IN WHICH BUSINESS AND PLEASURE ARE DEALT WITH ACCORDINGLY


"You've...never...been married, have you?" Tintin inquired offhandedly one morning. "Don't believe I've...ever...asked-!"

"Nope," the Captain responded. "...never."

"That's...a shame," Tintin lamented between gasps, readjusting his supporting hand to a less precarious area of the Captain's chest as he grasped himself with the other. "If...ohh, if you could marry-"

"In a heartbeat, laddie," Haddock growled as he brushed his thumbs across the boy's milky thighs possessively.

"No, no...what I was...going to say was-" Tintin ceased his stroking and reclined, placing both of his palms on the older man's knees as he was madly jostled up and down with greater vigor. "-if you could...go back in time and...marry, you know, with- haah!...get married to...with a woman, would you?"

He watched the sailor gave the question some serious thought through the wave of satisfied emotions that were crossing his features. His expression briefly relaxed into one of disinterest, to the boy's delight.

"No."

"Not even...oh, gracious-!" Tintin collected himself back into his fist and a drop of sweat worked its way down his brow, which was creased in helpless exertion. "Not even...for the romance of it all? The...classic drama...angle? Like in the pictures?"

"I don't see the point!" Haddock breathed.

"You don't...ohh~! You...you don't have to...f-flatter me, Captain."

"I'm not trying to," the Captain's rhythm had slowed slightly and he picked it back up again, blowing a lock of hair away from his forehead in irritation. "I absolutely cannot (hggh! good god lad) think of a single dame I'd want to marry!"

"Simone Signoret?"

"Oh, please," Haddock rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Denise Darcel."

"Well...perhaps, but only because she reminds me of you!"

"That's your only criterion for...for wanting to marry someone? I don't believe it."

"Well believe it, darling," Haddock said gruffly, suddenly pulling Tintin down into a heated kiss as he spent himself into the squirming, moaning reporter.