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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: The Most Dangerous Game, Emil Racovitza/Georges Lecointe, comedic misunderstanding, E, [2/2]
(Anonymous) 2022-10-06 03:11 am (UTC)(link)The stalemate could have persisted for even longer, with Lecointe’s original plan to win at all costs drifting away like snow in the wind as he settled into a sort of status quo.
But it was when Lecointe found himself in bed, recalling the memory of Racovitza’s kind words and tender care for him after Wiencke’s death, and becoming more than a little bit aroused, that he realized that things were not as they should be. Raco gently drying him with a towel, slipping his limbs into a clean clothes, gathering him into his arms and speaking softly into his ear… To be thinking of that moment in such a way! An insult to poor dead Wiencke, as well as to himself! Good God!
He would have to draw this whole affair to its conclusion posthaste. Surely Racovitza when faced with that final, terminal option would bow out at last, leaving Lecointe the victor. Surely…!
So that very night, when he and Racovitza were the only ones left in the wardroom, and de Gerlache was surely asleep behind his cabin door, Lecointe came to sit next to his friend on the sofa.
“Raco,” he said softly, and Racovitza looked over so kindly and eagerly, and it was quite easy to lean in with his mouth puckered up…
He expected—naturally, he had expected Raco to dodge the bullet, to give a good-natured shout of “You win!” and raise the white flag, so to speak. He did not expect Raco meet his lips in a passionate kiss that went on for a good while, Raco leaning back so that Lecointe’s weight fell atop him, groping at his behind. Raco’s warmth was so familiar, such a source of comfort, and he kissed so sweetly and excellently that it took a while for Lecointe’s conscious mind to catch up to what was happening…!
Eventually it did occur to him in a flash: and he leapt up from the sofa, nearly toppling over in the process, but he found Raco’s outstretched hand in time to prevent a fall.
Raco said, “Calm down! We have time. But I must know, what took you so long?”
“So—so long? I don’t understand!”
“We have been as good as married, my good captain.” Raco held his hand gently, massaging his palm. “For months now we’ve been spending nights together, and yet you dawdled on—I worried something was amiss, with my face or the smell of my breath, or perhaps you were just old fashioned—but at last, now we can get down to the business of consummation!” He stood up, looming over Lecointe; then reached around to place both hands around Lecointe’s waist and tug him forward until they were belly to belly.
Lecointe sqeaked, twisting out of Raco’s grip, and then spluttered, “Married?! But I—am already betrothed, you know this!”
“I mean for the purposes of the expedition!” Racovitza scoffed, as if it were obvious. “My good sir, you don’t think anyone other than Lieutenant Amundsen and perhaps our commandant is really capable of following Cook’s advice, do you? The seamen have long paired off for their own comfort in the Ladysless South! I believed we were following the enlightened lead of the lower classes.”
Why had he believed it would be possible for him to do as Cook said? It suddenly seemed quite idiotic in retrospect. He was a red-blooded man, after all, with physical needs like any other.
“Georges Lecointe,” said Raco now, his voice dropping, suddenly quite serious as he leaned in, “we might die out here. Yes?”
Lecointe, brow furrowed, nodded minutely. It was useless denying such a thing as they all knew too well.
“Precisely!” Raco wagged a finger. “And should you like to send me to my cold and watery grave having gone totally unsatisfied since May of 1893? Is that fair to such a majestic creature?”
“Over four years ago?!” yelped Lecointe, the calculation performing itself quite involuntarily. “But—but you’re so—That simply isn’t possible!”
“I know!” Raco broke into a sort of sensuous dance, with his hands running up and down his body, as if to demonstrate his own physical appeal, and the unfairness of it going unrecognized for so long. “But unfortunately, it’s true. I experienced heartbreak, and regret—and then buried myself in my studies. The result was, I didn’t have a single girl to share my room with in between then and leaving for the expedition. All that pent-up energy, well, it’s still pent up.” He crudely cupped himself at the front of his trousers to demonstrate, and immediately a desperate heat began to curl urgently at the base of Lecointe’s own cock. He had the impulse to cross himself and say a prayer. Who was the patron saint of buggery?
“Now, I figure… you are the type to go your whole life without exploring the coastline of your Antarctic regions, so to speak. Is that true?”
“I’ve never put anything up my ass, Raco! If that’s what you mean!” He could not help how high his voice went at the declaration.
“I see, just as I thought. Well, there is plenty of time for experimentation later. I suppose you could bugger me tonight, but…”
He tugged down his suspenders, underwear, and patched trousers, revealing the chestnut-furred regions of his upper legs; and the dark shape between, just hidden by the shadow of his shirt-hem, of what surely promised to be a handsome member. Another spasm of want bloomed inside Lecointe; he resisted with military strength the wildly foreign urge to drop to his knees. “How about my thighs? Or…” Raco stripped off his woollen jumper, unbuttoned the shirt beneath, and then gathered up the ample flesh there with his hands and pushed his nipples towards each other, creating—”how about my lovely breasts, eh?”
Presented with such options, Lecointe was quite overwhelmed. This was not how he expected his evening to go. They had not even been frozen in for three months and here he was, about to have congress with by far the most appealing man onboard the ship—
Ah, but it was not so strange for him to be excelling in a chosen field, was it, after all?
He cleared his throat. “Your thighs will do. I suppose.”
“Yes, Captain!” A rakish salute, and then Raco flung his unbuttoned shirt to the ground, leaving him more or less naked, excepting his trousers puddled around his his shoes and socks. Lecointe was fairly arrested in contemplation of the grand image before him; so in a happier mirror image of that earlier time, Raco busied himself with getting Lecointe’s clothes off, although he left the shirt on, in apparent kindness to Lecointe’s tendency towards gooseflesh.
Before Lecointe had time to feel utterly, sadly scrawny and hairless compared to Raco’s decorated bulk, the naturalist produced some sort of scientific ointment from a nearby shelf. He warmed it up with a few rubs of his palms, and then raised an eyebrow as he brought a hand close to Lecointe’s cock, hesitating.
“I won’t go off in your fist,” Lecointe said, impatiently. “I’m not a boy.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“You were.”
God, but he was very hard already, and the half-dozen tugs Raco gave his prick to ready it were very nearly enough, despite his promise. Raco’s tongue flicked out from between his teeth, as it did when he concentrated, and Lecointe had to look away.
“Go to the table,” he ordered eventually. Raco gave another parodic salute and did as he was told; during which Lecointe made direct eye contact with the man’s cock in the process of engorgement, and—well, he had the thought that they might trade places, like they did while waltzing, and Raco could slip in between his thighs, and what a sensation that might be, and perhaps then he might not go off within the next half-minute.
Then he considered the relative pleasure his own stringy hams would give, compared to what Raco had on offer, and thought better of it.
In any case all questions of alternatives were erased by the time he was pressing into the slick channel of Raco’s legs from the back. Nearly immediately the sensation had him letting out a bitten-off moan. He raked a hand up and down Raco’s back, digging his nails in, and was rewarded with a grateful noise from beneath him, and muscles flexing and tightening around his cock.
He slowed his thrusts, savoring the close heat, that sheer radiance of not just temperature but of character which emanated from somewhere deep inside the man before him, which Lecointe did not know if he or really anyone on the Belgica could survive without. When the sun finally departed for good, Lecointe knew he would need him even more than he did now…
“It feels good for me too, by the way,” Raco said, sounding muffled against the table.
“I assumed so,” panted Lecointe.
“Ah, you should never assume, sir! Some men are downright numb in between the legs! It must be a biological property of the epidermis!”
So before his drought, he must have been a whore indeed, came the thought unbidden, to know the typical states of other men’s thighs.
Oh, and that had done it—that filthy image—and he was able to give Raco just a few second’s warning before tipping into his crisis, expelling a long stream of ungentlemanly expletives as he did so. Raco said something in Romanian which Lecointe couldn’t quite parse, but even assuming it was a slur on his prematurity, he found he was too full of pleasure to mind. He stumbled to sit stickily on the rug; when he looked up through a haze he saw Raco industriously working at his own cock, the gleaming broad head poking through the top of his fist in a steady rhythm.
“Let me,” said Lecointe, making dazed overtures to assist, but Raco waved him down.
“Just watch,” he said, and Lecointe did watch, as within a minute Raco spilled in healthy spurts over his hand, streaks of pearl running down his hairy knuckles. Somehow he managed to get a sock off, which he used to clean up, and then flung generously at Lecointe.
“Close your mouth or the flies will get in,” Raco said, sitting down beside Lecointe on the rug, and then sprawling onto his back, supine and content, like a housecat purring in front of a fire. His bared chest looked invitingly pillowlike; but Lecointe refrained, frowning.
“You thought we were—’good as married’—this entire time?” he said.
Raco waved a hand. “It seemed clear to me.”
Lecointe thought for a moment. And then another moment.
“If you thought so,” he said slowly, “what must the other officers think? And the men! The way we have been going about! Oh, God!”
Raco stared at him, and then burst into laughter. “Oh, you are a very silly man,” he said, and then pulled Lecointe down on top of him, putting the issue off for at least a little while longer.
Re: FILL: The Most Dangerous Game, Emil Racovitza/Georges Lecointe, comedic misunderstanding, E, [2/
(Anonymous) 2022-10-06 03:31 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: The Most Dangerous Game, Emil Racovitza/Georges Lecointe, comedic misunderstanding, E, [2/
(Anonymous) 2022-10-06 03:45 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: The Most Dangerous Game, Emil Racovitza/Georges Lecointe, comedic misunderstanding, E, [2/
(Anonymous) 2022-10-06 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)