Day 26: "Another Down Side" (PotC, Will, R)
Title: Another Down Side
Fandom: PotC
Character: Will Turner
Rating: R
Words: 450
Warning: Spoiler for PotC:AWE.
Another Down Side
One day.
All right, honestly, it was better than no days, better than being dead, but still. One day. With a girl that looked like that in his boots.
Will did wish he'd been rather a lot less of a gentleman prior, but that was water under the bridge, and he had next time to look forward to.
And he was. A lot.
He reclined on his bunk--just a regular bunk in a relatively ordinary cabin; no great ridiculous organ for him… He smirked. Not that his organ was small. He wished Elizabeth were here to smirk back when he said it aloud. He shook his head. Still water under the bridge, or, at the moment, over the stern. He reclined there and took himself in hand. Ten years was a long time, and he was already semi-dead and largely cursed, so there couldn't be any harm, now, could there?
He gave a long slow stroke, contemplating that perfect muscular thigh, remembering her with a sword in each hand, considering a long just-married kiss on the deck. He smiled and stroked faster.
And then there was a rap at the door.
Will cursed and yanked one of the rough woolen blankets over him (wondering, even as he did, what exactly the purpose of blankets underwater was, though he was glad to have one at the moment) and spoke loudly toward the door. "Come."
It was his father, looking somewhat disturbed. "Captain. Son. Will."
"What is it?"
"I …hate to bring this up…"
Well, whatever it was, apparently it wasn't urgent, or Bootstrap would have said. "Now isn't the best time," Will said, "if you don't mind?"
Bootstrap looked at the floor. "Er."
Will rolled his eyes. "What is it, then?"
"Well, I realize I wasn't around when you were a boy--"
"I think we've been over this, haven't we?" Will's erection was entirely gone now, but he still didn't want to go directly from that to a mournful rehash of his fatherless childhood.
"--and so we've never had a discussion of this sort, but what you're doing now?"
Will blinked. "What?"
Bootstrap shuffled his feet. "Son. I've said it before. Part of the ship, part of the crew…"
"What?"
"I'll be plainer. We can all tell. Not quite like seeing you, but… I was nominated to tell you. It's not so much we mind, you understand, but we thought you might."
Will groaned and flopped back down on the bunk. It was going to be a long ten years.
"Sorry," Bootstrap said as he left the cabin.
Will flopped over on his stomach and made a hatch mark on the wall. One lonely hatch mark. 3,649 to go.
Fandom: PotC
Character: Will Turner
Rating: R
Words: 450
Warning: Spoiler for PotC:AWE.
Another Down Side
One day.
All right, honestly, it was better than no days, better than being dead, but still. One day. With a girl that looked like that in his boots.
Will did wish he'd been rather a lot less of a gentleman prior, but that was water under the bridge, and he had next time to look forward to.
And he was. A lot.
He reclined on his bunk--just a regular bunk in a relatively ordinary cabin; no great ridiculous organ for him… He smirked. Not that his organ was small. He wished Elizabeth were here to smirk back when he said it aloud. He shook his head. Still water under the bridge, or, at the moment, over the stern. He reclined there and took himself in hand. Ten years was a long time, and he was already semi-dead and largely cursed, so there couldn't be any harm, now, could there?
He gave a long slow stroke, contemplating that perfect muscular thigh, remembering her with a sword in each hand, considering a long just-married kiss on the deck. He smiled and stroked faster.
And then there was a rap at the door.
Will cursed and yanked one of the rough woolen blankets over him (wondering, even as he did, what exactly the purpose of blankets underwater was, though he was glad to have one at the moment) and spoke loudly toward the door. "Come."
It was his father, looking somewhat disturbed. "Captain. Son. Will."
"What is it?"
"I …hate to bring this up…"
Well, whatever it was, apparently it wasn't urgent, or Bootstrap would have said. "Now isn't the best time," Will said, "if you don't mind?"
Bootstrap looked at the floor. "Er."
Will rolled his eyes. "What is it, then?"
"Well, I realize I wasn't around when you were a boy--"
"I think we've been over this, haven't we?" Will's erection was entirely gone now, but he still didn't want to go directly from that to a mournful rehash of his fatherless childhood.
"--and so we've never had a discussion of this sort, but what you're doing now?"
Will blinked. "What?"
Bootstrap shuffled his feet. "Son. I've said it before. Part of the ship, part of the crew…"
"What?"
"I'll be plainer. We can all tell. Not quite like seeing you, but… I was nominated to tell you. It's not so much we mind, you understand, but we thought you might."
Will groaned and flopped back down on the bunk. It was going to be a long ten years.
"Sorry," Bootstrap said as he left the cabin.
Will flopped over on his stomach and made a hatch mark on the wall. One lonely hatch mark. 3,649 to go.