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Jesper approached the ramshackle boathouse with a healthy amount of trepidation. Mogens was far from his favorite person to interact with but as far as Jesper knew, he was the only man in town who could procure certain luxury items from the mainland. It had been nearly eight months since arriving in Smeerensburg--long, cold, miserable months (until he met Klaus at least) and Jesper was longing to get hammered on something that wasn’t the rough ale and mead sold at the local tavern.
Since the letters started coming in, Jesper saved up his pennies until he finally had enough squirreled away to afford the smallest bottle of his favorite kind of sherry. He figured he was due for a reward after all the hard work he’d been putting in as of late--shimmying down chimneys was not the easiest of tasks, nor was evading attack chickens or scaling trees.
He found Mogens on the front porch, his feet kicked up on the railing and his hat pulled down low over his eyes. He cracked one open when he heard Jesper’s footfalls approaching, a smirk already forming on his lips.
“Well, if it isn’t the littlest postman,” Mogens teased.
“Hah-Hah,” Jesper deadpanned. “Listen, can I get you to do me a favor?”
“I thought you’d never ask!” He made a show of reaching for his belt, “So do you want to do it here or…”
“Can you be serious for like half a minute?” Jesper interrupted his bawdy joke, suddenly feeling very tired.
“Fine, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Mogens put his feet down and leaned forward, giving Jesper his full attention. He gestured in a grandiose motion, “Do, go on.”
“You can get things, right? Things you can’t find on the island?”
Mogens quirked a brow, “That depends,” he drawled, scratching his stubbled chin. “What does his highness request?”
Jesper chose to ignore the jibe in favor of getting to the point. “A bottle of sherry.”
“Sherry, you say? Any particular variety?”
“Palo cortado, if you can find it,” Jesper replied quickly, his mood brightening at the follow-up question, which he took as a good sign.
Mogens whistled. “It won’t be easy...but I think I may be able to get that for ya.”
Jesper’s eyes lit up and he smiled, “Great!”
“For a finder’s fee, of course.”
“Great.” Jesper’s shoulders drooped, his tone going sour. “How much?”
“Twenty percent.”
“You’re kidding.”
“‘Fraid not, kid.”
Jesper groaned, “Look, it took me this long just to save enough for the sherry. I don’t have that kind of cash.”
“Oh, darn, that’s too bad,” Mogens said, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet back up.
“Come on,” Jesper implored him, leaning over the rail to meet Mogens eyes under the brim of his hat. “Can’t we make a trade or something?”
Mogens considered him for a moment, eyes darting over Jesper’s face as he seemed to reach some kind of decision. The smarmy grin forming on his lips was not encouraging.
“Oh God. What is it?”
“Well, luckily for you,” Mogens said, voice dropping into a seductive purr, “I do accept... other forms of payment.”
The captain watched understanding click within the depths of those expressive brown eyes and the postman straightened up, his face going a comical shade of red.
“Oh, no you’re not-- we’re not...no. Absolutely no way.”
Jesper glowered at him, having the gall to clutch his chest like some kind of affronted damsel. Mogens laughed outright, which only served to rile him up more.
“Suit yourself, sweetheart,” Mogens shrugged and closed his eyes again, hands folding over his stomach as he settled back in.
Despite his eyes being shut, he knew Jesper was still there, fidgeting in the snow. He mentally counted down from ten and only got to five before Jesper said, “Alright. What do you want me to do?”
“Well now, that’s more like it.” Mogens swung his feet back to the floor and stood, stretching out his back with a series of meaty crunches that made Jesper wince. He reached for the door and motioned for the other man to follow.
“Why don’t you step into my boudoir so we can discuss it more privately?”
Jesper exhaled sharply through his nose; his mouth tightened into a line but he didn’t say anything. He stiffly followed Mogens into the house, fists twisting the hem of his uniform with nervous energy. His ‘boudoir’ was actually just a one room shack with a warmly burning stove at the back center, a bed off to the left and a table with a mirror, basin, and shaving supplies occupying the right side. One wooden chair and an overturned barrel served as seating. Compared to the post office, it was actually a step up, though Jesper was loath to admit it.
“Have a seat anywhere you like,” Mogens said, closing the door behind them. He dropped down onto the side of his bed and Jesper sat in the chair, looking prim and out of place with his hat in his lap like a good boy.
“Now, let’s get down to brass tacks,” Mogens started, sizing up the man in front of him and envisioning all the things he’d like to do to that lithe body and smart mouth.
Jesper fiddled with his hat, feeling decidedly hot under the collar as the sailor’s eyes raked over him shamelessly.
“How old are you anyway?” Mogens asked, mostly out of curiosity.
“I’ll be twenty-four next week,” Jesper quietly replied, avoiding his gaze.
Mogens chuckled. “My, my. Look at me, robbing the cradle.”
Jesper scowled. It was always one or the other. Either he was too young to be taken seriously or too old to be acting like a child. Why couldn’t he just be ?
Mogens scratched the back of his neck and sighed, looking apprehensive.
“Well I can’t really expect you to know what you’re doing now, can I? Probably too inexperienced to be very good at anything. Tell you what, why don’t we keep it simple? How bout a blowjob, sport? Think you could handle that?”
Jesper’s brain clamored to keep up with that volley of insults, unsure which injustice he should address first. Instead of arguing his point in words, he resolved to show Mogens just how well he could handle it. There were precious few things he was good at and sucking dick was one of them. He was going to blow this man’s mind and make him eat his words.
Mogens watched Jesper rise to his feet and he assumed the other man had finally had enough and chickened out. What he didn’t expect was for Jesper to cross the room in two long strides and drop to his knees in front of Mogens. He even shucked out of his coat and rolled up his sleeves to show that he meant business. The captain blinked down at him in utter shock as he went to work unbuckling Mogens’s pants, pulling them open enough to get at his underwear.
He leaned back on his hands to give Jesper more room, his cock having leapt to attention as soon as Jesper’s knees had hit the ground. Slender, dextrous fingers unbuttoned his long johns and reached inside without hesitation, wrapping his hand around the other man’s considerable girth. Mogens hissed, hips jumping at the coldness of Jesper’s fingers but they soon warmed to match the heat of his erection, squeezing him to full hardness before pulling him out into the open.
Jesper considered the cock in his hand; it was big but nothing he couldn’t handle.He pumped it up and down and watched the clear fluid start to slip down the shaft to wet his fingers. Without warning, he leaned forward and flicked his tongue over the tip, testing the salty tang with a hum and deciding he wanted more. He licked Mogens from root to tip before closing his mouth over the head and sucking gently.
The ferryman let out a strangled shout as he was engulfed in wet heat, Jesper taking him in slowly, tongue rolling along the bottom of his shaft, as he sank deeper and deeper.
“Holy shit,” Mogens swore as the tip of his cock touched the back of Jesper’s throat. Big doe eyes flicked open and locked with his own as Jesper swallowed around him. “Fuck!” he cried, flailing out for purchase and finding a soft mop of blond hair to sink into.
Jesper pulled off to catch his breath, stroking him all the while, letting the tip rest against his flushed bottom lip before sucking him back down with expert fluidity. Mogens throbbed on his tongue and against the palm of his hand where he worked the bottom half of his prick. The hand in his hair was surprisingly gentle as he picked a rhythm, adding a hint of teeth here and there just to keep him on his toes.
Moans and wet sounds filled the small space as Jesper sucked him off with what could only be called spite. He worked with such single minded determination--Mogens had honestly never seen anything like it. He couldn’t watch for long; the searing pleasure paired with the sight of his cock disappearing again and again between those pink lips was pushing him rapidly towards an embarrassingly fast climax.
Jesper felt the fingers tighten in his hair, Mogens’s breath coming fast. Just as his balls started to draw up, Jesper pulled off of him entirely, letting the cold air stave off his encroaching orgasm. He let loose an impressive barrage of curses as his cock pulsed a stream of pre-cum over Jesper’s fingers.
The younger man chuckled, keeping his hand utterly still while Mogens squirmed and struggled. He pressed a cheeky kiss to the purple head of his erection.
“You’re a real little bastard, you know that?” Mogens growled between clenched teeth.
Jesper responded by blowing cool air over the head of his dick.
“Not so inexperienced now, am I?”
“Fine, I was wrong! You’re an excellent cocksucker. Are you happy?”
“Quite,” Jesper said, and swallowed him back down in one practiced slide.
He redoubled his efforts, sucking and humming when Mogens started stroking his hair, pulling just enough to make Jesper’s spine tingle. The sailor was losing himself, head tipped back toward the ceiling, thighs starting to tremble under Jesper’s grasp as he focused on the head, tongue swirling in maddening circles over the sensitive underside.
“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” Mogens groaned, as Jesper’s mouth and hands brought him back to the edge, “So close, baby.” The endearment slipped out with no permission but Jesper didn’t seem deterred. Mogens prayed to whoever would listen that the postman would actually let him finish this time.
“Look so good taking my cock,” he praised, pushing Jesper’s hair back to watch better. Jesper’s eyes flashed open just in time to meet Mogens’s heated gaze before his orgasm hit. “Oh fuck, I’m coming,” he gasped, and that was Jesper’s only warning before his mouth was flooded.
He swallowed and pulled back to cough, the next thick stripe landing right across his face before he could get his mouth back around the spurting cock. Mogens teared up and felt like he was close to blacking out as Jesper sucked and stroked him, swallowing everything he was given. When Mogens was finally spent, Jesper pulled off, gasping for breath and red cheeked, swiping the cum off his face with a look of mild displeasure.
Pulling a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket, Jesper cleaned his face and hands as Mogens just sat there staring at him in a stupor. Finally, he gathered the wherewithal to tuck his dick away just as Jesper was rising to his feet and pulling his coat back on. He cinched the belt tight around his waist and settled his hat back on his head.
“Are we good?” he asked, suddenly bashful now their transaction was over.
Mogens hadn’t missed the tent in Jesper’s pants before he covered himself up and knew he wasn’t as unaffected as he seemed.
“Oh, I’d say we’re more than good. In fact, feel free to come back any time.” Mogens said cheerily, feeling giddy and loose limbed like he hadn’t in a long while.
Jesper grumbled something under his breath and made a beeline for the exit.
“Pleasure doing business with you!” Mogens hollered over the slamming of the door, chuckling as he settled in for an excellent nap.