Sweet Victory
It took a great long while to accomplish, but Jack had finally done it. He had incorporated Pearl's assistance in driving the Mexican insane. She had to seem to turn Jack away. While he could have simply asked for the ship's assistance, Jack went for the more reliable tactic of angering her outright until she refused to share his bed. All it took was enough praise of his new boat. Some small mention of it's superiority to an outdated wooden vessel and she was duly furious.
Tossed from his bed and turned away by his true love, Jack went to weep on the great broad shoulders of his newest crewman. El questioned the captain's decision, but Jack explained that Bastiaan did not have the understanding of women that the mariachi did. He played his relationship with Pearl up to be far more rocky and terrible than was true. He tried to get pity out of El, but as soon as the pirate was laying in the Mexican's bed, El was wise to what was going on. Sands had tried to trick him into sex more than enough times for El to see it coming.
"Aren't you frustrated, though, mate? I could help with that. We'd both be better for it." Jack laid out on El's bunk, sprawling and trying to make himself look desirable. He watched the expression change to annoyed anger on El's face. Sands got this man to fuck him. Why couldn't he? They look the same and he has eyes and more sex appeal! Jack began to anger as well. He decided to get the man furious enough to abuse him. It had worked in the past, after all. "You bring no girls aboard. I know the boy's not servicing you."
That seemed to get El's anger up even more. Jack smiled.
"If he were, I would surely smell you on him when he comes to warm my bed, eh?"
Jack hasn't been having sex with Bastiaan at all, for the most part, but if it gets El worked into blind rage, all the better.
"You have sex with that boy?"
El had suspected as much, but wanted to believe otherwise. Bastiaan looks up to Jack, that was obvious from the moment he met the boy. It disgusted El to think that Jack would abuse that adoration in such a way. He stood and glared at the pirate captain spread out on his sheets. It was Sands' body and Sands mouth saying the same sort of terrible things Sands always said to get a rise from him.
"When the need strikes me, aye." Jack smiled. "Course, I'd not need to fuck Bastiaan if I'd another ... outlet." He propped himself up, shining that gold studded and smug grin.
El growled and turned his back on the pirate. It was a terrible thing that he looked like Sands. It made the mariachi both more enraged and more prone to forgive such a terrible crime.
"Leave, while I can still pretend you never said such a thing."
Jack pouted and sat up. He had tried everything he could think of. He had given up all other access to sex just to make this last attempt and it was failing as well.
"And why should you? Sheldon has done far worse things, I guarantee it, and you saw fit to sleep with him, eh? He said you were the best he's had. Said as much even after I'd fucked him savagely. Hardly seems possible from a man so withdrawn. I thought sure he'd given you to me to try, but you're being endlessly difficult. You'd rather I not go find my cabin boy to ease my loneliness? Then fuck me. Pretend I'm Sheldon if that's more to your fancy."
The pirate put up his very best Sands impression. "Stop bitching and fuck me, El."
The beating Jack received was terrible. All the same, he got his wish. He was left passed out in the bed as El left the ship. The mariachi asked Bastiaan to leave the crew with him, but the boy ultimately chose to stay. El considered it a pity. He would likely still help to defeat the greater tyrant that was ruling over the hotel, but he would not share space with the pirate any longer or serve him in any way. If Sands wanted to, he knew the man would find him. He would still be in the nexus.
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A day later, a bruised and uncertain Jack sits on the shore, drinking and watching the horizon. He somehow doubts it was all worth it. It's not as if he was never violently fucked out of anger before. He doesn't quite see what Sands found so spectacular in it. The man was good and there were enjoyable parts in it, but it was also painful and has left him sore and short a good set of hands to serve his ship. Damn Sands for trying to entice him into this. He'd have done better to leave it alone.
Tossed from his bed and turned away by his true love, Jack went to weep on the great broad shoulders of his newest crewman. El questioned the captain's decision, but Jack explained that Bastiaan did not have the understanding of women that the mariachi did. He played his relationship with Pearl up to be far more rocky and terrible than was true. He tried to get pity out of El, but as soon as the pirate was laying in the Mexican's bed, El was wise to what was going on. Sands had tried to trick him into sex more than enough times for El to see it coming.
"Aren't you frustrated, though, mate? I could help with that. We'd both be better for it." Jack laid out on El's bunk, sprawling and trying to make himself look desirable. He watched the expression change to annoyed anger on El's face. Sands got this man to fuck him. Why couldn't he? They look the same and he has eyes and more sex appeal! Jack began to anger as well. He decided to get the man furious enough to abuse him. It had worked in the past, after all. "You bring no girls aboard. I know the boy's not servicing you."
That seemed to get El's anger up even more. Jack smiled.
"If he were, I would surely smell you on him when he comes to warm my bed, eh?"
Jack hasn't been having sex with Bastiaan at all, for the most part, but if it gets El worked into blind rage, all the better.
"You have sex with that boy?"
El had suspected as much, but wanted to believe otherwise. Bastiaan looks up to Jack, that was obvious from the moment he met the boy. It disgusted El to think that Jack would abuse that adoration in such a way. He stood and glared at the pirate captain spread out on his sheets. It was Sands' body and Sands mouth saying the same sort of terrible things Sands always said to get a rise from him.
"When the need strikes me, aye." Jack smiled. "Course, I'd not need to fuck Bastiaan if I'd another ... outlet." He propped himself up, shining that gold studded and smug grin.
El growled and turned his back on the pirate. It was a terrible thing that he looked like Sands. It made the mariachi both more enraged and more prone to forgive such a terrible crime.
"Leave, while I can still pretend you never said such a thing."
Jack pouted and sat up. He had tried everything he could think of. He had given up all other access to sex just to make this last attempt and it was failing as well.
"And why should you? Sheldon has done far worse things, I guarantee it, and you saw fit to sleep with him, eh? He said you were the best he's had. Said as much even after I'd fucked him savagely. Hardly seems possible from a man so withdrawn. I thought sure he'd given you to me to try, but you're being endlessly difficult. You'd rather I not go find my cabin boy to ease my loneliness? Then fuck me. Pretend I'm Sheldon if that's more to your fancy."
The pirate put up his very best Sands impression. "Stop bitching and fuck me, El."
The beating Jack received was terrible. All the same, he got his wish. He was left passed out in the bed as El left the ship. The mariachi asked Bastiaan to leave the crew with him, but the boy ultimately chose to stay. El considered it a pity. He would likely still help to defeat the greater tyrant that was ruling over the hotel, but he would not share space with the pirate any longer or serve him in any way. If Sands wanted to, he knew the man would find him. He would still be in the nexus.
----------------------
A day later, a bruised and uncertain Jack sits on the shore, drinking and watching the horizon. He somehow doubts it was all worth it. It's not as if he was never violently fucked out of anger before. He doesn't quite see what Sands found so spectacular in it. The man was good and there were enjoyable parts in it, but it was also painful and has left him sore and short a good set of hands to serve his ship. Damn Sands for trying to entice him into this. He'd have done better to leave it alone.