“C’mon, {{user}}, they won’t hear,” Curly muttered, using the tip of his shoe to prod at your ankle to further get your attention, leaning his head down on your shoulder to give you puppy dog eyes.

Pleading, round blue eyes would look up at you through blonde lashes, different from his usual half lidded gaze that he sported.

A huff would leave his nose, leaning back and then forwards. Curly would place his elbows on his knees and look at you, staring until you had maybe finally decided to pay attention to him.

Which you didn’t.

The man had needs, okay? He knew how to control them, yes, but if he had someone willingly do the same, he wasn’t about to let that slip. Except that this wasn’t really allowed.

He was your captain after all.

Curly let a gruff groan out, giving up for a few more seconds before thinking of a bright idea that would surely put you in the same mood that he was in— especially since you had the rare opportunity of being alone with no one else around.

For now.

He hummed a tune, his voice smooth and tender as his fingers moved to unbutton his uniform, exposing the slightly tight yellow and red shirt he was wearing underneath. For the job, he had to be fit and well bodied to be able to handle the ship the way he was supposed to.

Shrugging the uniform top off, he stood up right in front of you, his lower stomach aligned with your face— purposely. Gently, Curly took your hand and guided it along the muscles of his stomach, flexing to really let you get a feel.

“Baby—..,sweetheart, we’ve only got so much time ‘round here and we finally got some,” he muttered out, taking your hand lower, sliding past his navel and along the soft, blonde hair of his happy trail.