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There was something digging into his side. He wiggled a little to make it go away, and then, when it didn't, he rolled onto his back with a groan. He groped around blindly for the thing, and pulled out the Captain's stick. He squinted blearily at it, and rubbed his eyes because they clearly weren't working. The stick didn't disappear. And his sleeves were green, and his tie was really tight around his neck, and he was wearing trousers.
This felt like one of Robin's practical jokes. It must have involved blackmail to get the Captain to go along with it.
He scooted over to the edge of the bed and sat, looking down at the trousers. How the fuck had they managed this without waking him up?
Not just the clothes, he realised, looking around. They'd carried him to the Captain's room. Well, he could certainly appreciate a good prank.
He brought a hand up to cover a yawn, and found a moustache.
What the fuck.
His knees creaked as he stood up and made his way over to the Captain's mirror, squinting at the Captain, who squinted back.
Well. This was certainly unexpected. Maybe it wasn't a prank. Maybe he'd discovered a new ability. Maybe he could possess the other ghosts now.
Was the Captain in there with him?
"Blink if you can hear me," he said out loud.
He didn't blink.
Although that didn't really prove anything. Maybe the Captain couldn't control his body because Julian was in control.
Actually, if he was in the Captain's body, where was his body? Did it still exist? Was he completely "inside" the Captain? (Now there was a thought he would have to come back to. Later. He had to find himself first.)
Julian scrambled out of the room and ran straight into Pat.
"Oh! Captain! I didn't see you there," said Pat with a giggle. He was gripping the ends of his shorts and swaying from side-to-side.
Julian frowned, opening his mouth to ask Pat if he was okay, but then shut it again. No time for that, he had a body to find. And for once it wasn't headless.
"Have you seen my – Julian?"
Pat tilted his head and pursed his lips. "Sorry, Captain," he said. "I haven't seen him this morning. Have you checked his room?"
Yes. Good idea. With any luck, he was unconscious in bed, where he'd left himself.
"Cheers Pat," he said, before striding away.
It wasn't a lucky day. His body was, in fact, in his bedroom, but it wasn't unconscious. It stopped pacing when he burst through the door, turning to face him, his hands pulling down on his shirt tails to cover his modesty. It had frozen, as still as a statue, and was staring at Julian with an expression of furious disbelief.
It was weird to see himself from the outside. Must be like having an evil twin. Or a clone.
"What the bally hell is going on," said his body.
Well. That answered that question.
oOo
The Captain, as it turned out, had 'awoken promptly at 6am', 'appraised himself of the situation ' (noticed he wasn't wearing pants), and then had spent all morning trying to 'put himself to rights without leaving the room and exposing his nether regions to the world '. This, even after a lengthy explanation, only seemed to consist of wishing it away as hard as he could. Clearly it hadn't worked.
And now, instead of talking to the others to work out what the fuck had happened, they were still here, in Julian's bedroom, at a standstill.
"There's absolutely no way I'm leaving this room without trousers," the Captain hissed, moving to stand between Julian and the door. "And I refuse to let you leave and sully my good name by spouting filth with my mouth." With that, he crossed his arms. And then promptly uncrossed them to tug the front of his shirt back down.
"Don't bother with modesty," said Julian, waving a hand. "I've seen it all before."
"That's not the point," said the Captain brusquely. " I don't want to see it."
"Do you want these trousers?" asked Julian, gesturing towards the set he was wearing.
The Captain looked outraged at the suggestion. "And let my body be seen without?"
Julian sighed dramatically, then flounced over to the armchair and sat down with a flump.
"You're in my body now. Have some decorum, man!"
Trapped with the Captain. This was going to be awful.
"And stop slouching!"
oOo
The Captain was pacing, coming up with more and more ridiculous ways to get them back into their own bodies.
Julian was becoming increasingly bored, fidgeting in the armchair and picking at the itchy wool of his trousers. The belt around his waist was too tight, and he could feel it pressing into his back.
"For goodness sake," snapped the Captain. "You're representing His Majesty. Comport yourself like an Officer."
"Oh shut up," Julian snapped back. "If I knew how to get out of this body I'd give it straight back."
"Have you had any thoughts?"
Julian paused, considering. "Maybe scaring each other?"
"It works for hiccups," said the Captain dubiously. "But now that we're both aware of the possibility, I doubt it'll work."
And then, because they'd got onto the subject, the Captain decided that they should try all of the cures for hiccups, just in case.
When holding his breath hadn't become uncomfortable after what felt like a full five minutes, Julian exhaled with a gusty sigh and said, "This is never going to work, Cap. We don't need to breathe."
The Captain grumbled, but let his breath out too.
"What if we pass through each other," Julian suggested. "Horrible feeling, but maybe it'll – I don't know – trick our souls."
They had already collided, staggering back with an 'oof', when they realised that they couldn't pass through each other because they were both dead.
Bonking their heads together to 'put their minds back where they belonged' only caused pain, and then he was all out of ideas.
"Damn it and blast it to hell."
Getting inside of each other though… there was something to be said there… Maybe… He'd always wanted to fuck his clone. Shame it had the Captain's personality.
"Absolutely not," said the Captain, outraged.
"It's basically the same as masturbating, right? So no big deal," he said.
The Captain made a series of uncomfortable noises.
"I can make it so good," he said, "Who knows better how to fuck my body than me ."
The Captain's breath hitched.
"And," said Julian, thinking quickly. "Maybe it'll switch us back."
"Why on earth would that " – The Captain's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat – "switch us back?"
"Orgasm," said Julian. "The French call it 'la petite mort', or 'the little death', because it puts your mind on another plane of existence," he said, making it up as he went along. The Captain looked cautiously intrigued. "It… weakens the consciousness?"
"And that could well be enough to snap us back to where we belong," said the Captain with a jovial bounce. "Jolly good!"
"It'll have to be simultaneous," said Julian, stalking towards him.
"Oh, Good Lord." The Captain froze, apparently having processed what he'd just agreed to.
With one hand he pulled the Captain closer by the tie, and with the other he pushed him, two fingers on his sternum, over to the armchair.
The Captain, a wild, hunted look in his wide eyes, took small, halting steps backwards until his knees buckled on the edge of the seat and he folded gracelessly down.
Julian's knees creaked as he knelt down in front of the Captain's – his own – legs, and the Captain's breathing hitched. He pulled the Captain towards him, a hand behind each knee, spreading his legs until he was perched on the edge of the chair.
Julian ran a hand up his thighs, lightly grazing his hardening cock through his shirt. "Easy access," he said with a waggle of his brow, pushing it aside.
He'd never seen his cock from this angle before, and, if he could say so himself, it was magnificent. It was already hard, just from the light touches. Raring to go, as always.
Julian's – The Captain's – body was slower to react. He was hardening, but it was steady and unrushed, twitching a little as it was restricted by his clothing. The awkward pinch of trousers was a feeling Julian hadn't missed. He readjusted himself, palming his cock through the material while he was there, enjoying the answering throb.
"Earlier," said Julian, looking up at the Captain, "you said you didn't want me sullying your mouth." He breathed lightly over his cock, watching as it twitched.
He locked eyes with the Captain before saying, "Can I take that to mean it's never had a cock in it?"
The Captain swallowed audibly, his eyes moving to look past Julian. "It may have…once or twice."
"You naughty boy," said Julian with a grin.
He nuzzled his face into the heat of his belly and then licked a thick stripe up from the top of his pubes to his belly button. The Captain shivered.
He looked back up to the Captain and said, "We should make it thrice," then parted his lips and mouthed the tip of his cock. The Captain took a sharp breath in and closed his eyes.
Julian moved up and down his shaft, wet kisses interspersed with feather light patterns traced by his tongue, his hand spreading the slick. Then, without warning, he sucked the tip in and began bobbing his head.
The Captain's breathing grew heavy, but still quiet. His eyes were screwed shut, as if he was pretending that no one could hear him – that no one was watching. Julian wanted to break him.
He started to pay extra attention to his most sensitive areas, flicking his tongue against where the head met the shaft, and twisting his hand where it was following his mouth.
The Captain gripped the arms of the chair with white fingers – fingers which would be much better placed in Julian's hair. Julian grabbed a hand, pressing it firmly to the back of his head, and then grabbed the other to do the same. He reached up to his chest and pushed, until he slouched backwards, his head tipping over the back of the seat.
The Captain began to rock, ever so gently, and Julian decided to up the ante. He cupped his balls with his palm and squeezed, fingers finding the soft skin behind, pressing gently upwards. The hands in his hair made fists and the Captain bucked, making him choke a little and drool a lot.
"Apologies," said the Captain, letting go of his hair.
"Do it again," said Julian, swallowing him back down.
The Captain began to run his fingers through Julian's hair, scratching lightly at his nape, and Julian shivered.
He popped off for a second to suck on his fingers, then reached back under, this time tracing them all the way back, feeling the Captain jolt.
"You can't," the Captain choked out. "It's unsanitary."
"Captain. We're dead."
"Well yes, but– I– I've never– What if I don't like it?"
"Oh, you will," said Julian, keeping his finger in place. "I know what this body likes." He licked a long stripe up his shaft, sucking gently when he reached the head.
There was a tiny "Good Lord" and some throat clearing from above him.
He looked up at the Captain – at himself (and god wasn't that a turn-on). His eyes were screwed shut, his brows were furrowed, and his hands were still tight in his hair.
He made a questioning hum around his cock, and received a small, shaky nod of assent.
When the Captain relaxed into it, he pressed the finger inwards, slowly feeling the tight heat envelop him.
"Isn't that the point of this?" he whispered between kisses and nips. "For me to show you how good I can make you feel?"
"I– I– thought the point was to switch us back," the Captain gasped out.
"Potato, potah-to," was Julian's muffled response.
"That's not even the right—"
Julian crooked his finger in a way he knew would have the Captain seeing stars, and the Captain whimpered. He actually whimpered.
God he was hard. He really had to get out of these trousers.
All too soon, the Captain was tugging at Julian's hair. There was a tell-tale twitch of his balls that meant he was nearing the edge.
Julian's fingers stilled. He pulled his mouth off his cock, and squeezed it just below the head. "Now, now," he said. "None of that. We have to finish together, or it won't work."
The Captain whined, bucking upwards, chasing the sensations, but Julian held firm.
When he'd got the message, Julian crooked his fingers again, just once, just to watch him twitch, then pulled away.
He stood, slowly, and the Captain made to reach for his belt. "Not yet," said Julian, batting his hands away.
His body was clamouring for it, felt like it could go off at any moment, like it hadn't been touched in weeks, but Julian had stumbled into his only opportunity to fuck himself, and he couldn't waste it. He was going to make it feel so good.
"Come here," he said, taking a step back, leaving space for the Captain to stand. "You'll like this."
The Captain was wide-eyed and pliant. There was no objection when Julian led him to the bed by the tie, no complaint when Julian manoeuvred his limbs so that he was knelt on all fours. He even allowed his chest to drop when Julian pressed gently between his shoulder blades.
In fact, the only noise he made was the unsteady inhale when Julian licked up his taint, which was quickly muffled when he dropped to his elbows and buried his face in his forearms.
The Captain was rocking back into him by the time he began to stroke his cock, letting out a series of broken gasps which dissolved into shuddering pleas when Julian stilled his hand and squeezed again.
"Don't move," said Julian, suddenly desperate to get out of his clothes. He toed off his shoes, fought with the stiff belt, threw away the horrible scratchy jacket and tie, and fumbled his way down button after button.
Finally, blissfully nude, he took a moment to admire the Captain's body, running his hands down his chest. "Did you know your nipples were this sensitive?" he said, tweaking them.
His cock was different too– longer, but slimmer, and it curved slightly downwards. His hands were calloused on his shaft, scraping slightly as he stroked.
"Try pulling down on your balls," said the Captain from his position on the bed.
Julian tried it, rolling them between his fingers and tugging gently, sending unexpected shivers up his spine. His balls had never felt like that.
He padded back over to the Captain, knelt behind him and slipped his hands up the back of his shirt and jacket, rucking it up as far as it went. He pressed his hips close and rocked against him, groaning at the contact.
He reached around, hips and chest flush with his back, to rifle through his jacket pocket, pulling out a small bottle of lube.
"Why didn't you use that earlier," murmured the Captain when he clicked it open.
"Didn't need it," he said. "Knew you'd like it a little rough." He poured some out into his hand, rolled it around his fingers and pressed them back into the Captain, whose back arched delightfully.
He withdrew to slick himself up, and slowly pushed in, watching as the Captain's hands clutched at the bed, his breathing stuttering, his head dropping to the crook of his elbow.
Seeing himself like this was indescribable.
He shifted his hips, hypnotised by the way the muscles in his back rippled, by the sweat that had built up so that he was glistening. Shimmering.
He quickly became used to the subtle differences between their bodies, the sparks of pleasure that accompanied every slap of his balls. His strokes became deeper and wilder, the Captain meeting him thrust-for-thrust.
"You're such a little slut for me aren't you," he said, and the Captain moaned.
He gripped the Captain's shoulders, pressing him into the mattress. The Captain's hands scrabbled at the sheets, his knees slipping out from underneath him until he was rutting against the bed, letting out a punched out cry with every roll of Julian's hips.
"I– I need– please." The Captain's words were muffled into his shoulder.
Julian dropped to his forearms, bracketing the Captain's to hold them in place, mouth hovering over his ear. "Not yet," he breathed, and the Captain nigh on sobbed.
He wanted to draw this out, knowing that once it was over he'd be back in his own body, but he was losing control. This wasn't his body, and it wasn't going to last. He could almost feel the start of the end.
"Touch yourself," he whispered, releasing the Captain's right arm. "Let go." The Captain folded it beneath himself, and it wasn't long before he was shuddering and clenching around Julian, drawing intense heat from the depths of his belly.
He collapsed down on top of him, chest heaving, his mind blank, his body oversensitive and trembling with the aftershocks.
When he came to, he rolled over, onto his back beside the Captain, who had melted completely into the bed, curls sticking up in all directions, his eyes closed and his breathing was slow and even.
He was still in the wrong body, but maybe the Captain had the right idea. Maybe if he shut his eyes, maybe if he had a little nap, maybe…
oOo
His arm was numb.
There was a warmth pressed against his side, a weight on his chest snoring softly. He shifted, wiggled his fingers, trying to get his blood circulating. The weight buried itself deeper into his neck, and sighed. He opened his eyes, and looked down to see slick grey curls, tickling his nose.
Well fuck.
He tried not to wake him, tried to roll him off gently and get some feeling back into his arm, but he felt the Captain suddenly stiffen, then abruptly pull back.
"It didn't work, did it," he said.
"Afraid not, Cap."
"Blast. I was so certain it would."
"Worth a try though, wasn't it?"
The Captain hummed, noncommittal. "Maybe it's time to call in reinforcements."
oOo
"Let me get this straight," said Julian. "This has happened before?"
"Oh yes," said Robin. "This is my second time. Robin says it happens every hundred years or so."
"Is some-thing to do with moonah," said Mary.
"It be the devil's works, I say", said Humphrey.
"And it's affected all of you?"
There were murmurs and nods all round.
"And it'll just… go away by itself?" squeaked the Captain.
"Didn't Kitty tell you?" said Kitty.
"He didn't tell me he wasn't the Captain," said Pat. "I thought he hadn't switched! And then he was in such a rush to find Julian that I didn't get the chance to say."
"Do you think maybe I was in a rush because I didn't know what was going on?!" said Julian tightly.
"Oh," said Pat. "Well now I do."
There was a pause.
"Well," said Fanny, clapping her hands together. "It's an excellent opportunity for a new club! We can talk about what we did with our new bodies, and what we'd do if we were someone else!"
"It's been lovely to have full use of my arms for once," said Thomas. "I did a cartwheel!"
Julian and the Captain exchanged glances.
"Hmmm, yeah," said Julian.
"Nothing of interest to report here," said the Captain.
Later, as they were heading off to bed, the Captain cornered Julian on the landing.
"We are never talking about this."