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Polar Explorer RPF - Prompt Post 1
This is for prompts for all things general Polar Explorer RPF.
If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!
Under this umbrella you can prompt:
Prompts in line with adaptations of Heroic Age stories can also fit here, for example if you want to specifically prompt Hugh Grant!Cherry from The Last Place On Earth getting wrecked (which someone really should).
No blorbo too obscure for this post! EXCEPT: NO PEARY ALLOWED. God I hate that guy.
Rules:
Regular view: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html
Regular view, last page: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/925.html?page=999#comments
If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!
Under this umbrella you can prompt:
- Historical versions of Franklin Expedition(-adjacent) guys (Rossier, Gore/McClure, etc)
- Madhouse at the End of the Earth/Belgica Expedition
- Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration - Shackleton, Scott, Amundsen, Mawson
- Andrée Expedition
- Karluk Expedition
- etc
Prompts in line with adaptations of Heroic Age stories can also fit here, for example if you want to specifically prompt Hugh Grant!Cherry from The Last Place On Earth getting wrecked (which someone really should).
No blorbo too obscure for this post! EXCEPT: NO PEARY ALLOWED. God I hate that guy.
Rules:
1. Be fucking nice. YKINMATO/KINKTOMATO at all times.
2. This meme is CNTW (Choose Not To Warn) but warnings are highly encouraged.
3. Prompts should use this format in the subject line: [SHIP], [DESCRIPTION]
e.g.
Mertz/Ninnis, sex crying
Solo gen can be prompted as well alongside (a) character name and description
e.g.
Gen, Emil Racovitza, discovering a crazy new fish
4. Fills should use this format in the subject line: FILL: [TITLE], [PAIRING], [RATING], [ANY WARNINGS]
e.g.
Fill: The Very Next Day, Cherry/Birdie, E, cw self-harm
5. One prompt per comment please.
6. Multiple fills for each prompt are welcome!
7. You don't have to be anon for your prompts or your fills but we do encourage it because of the vibe. You're also welcome to deanon your stuff by posting on AO3/Tumblr as you please!
8. Feedback on prompts and fills is AWESOME; please take longer conversations to the discussion post.
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FILL: It happened one night... Madigan/Bickerton, E
(Anonymous) 2022-10-01 05:55 pm (UTC)(link)The first time, Madigan and Bickerton simply made brief, loaded eye contact across the breakfast table the following morning before both had to swiftly look away to avoid bursting into laughter. “About time,” Madigan muttered to Bick later, while they were struggling into Burberrys and crampons in preparation for the outdoors. Bickerton had snorted and agreed, and that had been that.
The second time was slightly less amusing. Bickerton was up next in the rota for night watchman and had been hoping to get a solid rest beforehand, something that was rather difficult with the boards of the bunk above him creaking and the soft but still unmistakeable sounds of passionate lovemaking floating down from on high.
By the time of the fourth incident -non-consecutive; his companions were blessed with youth but probably not even Ninnis could be said to be insatiable, and there were practicalities to be considered- when the hut lights went up and Bickerton met Madigan’s bleary gaze from the perpendicular bunk, he decided something had to be done.
He brought it up to Madigan while working on constructing the aeroplane hangar. Mertz and Ninnis were safely off attempting to wrangle the dogs into some semblance of working sled teams so there was little chance of the subjects of the conversation wandering into the middle of it. “Not much sleep for you either, then?”
Madigan didn’t reply, but what could be seen of his expression through the porthole of his hood was telling.
“Not to say,” Bick continued, shovelling snow with a concentrated air, “that I’m against it from a moral standpoint- I consider myself to be rather liberal, actually, and you can’t begrudge a man his comforts down here, if you ask me-”
“But it would be nice to be able to sleep at night without the two of them going at it like rabbits above our heads, yes,” Madigan completed. “Keep your hair on, Bick. I didn’t think you were about to propose hauling the two of them out for a court martial with ol’ D.I. They probably think they’re being quiet, don’t they? Do they think we haven’t noticed?”
“Oh, they certainly think they’re being discreet. As if we haven’t seen the two of them making eyes at each other just about since the Aurora dropped us off.”
“I don’t think I have the heart to tell them,” said Madigan glumly. “You know the worst part? Nin looked so unfathomably happy this morning that I couldn’t even feel anything but pleased for him. Bloody idiots. If they weren’t so in love I’d have clonked him on the head.”
“Love’s all well and good, but if I lose another six hours of sleep I’m going to smack them both,” said Bick, who was a practical sort. “We’re already in some of the worst conditions this continent has to offer, we can’t become insomniacs on top of it all.”
“Are you volunteering to break the news, then? Oh, Xav, Nin, my dear friends. Congratulations on sorting yourselves out and do let us know when are the upcoming nuptials, but in the meantime, if you would stop screwing each others’ brains out while the rest of us are trying to get some sleep-”
It certainly wasn’t a job to leap at. Mertz might take such a blunt approach in stride, possibly even with pride, but Bick could very vividly imagine how Ninnis would sink immediately through the hut floorboards and descend directly into Hell were he to be told that the entire corner and perhaps even the entire hut could, as a matter of fact, hear him gasping and begging for more of whatever Mertz had been doing to him the night previous (Bick had a fairly clear guess but he was trying not to interrogate it overmuch). No, Ninnis would be incinerated by embarrassment and possibly even pass away of it. He was already a bit of an awkward young man. Such a blow could only cause undue destruction of the fragile psyche, which had made such nice progress over the past few months of hard work and firm friendship.
“Perhaps we could tell them without really telling them,” Bickerton suggested instead. “You know. If we’re at a restaurant and you’ve got some soup in your beard but I don’t want to embarrass you, I might simply use my own serviette in a very exaggerated fashion, and you might pick up on the hint or simply think for yourself ‘Ah, I should also make sure I’ve got nothing on my face’. That sort of thing.”
Madigan squinted at him doubtfully. “But if we were at a restaurant and I had soup in my beard, you would point it out. Loudly. You like embarrassing me. Or trying to,” he added, and winked.
“Alright, I meant ‘you’ as in the general sense. Not ‘you’ you specifically.”
“Hm. But the question still remains: how? They clearly think that they’re being quiet. Or that the ruckus from the outside is loud enough to cover it all up. Should I start wondering loudly at dinner about what an eerie resemblance the wind last night had to the sounds a tall, skinny fellow might make were he having his arsehole licked by a Swiss man with a moustache?”
Bick made a face. “Let’s not go into detail.” Beloved his friends might be, but there were some things that should remain private. “Could always try to clatter about at night a bit more, then they’d pick up on the fact that sound really is travelling in that corner.”
“Time to increase the snoring,” said Madigan cheerfully. “Although really, it’s all faded to the background for me now. Probably won’t be able to sleep easy without it when we leave.”
“You could. You know.”
“What?”
“You know.”
“I really don’t,” said Madigan, perplexed.
Bick rolled his eyes. “You could have a bit of fun with yourself, or at least pretend to, make it loud- that sort of thing.”
“That won’t work,” said Madigan immediately.
“How’d you know?”
“Because I regularly give myself a bit of the ol’ whatsit, and none of you idiots have ever noticed before.”
“What?”
Madigan looked smug. “Oh yes. I haven’t even been particularly quiet. No one ever wakes up. Or at least no one’s ever said anything about it.”
Bickerton was dismayed. “You are part of the problem. You’re accustoming everyone to debauchery and this is the logical conclusion. Now I can’t sleep.”
“Hardly. If everyone could hear me, you certainly could. And it seems to me you’ve never been any the wiser.”
That one was going to require some serious shifting of Bick’s worldview. He regarded Madigan with a new suspicion.
“We could always pretend to be going at it together,” said Madigan, offhand. “Less ridiculous than simply making a nuisance all by one’s lonesome. And it might kill two birds with one stone, that. Alert our fine companions to the fact that we can hear them, but reassure them that we take no issue with the sort of social aspect, simply with the fact that it’s a disruption the old forty winks.”
Bick found himself momentarily at an utter loss for words.
“Because the implication would be that we are also raving sodomites,” Madigan said by way of explanation, evidently taking his silence for incomprehension.
“But we aren’t,” said Bick, regaining the power of speech. “Raving sodomites, I mean.”
“I did say pretend. And anyhow, I could be a raving sodomite. You wouldn’t know, would you? Who told you I wasn’t?” Madigan seemed rather offended, as if Bick was casting aspersions on his depth of character.
“Well I’m sure you have the capacity-”
“Of course I have the capacity. I’m a man of many talents.”
“Yet I’ve never heard any reviews from any former male paramours of yours, so I have to assume that either you’re not an invert at all or you’re a forgettable lover.”
Madigan flung a shovelful of snow at him. It wasn’t a terribly effective assault, as the wind was going crosswise to the way they were standing and most of the snow was whipped away before it could reach Bickerton, but the gesture had unmistakeably been one of war.
“So what do you say?” asked Madigan after the brief ensuing tussle had been more or less resolved and they were back to digging the walls of the hangar, albeit somewhat sweatier and more satisfyingly worn out than before. “Will you, Francis Bickerton, take me, Cecil Madigan, to be your raucous lover for one night and one night only?”
Bick pretended to mull it over, although he had already been onboard with the idea once he’d managed to wrap his head around it. He was usually susceptible to going along with Madigan’s schemes, damn the man. “Alright,” he said, once Madigan had begun to look suitably abashed and as though he were about to start adding backtracks and caveats to the plan. Bick might be easy but he liked to make Madigan twist a bit. It was no fun otherwise. “When you put it like that, how can I refuse?”
Re: FILL: It happened one night... Madigan/Bickerton, E 2/2
(Anonymous) 2022-10-01 05:58 pm (UTC)(link)Bick grinned, and winked back.
When the hut lights were turned down, they waited a while until the familiar, comforting sounds of even breathing and snores began to fill the space about them. Then there was a rustling, and Madigan crawled out of his bunk over to Bick on hands and knees, treading on Bick’s ankle as he did so.
“Ow!”
“Shh,” Madigan hissed. “Or- well, I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He clambered up and wriggled his way beneath the blankets and into Bick’s sleeping bag. “Alright,” he whispered, matter-of-factly, “how do we do this?”
“This was your idea,” whispered Bick. “Here- cuddle in a bit, why don’t you. No sense in not being comfortable.”
“You gentleman.” But Madigan obligingly curled closer on top of Bick’s chest. He was a bit like a stray cat, Bick thought. About as prickly as one, too, but loveable. It was quite nice to have him snuggled up like this. A good, solid weight, his arms neatly folded over Bick’s breastbone, his chin propped up on his clasped hands.
They looked at each other expectantly.
“Well?”
“Oh no,” said Bick, with as much cultured grace as he could muster. “Please. After you.”
Madigan rolled his eyes and breathed in like an opera singer about to let loose. “Ooohh.”
Bickerton frowned at him. The utterance had sounded like the weak enthusiasm summoned up by a man who had once again received a packet of handkerchiefs as a birthday gift when all he wanted was a new pipe. Very uninspiring. Really, he thought with exasperation, he had to do all the work around here.
“Oough,” Bick enunciated, eyebrows raised. See? That’s how to do it.
“Aaugh…?”
“Ough.”
Madigan snickered. Bick couldn’t quite blame him: even to his own ears, that last attempt had been rather a squeaky grunt than anything titillating. He was about to make another pass at it when Madigan made a moan like a dying whale and Bick had to genuinely bite down on the side of his hand to muffle the shout of laughter. When he had regained control of himself Madigan was grinning and shaking his head in quiet, mock disapproval. But there was a glint of competition in his eye that Bick knew all too well.
Oh, so it was going to be like that, was it?
He thumped his leg on the bunk and gargled out his best imitation of a seal honking on the ice. It sounded like a cross between a foghorn and a child choking on a crust of bread. Not terribly erotic, but it did make Madigan snort loudly, a sound he quickly attempted to morph into what he probably imagined to be a lust-stricken gurgle.
This was no good. Bick was going to start laughing properly and give the game away. It was all too much. He could feel Madigan’s shoulders shaking with repressed hilarity, bumping against Bick’s chin.
But then Madigan wriggled a bit, making himself more comfortable where he was settled in and made a genuinely pleased sound that vibrated against Bick’s stomach, and all of a sudden it wasn’t so funny anymore.
Perhaps it was that Bick was feeling reckless and giggly, as he often did with Madigan. Perhaps it was that Madigan’s thigh had slipped between his legs and pushed again his groin just as he made the sound. Perhaps it was just that Bick hadn’t been properly cuddled in what felt like years and pressed this close, with his warm breath on Bick’s face, Madigan was looking quite handsome.
Whatever it was, Madigan made that very pretty little sigh and Bick felt his face go hot. Within the space of two seconds, the warm weight on top of him went from feeling nice to very nice. From merely comforting to arousing. A deep-set shiver rippled pleasantly through his lower belly and his foot twitched. Hard. For a brief moment Bick hoped that Madigan might not have noticed his reaction, but it was no good. Madigan had paused, one eyebrow raised curiously. Then, slowly, he planted one hand on the hard mattress and propped himself up, half raised off of Bick’s chest though their bodies were still mostly tangled together in the sleeping bag.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” Madigan whispered, and reached between Bick’s legs.
“Nothing, go away,” Bick hissed back, and instinctively clamped his knees together. Of course this only served to press Madigan’s hand more firmly against the unmistakeable hardness in his woollen underwear, and he sucked in a sharp breath. Madigan, too, had swallowed harshly. His fingers twitched against Bick’s length.
“Bick-”
“Shut up. Sorry. It’s fine. You can-”
What Madigan could or couldn’t do, Bick never got to say. Madigan had stroked two fingers lightly up Bick’s now very insistent erection, just two clever fingers, and Bick moaned, a genuine moan, entirely involuntary. Madigan repeated the movement and Bick bucked against him, chasing it. “Christ.”
“Alright, but see, that’s quite good,” Madigan whispered slyly. “Do that again. Let me hear that.” He pressed his hand more fully against the front of Bick’s woollen underwear and Bick obliged. He could be easy. He let Madigan hear it.
Madigan’s hand on him felt far better than it had any right to. Good God, he thought, but he really was practically coming already just from having his prick fondled through a layer of scratchy fabric. But it had been a long time- Bickerton quite suddenly felt rather more sympathetic towards Mertz and Ninnis trying to bite their tongues these past nights. It was mollifying to see that Madigan seemed equally affected. His face, what could be seen of it in the darkness, was flushed and his breathing was elevated. He was good, too. He seemed to know just what Bick liked, fingers straying further down to pet at his inner thighs. Madigan’s full weight on Bick’s chest was grounding even as his thoughts began to sputter.
“If you keep going like that, you’d best know what you’re getting yourself into,” Bick managed to hiss between clenched teeth.
“What do you think I’m trying to accomplish here? Go on, then.”
It wasn’t a surprise when climax hit- Bick had been feeling it build ever since Madigan had first sighed as though he’d wanted to mould himself against Bick’s ribs and between his legs and stay there- but it was still quick. A sudden peaking of heat and a tightness in his belly and then it was over, leaving him gasping. He was certain he made some sort of noise, though he couldn’t have said what it was. Oh well. That was the object of the exercise, after all.
He wondered vaguely at the fact that Madigan seemed to have himself under control whereas Bick felt almost wild with touch. He wanted to make Madigan feel just as good as he felt now. To give him that blinding relief of another’s touch.
He shoved his hand down Madigan’s waistband and found that gratifyingly, Madigan was just as hard as Bick had been, dampness spreading across the front of his underwear. Bick got a hand around him and gave a gentle stroke: one, two. Madigan trembled against him. “Bick,” he choked out, “please.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. Bickerton would have given him just about anything right then; he wasn’t in the mood for dragging things out. He passed a quick thumb over the swollen head of Madigan’s prick, smearing about the wetness there to slicken his grip.
A few more purposeful tugs was all it took, and he twisted his other hand into the tangle of hair at the back of Madigan’s head, pulling at it maybe just this side of too hard but Madigan seemed to like it, eyes closed and head thrown back, panting harshly before he spilled over Bick’s fisted fingers with a low grunt as though he had been punched in the stomach, all the wind knocked out of him. He shoved his face into the crook of Bick’s neck like a man overwhelmed, damp breath coming quick against overheated skin.
“Shh, hey- none of that.” Bick tipped his head back up. Gently now with two fingers under Madigan’s chin. “Look at me. I want to see you.”
“Christ,” Madigan murmured, avoiding eye contact. “Sweet-talker you are.”
“Yeah. Look at me.”
Madigan did. Bick felt overcome with a rush of affection for him: his weather-beaten face, his thatched roof of hair. “Hello,” he said, and kissed him.
They kissed for some time. It was a bit backwards -probably the kissing should have happened before they had ejaculated all over themselves and each other- but it didn’t seem to matter much. They were in the southern hemisphere, after all. Everything was upside down and back to front here. Maybe for Madigan it was simply normal in this order.
After a few minutes Madigan pulled away, breathing hard. His eyes were wide in the dark. “Kissing isn’t loud.”
“Don’t care,” said Bick, and hauled him back down for more.
The next morning they were greeted by a wide, knowing smirk from Hurley, who slithered his way onto the bench between them at breakfast. “Well, boys,” he said, in confidential tones that somehow still carried throughout the entire main room of the hut, “happy to hear you two tying the knot last night. I’d been thinking to myself, now there are two lads who could do well by each other. Though of course, I personally believed our yearning pals over yonder would have been the first to do the deed.” He nodded in the direction of Mertz and Ninnis, who naturally had their heads bent together as they conferred over the wash basin. Mertz even had a proprietary hand at the small of Ninnis’ back. Sickening to see, if it hadn’t all been so bally charming.
Then Hurley’s words knocked their way through the final bulwark of Bick’s hazy early morning consciousness. “Hang on- what do you mean, you’d have thought Mertz and Ninnis would be the first? They were the first. They’ve been all over each other for weeks.”
“Longer than that I’d say,” said Hurley amiably, spooning lumpy porridge into his mouth. “But if you’ll forgive a bit of crudeness, I set my mark more by carnal consummation than simple lust-struck gazes.”
“But they did. They- carnally consumed ages ago! They’ve been keeping Mads and I up at all hours!”
“Have they really.” Hurley looked intrigued. “I haven’t heard anything from my bunk. Are you certain? Well,” he amended, answering his own question, “I suppose you must be. You are right below them. If anyone would know, you would. I suppose they just haven’t been as amorous as some.” He winked horribly.
The facts of the affair sunk in. On Hurley’s other side, Madigan looked about as outraged as Bickerton felt.
They finished breakfast in an indignant silence. The small consolation was that Ninnis studiously avoided Bick’s gaze when he sat down and all while they got ready for the day’s work outside. Mertz on the other hand only smiled his usual cheerful smile when they crossed paths bringing their outdoor gear down from the drying pegs, though he also winked and mimed locking his mouth shut and flicking away the key. Bick flung a friendly punch in the direction of his shoulder, which Mertz neatly dodged on his way out the door, laughing. So at least the plan had been successful in that aspect. Hopefully.
The other consolation was that it was beautiful outside. Sun shining, wind as absent as it had been that fateful day the Aurora had arrived at Cape Denison. Clear pale blue skies. Dogs gambolling joyfully in the snow, ice crystals glinting red, orange, purple in the brilliant light. Work would be fine in woollens and caps today. Pure bliss.
They were back at the aeroplane hangar. The walls were more or less finished: it was now mostly a matter of digging out the inside, which had since been piled high with drift. They really had to set up a proper door before the wind returned.
“Well,” said Bick heavily once they were alone, and then stopped. He wasn’t entirely certain what to say. Alarmingly, Madigan didn’t immediately hop in to fill the silence. That was unusual, and he felt vaguely knocked off balance. The world tilted the wrong way. How to proceed? It had been Madigan’s idea, sure, but Bick could hardly say that he hadn’t benefitted from the results. Even if Hurley did now think they were- what? What word could suffice in covering what Madigan was? Companion, colleague, pal, confidant, friend- “Well,” started Bick again, and the knowledge of precisely what to say suddenly sprang into existence in his mind like a wind whipping up over the top of Annie Hill. “That’s quite pulled the rug out from under us. I suppose now we’ll have to be the ones keeping carefully quiet in future, eh?”
Madigan had been leaning on his shovel staring a bit hopelessly about the hangar as if uncertain where to start. Now he looked up swiftly. “In future?”
“Sure. I mean to say. Only if you like.” Bick thought that he was probably blushing. But maybe Madigan couldn’t tell it from the windburn on his cheeks. “I know the wording of our contract was ‘one night and one night only’, but, if you wanted-”
“Yes,” said Madigan instantly. “I do. Want. I mean. It wasn’t really a contract, in any case. We didn’t even shake on it.”
“No, we didn’t.”
“So it’s alright if we backtrack. No legal repercussions.”
“Not at all. It was more like- a gentleman’s agreement. We could easily make another one.”
“I like the sound of that.” Madigan smiled then, half-bashful, half-wicked, and the world righted itself. “After all, we are gentlemen. And we are in agreement, no?”
“That we certainly are,” said Bick. He nudged Madigan’s shoulder and felt Madigan nudge back, leaning against him for just a second with familiar comforting solidity.
Re: FILL: It happened one night... Madigan/Bickerton, E 2/2
(Anonymous) 2022-10-01 06:34 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: It happened one night... Madigan/Bickerton, E 2/2
(Anonymous) 2022-10-01 07:30 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: It happened one night... Madigan/Bickerton, E 2/2
(Anonymous) 2022-10-02 02:07 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: It happened one night... Madigan/Bickerton, E 2/2
(Anonymous) 2022-10-03 10:34 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: It happened one night... Madigan/Bickerton, E 2/2
(Anonymous) 2023-01-05 07:42 pm (UTC)(link)