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“Okay, so we all agree,” Gaban says. “No whacking off. No sex.”
Rayleigh sees some of the guys squirm a little just at the word itself. He sighs. It already seems futile to try and restrain the chaos that’s coming.
“Can we get naked?” Roger asks, raising his hand.
“Wha—hmm.” Gaban scratches his chin. “Well…. It might be tempting for everyone else to see that if you do it, so no.”
“What?!” Roger cries.
“It’ll be too tempting for our vice captain, at least,” Gaban clarifies, smirking in Rayleigh’s direction.
Rayleigh flips him off. He’s seen Roger naked a million times, he’s not going to lose his mind over it now, sex pollen or no. In fact, he feels pretty confident that he’ll be able to keep his composure a lot better than anyone else on the crew. Bunch of hedonists with no self control.
With the rules established, everyone disperses, at least as far as they can disperse in the confined space. They’re trapped in a cave, of course, because when things go wrong for the Roger Pirates, they go absurdly, catastrophically wrong.
The summary is—they’re in Dressrosa. Prince Riku, a good friend of Roger’s, invited the whole crew to come with him and his men on a hunting trip in the wilder part of the island, far outside the capital. Roger agreed, of course. Riku gave them hunting gear and dogs, spent the first day showing them the ropes, and then gave Roger free reign on the second day to go wherever he wanted and catch whatever he wanted. Being as competitive as he is, Roger proposed a challenge—he and Riku would compete to catch the biggest prey, and then compare their prizes at the end of the day at a rendezvous point. The loser would have to perform some kind of forfeit. With Roger, that usually means public nudity or some other juvenile dare. But now they’re not even going to be able to meet back up with Riku at the designated time. Because of course Roger led the entire crew into a field of aphrodisiacal flowers, and of course he had to race through the field with all the dogs, kicking up metric fucktons of pollen, infecting them all. And then of course he had to stumble upon an opening in the ground that led into an underground cave. And of course everyone followed him in. And of course the cave was too deep to climb out of. And so now… they’re just stuck here. Waiting for Riku to realize Roger isn’t coming to meet him, waiting for Riku to start searching for them. Hopefully he’ll rescue them. But that’ll probably be a long way off. It’s not even the rendezvous time yet.
Stuck down here. In a single cavernous room with no escape, lungs full of sex pollen, about to start dying of lust.
Rayleigh picks a spot as far away from everyone as possible. They’ve agreed on the rules. No one will be succumbing to the sex pollen. They’re going to wait here with patience and dignity until Riku comes to fish them out. It won’t be that hard.
~~~
An hour in, and it’s… not as easy as Rayleigh was anticipating.
He’s so hard it hurts and nothing he does eases the pressure. It doesn’t matter what he thinks about—naked grandmas, Monkey D Garp, the most repulsive Celestial Dragon he ever saw on Sabaody—he stays rock hard. Any tiny shift or squirming motion makes it worse. He just sits with his back against a large rock, elbows on his knees, and stays as still as humanly possible. He can still taste the astringent pollen in the back of his throat, and he regrets that he was the first to blindly follow Roger when he started frolicking in the field.
He can feel that his face and chest are flushed pink and there’s sweat trickling down his back and pooling in the pits of his knees. He’s starting to wish Gaban had said yes to Roger’s getting-naked question. He wants so badly to tear all of his clothes off and at least get some air on his humid skin. His jeans are also suffocating his dick in the most uncomfortable way. He feels like he’s going to tear through them.
In a desperate bid for distraction, he cracks his eyes open and scans the room. Everyone else seems to be in a similar state of agony. Most of the guys are turned away from the rest of the room and facing the wall, but Rayleigh can see that the tips of their ears are red and the backs of their shirts are soaked with sweat. The people he can see look as rough as he feels. Spencer is sprawled on his back, chest heaving, and he’s holding onto two stalagmites, probably to keep his hands from wandering under his belt. Gaban is slumped against the cave wall near Roger and he has one hand shoved up his own shirt. It’s eerily still, like it wants to go farther south, but Gaban is forcing it to be content with just touching his stomach instead.
Rayleigh’s eyes land on Roger. The second he looks at Roger’s face, a searing hot bolt of lust rockets through him and he actually grunts out loud. Fuck.
Roger looks so fucking delicious to him that there aren’t even words to describe it. Rayleigh isn’t mentally prepared for it, the sensory assault that the sight of him arouses. Looking at the other guys only made him feel a mixture of amusement and pity and camaraderie, but looking at Roger is…. It’s so….
Roger is handsome, has always been handsome, but right now, to Rayleigh’s eyes, he looks like an angel descended straight from heaven. His olive skin is dewy and glowing with sweat, flushed and warm with heat. His long hair falling across his forehead and neck is like rivers of ink. His unbelievably long eyelashes are so thick that Rayleigh can see them fanning across his cheeks even from this distance. His full lips are parted because he’s panting a little. Rayleigh can see a little flash of the white of his teeth, a shimmer of moisture on his tongue. His strong jaw, his Adam’s apple, the stubble on his chin and down his throat. He’s so beautiful, so masculine, so—so—
Rayleigh exhales harshly and squirms, head rolling back to thunk against the rock. Fuck. He feels like he’s burning alive from the inside. He feels so hungry, like he’s been starving to death in the desert for a hundred days. He wants, he wants so badly he can barely breathe.
He glances at Roger again like the masochist that he is. He’s slouched against the wall like Gaban, legs wide open. Sweat is dripping down his strong chest, running through the grooves of his abdominal muscles. Rayleigh stops breathing entirely as he traces one particular little gem of sweat with his eyes all the way from the groove of Roger’s pecs down to his bellybutton. Then his eyes follow the dense curly trail of hair down into his jeans, down to something even better.
Roger’s cock looks as hard as Rayleigh’s feels. It’s laying across his hip, straining against his jeans. The denim is visibly wet near the tip.
“Fuck,” Rayleigh breathes to himself, closing his eyes for a second. The throb of arousal he feels at the sight is so intense it kind of hurts.
He feels wild and unpredictable and unhinged, like he might do something out of character before he can stop himself. Not only is this overwhelming arousal unfamiliar, but so is this intense desire for Roger specifically. He loves Roger, of course. Roger is his best friend and his soul companion. It took some convincing at first, but he now fully agrees with Roger that they were always destined to meet. And sure, he’s always thought of Roger as handsome, and maybe their friendship has sometimes strayed into odd, possessive places, maybe it’s toed the line between normal friendship and something else, but…. Rayleigh hasn’t felt this before. He feels like if he can’t have Roger right fucking now, he’ll die. He wants Roger so fucking badly. He can feel the reins he had on himself earlier crumbling apart, can feel his mental state declining into a primal place of fuck fuck fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He opens his eyes again, unable to stop himself. He finds that Roger is looking back at him this time. They make eye contact, and immediately another crippling bolt of lust shoots through Rayleigh’s body. He squirms, hands landing on the ground and head tilting back, the beginning of the motion of laying down. It’s an automatic response he can’t control—the weight of Roger’s gaze has him moving to submit before he even realizes it.
Roger’s eyes drag down his body starting at his now-arched throat, shamelessly ogling and admiring. Roger often comments on Rayleigh’s looks, has called him handsome and pretty many times, but this naked hunger is new. He’s making a face like every inch of Rayleigh’s body is mesmerizing to him, like he’s never wanted anything more. As he’s staring at Rayleigh’s thighs, perhaps subconsciously, one of his hands reaches between his own legs and rubs at his cock. Rayleigh whines a little.
Mmm, Roger….
Wanting to show him that it’s mutual, Rayleigh parts his thighs a bit so Roger can see him slide a hand onto his dick too. A little bashfully, he rubs himself. Roger’s jaw drops a little and Rayleigh sees him mouth the word Ray. Roger grinds the heel of his hand harder into his dick, thighs falling open even more to give Rayleigh a good view. Rayleigh’s heart starts pounding even faster. It’s fucking electrifying. They’ve never done anything like this before, and the thrill of it is getting amplified a hundredfold by the sex pollen. In retrospect, there have been signs, hints—Roger getting upset when Rayleigh flirts with women in bars instead of sticking by his side, sleeping together in the small single bed on their first boat when Roger could have easily slept on the floor, Roger allowing Rayleigh (and Rayleigh only) to wear his precious straw hat. Hugs and looks that lingered too long, Roger being a little too vocally appreciative of Rayleigh’s good looks. Maybe they were always building up to this inevitable climax, but nevertheless—it’s electrifying. Seeing Roger’s open and blatant desire for him is so—
Rayleigh pushes both of his hands up the bottom of his shirt and pulls it up, touching his own nipples and showing Roger his stomach. He’s acting mostly on autopilot at this point; his animal hindbrain is doing its best to entice Roger and convince him to come over to the other side of the room. He just needs—
“Oi,” Gaban barks.
It startles Rayleigh. He had momentarily forgotten there was anyone else in the cave. He looks over and sees that Gaban is giving him a murderous look. He seems to know that it’s pointless to try and reason with Roger, but that shaming Rayleigh might keep him in line at least. Rayleigh does feel a slight pang of embarrassment—pinching his nipples in front of his crew as a mating display for the captain isn’t exactly becoming of a first mate. But embarrassment is a drop in the bucket compared to all the burning desire and excitement he feels right now.
It’s irrelevant either way. Roger has been hooked. In the split second Gaban and Rayleigh are distracted by each other, he launches forward towards Rayleigh.
Gaban pivots immediately.
“No, Roger, don’t!” Gaban shouts. He dives forward and grabs the back of Roger’s shirt to restrain him. Roger growls and thrashes, forcing Gaban to involve his other hand in the grabbing.
“Don’t do it, man!” Gaban pleads. “We’re suffering enough already! Don’t make us listen to you two boning!”
But it seems Roger has made up his mind. He yanks his arms free of the shirt and abandons it entirely. He darts away before Gaban can get hold of him again. In half a second, he’s across the room, prowling towards Rayleigh.
“Oh god,” Rayleigh pants, instantly forgetting about that little pang of embarrassment. He melts, sliding down onto his back and opening his thighs to welcome Roger. Decorum doesn’t matter anymore. Dignity doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except Roger.
“Rayleigh…,” Roger gasps.
Roger practically collapses on top of him. Just his weight and warmth alone have Rayleigh moaning. He hugs Roger tight with his legs and his arms, squeezing him, clawing at his back, begging for him without words. They grind and crush their bodies together, uncoordinated and frantic. Roger’s mouth ends up on his throat, kissing and licking and biting. He’s breathing hard like he just ran a marathon. He smells so fucking good, he feels so good, oh god, Rayleigh is going to die of ecstasy before they even get to the sex.
“Knew that was coming…,” someone comments.
“God damn it.” Gaban’s defeated and exasperated voice.
Rayleigh feels Roger tugging urgently at the fly of his jeans and he moans. He’s helpless. He can’t stop.
“Don’t look, guys,” he calls out to the rest of the room. “Just cover your ears! That’s an order!”
There’s a whole flurry of cackling and whistling in response, and a nameless tension seems to break. In his periphery, Rayleigh sees more people turn around to face the wall, but half of them are still looking gleefully over their shoulders anyways, the nosy bastards. He thinks he hears Spencer mutter a fuck it before shoving a hand down the front of his pants. He’s sure more people are gonna start succumbing to arousal soon, but that’s about when he stops paying attention to the others and refocuses on Roger.
Roger has somehow gotten Rayleigh’s fly undone and he’s yanking insistently at his jeans. Rayleigh helps him pull them off, along with the briefs underneath, and Roger throws them aside. He shoves his own jeans down to mid-thigh and collapses on top of Ray again, squirming around and clumsily rubbing their dicks together like he’s too impatient to do anything that requires more finesse. He tucks his face into the crook of Rayleigh’s neck and pants harshly against his skin as he humps.
“Mmm…!” Roger whines.
Rayleigh crosses his ankles over Roger’s lower back and uses his legs to pull Roger harder against him, over and over. He’s reeling a bit at the thought of holy shit that’s Roger’s cock, and it’s rubbing against mine, holy shit, but higher cognitive processes like introspection are just distant background noise at this point.
“Mmm, Ray…. Wanna fuck you so bad,” Roger slurs drunkenly. “I’ve wanted you for so long…!”
“Please, please,” Rayleigh gasps. “Please, yes….”
Roger draws back, grabs Ray’s chin, and kisses him hard. Rayleigh moans into his mouth, clutching at his shoulders. It feels so right to be underneath him, kissing him like this. Roger’s damp hair falling across Rayleigh’s face smells so good, like musk and spice.
“I really wanted it to be romantic when we did it for the first time,” Roger pants when he breaks the kiss. “I’m sorry!”
Rayleigh is surprised enough that his eyes go wide. “You thought about how it would go?”
“Duh!” Roger grins. “I had it all planned out! But I guess sometimes things don’t go how you expect, ha!”
Rayleigh is stunned. He didn’t know Roger had been actively planning to romance him. He wants to know more, wants to ask questions, but lust supersedes curiosity right now. He’ll have time to ask questions later, if they ever get out of this cave.
Roger spits liberally into one of his hands and slathers it all over his cock. The brief respite from the relentless humping gives Rayleigh a chance to actually look at it, and just the sight of it makes him groan and has his eyes rolling back in his head. Fuck, what a gorgeous cock. He’s seen it before obviously, but never hard. Definitely never this hard. It’s as perfect as the rest of Roger, big and thick and stiff and a mouthwatering shape. His jungle of inky black pubic hair is the most manly, most appealing thing Rayleigh has ever seen. Rayleigh has never lusted over a man before—definitely not any man’s junk—but it doesn’t matter. He wants Roger’s dick right now as badly as a lonely Loguetown housewife wants the milkman.
He hikes his legs up high around Roger’s waist, trying his best to make the angle good for him, not wholly sure what he’s doing. Roger tucks his face into Rayleigh’s neck again (seems to really like it there, maybe because of the scent), and uses one hand to blindly aim.
The thick, tight slide of Roger entering him is the single greatest thing Rayleigh has ever felt in his entire life. Any sex he ever had prior to this day pales in comparison. Can’t compare, period. It’s ecstasy. It’s a deep, delicious ache. It’s the sweetest relief. Rayleigh groans loud and long as Roger pushes in, head thrown back, mouth open, nails digging into Roger’s back. The sound echoes in the vast cavern around them.
“Jesus…,” someone nearby mutters.
Roger makes a broken whimpering noise in Rayleigh’s ear. His strong thighs are trembling. It must feel just as good to him. Rayleigh hugs him tighter, telling him without words that he’s doing great and that he loves him.
Despite their audience, Rayleigh can’t keep his voice down even a little bit when Roger starts driving into him. He’s rough and desperate about it. He fucks Rayleigh hard, plows him into the floor of the cave. Rayleigh moans like a whore, and his voice comes out high and breathless. If he were in his right mind, he’d be so embarrassed—not only at everyone seeing him take it up the ass, but at the sounds of enjoyment he’s making while doing it. But he can’t help it. It feels fucking amazing.
“Mmmghhh…!” Roger is making embarrassing noises too, though. He’s whimpering and gasping like he’s never felt anything so good in his entire life, eyes shut in bliss, every thrust shudder-y and jerky and completely uncoordinated. Whenever he can manage to crack his eyes open through the haze of pleasure, he stares only at Rayleigh’s face and absolutely nothing else. He seems to be hypnotized by Rayleigh’s expression of ecstasy. Looking at Ray makes him thrust harder and faster, like he’s trying to elicit more grimaces of pleasure, trying to make Ray’s eyes roll back into his head, trying to earn more proof of how good his cock feels to Rayleigh. He clearly wants to see Ray melting in bliss because of him, because of his efforts.
“Roger…!” Rayleigh gasps, all choppy because of the fast, rough thrusts. “I—!”
“I love you too!” Roger says before Ray can even finish his sentence. “Love you so much I could die!”
He kisses Rayleigh messily and passionately, slams into him a few more times, and then halts with a deep groan directly into Rayleigh’s mouth. Rayleigh makes a weird, involuntary, high-pitched sound when he feels Roger’s cock pulse inside him. He frantically gets a hand around himself and pumps himself a couple times and then he’s coming too, moaning in sweet ecstatic relief. It feels so fucking good, like all the molten sex-pollen-induced heat inside him is getting funneled out through his dick in rivers of cum.
The haze of lust slowly ebbs away as they both hold each other and catch their breath. Rayleigh feels like he’s waking up from a dream. One moment he’s in another dimension, and then the next, he’s looking up at the roof of the cave with fresh clarity, finally taking in sensory information from the world around him. He notices the hard, jagged ground beneath him, and the way a small rock is digging unpleasantly into his back. He notices the sound of dripping water somewhere near the back of the cave. He notices the dusk sunlight filtering through the cave entrance high above them.
He notices the sound of masturbation. He blinks a few times, and then glances to the right.
The rest of the guys are all very obviously jerking off. Most of them have angled their bodies away so that their dicks can’t be seen, but the movement of their right arms makes the attempt at modesty pointless. Some of them are even making out with each other while doing it. Rayleigh is mildly surprised to see that Gaban migrated over to Spencer at some point and is now on top of him, pinning him down and kissing his neck. Spencer seems to be enjoying it immensely.
Rayleigh clears his throat and averts his eyes back up to the ceiling. He can’t be mad—he started it, after all.
Roger shifts a little on top of him, gently sliding his dick out of Rayleigh. It makes Rayleigh hiss a little. He’s already a bit sore. And yet the motion still feels good, too. He cups the back of Roger’s head and gives him an affectionate scratch. With his other hand, he softly runs his fingertips up and down Roger’s sweaty back.
“I feel better. How about you?” he whispers.
“Yeah, me too,” Roger answers. He nuzzles under Rayleigh’s ear. “Way better. So good.”
Rayleigh can feel the physical proof of that leaking out of him. With both arms, he hugs Roger tight and gives him a soft kiss on his temple. The sweet gestures get Roger to prop himself up and look down at Rayleigh. He looks very satiated and very pleased.
“I wanna do that more,” he says bluntly.
Rayleigh snorts. “Okay.”
Roger beams and immediately leans down to kiss him. Rayleigh stops him with two hands planted firmly on his chest. Roger pouts.
“When we get back to the ship,” Ray clarifies. “We’ve embarrassed ourselves enough already.”
Roger huffs, grabs Rayleigh’s wrists, yanks his hands away, and kisses him hard anyways. Rayleigh makes a muffled mmph sound, but doesn’t resist. Can’t, really. He’s really happy, honestly. They make out for a while, tuning out the sounds of everyone else, sliding their hands all over each other greedily. Rayleigh is just starting to get worked up again when suddenly—
“Holy moly!” comes a booming voice from the ceiling.
Everyone startles. It takes them a second, but eventually, they all notice the shocked face of Prince Riku peering through the cave entrance in the ceiling. There’s a brief moment of silence, and then everyone is shrieking in horrified embarrassment and scrambling to cover themselves. Gaban throws himself off of Spencer and frantically pulls his pants up. Rayleigh pushes at Roger, urging him to get up and clothe himself too, but Roger is much more reluctant to do it. The bastard is never embarrassed or self-conscious about anything.
“Riku!” he shouts happily, waving to the prince while still on top of Rayleigh. “You came to rescue us!”
Rayleigh covers his face with his hands in utter mortification.
“Roger! I started to worry when you didn’t show up at the rendezvous point!” Riku waves back, surprisingly unperturbed by the sexual degeneracy he just stumbled upon. “I figured you might be here!”
“Really? How did you know?”
Riku laughs. “Last time I went hunting in this park, the same thing happened to me!”
“Oh! Falling down into this cave? Or running into the field of sex pollen?”
Riku lets out a heh heh. “Well…. I’ll leave that to speculation. I’ll go find some rope and get you guys out of there!”
He disappears. Rayleigh’s jaw is hanging open, as is Roger’s and everyone else’s.
“Could’ve warned us,” Gaban eventually grumbles.
Roger snickers and Rayleigh sighs. He glances at Roger on top of him.
Well. He’s not really complaining.