A prompt by WriteLikeAnAmerican, going along with our recent streak of pregoYondu.

"I bet you can't" was all it took. Yondu, the competitive ass that he was, has rarely turned down dares aimed to show everyone his superior strength, agility, endurance, and all other aspects that made him, clearly, the best one on the entire crew.

Kraglin, having spent many years with the Centaurian, starting as the sassiest engineer this side of the galaxy, sniping back at then pilot Yondu, who kept sending him request for maintenance. One memorable occasion occurred when upon a submission of a note that the M-ship was handling funny, Yondu received an answer that said ship was warned to straighten up, fly right and be serious.

That was a start of a beautiful friendship that was built on flawless execution of commands, done with a personal twist, sass, snark, cursing in 7 different languages, and eventually a fast and angry fuck in the supply closet between raids.

Now, over a decade later, and every closet in the enormous ship christened, the two were well used to each other, exploring just about every desire that popped into each head. The Centaurian, as a hermaphrodite allowed for a versatility that wouldn't otherwise be present in a same-sex relationship, and Kraglin never lost an opportunity to attempt and push his dangerous lover further and further.

Yondu, being a stubborn and determined man, pushed back just as hard, often forcing the Xandarian to streak back into his own cabin with only a sock for cover, and that was if he was being generous. Most of the crew adjusted, and simply prayed to never be promoted to First Mate if that was the fate that awaited at the top of career ladder.

Never the less, Kraglin gave back just as good, and the Captain often ended up with a limp in his usual swagger, making the man even meaner and more prone to whistling his arrow at someone.

This time, it's not quite a limp, rather more of a cautious walk. Yondu was making his way over the ship just a little slower than usual, placing his legs with more cautious as he prowled through the uneven floors and levels of the Eclector hallways, ducking and swerving when needed, avoiding collision with other crew members. Most jumped out of his way as it, spooked by a stormy expression and darkened skin, but some, with their noses in the pads, had to be given extra incentive in form of a kick, a trip, and a stomp over their backs just to be sure.

By the time the clunky leather boots of his stepped forth onto the main deck, Yondu's face looked downright nightly, a stormy blue color saturating his skin front the top of his head to the pointed tips of his pierced ears.

He gingerly sat down, placing more weight onto the armrests then usual and then heaved a cough, eyes bulging just a tad as he did so. They slid over to the scrawny back of his First Mate, and the Centaurian glowered, baring his teeth momentarily.

Unnoticed by anyone, thank the stars, the thick plug that was shoved into the Centaurian's cunt, trapping a vibrating egg even deeper in, pushed in just the right way to make the small buzzer press against his pubic bone, humming in the most wonderful way. The already damp patch on the man's underwear grew larger, for now still covered by the leather trousers.

A tan thin hand clicked the remote in a jumpsuit pocket, and suddenly Yondu minutely jerked in his seat, shifting side to side as if getting comfortable. The damn thing was large, and he had trouble even walking with it, now, with the constant pressure put to the widely pulled fat lips of his pussy and his cock straining against the zipper at the stimulation, it was Yondu could do to not get up and choke the remote out of his Second.

But the bastard had dared him to go a few hours with the plug and the egg, taunting him with the inability to present a calm front. Unfortunately it was looking more and more likely that he was right, if the Captain's coloring and shifting was anything to go by.

Already several of the day shift crew had turned around to subtly throw glances at the commander, muttering to each other that he might have caught the worm or got food poisoning again.

Yondu glowered but forced himself to calm down, settling into the chair. That first buzz was the beginning of his trouble as for the entirety of the shift, long 4 hours of them, Kraglin would flick the switch up and down at random intervals, making the Centaurian curse inside his head, ruing the day he decided it was a good idea to let the skinny fuck plow him in that supply closet. And never mind what he could do with those teeth and tongue.

By the time the shift finished and the crew dispersed, allowing Yondu to make his escape into the Captain's cabin, he was hard, had cum twice from his cock and about 5 times from his overused cunt, and suspected that his trousers were an absolute mess inside.

Kraglin has wisely left the remote on the his chair before he sneaked away five minutes early, and now the Centaurian took great pleasure in easing the thick plastic out, pulling the egg by the cord and flinging it into the wall.

Just as thought, the inside of the leather pants was crusted with a white mess, and the seat of them was soaked all the way through.

A very nasty smirk made its way onto the Ravager's mouth, flashing crooked teeth and a vicious expression.

Kraglin would be paying for this dare for a very long time. With something very long and hard.