler and use a bit of magic. “Then you can really show me who is boss.” He was the cursed one, the one with all the magic that slithered through his veins, but whatever Stanley desired, Killian would find a way to give it to him - he was rather enamored, and thought he ought to say that sometime. In case he ever got sent back to the hell that was Storybrooke. “Going to punish me for stealing one of your shirts?” he asked, with a glint of intrigue in his eye. --- Stanley had no such magic and was momentarily side tracked by the fact that he did have to come up with some gifts for Killian for the upcoming holiday. He’d have to get creative, unless the hotel just decided to stop on a land of malls -- ones that hopefully included adult stores. He doubted that’d be the case though. He let out a little squeak over the funsies spank, tangled his fingers up in Killian’s hair and nibbled at his bottom lip playfully. “We already know who’s boss,” he said, bold, as if that was some claim he’d ever made. “Is it theft?” he asked, leaning back a little -- just enough to look at the shirt in question. “Killian, have you taken my shirt to wear in bad faith? Am I not getting it back?” It came out dry and serious which was, of course, how anyone who really knew him would know he was joking. --- “You’re not getting it back,” Killian informed Stan right away, and there was this shit-eating grin on his face - because he couldn’t do serious very well. Perhaps because of his predicament he was a bit more subdued, not as quick to make a wisecrack - but he still had a sense of humor sometimes. He had to, or he’d descend into madness at a quicker pace than he’d like - there had to be something to slow it to a crawl, and a lot of it was this. A lot of it happened to be those feelings he’d caught. Like a bloody cold, or influenza. How awful, if a bit more pleasurable than actual sickness. Fingers adorned with rings - just the actual ring finger, index finger, and thumb - reached for the shirt Stan had on now, twisting as if he meant to convince him to take it off. Granted, Killian could make it disappear just fine. “What are you going to do about it?” --- Killian wasn’t without humor, that was true. It wasn’t always there, he’d noticed. Sometimes it took Stan some time to draw it out, a little at a time. Not everyone could be playful all the time, he knew, but he wondered if it would have been easier once. Or if his measurements were bad and it had been easier even a month or so prior. Right now though, he was plenty playful. And Stan was too, maybe a little more than usual because he was still buzzing so much from all the coffee. “I mean, I don’t have any rulers,” he said, shifting enough to steal one more kiss before he leaned back, straddled Killian’s hips so he could get his shirt off, seeing as Killian had been so convincing. “I don’t know,” he admitted, folding his shirt because he really wasn’t the guy who could just toss things to the floor to worry about later, not even a little bit. “I feel biased. It’s so hard to pick a punishment that fits the crime when I like you so well.” --- If there was ever a day Stanley didn’t fold his clothes, or simply left them in a heap by the bed, Killian would assume he’d been compromised. Likewise, the pirate was happy to discard everything and not bother to fold it but he usually did so Stan didn’t stop him at an inopportune time. That would just be awkward, wouldn’t it? “You like me?” he wanted to confirm, still grinning - though it tipped more into smirk territory, at this point (a long, long road into Hell). His hand coasted along Stan’s ribcage, digging in just a little bit - perhaps looking for ticklish spots. “How much do you like me?” It was important to know. Because Killian was quite sure he was past like territory, and there were no similarities to how he felt about Emma - which he considered a good thing, considering how that turned out. Perhaps it was also good because every love in a person’s life should feel different. --- It would be very awkward indeed. But there were some things that Stan couldn’t ignore even if he tried. Best to just fold the clothes when it was possible because it’d itch at his brain until it was done. “What?” Stan asked, but in a bemused sort of way, his smile an indulgent one over the question. Check yes or no if you like me. It was very --youthful. Despite the fact that he knew Killian was older than him by fairy tale measures. But maybe it wasn’t as childish as it seemed, really. Because it had been a while now, hadn’t it? Two months? They shared a room, and each other. Secrets at strange times of night and day. It had been easy, learning to live in each other’s back pocket, even if sometimes Stan still missed Patty so much it hurt. But it wasn’t the same. Also, Stanley wasn’t ticklish, he just made a face over the roaming fingers. “I more than like you,” he amended, not quite shy. --- Killian’s eyes narrowed into speculative bluebird slits - perhaps he was now well-acquainted with magic of all kinds, light and dark and everything in between; he knew what it felt like, knew its burdens and its intricacies, knew that it was handy for a lot of things but wasn’t meant to solve every problem. “Come here,” he insisted, and (everyone was ticklish, Stanley) ceased with the touching, only to curl a hand on the back of his lover’s neck and pull him down for another kiss. This one - he really put all he had into it. Could be because he was expecting it, or relying too much on it - but even if magic shimmered and rippled in the air around them, like heat bouncing on asphalt (which it did), it didn’t work entirely despite how Killian felt the shackles of the Dark One’s curse loosening just a bit. True Love’s Kiss was powerful enough to break any curse, but - only if he knew he could live without the power, and gave it up willingly. A stubborn part of him still wanted it, right now. He wondered what that meant - maybe that love by itself wasn’t always enough, that it had to be a combination of things. “I more than like you too,” he said, with a low-wattage version of that smirk; it was softer, somehow. --- Not everyone was ticklish. That wasn’t a thing. And despite the fact that Stan was already pretty much here already, he did lean in closer until there was no real space between them, his hands cupping Killian’s stubbly cheeks like maybe he was worried he was going to pull away before Stan was ready to break the kiss. He did feel a little bit like it could go on forever and he’d be happy with that. Breathing was overrated. Well, right up until he needed it. “Really?” Stan asked, and he was mostly teasing but also maybe a little bit serious, because Killian’s smile was soft, and sometimes he caught him staring when he thought Stan wasn’t paying attention and that was soft too, and fond. And it made things happen in Stan’s stomach. Excited butterflies. “Is it love?” No one could ever say Stanley didn’t just say exactly what was on his mind whenever he felt emboldened to do so. There was no need to be coy about this topic, he thought. “Because I think I might love you.” --- The fact that he outright asked was something Killian had expected - he still appreciated it, however. Dancing around things wouldn’t do either of them any favors. “I think it is,” he murmured, both arms going around Stan - even the one lacking a hand, because despite that he still had plenty of lean muscle in those arms, lots of time spent hauling ropes and changing sails. “Or - I know it is,” he added, grinning slightly. “I do love you. I’m - not perfect though.” What was he trying to say here? That he was sorry he couldn’t just fling the Dark One’s curse away from him, in favor of their love and being together? He wished it wasn’t so complicated, but then again, he supposed that if it wasn’t complicated it wouldn’t be as rich. The way love was meant to be, interesting in all of its intricacies. --- Stan probably would have called bullshit on that line of thought, because again, he just said what was on his mind. As it was, he was already sort of squinting over Killian calling himself out for imperfections. “I’m not looking for perfect,” he said slowly, like he was trying to find just the right words but was a little bit distracted by the embrace, and the urge to lick down the line of Killian’s throat. Well. He didn’t stop himself doing that either, but he did keep up with the conversation, too. “I’m not perfect either.” Mental illness wasn’t the same as cursed by and with dark magic, but look, he was trying to work with big concepts here. --- He was quite welcome to lick Killian all he wanted, the Captain wasn’t going to complain one bit. Rumbling a sigh, he hooked both legs around Stan and rolled over to give their positions a swap - he balanced his weight carefully, grinning at his very handsome lover. “Perhaps you’re not perfect but you’re relatively close. I’ve a surprise for you,” he said, softly, a quiet teasing tone meant to be enticing. Something that he’d been saving for a special occasion - and, well, Killian thought that saying the L word was indeed a special occasion. Something to be remembered. --- That was actually a really nice compliment, relatively close to perfect. Because Stan was a perfectionist, and it was something he strived for, even if it was just to his own standards. But then he was on his back and looking up at Killian and it was just a different kind of perfect, wasn’t it? “A surprise?” He asked, eyebrows raising, fingers twisting into Killian’s shirt which was really just his shirt. “What is it?” It’d better be another kiss, was all Stan was saying. --- It, in fact, was another kiss - but that was just something Killian gave Stan, a bonus if you will, and not the actual surprise. Then he slid away from the bed, going to do a pose in the doorway to the bathroom. It was a good view from the bed, and he was there, arm outstretched and looking like he was actually posing for the cover of Pirates Pin-up Magazine. Then, a swirl of red smoke, and it wasn’t Killian in the doorway, looking so enticing. That dark hair, short and closed-cropped and very pixie. The cherry-red lips. The curves and the little dress that rippled over each and every one of them. It was like they took a time machine back so Stanley could relive his 1996 era crush on his favorite celebrity. “Hi handsome,” she drawled, batting those long feather duster lashes. The only reason Killian knew how Winona Ryder looked and sounded was because they’d watched a film in the theatre once. He’d committed it to memory (hard not to, when Stanley was so obviously drooling). --- “Oh,” Stanley said, sitting up in the bed, weight balanced on one arm while all he could really do was stare. Because his pirate boyfriend was now very much his late-teens (and possibly forever) crush and wasn’t that just something? Shapeshifting really should have been right off of the table because Stanley had had some pretty bad experiences with that sort of thing as a child but he’d seen Killian do it, and frankly he was just sort of impressed. Well. Maybe more than impressed. Surprised and delighted? Yes. It also made him lose whatever cool he’d had before. “Hi,” he returned, going a little pink, which seemed really stupid almost the second it came out of his mouth. --- It was perhaps a bit overwhelming, to have the image of all those teenage masturbatory fantasies right there - but honestly, Stanley’s reaction was delightful. Gave Killian a good chuckle, though it sounded like a silvery bell rather than the sea-scalded laugh that was par the course. “Aw, are you shy?” she asked, crawling onto the bed and nudging Stan on his back so he could be straddled and his hips hugged by slender thighs - honestly, doing this as a woman was not something Killian had ever used magic for, but was quite curious to see what it would be like, to take a ride and experience a different perspective and all those different sensations. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you...” Oh, she would. And sorry, neighbors - hope you weren’t too disturbed. --- Was he shy? Stan didn’t normally think so, he was pretty often blunt actually. But in this particular instance -- well. Maybe. He was just surprised. And Killian was a different kind of pretty than normal. The sort that -- well. It just wasn’t Killian, in terms of looks or voice or laugh. Winona Ryder circa the late 90’s was definitely a thing he was into, mind. But it’d been a fantasy. “I--” he cleared his throat. “Is this okay? I like you as you are.” It felt like the kind of thing he needed to offer in reassurance, just in case. Although. She had two hands now, which was a momentary advantage. --- The two hands aspect was an advantage Killian had considered as well. He didn’t do much shapeshifting in Storybrooke (he’d changed into Henry once, to steal Excalibur from Emma which was so far from where he wanted his train of thought to go so that could fuck all the way off), so here he was more than happy to try it out for sexier, more fun reasons. “It’s okay,” she assured, a sweet little purr. “I promise.” Killian wasn’t doing it for any other reason besides the fact that it would make Stanley happy, and that was important (so was adding zest to their sex life). “Now stop talking.” They had more important things to do. |