A failed humanitarian effort?
Now employed and on his way to regaining both ship and freedom, Jack heads towards the Nexus from the hotel he's been staying in; intent on finding some manner of fun, but finding it in wholly other ways than planned.
Captain Norrington was in the Nexus as well and had a run in with an unpleasant woman and the cursed fumes of her wine.
Jack: Jack was on his way across said Nexus and, had it not been for this very odd sight, may have been well on his way to partaking of some very interesting wine. The whole of the multiverse is really much better off that he stops to snicker at his Captain.
"Jamie? Quite alright, mate? Did I miss something I would've liked?"
Norrington: "Jack, it's good to see you, Jack. Don't go, undead, pirates, well, whore, undead whore. Vicious slap. She's French." This is Important Information and it's taking a fair bit of effort not to slur it.
...hee, shinies in Jack's hair. Poke?
Jack: "Undead whore? ... My god, you didn't ... sleep with it, did you?" He looks Norrington over as if whatever illness a dead whore might carry could simply leap across onto him. Then he's being poked at and that's very distracting. He pulls his hair away from James' hand possessively.
"Stop that. Now what is it your on about? ..And what've you been drinking? ...Without me, you greedy swine."
Norrington: "I would have you know that I am not drunk." LIAR. "Nor did I sleep with such a, such a, how do you get the khol to stay so nicely? It never rubs off on anything, but I suppose it would be hard to tell." Well, maybe not drunk, but he's certainly on something interesting.
"...I think my faculties of decid....I think I am impaired and the crew should not see me like this." Hugs? Snuggles?
Jack: "Course you aren't.." Head shake. "..It stays by willpower and…I hardly see the relevance." Jack is baffled by Norrington..it all feels a bit backwards as he tries to keep up with the inebriated sailor. It does tickle him, though, and he keeps returning to his grinning.
"No. They most decidedly should not. You might be onto something." The pirate was set to poke Norrington about the chest as he made this point, but then the man is far to close and a bit clingy. "...Well, hello... Affectionate bugger, aren't you?" Oh yes, he's a little flustered. But grinning because he quite wishes the other men could see this.... Or maybe not.
Norrington: "It is, in fact, of supreme relevance, Jack. It's relevant because...because I've always wondered and you wouldn't deny my wonderings? Would you? Wandering? Should we wander? I'm a little unsteady. Land legs, shore. Ngh. Never liked the land. Too steady." Yes, he's affectionate and probably has wandering hands. Norrrington has always wanted to know what Jack keeps in his pockets.
...where 'always' means for the past five minutes.
Jack: "Wonderings are all well and good. Wanderings the same. Shall we?" Not much of a question when he just begins leading the way like that. Back to the Pearl? Yes. That would be a safe place to hide a shit-faced Captain from his crew. Though, Jack wonders why he's being so very well behaved. Perhaps it has something to do with balance?
Sparrow wiggles a bit under the movement of unexpectedly grabby hands. His pockets, for the ever curious, contain things only recently his (a few minor things belonging to other crew of Paragon, some little shiny bits collected from around the nexus, a small leather bag on a strap, some shells, a bit of red string, three dice, and a feather. But that's just at present. "Looking for anything in particular, mate?"
Norrington: "'m always looking for something, but I'm not sure what particular that is. You see?" James is very leadable, nigh unto docile, even. "Jack, can I call you Jack? I don't think I'm really drunk, I mean, I didn't drink anything. Is this what being stoned is like? How do you tell? You know, don't you? You're very smart sometimes, even when you're mad, but that's all right, I was mad too." Dork-smile!
Jack: "Seems we've that in common, then... Though I'm hardly ever searching for the elusive in my own pockets." Jack lets James lean, search and snuggle all he likes as they make their way awkwardly across the beach and, eventually to his ship. "Call me Jack all you like, Jamie." He's even waving the 'captain' for now.
He considers James' theories and doesn't even balk at being called mad. He's heard it enough and when James says it, it lacks malice. "Usually, you know what you're funny from on account of it being the thing you've done. ... You do seem a bit, though. ... Madness is not exclusive of brilliance." Now..the gangplank will be a bit more of a challenge than just the getting here. Jack looks up it, then back at Norrington. "Steep angles ahead, mate. Steel y'rself."
Norrington: "Steep angles, better that than sharp angels. I've seen those too." He'll be steadier once he's on the ship -- until then, walking the gangplank will take a bit of effort, but it's manageable. "Y'called me Jamie, no one's called me that. No one never. S'always 'James', or 'Boy', or 'Norrington'. Never Jamie, dunno if I like it."
James has come to terms with having been (and occasionally being) mad. It wasn't a good time, but it was a necessary evil. A little madness instead of a great, big raving one.
Jack: "I've seen no angels at all. Seems a bit unfair, really." What with having died. He was cheated of both angels and devils or even a proper hell. "Jamie seems a fine enough name. Suits you, I think." Also, it's shorter and Jack is very fond of diminutive forms of names. Easy to remember, and they often irk the person being called by them.
Once on the ship, Jack leads his enemy-turned-friend-and-employer to his quarters, where he sets Norrington down on his bed. First visitor there in a while, now that he thinks of it... How sad. "Whatever it is you've got into, you should be able to sleep it off, eh? ... This madness be only temporary." He chuckles to himself and begins looking about for the drink he's so clearly earned.
Norrington: "Mm'thanks." He toes off his boots and flops back on the bed - it seems someone is a cover hog .
Wait. Wait a minute. James sits bolt upright and stares at Jack. "You're the real you, right? Not the other-Jack, the one from the sea, are you?" Is he scared?
Jack: Jack is tossing empty bottles aside in the search for one that still holds some precious fermented sugar cane. He lifts one with a grin, but his expression falls at the question. He turns towards Norrington looking very deeply confused and holding the bottle a bit limply.
Once he's shaken free of the strangeness of the question, he moves to flop down and sit at the edge of his berth and open his rum. "The only me I'm really familiar with, mate. Saw another once... " No, that wasn't the same as being him. Couldn't be. "'M the only real one. What Jack from the sea are you on about?"
Norrington: "The Jack that was there. All those days. Too long at sea, remember? Too much sun, not enough sea turtles." He frowns and touches Jack's hair again. This one seems real enough. "If you don't know, you're not him. He came with me, you know. Into the Nexus. He doesn't follow me, not really. I know that."
"He spent a long time talking to me. We had a lot in common, but in reverse order. Sometimes. Rightways others. I got mine much younger." He twists and pulls down his shirt - there, on the back of his shoulder, so old and faint that unless you knew what it was, it could be mistaken for any old scar. A large 'N' in a circle.
Jack: As he narrows his eyes and listens, the pirate has to wonder if he's this difficult for people to follow. He pieces together what he can of the rambling mess. "Had a Captain Sparrow all your own while adrift, eh?" It makes him smile, and he hopes he was better company than some of the hallucinations he's known. "D'you keep in touch?"
Jack runs his fingers over the old scar and notes just how old a thing it must surely be. It does take some looking to see the real shape of it. "...Interesting... And do you and I have so much in common, I wonder?" This calls for a long pull from the bottle. Surely if he catches up with James this will all make more sense.
Norrington: "I do, sometimes. Late, late at night or if it's too bright outside. Usually in the sun, he's there." Wriggle. "M'father was...was what he was. S'not right to brand a child. I told the other-you that, but you don't remember me telling you. Only one I ever told. I was nine, eight? Either."
For those not in the know, the 'N' stands for Newgate Prison. "I think we do. Sometimes, I think so. I was a pirate, once. I was five, maybe six? I ran away to the sea, up a tree, far, far into the Orient."
Jack: "Now I s'pose I'm twice the only one you've told, now. Heh." It's amusing, but he's distracted by the thought of some buggery prison guard burning such a little boy. It's terrible. His face wrinkles as he remembers the smell. No child should suffer that. "You couldn't 'ave deserved that."
Ha. No. Getting too close. Jack leans back on his elbows, not getting too close to Norrington in any sense if he can help it. "Up a tree is quite the wrong direction...but I s'pose it can be forgiven at that age. ... Did you want to be a pirate, Jamie?"
Norrington: "My father went to prison and I'd found a way to break him out. I came to get him and he turned me in. Wouldn't leave. Daft man."
Bah. Silly Jack moving away. Don't you see, it's terribly cold in here and they need to conserve body heat. "I didn't want to be, I was. I declared myself captain. Never stole because I needed it, but because I could. Little things, pointless things. Hairpins and pen nibs. I kept them for years, prolly still a few buried somewhere, the ones I had, I threw away. When I grew up. When I was nine."
Jack: "Bugger. Brave lad to have tried, though." On some levels, Jack can understand why Norrington's father would refuse being broken free, but such a horrible thing for a child.
If James closes that space, Jack won't try to flee again. Not too soon. He wouldn't want to appear cowardly. He just knows Norrington won't look back too fondly on all this. Ah well. He tried. "Ha! Thieving little devil. ... I was a very well behaved child." Shh. He believes this. "Tell no one."
Norrington: "I promise, Jack. But you can't tell anyone what I've told you. The other-you promised that to me, so you have to as well. Okay?" Good. It's smart of Jack not to run away, he's much too warm and comfortable to leave poor, poor James alone.
"I think I'm talking to much. If I do, will you tell me to be quiet? I don't talk often, or rather, I say much but mean little. All wind, no words."
Jack: "You've my word on it. I'll not tell a soul." And, oddly, he means that. He surprises even himself to find he has no intent of telling anyone what he's learned or any of this evening, thus far. Why is he the responsible one, now? When James is pressed close and warm, being the responsible one gets even more upsetting.
"Not at all, mate. Keep on. ... You're right, though. Most times you can talk for hours and say nothing at all. This is much more better." Even if it's a bit confusing. Jack drinks a bit more of his rum, but he's going a little slower at it than planned. It might be good to remember tonight.
Norrington: "I think I'm about to say something that will haunt me for the rest of my life." Pause. Pause. Yep. Going to do it. "Do you know why I never needed that compass? 'Cause you're a compass. Showing people what they really want. I know these things, Jack. I've learned a lot of things, even when I don't speak, I know them."
Jack: "Oh?" Very intent audience for this. Life shattering confessions are always fun...if horrifying. Though, this one isn't at all what Jack expected. He's left with his brows furrowed in confusion, but a slight grin curling his mouth.
"And you know this, do you? What is it you want most, then, Jamie? 'Ave I shown that to you?" He settles into a smug grin and lets the tips of his fingers play lightly across James' shoulders. Jack's hands have minds all their own, he can't be blamed when Norrington's the one who moved so close.
Norrington: "I do know. I want what I can have and I want...m's'nice, and I want to be free. Not running from, but running to. S'all I want." Sleepy, stoned, happy James. Will he remember in the morning?
"What do you want? S'your compass showing you? Tell me, Jack. I promise I'll listen to every word, remember it all."
Jack: Damn Norrington and his being so bloody hard to follow right now. For once, Jack is really interested in what the man has to say and all that usual directness and clarity is out the window. Ah well. He pets the confused Captain rambling against his side.
"Me? Ha. I want everything, mate. Whole world with a great bloody bow on it." He chuckles, but then Jack does open the compass. Why not? There are too many things he's after now for a direction to be given and he knows it. The arrow swivels and spins, and then stops to direct Jack's eyes to the drunken heap next to him. Well bugger... He snaps it shut and stares at the wrecked beams of the portside wall in deep contemplation. "...Of course, there are always those things of more immediate importance..." Oh come now...James isn't that fascinating. Is he?
Norrington: "Why'd you want the world? So big, where'd you keep it? Too much work, I think. I want to see it, to hold it, but not keep it." He smiles and looks painfully young - none of that coldness, all the age lines smoothed out - he must have been hurried through the naval academy.
"What's of more immediate importance? D'y'have to piss?" Poke. Poke in the side. Fear the poking. Yes, that's right. Fear! Or, well, ignore it because James has given up and broken into a fit of laughter.
Jack: "Well that's precisely it. I'd see and hold each bit of it a little at a time, savvy? But I'll not be satisfied til I know I've touched it all." A man needs goals. Jack sees no reason to limit himself. What, in specific, he wants has a tendency to be strange and interesting items of no real value. He only wanted Cortez' treasure for the nature of the thing and not the value. Though...what a fine bonus.
Between the poking and the fact it's set him to laughing, Jack may indeed need to have a piss quite soon. But not before he returns that vicious poking. "Oi, now! None of that!" Poke. "You've not a leg to stand on in this battle, mate. I'm damn near sober. Have the upper hand and all." The upper hand that is busy finding soft bits of Norrington to jab at. Respectable sober behaviour.
Norrington: Laughing, wriggling and (half-way) trying to fight off Jack don't really seem to be the most effective means for dealing with a troublesome pirate, but it doesn't seem that James has any better idea.
"Don't believe it. You? Sober? Can't happen. Shouldn't happen. And speaking of, I could do with a drink." He means water. You know he means water.
Jack: "Shouldn't, should it? S'pose I should do m'best to right it, then." Jack raises his bottle again and takes a long pull. When James says he needs a drink, the pirate pulls the bottle to his chest protectively. "No, mate, I think that may be the last thing you need. 'Sides, you ought to get your own. ... Y'certainly didn't share what you had earlier, did you? Bastard." A crime worthy of further poking. Is James ticklish?
Norrington: "I don't want your rum, I know how protective you are. Of course, if our positions were reversed..." Can he flip them? "...I know you'd be mad to have whatever I'd got. Even if I didn't want it."
He may, in fact, be ticklish. "I didn't drink anything, or eat anything in there. I know better. Not even to take the candies." Which he has a couple in his pocket - Clair's damned octopus keeps sneaking them in there. Terrifying beast.
Jack: "Good man. Only right to recognize what's important to a ma... oof." Seems he can flip them. Jack wasn't exactly expecting it. He frowns as some of the liquor spills out on his blankets, but then his eyes go back to James above him. "...I'd want it twice as much if you coveted it or denied me." Odd bit of honesty, but why not?
If James is found to be ticklish, then tickling will likely ensue...at least until candy or anything else worth while falls from his pockets. "Fine fine.. What would you have, then? Water? Wine? If you're to be a demanding guest."
Norrington: "I know that about you, Jack. Despite appearances, I'm not entirely stupid." Jack spilled his rum! This is clearly an event of momentous portent and should be treated with the utmost solemnity. Therefore, he will not laugh while being tickled, maybe wriggle and squirm about, but not laugh. "Water, if it's safe to drink."
Alas, it does seem as if Norrington intends to move. Jack has a rather too-tall former commodore stuck to him.
Jack: "Ah, but you seem to be mostly absent at present. Thought you might miss the fact." The strong fight not to laugh is commendable. Jack is impressed, and impressed enough to keep at it a bit. When James doesn't break, he gives in, allowing a fair win to the man. "The water is perfectly safe."
While he hadn't expected company in fetching it, he doesn't push Norrington off. Jack simply chuckles about it. The man is so much taller and threatens to topple the pirate as they walk.
Jack stops next to a small barrel in the corner. He pries the top from it and takes a heavy mug from a hook on the wall, dipping it in to fill it with water. One benefit of the Nexus is being able to keep fresh water on the ship. Maybe one day he'll even get the bottled kind!
"Here. Free a hand off me and take it, won't you?" He can't even make that sound properly annoyed.
Norrington: "The water is safe. S'only thing around here that is. You're not quite, are you? Neither'm'I. S'okay though, I kinda like it like that." He does take the mug and drink - good Norrington!
"Thanks, s'good. Clean. Sweet." He's no longer draped around and on Jack, but leaning against the wall and taking a long drink. "You want any?" Water, Jack. Do you want any water?
Jack: "Not quite? Whot? Safe? No... No I don't imagine I am. Thought you were for a time. Know better now. .... An' I do prefer it this way."
Jack watches James take to leaning and leave his side, and now he's a little cold without that body close against him. Even leaning and relaxed, James seems to stretch on forever. All limbs and awkwardness. It's not at all Jack's usual taste, so he should really stop looking.
"...Yes." Good, clean and sweet. Wait...what? Jack looks briefly surprised and maybe even embarrassed before looking to to meet Norrington's eyes again. "Sorry.. what? Water? No...No 'm fine." Bugger. Poor cover, Jack.
Norrington: He stretches and lets his joints crackle a little - it's an odd, personal and relaxed gesture for Norrington. "You don't look fine. You're flushed. You've a fever? You should lay down." Can he put a hand on Jack's forehead?
"I could get you something? What would you like?" Coffee, tea or me? He's almost painfully innocent and unguarded. Really, Jack, you should just tuck him in and let him sleep it off. That's what a good man would do.
Jack: There is some muttered complaints and pulling away, but feeling Jack's forehead shouldn't be too difficult. Not much call for it, though. He's perfectly healthy...physically. "I should lay down? Mate, you've got it wrong..." Well ... maybe if they both lay down..
Despite frequent accusations, Jack is not a good man. It's moments like this that make him sure of it. He's simply not an evil man. This doesn't exclude him from moments of wickedness. "What would I like?" His hands set on Norrington's hips, apparently, and guiding the man back to the warm blankets of his berth. "More import'nt would be what it is you would like. Hmm?" No it isn't, but that sounds nice. He sits the tall man down to even them up a bit. "What is it that you'd most fancy, Commodore?" The pirate sitting himself in your lap is only a friendly suggestion.
Norrington: "Oh, I'd fancy a pineapple. I've missed those terribly. Are you trying to get inside my pockets? I don't have much of anything in there, nothing really. Your hands are, they're very warm. You sure about that fever?" Big, green guileless eyes. ...and semi-wandering hands.
A fox sly grin and, hey, wait a minute! How did he get his hands up inside Jack's shirt? Has someone been playing games here?
Jack: The words are disappointing, but James' hands are every bit the reassurance. For a second, Jack isn't sure what to think, and then those hands are against his skin. Right. That was not an accident. He gives a sly smile of his own once that look of confusion fades; impressed with Norrington's clever ploy.
"Your pockets would make for a start." For now, though, he begins undoing buttons. "Truth of the thing is, 'm after a bit bigger game." Ah, there. A few undone and he can sneak his hands in. "Course...if you'd rather the pineapple..."
Norrington: "I'm almost tempted to know, ah, to know what you'd do with a pineapple, but I don't think I could stand the madness inducing horror." Jack has fewer buttons than James, but they need to be dealt with just the same. "What sort of game are you hunting? What game are you playing?"
Shirts? Can they go now? Now? What about.....now? James really would like to see how his hands look spread out against Jack's skin. Maybe nip at his collarbone.
Jack: "I'd eat it, actually. It's the why I'd eat it that might be troubling for you." While modern times have given rise to the internet and things like Cosmo; Jack learned most of his sexual trivia from whores and from trial and error. Seems a man can change his flavour with some foods. That fascinated Jack for a long time. He even tried to cultivate a personal flavour for a while.
Shirts may certainly come off now. Jack isn't waiting, that seems to be clear as he pushes Norrington's shirt over the man's shoulders and down his arms as he speaks. "'m hunting a tall, drunken animal of questionable motives.. And the game 'm having at is among my favourites." It's like deflowering a virgin, sort of, but different. Of course, now that has Jack wondering if James has ever been with a man before....
Norrington: James isn't about to tell anything about his, ah, sexual history. Goodness, even drunk ... oh, who are we kidding? All Jack has to do is ask and he'll get all the details he wants. "Questionable? Oh, that's a pity, I suppose I should make my motives clear."
He tugs off Jack's shirt and bucks up against him - wriggly, impatient little bastard, isn't he? "I intend to see you naked, to touch you just about everywhere I can, and most important of all, I would like to see if there's anything I can do that will finally make you shut up." Oh, like, let's see...oh, a kiss. One of those should work nicely.
Jack: Oh gods. This is a whole new side to James. It makes Jack all the more fascinated and increases that need to see where this can go. To know what James Norrington is like when you strip away everything of that facade he puts up for the world. The rough illustration of just how clear James' motives can be call forth a breathy "Oh..."
As Norrington describes his plans in detail, Jack's hands roam a bit more intently over his Captain's skin; shoulders, neck, back. His lips are parted and he's about to speak when the kiss does, indeed, shut him up. His fingers tighten, his eyes go wide, and for a second he goes stalk still. Slowly, though, his eyes close and his mouth responds in kind. Jack doesn't usually 'kiss'. Not the deep, lasting sort. It's such an intimate thing. But now he's had another stolen from him...at least he's not chained to a sinking ship this time round. "Mmm.... Jamie? D'you go about kissing a lot of blokes like that?"
Norrington: "Not working then, is it? You're still talking." Norrington whispers against his mouth before there's a low, amused chuckle and he pulls back to nip at his bottom lip. "And if you must know, no, I don't 'kiss a lot of blokes' like that or in any way."
Today's little known fact: Norrington has a predatory streak - which traditionally has been used to hunt and kill pirates, can be used for other things. Like getting Jack's clothes off and letting his hands roam and trace all his scars. In fact, Norrington has his fair share - most are fairly old, but he has a couple of newer ones: a large chuck taken out of one thigh, lash marks down his back.
Jack: The soft breath of James' words against his lips and that wicked bite earn sound out of Jack, but it isn't anything close to talking. Just a needy moan through parted lips. The pirate blinks to bring himself back to his proper senses, or what he has of them. "...Right...Suppose I'll count m'self lucky, then." It's almost stammered. Surely he can pull himself together better than that?
No. Not with such a driven man stripping him of his clothes and smoothing rough, sailor's hands over every inch of him. This isn't what he had planned at all. Jack was going to be in control. He was going to watch Norrington squirm and fight off his longing til he could stand it no longer and then blush to the core. So why is Jack the one laying flush and shocked on his bed? In a fight to regain the upper hand, his own fingers map out every detail of Norrington's body and finish in pulling away the remainder of the man's clothing. His touch lingers at the newer scars, wondering over the stories to them.
"Something get a taste of you?" He brushes over the thigh wound, before trailing fingers up along the inside line of that leg.
Norrington: "I was shot and they had to cut away enough so it wouldn't get infected. Burnt it to close." The lash marks are recent as well - the Navy didn't take well to his losing a pirate. Another shift, wriggle and he's able to toss the last of their clothing off to the side.
Predatory and possessive. Oh, Jack. What have you gotten yourself into? "You want a taste, too?" It seems that our 'good' ex-commodore really likes to use his mouth - working on a hickey at side of Jack's neck, nipping at his collarbone and maybe a couple more sharp, hungry kisses.
Jack: "...I hate being shot. It's bloody awful." The two bullet holes in his chest were lucky not to go straight into his heart. Most of Jack's scars speak of luck, actually. Aside from the brand. Though...it has led him places he never expected at the time.
Fortunately, Jack likes having that mouth on him, he's finding. He writhes a bit as James suckles and bites against his neck, but makes soft, low sounds in his throat that aren't discouraging in the least. Each little bite gets a gasp or a breathy laugh and the kisses... The kisses leave Jack quiet and breathless for a few seconds after each one. This is so odd for him.. He's so used to being the one in control. Rarely the aggressor, but always in control.
"I.. I might, actually." Jack gets his breath back from a kiss and trails his own kisses down James' neck; mouth working softly and warmly over James' skin to the shoulder.
Norrington: "I find myself rather liking the noises you make, they're quite, hmm, encouraging. In fact, they're making me rather hard...pressed to keep silent myself." He gasps for a moment and leans against Jack -- oh, what a lovely mouth. "I'm a bit of a talker, or so I've been told. You don't mind, do you? That I'll talk? Tell you all the things I want you to do? That I want to do to you?"
"I never really wanted this, but now that I've got you here, I intend to enjoy it. Every moment. Every taste. Every touch. I want to feel you arching up against me, rubbing against me. I want you." If Jack isn't allowed to talk, Norrington will happily make up the deficit.
Jack: Little busy with that soft spot between neck and collar for a moment, but then Jack lifts his mouth away to chuckle and actually respond. "Always the commander, eh?" And he thought he was. Funny. "Better t'have direction an warning than no sound at all. If I want you quiet, I'll quiet you." How he'll do that is left unspoken.
"I'd never once thought of... oh .. of this, but it's not as if the opportunity came about all too often, eh?" Arching against Norrington suddenly seems a fine idea, and Jack's body bends to raise him almost fully off of the bed. Strong arms wrap full around James and Sparrow's clever mouth is silenced against the former Commodore's skin once more; working his way down the man's chest.
Norrington: That might have been a squeak, but you'll never get James to admit it. "Al-always, but, ah..." He lets his voice drop and go soft, "...but let me know, hmm? If you need me quiet, tell me." This is a matter of some importance, perhaps even Serious Business. "I, ah, I'm not exactly...."
When he's unselfconscious, Norrington is more responsive and willing. "I, let....let-me-touch-you? Really touch you?"
Jack: "I'll tell you. You've ...mm...you've my word." Jack keeps at his mouthing and the firm travels of very nimble hands. "..not exactly whot, Jamie?" His smile has a way of seeming mocking or cruel even when it isn't. Jack Sparrow just looks like he knows something you don't. He'll try not to offend or discourage.
As it happens, there are parts of Jack that are desperate for being really touched, and so it's not a hard answer. He loosens his arms and lays back on the covers. "Touch all you like. I don't break so easy and you've done so well for y'rself so far... "
Norrington: "You damn well know, Jack." Another sharp nip to his shoulder and James looks over the body laid out before him. Oh, my. Well then, best get to it.
"I'll take your word then and whatever else I can get." A smug little smile and he's leaning close to Jack's side, using one hand to wander over his chest, his sides, stomach, lower over his thighs. Someone is taking his time.
Jack: Jack takes in a sharp breath at the bite and narrows an eye at Norrington, leaning in close to whisper his accusation. "Cannibal."
Laying still beside James, the pirate lets that hand explore as he curls his own arms under his head. At ticklish and sensitive spots of stomach and thighs, Jack's muscles tremble and tense. His breath is sharp and expectant, but Norrington seems to be...skirting the issue. "It doesn' bite, mate, I swear it... "
Norrington: "Hardly." Nip. Lick. "...and I know it doesn't bite, I'm just taking my time. Impatient, aren't you?" Perhaps, James will, ah, take the matter to hand, as it were? He'll continue taking his sweet time, slowly working into a rhythm, quietly whispering all sorts of very interesting things.
Jack: "I..nnn..I can hardly be made to wait forever.." Ok, to hell with talking. Jack's head dips back against the bed, eyes closed and his mouth opening and shutting soundlessly like a fish tossed on sand. Here and there, a deep heavy moan escapes him as the muscles in his hips and stomach tighten in the fight to keep from thrusting against James' hand. He finally bites his lip, keeping his mouth shut and opening his eyes to watch Norrington and listen to those whispers.
"You're ..nn..you're out to drive me mad. 'm certain of it... --oh gods-- Don' stop, mind you.... please." And the good fight is lost as Jack's body bends and his hips strain up to make a plea for more friction.
Norrington: "And here I'd thought that it was you who'd been driving me mad. Funny ol' world, innit?" James shifts to a better angle and is a -most- obliging not-Commodore. "Good Jack, you look so good. So right, just relax, let me do this for you, s'good and right?"
Whenever he's not speaking, James is busy kissing and licking at Jack's neck. It seems that someone has a wee bit of an oral fixation. Yum.
Jack: Filthy toes curling and uncurling, Jack stretches every muscle in his body as James strokes him; moving like a cat in that first moment of petting. He moans and arches up subtly, feeling very relaxed indeed. "S'excellent, mate. Perfect... Nnn... Jus' keep at it."
Jack knew well that Norrington has a quick and clever tongue, but he had never previously imagined the extent of that mouth's talents. He dare not ask... Too soon yet. But, perhaps later? This is quite good right now.
Norrington: "Of course, Jack. Like I'd say no to you." C'mon, c'mon, just a little more? Is that all you want? You need? "I want to make you, want to make you...c'mon Jack, for me?"
Jack: At Norrington's command or no, there's very little that could stop Jack at this point. He'd like to do a great number of things...or have them done...and when he's told he won't be refused, he wants to ask for all of it, but then he's a bit dizzy and very very close.
"Nnn...Gods... yes! I...yer mouth...fuck... " This isn't right at all. "KISS ME."
One of those hard, nerve wracking kisses he was being hit with before and a few more seconds of the brilliant work James' hand is doing and Jack is sure he'll not only climax, but possibly explode. He puts an arm around Norrington's neck to pull him in close; hungry for those deliciously forceful lips.
Norrington: Yes. Yes. It's not just that he's kissing Jack, it's that he was asked to. There's something particularly appealing about that. Another hard, hungry kiss and he keeps moving his hand - almost? Almost?
C'mon, Jack. "I want you, I want you so much, I need you, please, Jack? Please? For me? Let go?"
Jack: The way James kisses is amazing and foreign. Jack has been kissed by a great many mouths. Of all of those, however, there were two real kinds: Gentle kisses, timid before him because they feared their love wouldn't be returned; and hard, cold kisses with no passion or emotion attached. The one that stood out from those was at once an admission of passions hidden, an apology, and a bitter consignment to death. ... Then there's how James kisses. It encompasses everything and Jack wants more.
Fingers tighten against Norrington's shoulder and Jack's thighs and stomach tense as orgasm hits him hard. He moans deep and loud in short, staggered breaths and arches up from the bed, as he spills over James' hand and onto his own stomach. Jack relaxes back down against the covers and smiles peacefully.
"Only because you asked so sweetly." He pants a little, trying to catch his breath. Jack's hand slides up and his fingers play idly at the edge of Norrington's hair and against his neck.
Norrington: James wipes his hand against the sheet and turns his head to nuzzle against Jack's hand. "Sweet, indeed." He almost hopes that there will be bruises on his shoulder, it would be nice to feel and remember this tomorrow.
James rarely, if ever, kisses anyone. It's too personal and he never lets down his guard enough to let someone get that close. Jack had better enjoy this while he can, as soon as Norrington is fully recovered, he'll be far too mortified to ever, -ever- do this again.
Jack: There may well be bruises there about fitted to the size of a pirate Captain's hand. Two sets as he needed a better grip after losing hold once. If Jack recalls the spots --and he does intend to try-- he'll make point of resting his hand there any time the opportunity is presented. Particularly in public.
The nuzzling is nice and it was all very relaxing. Jack doesn't want to fall asleep just yet, though, regardless of how good it feels and how warm and nice it would be curled up against Norrington. No. Once he's fully recovered from the aftershocks of a fabulous and unexpected bit of heavy petting. He wipes his belly clean with the sheets (clean being a relative term) and moves up onto his knees. Jack's hand smooths over James' neck, down the man's chest, and over his inner thigh. "Lie down, Jamie. ... Your turn." Oh, the things that grin could mean.
Norrington: If and when he does that, Norrington will either turn an interesting shade of red or disembowel Jack. Either/or. "Well, if you insist, who'm I to say no to the great Captain Jack Sparrow? The best pirate I've ever heard of."
A (mostly) lazy grin and he rolls onto his back, stretching out and getting comfortable. He's still a little thin in some places, the time alone at sea did a number on him. "C'mon then."
Jack: Sadly, Jack is very easily flattered. He smiles, wide and proud, knowing well that it must be true. He is a great pirate, isn't he? "S'why you've heard of me."
With the long expanse of the former commodore stretched out before him, Jack moves one leg over to straddle Norrington's thighs just below the hips. He runs both rough hands over James' chest and stomach a few times. He feels over the thin areas around ribs and hip bones and over each scar, then moves down to curl his fingers around more important parts. Jack's stroke is firm and, I dare say, practiced. "You, Jamie, are by far my favourite of all the men that'd ever set out t'hang me."
Norrington: He has a great many scars, most of them on his back and legs, but it's clear that he's never been one to hide while his men face danger. "If I make a single joke about being well hung, you can stop, so...ah, fuck, yes, I'll be qui-qui, God, don't stop." He's already hard and needy, arching up into Jack's hand.
Interestingly enough, despite his earlier chatter Norrington goes silent except for a few, breathy gasps and moans. He's so very responsive to everything and anything Jack does. >_> You'd think it's been ages since someone else had touched him.
Jack: "An' here I wos, planning to cut things short right up til you asked me not to. Aren't I terribly obedient?" He works his own hips against James a bit and leans down to kiss the man's chest; pressing his busy hand and the cock in its grip so warm and tight between them. Jack will leave small marks wherever he can, possessing a skillful mouth of his own and a tendency to suckle here and there.
If this isn't allowed after tonight, he shall be very very put out about it indeed. James is proving to be an excellent partner... if liquor is needed for this, Jack can provide.
Norrington: "V-very, yes, very obedient. Only had to do this, to, ah!, to touch you so you'd listen. Must remember for later. Very effective." Other than a few, stifled gasps and moans, he's going to shut up now. I wouldn't expect witty conversation from here on in.
Norrington doesn't seem to mind the possibility that he'll be covered in marks tomorrow. In fact, it's a rather, ah, 'encouraging' thought.
Jack: "Touch properly and ask the.. right things." Jack moves up again; balancing his weight on one hand, set to the side of Norrington's shoulder. His mouth works at the side of the man's neck, bringing blood to gather under the skin where he sucks and licks firmly.
As he pulls his mouth away to whisper hot breath against James' ear, Jack slows his hand and tightens his grip just slightly. "C'n hardly follow orders without them given, though, savvy? ... Whot is it you want, Commodore." His voice is a rich, heavy purr in James' ear. The pirate knows full well how difficult real thought must be. He can see it in the man's face. Makes this all the more fun.
Norrington: He almost whines when Jack slows, but soon enough he's able to (almost) put a sentence together. "Not-Commodore, fuck, Jack. 'm James, and -fuck-, Jack. I want, you should know, I want you. I need you, Jack."
A growl and he turns to arch up and kiss Jack. He really does like to do that and will pay for it with stubble burn on the next day. "Fuck me, touch me, for Christ's sake, Jack. What more do you, you...God that's good, Christ, what more do you want?" Blasphemer!
Jack: "I like the word, and you earned the title. To hell with their taking it from you." Well...with Jack aiding in James' loss of the title, actually. Somewhere, deep down (perhaps in the sub-cockles?), Jack feels a touch guilty over that. He'd never meant to lose James anything...aside from the honor of hanging Jack Sparrow. "If you'd rather, Jamie it is, then."
The kiss is well appreciated, as is the offer for a fuck. He's nearly ready to take James up on it...maybe when he's done here. Virile, though he may be, Jack isn't so young as he once was. It would be a poor first go. No, better to try other things. See if he can't get James to take the lord's name in vain a few more times. "All good suggestions, mate... An' you know whot it is I want, as well. Everything."
Moving one knee down to spread James' legs, Jack maneuvers to crouch between them. He lowers his head and finds this is so much easier with less hair, though he still misses it. He licks the tip, as if sampling that bitter salt taste, and chuckles before lowering further to wrap his lips around James and begin to match his hands' pace.
Norrington: If this were any other night and James wasn't so tipsy from his little run in with the Harlot, he'd be -shocked- and probably squeak before falling out of bed.
Fortunately for all involved, he's not about to do that. Instead, James will try to be absolutely silent and hold fast at the sheets. "I won't, fuck, Christ, won't give you everything. I -can't-, Jack. But, I, ah, damn, you've a persuasive mouth to you." Worried that he'd say more than he should, James did try to be silent. Alas, best laid plans don't result in a well laid Commodore.
Jack: Grinning around the task at hand, Jack makes soft sounds amounting to humming. A low vibrating warmth sounding his smug little personal victory in getting such intense reaction out of Norrington. Surely he can be promised the world and more with just a little effort. He sucks firmly, with just a bit of tongue coming into play.
How much can James take? It's a fun little game. Jack will make it all last as long as he can.
Norrington: Let's be honest, it's been a while since Norrington has had anyone other than himself and he's not going to be able to last for much longer. He's bitten down on his own lip to the point that it's almost bleeding. Please Jack? Please? He'll never actually say please, but it's implied.
A sudden, stifled shout and he's gone. Trying to arch and hold still all at once.
Jack: Desperation is adorable on James. At least, in Jack's opinion. He first saw it on the man (perhaps not this one, but the same man all the same) in Tortuga, though there was a touch too much anger in it to really appreciate the look. This is far better. He obliges and works his mouth in earnest.
Jack readies himself when James tenses; keeping his pace but prepared not to choke embarrassingly. He'll finish properly. Swallow down. Best not to disappoint.
Norrington: Oh dear, it seems that James has melted. He's gone all boneless, sleepy and nuzzly. C'mere, Jack. Kiss? One last, sleepy kiss? "Mm'thank you." Now's the time to ask him questions - he'll answer whatever you'd like.
Jack: Well...maybe one more kiss. Or two. Not too many. Well...perhaps another. "I like t'leave off with you owing me." Which is what Jack's done, in his opinion. That, and with any luck, impressed the whole evening on James Norrington's memory.
He stretches out languidly at James' side and wishes he felt like getting up to roll a cigarette, but he doesn't. "James?" Real names now. Nothing cute. "Had you ever..for a moment...wan'ed that before? Or s'it just a trick of the nexus?" Best to know now, really.
Norrington: "Mmm? I hadn't, no. Doesn't mean I didn't like it. Sort of, umm, I'd never had a mango until I came to Port Royal. I didn't know how much I wanted it until I'd had it." Ramble, ramble, ramble. "You?"
Jack: "Honestly?" He turns his eyes to James, brows raised. "No.. not at all. Thought of teasing you. Seeing whot you'd do." He'd even kissed James when they argued. Thought it would shut the man up, but was only kissed back instead and James went right on as if nothing happened.
"Suppose I'll not know for certain til you've sobered from.." He rolls his hand in the air. "..whotever's got into you."
Norrington: "I want to keep talking, but you'll only mock me when I'm sober." Sleeeeepy nuzzle. "You'll not leave Paragon will you? Not because of this? Even if I'm stupid and mad."
Jack: "Whot? No.. I mean...I may mock you. You're right there. I'll not leave your command over it, though. Promise." He chuckles and puts a tired arm around Norrington. Lord, this is strange. When Jack is spent, his bed company should really be on their way. "I've seen nothing to make you look stupid, Jamie, and I can hardly hold it against a man for being mad."
Norrington: "I'm rather good at being mad. Even if it's only my first time." Snuggling close and pulling up covers. It seems that someone intends to enjoy this for as long as he can. No one ever touches the captain. "A good promise."
Jack: "You are quite good at your madness. Truly. Took me a bit of time to get truly skilled with it." A lot of figuring out just what things he was doing oddly...then playing it off worse. Playing the town drunk. Even now...he's nowhere near to drunk, but he still hasn't let the act go for James. Most never get to see it. "...Does it frighten you, James? Being mad?"
Norrington: "Terrifying. I'm fine most days, some are bad. Some are very bad." He's listening to Jack's heartbeat and slowly falling asleep. "It's a lot of work to be sane, more than I knew it would be."
Jack: "I'd say it gets better, but I'll not make a liar of m'self tonight." He can't promise those things. It does get better, but not in the ways a man might hope. It's so damned odd to be talking about, but Jack's only just realizing he's never spoken about it before. "It's far too hard to be sane. I've decided against it entirely. Far less unpleasant this way." Mmm. Pulling the covers over himself as well, he'll lay beside James and talk until he's lost the companion in it. Then he'll do his best to sleep, rather than lie awake talking to himself.
Norrington: "I never expected it to." He's not too sure if he's quite willing to say that sanity is over-rated, but he's still pretty new at this madness game. "G'sleep, Jack. I'll be fine. I'll be here." Zzzzzzz.
Jack: Mmm. Perhaps with a warm body at his side, Jack will be spared any dreams of his death. He's been betrayed by one James Norrington, and so he can't trust completely. But still, Jack's not had anyone who understood so well in some great time. He'll curl up and find sleep as quickly as he's able. Maybe on waking, there won't be any unpleasant panicking or moaning of regrets? He can hope.
Captain Norrington was in the Nexus as well and had a run in with an unpleasant woman and the cursed fumes of her wine.
Jack: Jack was on his way across said Nexus and, had it not been for this very odd sight, may have been well on his way to partaking of some very interesting wine. The whole of the multiverse is really much better off that he stops to snicker at his Captain.
"Jamie? Quite alright, mate? Did I miss something I would've liked?"
Norrington: "Jack, it's good to see you, Jack. Don't go, undead, pirates, well, whore, undead whore. Vicious slap. She's French." This is Important Information and it's taking a fair bit of effort not to slur it.
...hee, shinies in Jack's hair. Poke?
Jack: "Undead whore? ... My god, you didn't ... sleep with it, did you?" He looks Norrington over as if whatever illness a dead whore might carry could simply leap across onto him. Then he's being poked at and that's very distracting. He pulls his hair away from James' hand possessively.
"Stop that. Now what is it your on about? ..And what've you been drinking? ...Without me, you greedy swine."
Norrington: "I would have you know that I am not drunk." LIAR. "Nor did I sleep with such a, such a, how do you get the khol to stay so nicely? It never rubs off on anything, but I suppose it would be hard to tell." Well, maybe not drunk, but he's certainly on something interesting.
"...I think my faculties of decid....I think I am impaired and the crew should not see me like this." Hugs? Snuggles?
Jack: "Course you aren't.." Head shake. "..It stays by willpower and…I hardly see the relevance." Jack is baffled by Norrington..it all feels a bit backwards as he tries to keep up with the inebriated sailor. It does tickle him, though, and he keeps returning to his grinning.
"No. They most decidedly should not. You might be onto something." The pirate was set to poke Norrington about the chest as he made this point, but then the man is far to close and a bit clingy. "...Well, hello... Affectionate bugger, aren't you?" Oh yes, he's a little flustered. But grinning because he quite wishes the other men could see this.... Or maybe not.
Norrington: "It is, in fact, of supreme relevance, Jack. It's relevant because...because I've always wondered and you wouldn't deny my wonderings? Would you? Wandering? Should we wander? I'm a little unsteady. Land legs, shore. Ngh. Never liked the land. Too steady." Yes, he's affectionate and probably has wandering hands. Norrrington has always wanted to know what Jack keeps in his pockets.
...where 'always' means for the past five minutes.
Jack: "Wonderings are all well and good. Wanderings the same. Shall we?" Not much of a question when he just begins leading the way like that. Back to the Pearl? Yes. That would be a safe place to hide a shit-faced Captain from his crew. Though, Jack wonders why he's being so very well behaved. Perhaps it has something to do with balance?
Sparrow wiggles a bit under the movement of unexpectedly grabby hands. His pockets, for the ever curious, contain things only recently his (a few minor things belonging to other crew of Paragon, some little shiny bits collected from around the nexus, a small leather bag on a strap, some shells, a bit of red string, three dice, and a feather. But that's just at present. "Looking for anything in particular, mate?"
Norrington: "'m always looking for something, but I'm not sure what particular that is. You see?" James is very leadable, nigh unto docile, even. "Jack, can I call you Jack? I don't think I'm really drunk, I mean, I didn't drink anything. Is this what being stoned is like? How do you tell? You know, don't you? You're very smart sometimes, even when you're mad, but that's all right, I was mad too." Dork-smile!
Jack: "Seems we've that in common, then... Though I'm hardly ever searching for the elusive in my own pockets." Jack lets James lean, search and snuggle all he likes as they make their way awkwardly across the beach and, eventually to his ship. "Call me Jack all you like, Jamie." He's even waving the 'captain' for now.
He considers James' theories and doesn't even balk at being called mad. He's heard it enough and when James says it, it lacks malice. "Usually, you know what you're funny from on account of it being the thing you've done. ... You do seem a bit, though. ... Madness is not exclusive of brilliance." Now..the gangplank will be a bit more of a challenge than just the getting here. Jack looks up it, then back at Norrington. "Steep angles ahead, mate. Steel y'rself."
Norrington: "Steep angles, better that than sharp angels. I've seen those too." He'll be steadier once he's on the ship -- until then, walking the gangplank will take a bit of effort, but it's manageable. "Y'called me Jamie, no one's called me that. No one never. S'always 'James', or 'Boy', or 'Norrington'. Never Jamie, dunno if I like it."
James has come to terms with having been (and occasionally being) mad. It wasn't a good time, but it was a necessary evil. A little madness instead of a great, big raving one.
Jack: "I've seen no angels at all. Seems a bit unfair, really." What with having died. He was cheated of both angels and devils or even a proper hell. "Jamie seems a fine enough name. Suits you, I think." Also, it's shorter and Jack is very fond of diminutive forms of names. Easy to remember, and they often irk the person being called by them.
Once on the ship, Jack leads his enemy-turned-friend-and-employer to his quarters, where he sets Norrington down on his bed. First visitor there in a while, now that he thinks of it... How sad. "Whatever it is you've got into, you should be able to sleep it off, eh? ... This madness be only temporary." He chuckles to himself and begins looking about for the drink he's so clearly earned.
Norrington: "Mm'thanks." He toes off his boots and flops back on the bed - it seems someone is a cover hog .
Wait. Wait a minute. James sits bolt upright and stares at Jack. "You're the real you, right? Not the other-Jack, the one from the sea, are you?" Is he scared?
Jack: Jack is tossing empty bottles aside in the search for one that still holds some precious fermented sugar cane. He lifts one with a grin, but his expression falls at the question. He turns towards Norrington looking very deeply confused and holding the bottle a bit limply.
Once he's shaken free of the strangeness of the question, he moves to flop down and sit at the edge of his berth and open his rum. "The only me I'm really familiar with, mate. Saw another once... " No, that wasn't the same as being him. Couldn't be. "'M the only real one. What Jack from the sea are you on about?"
Norrington: "The Jack that was there. All those days. Too long at sea, remember? Too much sun, not enough sea turtles." He frowns and touches Jack's hair again. This one seems real enough. "If you don't know, you're not him. He came with me, you know. Into the Nexus. He doesn't follow me, not really. I know that."
"He spent a long time talking to me. We had a lot in common, but in reverse order. Sometimes. Rightways others. I got mine much younger." He twists and pulls down his shirt - there, on the back of his shoulder, so old and faint that unless you knew what it was, it could be mistaken for any old scar. A large 'N' in a circle.
Jack: As he narrows his eyes and listens, the pirate has to wonder if he's this difficult for people to follow. He pieces together what he can of the rambling mess. "Had a Captain Sparrow all your own while adrift, eh?" It makes him smile, and he hopes he was better company than some of the hallucinations he's known. "D'you keep in touch?"
Jack runs his fingers over the old scar and notes just how old a thing it must surely be. It does take some looking to see the real shape of it. "...Interesting... And do you and I have so much in common, I wonder?" This calls for a long pull from the bottle. Surely if he catches up with James this will all make more sense.
Norrington: "I do, sometimes. Late, late at night or if it's too bright outside. Usually in the sun, he's there." Wriggle. "M'father was...was what he was. S'not right to brand a child. I told the other-you that, but you don't remember me telling you. Only one I ever told. I was nine, eight? Either."
For those not in the know, the 'N' stands for Newgate Prison. "I think we do. Sometimes, I think so. I was a pirate, once. I was five, maybe six? I ran away to the sea, up a tree, far, far into the Orient."
Jack: "Now I s'pose I'm twice the only one you've told, now. Heh." It's amusing, but he's distracted by the thought of some buggery prison guard burning such a little boy. It's terrible. His face wrinkles as he remembers the smell. No child should suffer that. "You couldn't 'ave deserved that."
Ha. No. Getting too close. Jack leans back on his elbows, not getting too close to Norrington in any sense if he can help it. "Up a tree is quite the wrong direction...but I s'pose it can be forgiven at that age. ... Did you want to be a pirate, Jamie?"
Norrington: "My father went to prison and I'd found a way to break him out. I came to get him and he turned me in. Wouldn't leave. Daft man."
Bah. Silly Jack moving away. Don't you see, it's terribly cold in here and they need to conserve body heat. "I didn't want to be, I was. I declared myself captain. Never stole because I needed it, but because I could. Little things, pointless things. Hairpins and pen nibs. I kept them for years, prolly still a few buried somewhere, the ones I had, I threw away. When I grew up. When I was nine."
Jack: "Bugger. Brave lad to have tried, though." On some levels, Jack can understand why Norrington's father would refuse being broken free, but such a horrible thing for a child.
If James closes that space, Jack won't try to flee again. Not too soon. He wouldn't want to appear cowardly. He just knows Norrington won't look back too fondly on all this. Ah well. He tried. "Ha! Thieving little devil. ... I was a very well behaved child." Shh. He believes this. "Tell no one."
Norrington: "I promise, Jack. But you can't tell anyone what I've told you. The other-you promised that to me, so you have to as well. Okay?" Good. It's smart of Jack not to run away, he's much too warm and comfortable to leave poor, poor James alone.
"I think I'm talking to much. If I do, will you tell me to be quiet? I don't talk often, or rather, I say much but mean little. All wind, no words."
Jack: "You've my word on it. I'll not tell a soul." And, oddly, he means that. He surprises even himself to find he has no intent of telling anyone what he's learned or any of this evening, thus far. Why is he the responsible one, now? When James is pressed close and warm, being the responsible one gets even more upsetting.
"Not at all, mate. Keep on. ... You're right, though. Most times you can talk for hours and say nothing at all. This is much more better." Even if it's a bit confusing. Jack drinks a bit more of his rum, but he's going a little slower at it than planned. It might be good to remember tonight.
Norrington: "I think I'm about to say something that will haunt me for the rest of my life." Pause. Pause. Yep. Going to do it. "Do you know why I never needed that compass? 'Cause you're a compass. Showing people what they really want. I know these things, Jack. I've learned a lot of things, even when I don't speak, I know them."
Jack: "Oh?" Very intent audience for this. Life shattering confessions are always fun...if horrifying. Though, this one isn't at all what Jack expected. He's left with his brows furrowed in confusion, but a slight grin curling his mouth.
"And you know this, do you? What is it you want most, then, Jamie? 'Ave I shown that to you?" He settles into a smug grin and lets the tips of his fingers play lightly across James' shoulders. Jack's hands have minds all their own, he can't be blamed when Norrington's the one who moved so close.
Norrington: "I do know. I want what I can have and I want...m's'nice, and I want to be free. Not running from, but running to. S'all I want." Sleepy, stoned, happy James. Will he remember in the morning?
"What do you want? S'your compass showing you? Tell me, Jack. I promise I'll listen to every word, remember it all."
Jack: Damn Norrington and his being so bloody hard to follow right now. For once, Jack is really interested in what the man has to say and all that usual directness and clarity is out the window. Ah well. He pets the confused Captain rambling against his side.
"Me? Ha. I want everything, mate. Whole world with a great bloody bow on it." He chuckles, but then Jack does open the compass. Why not? There are too many things he's after now for a direction to be given and he knows it. The arrow swivels and spins, and then stops to direct Jack's eyes to the drunken heap next to him. Well bugger... He snaps it shut and stares at the wrecked beams of the portside wall in deep contemplation. "...Of course, there are always those things of more immediate importance..." Oh come now...James isn't that fascinating. Is he?
Norrington: "Why'd you want the world? So big, where'd you keep it? Too much work, I think. I want to see it, to hold it, but not keep it." He smiles and looks painfully young - none of that coldness, all the age lines smoothed out - he must have been hurried through the naval academy.
"What's of more immediate importance? D'y'have to piss?" Poke. Poke in the side. Fear the poking. Yes, that's right. Fear! Or, well, ignore it because James has given up and broken into a fit of laughter.
Jack: "Well that's precisely it. I'd see and hold each bit of it a little at a time, savvy? But I'll not be satisfied til I know I've touched it all." A man needs goals. Jack sees no reason to limit himself. What, in specific, he wants has a tendency to be strange and interesting items of no real value. He only wanted Cortez' treasure for the nature of the thing and not the value. Though...what a fine bonus.
Between the poking and the fact it's set him to laughing, Jack may indeed need to have a piss quite soon. But not before he returns that vicious poking. "Oi, now! None of that!" Poke. "You've not a leg to stand on in this battle, mate. I'm damn near sober. Have the upper hand and all." The upper hand that is busy finding soft bits of Norrington to jab at. Respectable sober behaviour.
Norrington: Laughing, wriggling and (half-way) trying to fight off Jack don't really seem to be the most effective means for dealing with a troublesome pirate, but it doesn't seem that James has any better idea.
"Don't believe it. You? Sober? Can't happen. Shouldn't happen. And speaking of, I could do with a drink." He means water. You know he means water.
Jack: "Shouldn't, should it? S'pose I should do m'best to right it, then." Jack raises his bottle again and takes a long pull. When James says he needs a drink, the pirate pulls the bottle to his chest protectively. "No, mate, I think that may be the last thing you need. 'Sides, you ought to get your own. ... Y'certainly didn't share what you had earlier, did you? Bastard." A crime worthy of further poking. Is James ticklish?
Norrington: "I don't want your rum, I know how protective you are. Of course, if our positions were reversed..." Can he flip them? "...I know you'd be mad to have whatever I'd got. Even if I didn't want it."
He may, in fact, be ticklish. "I didn't drink anything, or eat anything in there. I know better. Not even to take the candies." Which he has a couple in his pocket - Clair's damned octopus keeps sneaking them in there. Terrifying beast.
Jack: "Good man. Only right to recognize what's important to a ma... oof." Seems he can flip them. Jack wasn't exactly expecting it. He frowns as some of the liquor spills out on his blankets, but then his eyes go back to James above him. "...I'd want it twice as much if you coveted it or denied me." Odd bit of honesty, but why not?
If James is found to be ticklish, then tickling will likely ensue...at least until candy or anything else worth while falls from his pockets. "Fine fine.. What would you have, then? Water? Wine? If you're to be a demanding guest."
Norrington: "I know that about you, Jack. Despite appearances, I'm not entirely stupid." Jack spilled his rum! This is clearly an event of momentous portent and should be treated with the utmost solemnity. Therefore, he will not laugh while being tickled, maybe wriggle and squirm about, but not laugh. "Water, if it's safe to drink."
Alas, it does seem as if Norrington intends to move. Jack has a rather too-tall former commodore stuck to him.
Jack: "Ah, but you seem to be mostly absent at present. Thought you might miss the fact." The strong fight not to laugh is commendable. Jack is impressed, and impressed enough to keep at it a bit. When James doesn't break, he gives in, allowing a fair win to the man. "The water is perfectly safe."
While he hadn't expected company in fetching it, he doesn't push Norrington off. Jack simply chuckles about it. The man is so much taller and threatens to topple the pirate as they walk.
Jack stops next to a small barrel in the corner. He pries the top from it and takes a heavy mug from a hook on the wall, dipping it in to fill it with water. One benefit of the Nexus is being able to keep fresh water on the ship. Maybe one day he'll even get the bottled kind!
"Here. Free a hand off me and take it, won't you?" He can't even make that sound properly annoyed.
Norrington: "The water is safe. S'only thing around here that is. You're not quite, are you? Neither'm'I. S'okay though, I kinda like it like that." He does take the mug and drink - good Norrington!
"Thanks, s'good. Clean. Sweet." He's no longer draped around and on Jack, but leaning against the wall and taking a long drink. "You want any?" Water, Jack. Do you want any water?
Jack: "Not quite? Whot? Safe? No... No I don't imagine I am. Thought you were for a time. Know better now. .... An' I do prefer it this way."
Jack watches James take to leaning and leave his side, and now he's a little cold without that body close against him. Even leaning and relaxed, James seems to stretch on forever. All limbs and awkwardness. It's not at all Jack's usual taste, so he should really stop looking.
"...Yes." Good, clean and sweet. Wait...what? Jack looks briefly surprised and maybe even embarrassed before looking to to meet Norrington's eyes again. "Sorry.. what? Water? No...No 'm fine." Bugger. Poor cover, Jack.
Norrington: He stretches and lets his joints crackle a little - it's an odd, personal and relaxed gesture for Norrington. "You don't look fine. You're flushed. You've a fever? You should lay down." Can he put a hand on Jack's forehead?
"I could get you something? What would you like?" Coffee, tea or me? He's almost painfully innocent and unguarded. Really, Jack, you should just tuck him in and let him sleep it off. That's what a good man would do.
Jack: There is some muttered complaints and pulling away, but feeling Jack's forehead shouldn't be too difficult. Not much call for it, though. He's perfectly healthy...physically. "I should lay down? Mate, you've got it wrong..." Well ... maybe if they both lay down..
Despite frequent accusations, Jack is not a good man. It's moments like this that make him sure of it. He's simply not an evil man. This doesn't exclude him from moments of wickedness. "What would I like?" His hands set on Norrington's hips, apparently, and guiding the man back to the warm blankets of his berth. "More import'nt would be what it is you would like. Hmm?" No it isn't, but that sounds nice. He sits the tall man down to even them up a bit. "What is it that you'd most fancy, Commodore?" The pirate sitting himself in your lap is only a friendly suggestion.
Norrington: "Oh, I'd fancy a pineapple. I've missed those terribly. Are you trying to get inside my pockets? I don't have much of anything in there, nothing really. Your hands are, they're very warm. You sure about that fever?" Big, green guileless eyes. ...and semi-wandering hands.
A fox sly grin and, hey, wait a minute! How did he get his hands up inside Jack's shirt? Has someone been playing games here?
Jack: The words are disappointing, but James' hands are every bit the reassurance. For a second, Jack isn't sure what to think, and then those hands are against his skin. Right. That was not an accident. He gives a sly smile of his own once that look of confusion fades; impressed with Norrington's clever ploy.
"Your pockets would make for a start." For now, though, he begins undoing buttons. "Truth of the thing is, 'm after a bit bigger game." Ah, there. A few undone and he can sneak his hands in. "Course...if you'd rather the pineapple..."
Norrington: "I'm almost tempted to know, ah, to know what you'd do with a pineapple, but I don't think I could stand the madness inducing horror." Jack has fewer buttons than James, but they need to be dealt with just the same. "What sort of game are you hunting? What game are you playing?"
Shirts? Can they go now? Now? What about.....now? James really would like to see how his hands look spread out against Jack's skin. Maybe nip at his collarbone.
Jack: "I'd eat it, actually. It's the why I'd eat it that might be troubling for you." While modern times have given rise to the internet and things like Cosmo; Jack learned most of his sexual trivia from whores and from trial and error. Seems a man can change his flavour with some foods. That fascinated Jack for a long time. He even tried to cultivate a personal flavour for a while.
Shirts may certainly come off now. Jack isn't waiting, that seems to be clear as he pushes Norrington's shirt over the man's shoulders and down his arms as he speaks. "'m hunting a tall, drunken animal of questionable motives.. And the game 'm having at is among my favourites." It's like deflowering a virgin, sort of, but different. Of course, now that has Jack wondering if James has ever been with a man before....
Norrington: James isn't about to tell anything about his, ah, sexual history. Goodness, even drunk ... oh, who are we kidding? All Jack has to do is ask and he'll get all the details he wants. "Questionable? Oh, that's a pity, I suppose I should make my motives clear."
He tugs off Jack's shirt and bucks up against him - wriggly, impatient little bastard, isn't he? "I intend to see you naked, to touch you just about everywhere I can, and most important of all, I would like to see if there's anything I can do that will finally make you shut up." Oh, like, let's see...oh, a kiss. One of those should work nicely.
Jack: Oh gods. This is a whole new side to James. It makes Jack all the more fascinated and increases that need to see where this can go. To know what James Norrington is like when you strip away everything of that facade he puts up for the world. The rough illustration of just how clear James' motives can be call forth a breathy "Oh..."
As Norrington describes his plans in detail, Jack's hands roam a bit more intently over his Captain's skin; shoulders, neck, back. His lips are parted and he's about to speak when the kiss does, indeed, shut him up. His fingers tighten, his eyes go wide, and for a second he goes stalk still. Slowly, though, his eyes close and his mouth responds in kind. Jack doesn't usually 'kiss'. Not the deep, lasting sort. It's such an intimate thing. But now he's had another stolen from him...at least he's not chained to a sinking ship this time round. "Mmm.... Jamie? D'you go about kissing a lot of blokes like that?"
Norrington: "Not working then, is it? You're still talking." Norrington whispers against his mouth before there's a low, amused chuckle and he pulls back to nip at his bottom lip. "And if you must know, no, I don't 'kiss a lot of blokes' like that or in any way."
Today's little known fact: Norrington has a predatory streak - which traditionally has been used to hunt and kill pirates, can be used for other things. Like getting Jack's clothes off and letting his hands roam and trace all his scars. In fact, Norrington has his fair share - most are fairly old, but he has a couple of newer ones: a large chuck taken out of one thigh, lash marks down his back.
Jack: The soft breath of James' words against his lips and that wicked bite earn sound out of Jack, but it isn't anything close to talking. Just a needy moan through parted lips. The pirate blinks to bring himself back to his proper senses, or what he has of them. "...Right...Suppose I'll count m'self lucky, then." It's almost stammered. Surely he can pull himself together better than that?
No. Not with such a driven man stripping him of his clothes and smoothing rough, sailor's hands over every inch of him. This isn't what he had planned at all. Jack was going to be in control. He was going to watch Norrington squirm and fight off his longing til he could stand it no longer and then blush to the core. So why is Jack the one laying flush and shocked on his bed? In a fight to regain the upper hand, his own fingers map out every detail of Norrington's body and finish in pulling away the remainder of the man's clothing. His touch lingers at the newer scars, wondering over the stories to them.
"Something get a taste of you?" He brushes over the thigh wound, before trailing fingers up along the inside line of that leg.
Norrington: "I was shot and they had to cut away enough so it wouldn't get infected. Burnt it to close." The lash marks are recent as well - the Navy didn't take well to his losing a pirate. Another shift, wriggle and he's able to toss the last of their clothing off to the side.
Predatory and possessive. Oh, Jack. What have you gotten yourself into? "You want a taste, too?" It seems that our 'good' ex-commodore really likes to use his mouth - working on a hickey at side of Jack's neck, nipping at his collarbone and maybe a couple more sharp, hungry kisses.
Jack: "...I hate being shot. It's bloody awful." The two bullet holes in his chest were lucky not to go straight into his heart. Most of Jack's scars speak of luck, actually. Aside from the brand. Though...it has led him places he never expected at the time.
Fortunately, Jack likes having that mouth on him, he's finding. He writhes a bit as James suckles and bites against his neck, but makes soft, low sounds in his throat that aren't discouraging in the least. Each little bite gets a gasp or a breathy laugh and the kisses... The kisses leave Jack quiet and breathless for a few seconds after each one. This is so odd for him.. He's so used to being the one in control. Rarely the aggressor, but always in control.
"I.. I might, actually." Jack gets his breath back from a kiss and trails his own kisses down James' neck; mouth working softly and warmly over James' skin to the shoulder.
Norrington: "I find myself rather liking the noises you make, they're quite, hmm, encouraging. In fact, they're making me rather hard...pressed to keep silent myself." He gasps for a moment and leans against Jack -- oh, what a lovely mouth. "I'm a bit of a talker, or so I've been told. You don't mind, do you? That I'll talk? Tell you all the things I want you to do? That I want to do to you?"
"I never really wanted this, but now that I've got you here, I intend to enjoy it. Every moment. Every taste. Every touch. I want to feel you arching up against me, rubbing against me. I want you." If Jack isn't allowed to talk, Norrington will happily make up the deficit.
Jack: Little busy with that soft spot between neck and collar for a moment, but then Jack lifts his mouth away to chuckle and actually respond. "Always the commander, eh?" And he thought he was. Funny. "Better t'have direction an warning than no sound at all. If I want you quiet, I'll quiet you." How he'll do that is left unspoken.
"I'd never once thought of... oh .. of this, but it's not as if the opportunity came about all too often, eh?" Arching against Norrington suddenly seems a fine idea, and Jack's body bends to raise him almost fully off of the bed. Strong arms wrap full around James and Sparrow's clever mouth is silenced against the former Commodore's skin once more; working his way down the man's chest.
Norrington: That might have been a squeak, but you'll never get James to admit it. "Al-always, but, ah..." He lets his voice drop and go soft, "...but let me know, hmm? If you need me quiet, tell me." This is a matter of some importance, perhaps even Serious Business. "I, ah, I'm not exactly...."
When he's unselfconscious, Norrington is more responsive and willing. "I, let....let-me-touch-you? Really touch you?"
Jack: "I'll tell you. You've ...mm...you've my word." Jack keeps at his mouthing and the firm travels of very nimble hands. "..not exactly whot, Jamie?" His smile has a way of seeming mocking or cruel even when it isn't. Jack Sparrow just looks like he knows something you don't. He'll try not to offend or discourage.
As it happens, there are parts of Jack that are desperate for being really touched, and so it's not a hard answer. He loosens his arms and lays back on the covers. "Touch all you like. I don't break so easy and you've done so well for y'rself so far... "
Norrington: "You damn well know, Jack." Another sharp nip to his shoulder and James looks over the body laid out before him. Oh, my. Well then, best get to it.
"I'll take your word then and whatever else I can get." A smug little smile and he's leaning close to Jack's side, using one hand to wander over his chest, his sides, stomach, lower over his thighs. Someone is taking his time.
Jack: Jack takes in a sharp breath at the bite and narrows an eye at Norrington, leaning in close to whisper his accusation. "Cannibal."
Laying still beside James, the pirate lets that hand explore as he curls his own arms under his head. At ticklish and sensitive spots of stomach and thighs, Jack's muscles tremble and tense. His breath is sharp and expectant, but Norrington seems to be...skirting the issue. "It doesn' bite, mate, I swear it... "
Norrington: "Hardly." Nip. Lick. "...and I know it doesn't bite, I'm just taking my time. Impatient, aren't you?" Perhaps, James will, ah, take the matter to hand, as it were? He'll continue taking his sweet time, slowly working into a rhythm, quietly whispering all sorts of very interesting things.
Jack: "I..nnn..I can hardly be made to wait forever.." Ok, to hell with talking. Jack's head dips back against the bed, eyes closed and his mouth opening and shutting soundlessly like a fish tossed on sand. Here and there, a deep heavy moan escapes him as the muscles in his hips and stomach tighten in the fight to keep from thrusting against James' hand. He finally bites his lip, keeping his mouth shut and opening his eyes to watch Norrington and listen to those whispers.
"You're ..nn..you're out to drive me mad. 'm certain of it... --oh gods-- Don' stop, mind you.... please." And the good fight is lost as Jack's body bends and his hips strain up to make a plea for more friction.
Norrington: "And here I'd thought that it was you who'd been driving me mad. Funny ol' world, innit?" James shifts to a better angle and is a -most- obliging not-Commodore. "Good Jack, you look so good. So right, just relax, let me do this for you, s'good and right?"
Whenever he's not speaking, James is busy kissing and licking at Jack's neck. It seems that someone has a wee bit of an oral fixation. Yum.
Jack: Filthy toes curling and uncurling, Jack stretches every muscle in his body as James strokes him; moving like a cat in that first moment of petting. He moans and arches up subtly, feeling very relaxed indeed. "S'excellent, mate. Perfect... Nnn... Jus' keep at it."
Jack knew well that Norrington has a quick and clever tongue, but he had never previously imagined the extent of that mouth's talents. He dare not ask... Too soon yet. But, perhaps later? This is quite good right now.
Norrington: "Of course, Jack. Like I'd say no to you." C'mon, c'mon, just a little more? Is that all you want? You need? "I want to make you, want to make you...c'mon Jack, for me?"
Jack: At Norrington's command or no, there's very little that could stop Jack at this point. He'd like to do a great number of things...or have them done...and when he's told he won't be refused, he wants to ask for all of it, but then he's a bit dizzy and very very close.
"Nnn...Gods... yes! I...yer mouth...fuck... " This isn't right at all. "KISS ME."
One of those hard, nerve wracking kisses he was being hit with before and a few more seconds of the brilliant work James' hand is doing and Jack is sure he'll not only climax, but possibly explode. He puts an arm around Norrington's neck to pull him in close; hungry for those deliciously forceful lips.
Norrington: Yes. Yes. It's not just that he's kissing Jack, it's that he was asked to. There's something particularly appealing about that. Another hard, hungry kiss and he keeps moving his hand - almost? Almost?
C'mon, Jack. "I want you, I want you so much, I need you, please, Jack? Please? For me? Let go?"
Jack: The way James kisses is amazing and foreign. Jack has been kissed by a great many mouths. Of all of those, however, there were two real kinds: Gentle kisses, timid before him because they feared their love wouldn't be returned; and hard, cold kisses with no passion or emotion attached. The one that stood out from those was at once an admission of passions hidden, an apology, and a bitter consignment to death. ... Then there's how James kisses. It encompasses everything and Jack wants more.
Fingers tighten against Norrington's shoulder and Jack's thighs and stomach tense as orgasm hits him hard. He moans deep and loud in short, staggered breaths and arches up from the bed, as he spills over James' hand and onto his own stomach. Jack relaxes back down against the covers and smiles peacefully.
"Only because you asked so sweetly." He pants a little, trying to catch his breath. Jack's hand slides up and his fingers play idly at the edge of Norrington's hair and against his neck.
Norrington: James wipes his hand against the sheet and turns his head to nuzzle against Jack's hand. "Sweet, indeed." He almost hopes that there will be bruises on his shoulder, it would be nice to feel and remember this tomorrow.
James rarely, if ever, kisses anyone. It's too personal and he never lets down his guard enough to let someone get that close. Jack had better enjoy this while he can, as soon as Norrington is fully recovered, he'll be far too mortified to ever, -ever- do this again.
Jack: There may well be bruises there about fitted to the size of a pirate Captain's hand. Two sets as he needed a better grip after losing hold once. If Jack recalls the spots --and he does intend to try-- he'll make point of resting his hand there any time the opportunity is presented. Particularly in public.
The nuzzling is nice and it was all very relaxing. Jack doesn't want to fall asleep just yet, though, regardless of how good it feels and how warm and nice it would be curled up against Norrington. No. Once he's fully recovered from the aftershocks of a fabulous and unexpected bit of heavy petting. He wipes his belly clean with the sheets (clean being a relative term) and moves up onto his knees. Jack's hand smooths over James' neck, down the man's chest, and over his inner thigh. "Lie down, Jamie. ... Your turn." Oh, the things that grin could mean.
Norrington: If and when he does that, Norrington will either turn an interesting shade of red or disembowel Jack. Either/or. "Well, if you insist, who'm I to say no to the great Captain Jack Sparrow? The best pirate I've ever heard of."
A (mostly) lazy grin and he rolls onto his back, stretching out and getting comfortable. He's still a little thin in some places, the time alone at sea did a number on him. "C'mon then."
Jack: Sadly, Jack is very easily flattered. He smiles, wide and proud, knowing well that it must be true. He is a great pirate, isn't he? "S'why you've heard of me."
With the long expanse of the former commodore stretched out before him, Jack moves one leg over to straddle Norrington's thighs just below the hips. He runs both rough hands over James' chest and stomach a few times. He feels over the thin areas around ribs and hip bones and over each scar, then moves down to curl his fingers around more important parts. Jack's stroke is firm and, I dare say, practiced. "You, Jamie, are by far my favourite of all the men that'd ever set out t'hang me."
Norrington: He has a great many scars, most of them on his back and legs, but it's clear that he's never been one to hide while his men face danger. "If I make a single joke about being well hung, you can stop, so...ah, fuck, yes, I'll be qui-qui, God, don't stop." He's already hard and needy, arching up into Jack's hand.
Interestingly enough, despite his earlier chatter Norrington goes silent except for a few, breathy gasps and moans. He's so very responsive to everything and anything Jack does. >_> You'd think it's been ages since someone else had touched him.
Jack: "An' here I wos, planning to cut things short right up til you asked me not to. Aren't I terribly obedient?" He works his own hips against James a bit and leans down to kiss the man's chest; pressing his busy hand and the cock in its grip so warm and tight between them. Jack will leave small marks wherever he can, possessing a skillful mouth of his own and a tendency to suckle here and there.
If this isn't allowed after tonight, he shall be very very put out about it indeed. James is proving to be an excellent partner... if liquor is needed for this, Jack can provide.
Norrington: "V-very, yes, very obedient. Only had to do this, to, ah!, to touch you so you'd listen. Must remember for later. Very effective." Other than a few, stifled gasps and moans, he's going to shut up now. I wouldn't expect witty conversation from here on in.
Norrington doesn't seem to mind the possibility that he'll be covered in marks tomorrow. In fact, it's a rather, ah, 'encouraging' thought.
Jack: "Touch properly and ask the.. right things." Jack moves up again; balancing his weight on one hand, set to the side of Norrington's shoulder. His mouth works at the side of the man's neck, bringing blood to gather under the skin where he sucks and licks firmly.
As he pulls his mouth away to whisper hot breath against James' ear, Jack slows his hand and tightens his grip just slightly. "C'n hardly follow orders without them given, though, savvy? ... Whot is it you want, Commodore." His voice is a rich, heavy purr in James' ear. The pirate knows full well how difficult real thought must be. He can see it in the man's face. Makes this all the more fun.
Norrington: He almost whines when Jack slows, but soon enough he's able to (almost) put a sentence together. "Not-Commodore, fuck, Jack. 'm James, and -fuck-, Jack. I want, you should know, I want you. I need you, Jack."
A growl and he turns to arch up and kiss Jack. He really does like to do that and will pay for it with stubble burn on the next day. "Fuck me, touch me, for Christ's sake, Jack. What more do you, you...God that's good, Christ, what more do you want?" Blasphemer!
Jack: "I like the word, and you earned the title. To hell with their taking it from you." Well...with Jack aiding in James' loss of the title, actually. Somewhere, deep down (perhaps in the sub-cockles?), Jack feels a touch guilty over that. He'd never meant to lose James anything...aside from the honor of hanging Jack Sparrow. "If you'd rather, Jamie it is, then."
The kiss is well appreciated, as is the offer for a fuck. He's nearly ready to take James up on it...maybe when he's done here. Virile, though he may be, Jack isn't so young as he once was. It would be a poor first go. No, better to try other things. See if he can't get James to take the lord's name in vain a few more times. "All good suggestions, mate... An' you know whot it is I want, as well. Everything."
Moving one knee down to spread James' legs, Jack maneuvers to crouch between them. He lowers his head and finds this is so much easier with less hair, though he still misses it. He licks the tip, as if sampling that bitter salt taste, and chuckles before lowering further to wrap his lips around James and begin to match his hands' pace.
Norrington: If this were any other night and James wasn't so tipsy from his little run in with the Harlot, he'd be -shocked- and probably squeak before falling out of bed.
Fortunately for all involved, he's not about to do that. Instead, James will try to be absolutely silent and hold fast at the sheets. "I won't, fuck, Christ, won't give you everything. I -can't-, Jack. But, I, ah, damn, you've a persuasive mouth to you." Worried that he'd say more than he should, James did try to be silent. Alas, best laid plans don't result in a well laid Commodore.
Jack: Grinning around the task at hand, Jack makes soft sounds amounting to humming. A low vibrating warmth sounding his smug little personal victory in getting such intense reaction out of Norrington. Surely he can be promised the world and more with just a little effort. He sucks firmly, with just a bit of tongue coming into play.
How much can James take? It's a fun little game. Jack will make it all last as long as he can.
Norrington: Let's be honest, it's been a while since Norrington has had anyone other than himself and he's not going to be able to last for much longer. He's bitten down on his own lip to the point that it's almost bleeding. Please Jack? Please? He'll never actually say please, but it's implied.
A sudden, stifled shout and he's gone. Trying to arch and hold still all at once.
Jack: Desperation is adorable on James. At least, in Jack's opinion. He first saw it on the man (perhaps not this one, but the same man all the same) in Tortuga, though there was a touch too much anger in it to really appreciate the look. This is far better. He obliges and works his mouth in earnest.
Jack readies himself when James tenses; keeping his pace but prepared not to choke embarrassingly. He'll finish properly. Swallow down. Best not to disappoint.
Norrington: Oh dear, it seems that James has melted. He's gone all boneless, sleepy and nuzzly. C'mere, Jack. Kiss? One last, sleepy kiss? "Mm'thank you." Now's the time to ask him questions - he'll answer whatever you'd like.
Jack: Well...maybe one more kiss. Or two. Not too many. Well...perhaps another. "I like t'leave off with you owing me." Which is what Jack's done, in his opinion. That, and with any luck, impressed the whole evening on James Norrington's memory.
He stretches out languidly at James' side and wishes he felt like getting up to roll a cigarette, but he doesn't. "James?" Real names now. Nothing cute. "Had you ever..for a moment...wan'ed that before? Or s'it just a trick of the nexus?" Best to know now, really.
Norrington: "Mmm? I hadn't, no. Doesn't mean I didn't like it. Sort of, umm, I'd never had a mango until I came to Port Royal. I didn't know how much I wanted it until I'd had it." Ramble, ramble, ramble. "You?"
Jack: "Honestly?" He turns his eyes to James, brows raised. "No.. not at all. Thought of teasing you. Seeing whot you'd do." He'd even kissed James when they argued. Thought it would shut the man up, but was only kissed back instead and James went right on as if nothing happened.
"Suppose I'll not know for certain til you've sobered from.." He rolls his hand in the air. "..whotever's got into you."
Norrington: "I want to keep talking, but you'll only mock me when I'm sober." Sleeeeepy nuzzle. "You'll not leave Paragon will you? Not because of this? Even if I'm stupid and mad."
Jack: "Whot? No.. I mean...I may mock you. You're right there. I'll not leave your command over it, though. Promise." He chuckles and puts a tired arm around Norrington. Lord, this is strange. When Jack is spent, his bed company should really be on their way. "I've seen nothing to make you look stupid, Jamie, and I can hardly hold it against a man for being mad."
Norrington: "I'm rather good at being mad. Even if it's only my first time." Snuggling close and pulling up covers. It seems that someone intends to enjoy this for as long as he can. No one ever touches the captain. "A good promise."
Jack: "You are quite good at your madness. Truly. Took me a bit of time to get truly skilled with it." A lot of figuring out just what things he was doing oddly...then playing it off worse. Playing the town drunk. Even now...he's nowhere near to drunk, but he still hasn't let the act go for James. Most never get to see it. "...Does it frighten you, James? Being mad?"
Norrington: "Terrifying. I'm fine most days, some are bad. Some are very bad." He's listening to Jack's heartbeat and slowly falling asleep. "It's a lot of work to be sane, more than I knew it would be."
Jack: "I'd say it gets better, but I'll not make a liar of m'self tonight." He can't promise those things. It does get better, but not in the ways a man might hope. It's so damned odd to be talking about, but Jack's only just realizing he's never spoken about it before. "It's far too hard to be sane. I've decided against it entirely. Far less unpleasant this way." Mmm. Pulling the covers over himself as well, he'll lay beside James and talk until he's lost the companion in it. Then he'll do his best to sleep, rather than lie awake talking to himself.
Norrington: "I never expected it to." He's not too sure if he's quite willing to say that sanity is over-rated, but he's still pretty new at this madness game. "G'sleep, Jack. I'll be fine. I'll be here." Zzzzzzz.
Jack: Mmm. Perhaps with a warm body at his side, Jack will be spared any dreams of his death. He's been betrayed by one James Norrington, and so he can't trust completely. But still, Jack's not had anyone who understood so well in some great time. He'll curl up and find sleep as quickly as he's able. Maybe on waking, there won't be any unpleasant panicking or moaning of regrets? He can hope.