Chapter 88

The navigator, who often went swimming naked with the pirates in the sea, was very calm about being seen. He propped himself up with his hands, turned slightly, and patted the sturdy arm of the captain, whose face was so dark it could drip ink: “Snap out of it.”

“You didn’t lock the door just now,” Caesar said, his tone not the best. His gaze followed the sharp line of the black-haired young man’s shoulder downward, scanning lightly over his shoulder blades. His words were a statement, and even a fool could hear the dissatisfaction in them.

“You didn’t tell me to lock it,” Miguel said innocently. He paused, then turned to meet the man’s gaze. “Let’s make a deal. You can take your fingers out, and then we can sit down and have a proper discussion about this—ow ow ow ow ow! Fuck your uncle, you damn dog—”

The captain casually took out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his hand, and threw it to the ground with a sense of vindication. He stepped aside, reached out, and flipped the navigator over like a turtle, making him lie flat on the narrow bed. Facing the resentful gaze, the man chuckled lightly: “You told me to take it out.”

“Did I tell you to take it out so fast—would it kill you to go slower? Would my ass bite your fingers off? You pulled my intestines out, you bastard!” Miguel clutched his butt and glared at Caesar, feeling the fiery pain deep in his soul, akin to the agony of a constipated person on the toilet.

Because his leg was inconvenient, the black-haired young man struggled to sit up and patted the man sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, dragging out his words: “Alright, that’s enough for today, we’ll continue next time… After being so maliciously retaliated against by Rick, my lower half has gone soft.”

Caesar grunted in acknowledgment, then said something that made Miguel want to faint—he looked the navigator up and down and, in a tone that seemed to have just woken up, said, “Yeah, you don’t look as appealing anymore.”

“Of course, you’re right,” Miguel took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to pounce and bite the man’s neck, forcing a grim smile. “You’ve touched me, seen me, kissed me—except for the actual act of sealing the deal, you’ve pretty much molested this product that’s still in the return period. And now you’re telling me you’re not satisfied with the model? How shameless can you be—is that even appropriate?”

Faced with the biting sarcasm, the captain magnanimously reached out a large hand and patted the navigator’s head like soothing a child: “I didn’t say I wanted to return it.”

“Of course, on the sea, it’s all water—you wouldn’t even know where to return it if you wanted to!”

Caesar decided not to argue with him. Knowing the navigator’s tendency to climb up a pole when given one, they could discuss this issue until the next night.

With his emotional needs unmet, he had to take care of his physical needs himself. The man glanced at the navigator, who had lost interest as quickly as it came and was now eagerly preparing to spectate. He sighed, using his large hand to grasp his throbbing member, lamenting that it had been centuries since he last had to resort to this method of relief. As he stroked from top to bottom, the eager spectator finally couldn’t resist and reached out a hand to brush against his thigh—

“Either go all the way,” Caesar snorted, “or don’t touch me at all.”

“What’s wrong?” Miguel chuckled, raising an eyebrow to glance at the frustrated man. “Why are you mad at me? Blame your Rick for not teaching him to knock before opening a door instead of kicking it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here jerking off right now.”

For the first time, Caesar found himself at a loss for words: “…”

Miguel: “But I should thank Rick. If it weren’t for him, I might’ve accidentally let you have your way. Just thinking about it makes me shudder.”

Caesar let out a disdainful laugh, boldly extending the hand that had been busy with the up-and-down motion to grip the navigator’s chin: “What was your original plan?”

“Me topping you.”

“Never gonna happen.”

“A man with dreams has a future,” Miguel shamelessly replied, almost lying on the captain’s lap. Using the dim light in the cabin, he leaned in to study the man’s erection, which was almost touching his abdomen, with an academic curiosity. “Do you even know how to take care of yourself? You’re about to rub the skin off—”

As he spoke, his warm breath hit the extremely sensitive flesh, causing it to twitch uncontrollably.

Miguel let out a very annoying “Oh my” and pulled back. “You’re about to rub the skin off, and yet it’s still so lively?” A sense of superiority as a modern single male college student surged within him—when it came to solo performances, he was a master trained from childhood (…).

Miguel smiled so hard his eyes almost disappeared, ready to mock a little more, when suddenly the large hand that had been gripping his chin pressed his head down firmly. The navigator’s half-opened mouth accurately took in the tip of the man’s throbbing member, which was oozing with clear fluid.

The navigator’s smug smile froze on his face.

The captain’s lips curled up, and he snorted matter-of-factly: “Then you do it.”

One hand caressed the stiff body of the man beneath him, appreciatively stroking his firm, perky buttocks. When he heard the person currently sucking on his lower half let out a muffled moan, the warm breath hitting his sensitive area, which was already on the verge of exploding, couldn’t handle the stimulation. Within the warm, moist enclosure, it twitched with renewed vigor—

Fearing another facial, the navigator quickly pulled away, spitting twice before grabbing Caesar’s hand and throwing it back onto his own member with a look of utter disgust—

The man helplessly rubbed his tip with his fingers and then released.

This was definitely the most reluctant orgasm he had ever had in his life. After a pause, under Miguel’s mocking gaze, he bent down to pick up the handkerchief he had thrown on the ground earlier, wiped his hands, and then picked up the navigator again. He kicked open the door of the peephole cabin and descended the stairs along the cabin wall back to the bilge—

Rick had already left, and the bilge was now very quiet. The faint sound of the mermaid swimming in the pool could be heard. On the stairs leading from the deck to the bilge, the morning sunlight shone on the top steps, and dust danced in the light. It was already dawn.

…

What Miguel didn’t expect was that the crew of the Wind Fury could be quite inhumane when it came to gossip.

When Caesar carried him back to the deck, starting from the exit leading to the deck, two rows of pirates stood there, like hotel staff bowing and saying “Welcome.” A group of pirates, missing limbs, with fierce faces and untrimmed body hair, stood on the deck. When Caesar and Miguel appeared, hundreds of eyes turned to the right in unison, as if someone had shouted a command—

Even the captain of the Wind Fury was momentarily stunned.

“What are you doing?” Caesar asked expressionlessly, very calmly.

“When I came up this morning, a group of pirates were about to go on duty, but I stopped them,” the red-haired first mate of the Wind Fury said from the second deck, leaning crookedly against the railing. He held a glass of rum in his hand, smiling brightly despite a night of indulgence and no sleep, his eyes sparkling. “I told them the captain and the navigator didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Caesar: “…”

Rick: “You came out faster than I expected. I didn’t prepare breakfast for you two, hope you don’t mind.”

Caesar: “…”

“Alright, don’t just stand there, brothers,” Rick placed his glass on the floor, straightened up, and clapped his hands like a kindergarten teacher. “What did I teach you earlier?”

The first mate’s words woke the pirates from their daze. After a brief silence, a stuttering “Congratulations, Captain” came from somewhere in the crowd. Then, the deck of the Wind Fury erupted with voices, one after another: “Long live the Captain,” “The Captain is eternal,” “Men are better than women,” and so on. In the midst of the uproar, Miguel was certain he heard phrases like “the Captain’s man.”

The expression on Big Dog’s face was priceless.

A mix of embarrassment, confusion, amusement, and anger—a once-in-a-thousand-years sight.

Miguel looked up and saw that at the end of the crowd, a long-haired young woman was leaning on the ship’s railing. Zhi Zhi, who loved a good spectacle, clearly hadn’t missed this opportunity to join in the fun. At that moment, she was enthusiastically cheering along with the crowd. When she noticed Miguel’s gaze, she even waved her arm at him in greeting!

As the pirates on the deck began to clap wildly, and the band struck up the wedding march—a tune they would likely never play again—Miguel felt like he had encountered the most surreal moment since his transmigration—

Mermaids and ghost ships were nothing!

He had slept with a man, and the next morning, hundreds of people were cheering and clapping for their escapade, complete with a musical accompaniment.

The world has gone mad!