yay fic! x-posted everywhere
Omg, it took so long for this to be posted. I really wish my computer had Word. Or at least that WordPad had ABC check and word count.
Title: A Game of Cat and Mouse
Rating: NC-17, for sex
Pairing: Sparrington, what else? :P
Summary: James gets another taste of the supernatural.
Disclaimer: None of this actually happened. I have used and abused the PotC characters, and (not)repented about it. Any mistakes in this are mine own.
Warning: There is sex, so if it's not your cuppa, don't read it. And Cotton's Parrot is Teh Ev0l in this.
Feedback: Yes please!
Thanks: meletor_et_al and aradiria for beta work, and for squeeing at the entire thing. I <33 you!
Commodore James Norrington had a regular routine that he went about every day. He got up every morning at dawn, bathed, shaved, got dressed, had a bit of breakfast, and left for the Fort. He always took the same route, passing by the baker's - on his right - and the gypsy's shop - on his left. His office stayed filled with his presence the entire day, unless, of course, his work that day took him down to the docks, or he had to make a personal visit to some manner of person or another. At the end of the day, he made sure everything on his desk was in order, papers filed in their proper places, then left the Fort for home. His route was the same as the morning, aside from the fact that now the gypsy's shop and baker's were on opposite sides. When he got home, he removed his uniform and replaced it with his shift, climbing onto his bed and under the covers for a good night's rest.
And when he awoke the next morning, he would do it all over again.
The morning James's regular routine flew out the window, he didn't notice anything was amiss right away. His covers felt unusually heavy, and his shift was strangely loose on him, and when he stretched, his muscles rippled in a way he'd never felt before. When he couldn't get out of bed right away, he wondered briefly if he'd had anything to drink the previous night, but shook that thought from his mind. He rarely imbibed alcohol, and even more rarely than that did he get drunk enough to completely forget about it the next day.
So if it wasn't alcohol, what was it? James searched through his memory of the day before, going over everything he did and everywhere he went. There wasn't anything that had happened differently, except... There was that strange woman outside the gypsy's shop. But that hardly merited his immobility this morning. No matter. He would go about his usual routine. Heaviness of limb could hardly keep him away from his duty.
Even as he crawled from beneath the covers, though, he knew something was definitely wrong, as the bed seemed much larger than it should have, and when he got to the side of the bed he slid right off and ripped the top cover clean through as he fell. Amazingly, he landed on his feet, though possibly helped by the fact that his hands were tangled in the cover. He yanked on his arm, yelped as it sent a sharp pain through his fingers.
Frustrated, he kicked his feet at the annoying bit of cloth, and froze as what were definitely not his feet flung out in his line of sight. An innocent bird chirped outside his window, and he hissed - hissed? - at it and pulled back on his arm, whatever holding him releasing and sending him tumbling into his full-length mirror.
Turning slowly so as not to frighten himself out of his skin any more than he already had, James came face to face with a most unusually colored cat. He batted a paw at the image, and watched in horror as it simultaneously did the same thing. All at once, he remembered the woman from the gypsy's shop, and of the conversation they'd had.
She was an old woman, or seemed to be, with grayed hair tied up at the back of her neck, and bangles and jewelry on nearly every inch of her skin. When James passed by her on his way home from the Fort, she stepped in his path and waved a finger at his startled look. "Don't look so startled, boy. S'not like you're not approached by someone ev'ryday," she said in an odd, hoarse voice, seeming quiet yet too loud at the same time.
"I beg your pardon, Madam. It's just that I don't believe I've seen you here before."
"Ah, no, I suppose you haven't. But you weren't really looking then, were you?" Her knowing grin reminded him all too much of someone else he knew.
"I suppose not. I don't know how today could be any different, though." James frowned as her grin widened. "If you'll excuse me, I really should be getting home - "
"You've nothing to do there but sleep, boy. You can spare a few more minutes. Today is different because the cat has sighted the mouse again." At his confused look, she elaborated. "The cat is always chasing the mouse, yet never catches him. He started to believe the mouse may have never been there, but today has changed his mind."
He shook his head. "I don't believe I understand your riddles."
The woman smiled, and for a moment she looked young, and her voice had a melodious ring to it. "You'll understand soon enough, don't you worry. Just keep in mind, though." She gave him a warning look, and suddenly she looked the old woman again. She patted his cheek lightly. "This cat has come to realize he doesn't want to catch the mouse to kill him anymore. Go on home now, James Norrington."
James felt he should be laughing hysterically right about now, and he would be if he didn't feel so lost as to what he should do. He was just about to turn away from the mirror when he noticed one of the reasons for his markings being unusual. Most of his body was a deep blue color, the same as his Commodore's jacket. The top of his head and his ears were a darker shade of blue, while his face and front paws were cream colored. His hind paws were black, and up his hind legs to about halfway, the fur was white, along with his entire neck and all down his front, save for a few areas where the fur was gold. He also had gold along the edge of all the lighter blue, on the tip of his tail, and the tips of his ears. His eyes were the same green they always had been.
Looking at his reflection fully again, he looked like a cat with a built in Commodore uniform. Now he laughed, or as much as he could considering the circumstances.
***
When he didn't find the situation funny anymore, which was almost immediately, he stalked over to his desk, fully intending on leaving a note for his housekeeper, though he wasn't sure yet how he would go about doing that. It seemed someone had already perceived what he would do, as he soon found out when he leapt onto the desk and found a note already there. Probably written by that witch, he thought. It informed his housekeeper that he'd be gone on a much needed holiday, she could go about as she usually did if she wanted to, and that he'd pay her when he returned.
Well, now what? There was a chirping at the window again, and he saw the window was slightly open. Instinctively, he crouched down on the edge of the desk, shifting his feet in preparation before leaping at the window, hitting it with his paws and banging it open, then landing precariously on the edge of the sill. Ungracefully, he slid off and fell into the rose bushes. Really should have thought more before doing that.
After searching himself over to make sure he hadn't been injured, he slunk along the flowerbeds to the path leading into town. He felt a bit silly to be slinking along the path, but then, the whole situation was silly, so he supposed it didn't really matter. He reached the town faster than he usually did otherwise, and he weaved through the bustling legs of the townspeople going about their daily business until he reached the gypsy's shop. He would have gone inside, had it not been for the large oafish man kicking out at him and sending him leaping into some innocent bystander's legs, causing them to twist about and knock someone else over. It soon became pandemonium in the little area, and he felt terribly sorry for feeling the need to escape, but he really was rather terrified of someone squashing him flat.
Quick hands snatched him out of the path of a trampling donkey - and wasn't that a strange feeling - and suddenly he was nose to nose with his mouse. It was rather interesting to look at the man from this perspective, but he didn't have enough time to dwell on it before he was snatched away again, this time by large, clumsy hands, and the man wasn't nearly as pleasant to look at. Or breathe near.
"Here's the culprit to this mess!" James's ears went flat against his head and he hissed, struggling against the grip the man had on him.
"Beg pardon, sir." And there was that familiar hand bow. "I'm terr'bly sorry 'bout all this. 'E's not used to large crowds like this, an' 'e escaped my grasp. T'won't 'appen again, promise." He reached out for James, whom the other man grudgingly handed back over.
"You're right, it won't. Best keep a tight hold on that one." The man grumbled and walked away.
James was once again held nose to nose with Jack Sparrow. "What's this talk of a mess, then, eh?" James's ears went back again, but he didn't hiss, choosing instead to place his paws on the pirate's face and push. He looked over his shoulder and cringed at the dirty looks most everyone threw his way as they picked themselves back up. Meowing piteously, he looked back at Sparrow. "Ah. Best hurry away 'fore they get any ideas in their heads, aye?" Sparrow tucked him under an arm and weaved unsurprisingly to the docks, where a longboat waited patiently.
The pirate's grip on him tightened when he struggled to get away. Sparrow's unwillingness to unhand him earned his browned skin a few scratches, which did nothing but cause the man to shake an admonishing finger under his nose. Seeing as it was so close to his mouth, and it was always logical not to wave anything in front someone's face, James took a bite at the finger, but missed and got a tap on his nose for his troubles. "My, but you're a trouble maker, aren't you?"
James growled and leapt from Sparrow's arms and into the longboat, landing squarely in the middle of one of the benches, where he resolutely planted himself until it was absolutely necessary for him to move.
***
"No no no!" Sparrow flapped his arms and pointed at the blue, furry creature curled up on his bed. "Get off! You'll get your fur all over!"
James yawned, making sure Sparrow could see all his teeth, then rolled and rubbed himself over Sparrow's bed.
The pirate gaped at him for a moment, then leapt towards the bed, which was suddenly empty save for the hundreds of little blue hairs when he landed. "Spiteful little monster! Should've let you get trampled!" Sparrow growled and started sweeping the cat hairs off his bed furiously, throwing glares at the uninterestedly flicking tail on the other side of the cabin.
James grinned and jumped onto a bookshelf, looking at all the books there. It didn't surprise him that the pirate could read, if that was indeed the reason all the books were in the captain's cabin. There was one book in particular that stood out from the rest, in the way it looked uninteresting and a little boring. James stretched up and pulled the book from the shelf, and found it was more of a journal than anything else. There wasn't anything keeping it closed, so when it fell to the ground it opened to a random page halfway through. He jumped down, aware of Jack's suspicious gaze on him, and looked at the page. His name was mentioned a few times in its many different forms, from Commodore to just James. Glancing to the bed, he noticed with a start that Sparrow wasn't there anymore. He looked to his sides, and was just about to turn around when he was picked up and the journal snatched away.
"That's not for your eyes, or anyone else's. You best remember that." Sparrow admonished him, putting the journal on the top of the bookshelf. He carried James over to the table and plopped him onto it, then plopped himself into a chair. "You're a rather unusual breed, you know that? You can read, you're about the size of a panther cub, and your coloring is...well, strange." The man produced a small bottle of rum from his jacket and took a gulp of it.
James raised an eyebrow, or what passed as one, and sat down in front of the pirate. You're strange, you drunkard.
Sparrow sat up and pointed at him. "There! That! You just gave me a Look."
As I'm sure every other species on this planet has when spending time with you.
"There 'tis again!" He pulled his chair closer to the table and looked at James until James looked away. "You remind me of someone. Now that I think about it, you actually look a bit like 'im, too."
Wonderful. I look like a cat when I'm human.
Sparrow laughed. "Well, I've got nothing to call you, so I think it's about time you got a name."
Dear God, don't let him name me something embarrassing like Snuffles or Socks.
"Well, since you remind me so much of 'im, you might as well be named after 'im as well. It's settled then. You'll go by James from now on."
Less addled than I thought. Well done, Sparrow. James batted lightly at the grinning face. Now leave me alone.
***
Eventually, the two came to a compromise on where James would sleep. After James jumped onto the bed for the fifth time, Sparrow took most of the sheets and blankets, folded them into sloppy rectangles, and placed them on the sea chest at the end of the bed. Because of the number of blankets, James's makeshift bed was level with Sparrow's, and looked nearly a part of the bed itself. Even so, the pirate knew this wasn't the reason the cat finally stopped; James was just bored with annoying him right then.
Sparrow gave James a dirty look and flopped onto his bed, yanking his blankets over himself. He stretched his feet out and moved them around, grinning when one of them came in contact with a furry side. A growl was his response and he snickered into his pillow, but stopped when he inhaled cat hair. Spluttering, he sat up and glared at James, who was looking back at him with a smug look. "Bloody creature.." Sparrow grumbled as he fell back against his pillows, a cloud of blue hair floating up. He decided sleeping on his back would be safest at the moment.
At some point in the middle of the night, a foot collided with James's side again. Sparrow, retract your foot, or I will remove it. When his growling had no effect whatsoever and the foot came at him again, James jumped out of the way, then saw what the problem was. It appeared Sparrow was asleep, but wasn't enjoying it very much. Well, neither was James.
He crept closer to the restless man until he was right next to his face. He poked a paw at a warm cheek. Sparrow. Captain? Jack Sparrow! Captain Jack Sparrow! Captain Jack! Captain Sparrow! James sighed and jumped lightly onto Sparrow's chest and started kneading. The pirate calmed, still asleep, then rolled to his side. James slid to the mattress, tucked between a steady heart beat and a curled arm. He stayed there, blaming the action on tiredness, and fell asleep wrapped around a brown arm.
***
The next afternoon, Sparrow walked into his cabin to find James splashing about in a small water basin. Upon closer inspection, he saw James had knocked a bar of soap into it, and was attempting to wash himself. Or eat the soap.
Sparrow snickered, and James huffed at him. Are you just going to stand there, or help me out? The pirate snickered again, then came over and picked up the bar of soap, which James immediately started to rub himself against. Sparrow helped him a bit with his tail and hind legs, then rinsed him, laughing out right when James leapt dripping out of the basin to track little paw prints across the decking.
James eyed the bed with a mischievous glint, but was caught around the middle and pulled back before he could do anything. A soft cloth was thrown over him and rubbed over his fur, drying him off. Sparrow's fingers stroked along his back, and he slunk away from the touch, keeping his body as low to the deck as he could to get away from the invading fingers. It wasn't that he didn't like to be touched. He supposed that was the problem; he liked the pirate touching him all too much. Probably just the whole cat factor, that was all.
"Well, since I am no longer needed in here..." Sparrow stood, snatched a bottle of rum from beside the bed, and started towards the door. When he felt a slight brush against his leg he looked down into questioning green eyes. "I've never known a cat to be inquiring as to what it can do."
Normally, I wouldn't, but...well, it is your ship. James's tail batted against Sparrow's leg again, impatient.
"Just be careful of Cotton's parrot. 'E’s displeased with your presence, though no one's quite sure why. The parrot, not Cotton." Permission granted, James trotted off halfway through the pirate's rambling.
***
Perhaps I should have stayed in the cabin.. James thought as a sudden loud clicking started from around the corner. He hunkered down, leaning to the left a bit as if that would help him to see who, or what, was coming before it saw him. A loud squawk made him curl into himself, his ears fly back, and his eyes squinch shut. When he tentatively opened them again, he found he was face to face with the largest bird he'd ever seen. It squawked again, then lashed out with its small talons, nearly catching James in the face before he scrambled back.
He hissed and retaliated, just catching an outstretched wing before the huge bird advanced on him, hitting him squarely in the chest with the top of its head and knocking him over. James didn't have enough time to roll away before the bird - which he now assumed to be Cotton's parrot - pounced atop his stomach and started pecking and tearing wherever it could reach, continuously screeching, "Show yer true colors!" Any attempts to dislodge the hostile creature were thwarted by it latching onto James.
Yowling as long and hard as he could while keeping the bird from pecking his eyes out, James hoped someone would stop by and take pity on him soon.
At the same moment James ended the thought, someone was there and was batting Cotton's parrot away from him. Before they could pick him up, he took off for the captain's cabin faster than anyone could say 'mainmast'.
When the captain entered the cabin, James was curled up in the corner farthest from the door. He huddled closer about himself when Jack approached him cautiously, recent events making him realize just how very small he was. He would have scratched Jack if he weren't in the condition he was, but seeing as he was, he really didn't want to cause himself any more pain than what he was already in. Only a small noise left him when he was gently lifted and placed just as gently on one of the pirate's pillows, and his limbs pulled away from his belly.
He panicked when Jack - and this was the third time he'd referred to the pirate as such. It was only fair to be on first name basis with the man, though; this was the second time he'd saved James from a gruesome, bloody end - started to clean the wounds, and attacked the hand, kicking and biting weakly at it. He knew he wasn't causing any damage; his claws weren't extended, and he was really only just clinging to the warm hand. He looked up at Jack miserably.
"Let go, James," Jack said softly but firmly, resuming his cleaning when James released him and went limp. He would have thought James dead were it not for the barely perceptible rising and falling of his chest, or the very faint purring that started when Jack stroked a finger along the uninjured ear. Jack smiled and curled around the cat-covered pillow on the bed.
...This doesn't mean I like you..
***
James was still purring the next morning. He wasn't quite sure how to turn it off. A few times he'd managed to stop, but it always started up again when Jack would touch him. He knew the pirate soon figured that out himself, because he was constantly running a finger or a hand over James's head and back, sometimes even under his chin. And when Gibbs had noticed James's constant purring, Jack only grinned in response to the older man saying, "I think yer feline's broken."
He made sure to stick close to Jack for fear of being caught alone with Cotton's Parrot again. The situation had been properly taken care of, but the feathered creature kept giving him looks. That bird knew. And it'd told Cotton, James was sure of it. Why else would the mute give him the same knowing look the bird did, minus the hostility?
In a matter of a few hours, James had mastered the art of balancing on Jack's shoulder, and once he had, he made sure he was there more often than not. It was a bit terrifying to be so high off the ground, but the point of view was so close to being normal that he didn't worry about that issue. He's also managed to figure out how to dig his claws into Jack's clothes only, and not his skin, for which Jack was constantly thanking him.
It wasn't until after the first raid since James came aboard that he noticed something had changed. Of course, there was the matter of his opinion of the pirate drastically altered, and he didn't shrink away from Jack's touches. Instead of more often than not, he was always seen perched on Jack's shoulder. Instead of just letting Jack touch him or scratch him behind the ears, or stroke his back, he would seek out the touches now. His furry little head would bump against Jack's hand, demanding attention. His long lean body would rub against the pirate's legs when he wasn't atop a swaying shoulder, and when atop said swaying shoulder, his face was always pressed up to Jack's. Jack was extremely delighted by the attention James was bestowing upon him, and James felt likewise with Jack.
But he was confused.
Not only was he more comfortable with Jack than he'd ever been with anyone save for his mother, but he'd begun to...feel things, towards the pirate. Things he'd felt faintly towards Mrs. Turner, when she was still Miss Swann, things he'd never thought he could feel towards another man. He may have been turned into a cat by a mad old gypsy, but he was still a man on the inside.
Jack's ramblings in the cabin didn't help matters any. The pirate had begun to talk about James - or, James as the Commodore. He talked about every feature, every facial expression, the way James's eyes changed color without a moment's notice. The first time Jack had talked about him, he'd distracted the man by batting at the trinkets in his hair. After that, it had taken James longer and longer to distract Jack, before he just stopped altogether.
He began to realize that he noticed everything about Jack that Jack noticed about him. The features, the expressions, the eye color changes. He'd started sleeping curled on or beside Jack ever since the Parrot Incident. Eventually, he'd figured out how to control his purring contraption, but had a bit of difficulty with it when Jack scratched a particularly hard to reach spot on his back, and it went completely haywire when Jack would give him a massage.
He'd discovered one late night when Jack was poking and prodding at him that, even as a cat, his stomach was extremely ticklish. He'd squirmed and wriggled and tried to get away, but it was next to impossible to stop Jack from pursuing something interesting. He'd gotten a paw in the eye for that.
James wished he could speak. Or at least that Jack could understand him fully. If he could just talk to the man, maybe he could sort out what he was feeling. Or maybe not. Jack's constant stream of words seemed hardly coherent. But he supposed they didn't have to. Just to get them all out there put them into perspective. James huffed in frustration and flicked his tail irritably at Jack's fidgeting fingers.
If he only knew how to break the curse. Perhaps a confession of some sort would do the trick. Oh, yes. That would work perfectly. 'Jack, the Commodore has heard everything you've said, and he's not all that disturbed by it.' Maybe talking about his feelings would work. It seemed to work with Jack. James crawled up the man's chest and stopped just short of his face. He reached a paw out and touched it to Jack's lips. Shut up, pirate. It's my turn to talk.
Jack obediently kept quiet. Satisfied, James started. Lately, I've begun to be effected by you. By your touch, the way you look when you talk about me. If I weren't feline right now - Oh, for the love of - you can't even understand me, what's the point. James growled and paced across the bed. This is all your fault, you know that? You could have sailed into a different port, and I never would have met you, and therefore wouldn't be a cat right now. But then I wouldn't have met you, which due to recent discovery doesn't sound so appealing anymore, despite what I may have said - Don't touch me when I'm angry with you!
James hissed and lashed out at Jack with claws extended, just catching a tan finger before the hand was snatched back. "Right. I'll leave you alone then." Jack looked at the sulking James for another moment before leaving the cabin, the door not closing all the way behind him.
Flopping down, the anger and frustration suddenly drained from him, James sighed, then chuckled to himself. Thinking over how they'd acted and the look Jack had given him, it was almost as if James were human and he'd had a silly argument with his lover. Except that James wasn't human, and they weren't lovers, but the sentiment was the same. He sighed again and rolled to his side for a catnap.
***
When the cabin door opened a few hours later, James woke up and looked at the door, expecting to see Jack. Until he heard the clicking. Oh, leave me alone. He shut his eyes again and tried not to draw the bird's attention to himself. It didn't seem to matter what he did, though, because a moment later there was a fluttering and then a soft thump on the bed.
He warily opened his eyes and eyed the bird slowly coming closer to him. When it squawked, much the same as it had when it attacked him, James leapt from the bed and shot out of the cabin as fast as his little legs could carry him, running in blind panic towards the helm, where he knew Jack would be. Without pause, he scrambled up the pirate's leg and torso to his shoulder, where he proceeded to bury his face under the man's chin and hide his body in the wild, black hair as the parrot flew from the cabin after him.
"COTTON! What 'ave I said about that bird? Restrain it, or I will rip its wings off and toss it to the sharks!" James stayed exactly where he was until the squawking faded to the point that he couldn't hear it anymore, then peeked over Jack's far shoulder, just to make sure. When he was positive that the bird was no where in sight, he bumped his face repeatedly against Jack's cheek in thanks, his little heart still pounding rapidly against his ribs.
"I take it I've been forgiven for earlier?" Jack ran his fingers down James's tail, grinning when it flicked playfully against his wrist.
There's nothing to forgive, Jack. It was my fault. James wrapped himself around Jack's neck and purred loudly to get his point across. Jack laughed, the vibration from his throat to James's side causing him to meow happily and press closer.
He clung to Jack's shoulder the rest of the day, shifting himself around to make Jack's tasks easier, then moving back into place when he was done. The only times he had to tighten his hold was when they passed by Cotton with his parrot. The mute pirate would always glance at him apologetically, one hand raising to distract the bird from any ideas it might take into its feathered head.
When they finally returned to the cabin for the night, James was just draped over Jack's shoulder, his front half hanging down the man's chest, his other half hanging down a shoulder blade. He slid onto the bed when Jack sat on it to remove his boots, yawned and stretched and waited for Jack to get settled in the bed. Tiredly, he clambered onto Jack's chest, then leaned forward to touch his nose lightly to the pirate's before dropping his head and curling up. A soft purr started up as his tail brushed over Jack's heart, his sleep fuzzy mind murmuring exhaustedly as he fell asleep. Love you, Jack.
***
James awoke the next morning to fingers stroking lightly over his face. He blinked his eyes open slowly, then squinted when everything was distorted. He raised his paws to his eyes and rubbed them, then pulled his paws quickly away again when he didn't feel any fur on them.
When his vision cleared, he looked at his hands, for that was the only thing they could be if there wasn't any fur on them. Sure enough, he had perfectly normal, long-fingered, non-furry human hands. With a few more scars than there had been the last time he'd seen them.
Overcome with excitement, he flung the blankets aside and stared down at his pale, naked body. He noticed the fresh scars spanning from his hands to his feet, and touching the ones he could reach proved them to still be tender. When he finally satisfied himself in looking over his body, he looked at the shocked man next to him.
The pirate stared at him for a moment, his jaw moving but no sound coming out. "..James?" James nodded. Jack came to within an inch of James's face and looked at him with narrowed eyes. James found it hard not to lean forward. The pirate's eyes widened and he pulled away slightly. "And you...you've been here..as..?"
James nodded again, smiling, and cleared his throat. "Here the whole time, yes, as a cat." It felt strange to actually say words after so long without.
"Now, wait a moment. You've been 'ere an entire month. As a cat. And you couldn't 'ave told me somehow?"
James's smiled slipped and he blushed. "Well, I...hadn't thought of that, actually."
"Yes, too busy cuddling up to me."
"Last I heard, you didn't sound like you would have minded all that much."
An awkward silence followed. "So..you 'eard everything?"
"Jack, I was a cat, not deaf."
"Is that the only reason why you were being so friendly?"
James blushed again. "No," he said quietly, feeling shy and exposed. He reached for the blankets he so thoughtlessly threw aside, and started to pull them back across his lap when a brown hand grasped his wrist. He looked up at Jack.
"James. Why did you change back?"
He looked at Jack for a moment, reversing the hold Jack had on him, and pulling Jack's hand towards him to place it on his chest. "I finally saw you."
Jack crawled forward and draped himself over James. "You didn't see me before?" He grinned cheekily.
James rolled his eyes. "I saw you, you insufferable pirate. Just not in the way I was supposed to."
"And how much does 'that way' include?" Jack folded his hands over James's chest and rested his chin on them.
James pulled Jack closer and spoke into his ear, his lips brushing against it. "That includes being completely enamored with a certain pirate captain... and being utterly debauched by him."
Jack shuddered against him. His interest was definitely piqued, as it was poking at James's naked hip. "And, ah..when can the debauching part begin?"
James stretched beneath the pirate, putting himself on display. The other man's eyes roved over his skin hungrily, a fidgety-fingered hand reaching out, hesitating for a moment, then resting on the pale stomach, the scars a slightly darker shade. His fingers traced over the little ridges delicately, looking up at the sharp intake of breath. James's mouth hung open and his eyes were closed tightly, as if the touch brought pleasure-filled pain.
"James." Green eyes opened, revealing vertically slit irises that were nearly thin black lines. Jack's breath caught in his throat. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," James answered breathlessly, gasping when Jack's thumbs brushed over the tingling scars. A single experimental finger stroked firmly over a scar that was dangerously low under his gut, and he growled and yanked Jack's face to his, kissing him desperately as his long legs wrapped tightly about the pirate's waist. "Jack. Make love to me now."
Jack didn't feel particularly inclined to move, until a sharp nip to his bottom lip made him pull away. His breath caught again at the tousled hair, the flushed skin, the look in James's still-slitted eyes, and he stole another kiss before stretching towards the little table next to the bed, the legs around him loosening slightly to make the reach easier. He thumped open the single drawer and rooted around, pausing a few times in his search as James rubbed distractingly against him.
"Tease." He glared half-heartedly at the man beneath him when he returned with a small clay pot, but the glare melted away when James's eyes darkened with desire. Unable to resist, Jack leaned forward and kissed James again, licking slowly at the red lips as his fingers fumbled at the waistband of the trousers he still wore. His wiggling made James moan softly, so when he kicked the trousers from his ankles to the floor, he did it again, more slowly.
"Jack," came a warning growl, and Jack laughed into James's neck, reaching for the pot he'd set down. Removing the lid, he dipped two fingers in, thoroughly coating them in oil before pulling them back out. He tipped his head to James's collarbone and successfully distracted him by sucking on a scar, while his glistening fingers traveled down. When they reached James's erection they paused for a few moments, stroking slickly over the rigid flesh before continuing on their path.
When the first finger slid into him, James's head tilted back and his hands grasped at the blankets under him. He moved his hips in a slow undulation, his breathing increasing as Jack moved with him. His breath left him in a rush when Jack's finger skimmed something inside him, his hips bucking and his scars sparking. "Ah! Jack..more."
Another finger joined the first and they both twisted, causing James to all but throw himself against Jack. The pirate worked his fingers in and out slowly, despite James's attempts at quickening the pace. "Jack," James gasped as Jack twisted his fingers again. "Jack, please.."
"Please what, love?" Jack grinned as he plunged his fingers in deep, enjoying what James was showing him tremendously.
"Please. I need you inside me." James could hardly get the words out for all the gasps and whimpers breaking them apart.
"Ah, the magic words." Jack pulled his fingers gently from James, grabbed the pot again and slathered a generous amount of the oil over his erection. He grasped James's hips and positioned himself, catching James's eyes and holding the gaze as he pushed slowly in. His hands sought out the other man's, linking their fingers together and bringing their hands up next to his head, while his hips rocked forward and sent him further in to James.
They settled into a slow rhythm, James mumbling incoherently with each glide in, his fingers kneading Jack's hands. Jack fitted his face right alongside James's, hearing the harsh panting and feeling the restless writhing of his lover. He took pity on him and turned his head to murmur in a sweaty ear. "James." He squeezed James's hands and was rewarded with a breathless moan. "Come for me, love."
James moaned again and his entire body clenched around Jack's, liquid heat spilling over his stomach, his back arching. He went boneless, his legs falling to the bed, his limp body still moving with Jack's last few thrusts into him. Jack tensed and murmured his name, lurching forward with the force of his orgasm. His arms gave out and he collapsed on top of James, breathing heavily against the pale skin.
"Jack."
"Hmm?" The pirate kissed James's chin and sighed contentedly. He slid his hands down and placed them on James's hips, steadying himself as he pulled out slowly, thrilling at the small noise James made.
"Nothing." Jack grinned at the blissful look on James's face and wrapped around the sprawled man, using one of the blankets they weren't laying on to clean the mess from James's stomach. Curiously, he ran his fingers over the scars. A shudder coursed throughout the man and he stretched, pressing against Jack. "I love you, Jack," James whispered, cupping Jack's cheek and pulling him close, kissed him softly.
Jack beamed at him and rubbed their noses together, returning the kiss. "Love you too, James."
***
Jack scowled at the growing chunk of land that was Port Royal, tempted to spin the wheel in the opposite direction. He'd just gotten James, and now he had to give him back.
"Jack, stop looking like that." Pale arms wrapped around his waist and a chin hooked over his shoulder. "You can come see me again in a week. I just have to get settled again and assure the people that I'm not abandoning them."
"Bloody honorable Commodore.." Jack grumbled, leaning away when James tried to kiss his neck in apology.
James bit his shoulder instead, his irises flashing vertical for a moment, long enough for Jack to see. "Whenever you do come in, make sure you're not seen by anyone, aside from the Turners. There isn't much I can do for you if you're caught."
"You really ought to stop doing that, else people will think you're cursed and won't want you as their Commodore. Actually, do it as often as you can, preferably around easily offended people." He got a pinch on the side for his cheek. "Alright. You go and get yourself settled, and I'll come visit you again in a couple days."
"Thank you."
A sudden loud squawk drew their attention to their feet, where Cotton's parrot was staring up at them with narrowed eyes. The now-small bird stepped towards James and delivered a swift peck to his foot before hopping away. It squawked again, indignantly this time, as Jack flailed his hands at the bird, nearly smacking it. The parrot returned to its owner.
"That bird doesn't like me very much." Jack only chuckled.
James stayed glued to Jack the rest of the way to Port Royal, and only let go long enough for them to climb into one of the longboats and be lowered to the sea, where Jack rowed them to shore, well out of sight of the Fort. When Jack got out of the boat with him, he gawked. "Jack, what are you doing?"
"I'm coming with you. Now, don't start lecturing me. T'would be pointless to sail away, only to come back within two days. I'll stay with the young'uns. Hush. You go do your Commodorely things, and I'll sneak around. You won't even know I'm here."
"Yes, until some frightened young maiden comes to me and says some brigand broke into her home and started taking things."
"Alright, I won't do anything that t'would call attention to m'self. I promise. Now go." Jack waved his hands at James until he left, then made his own, sneaky way into the town.
***
Three days later, as James was walking home from the Fort - not as late as he used to - he saw an old woman outside the gypsy's shop. She turned and looked at him, winked, then disappeared. When he looked around at the few people that were still out, wondering why they didn't react, the wind whistled past him, and an oddly hoarse, yet melodious laugh tickled his ears. People don't often see what they don't want to believe, boy. James smiled and continued on his way.
Title: A Game of Cat and Mouse
Rating: NC-17, for sex
Pairing: Sparrington, what else? :P
Summary: James gets another taste of the supernatural.
Disclaimer: None of this actually happened. I have used and abused the PotC characters, and (not)repented about it. Any mistakes in this are mine own.
Warning: There is sex, so if it's not your cuppa, don't read it. And Cotton's Parrot is Teh Ev0l in this.
Feedback: Yes please!
Thanks: meletor_et_al and aradiria for beta work, and for squeeing at the entire thing. I <33 you!
Commodore James Norrington had a regular routine that he went about every day. He got up every morning at dawn, bathed, shaved, got dressed, had a bit of breakfast, and left for the Fort. He always took the same route, passing by the baker's - on his right - and the gypsy's shop - on his left. His office stayed filled with his presence the entire day, unless, of course, his work that day took him down to the docks, or he had to make a personal visit to some manner of person or another. At the end of the day, he made sure everything on his desk was in order, papers filed in their proper places, then left the Fort for home. His route was the same as the morning, aside from the fact that now the gypsy's shop and baker's were on opposite sides. When he got home, he removed his uniform and replaced it with his shift, climbing onto his bed and under the covers for a good night's rest.
And when he awoke the next morning, he would do it all over again.
The morning James's regular routine flew out the window, he didn't notice anything was amiss right away. His covers felt unusually heavy, and his shift was strangely loose on him, and when he stretched, his muscles rippled in a way he'd never felt before. When he couldn't get out of bed right away, he wondered briefly if he'd had anything to drink the previous night, but shook that thought from his mind. He rarely imbibed alcohol, and even more rarely than that did he get drunk enough to completely forget about it the next day.
So if it wasn't alcohol, what was it? James searched through his memory of the day before, going over everything he did and everywhere he went. There wasn't anything that had happened differently, except... There was that strange woman outside the gypsy's shop. But that hardly merited his immobility this morning. No matter. He would go about his usual routine. Heaviness of limb could hardly keep him away from his duty.
Even as he crawled from beneath the covers, though, he knew something was definitely wrong, as the bed seemed much larger than it should have, and when he got to the side of the bed he slid right off and ripped the top cover clean through as he fell. Amazingly, he landed on his feet, though possibly helped by the fact that his hands were tangled in the cover. He yanked on his arm, yelped as it sent a sharp pain through his fingers.
Frustrated, he kicked his feet at the annoying bit of cloth, and froze as what were definitely not his feet flung out in his line of sight. An innocent bird chirped outside his window, and he hissed - hissed? - at it and pulled back on his arm, whatever holding him releasing and sending him tumbling into his full-length mirror.
Turning slowly so as not to frighten himself out of his skin any more than he already had, James came face to face with a most unusually colored cat. He batted a paw at the image, and watched in horror as it simultaneously did the same thing. All at once, he remembered the woman from the gypsy's shop, and of the conversation they'd had.
She was an old woman, or seemed to be, with grayed hair tied up at the back of her neck, and bangles and jewelry on nearly every inch of her skin. When James passed by her on his way home from the Fort, she stepped in his path and waved a finger at his startled look. "Don't look so startled, boy. S'not like you're not approached by someone ev'ryday," she said in an odd, hoarse voice, seeming quiet yet too loud at the same time.
"I beg your pardon, Madam. It's just that I don't believe I've seen you here before."
"Ah, no, I suppose you haven't. But you weren't really looking then, were you?" Her knowing grin reminded him all too much of someone else he knew.
"I suppose not. I don't know how today could be any different, though." James frowned as her grin widened. "If you'll excuse me, I really should be getting home - "
"You've nothing to do there but sleep, boy. You can spare a few more minutes. Today is different because the cat has sighted the mouse again." At his confused look, she elaborated. "The cat is always chasing the mouse, yet never catches him. He started to believe the mouse may have never been there, but today has changed his mind."
He shook his head. "I don't believe I understand your riddles."
The woman smiled, and for a moment she looked young, and her voice had a melodious ring to it. "You'll understand soon enough, don't you worry. Just keep in mind, though." She gave him a warning look, and suddenly she looked the old woman again. She patted his cheek lightly. "This cat has come to realize he doesn't want to catch the mouse to kill him anymore. Go on home now, James Norrington."
James felt he should be laughing hysterically right about now, and he would be if he didn't feel so lost as to what he should do. He was just about to turn away from the mirror when he noticed one of the reasons for his markings being unusual. Most of his body was a deep blue color, the same as his Commodore's jacket. The top of his head and his ears were a darker shade of blue, while his face and front paws were cream colored. His hind paws were black, and up his hind legs to about halfway, the fur was white, along with his entire neck and all down his front, save for a few areas where the fur was gold. He also had gold along the edge of all the lighter blue, on the tip of his tail, and the tips of his ears. His eyes were the same green they always had been.
Looking at his reflection fully again, he looked like a cat with a built in Commodore uniform. Now he laughed, or as much as he could considering the circumstances.
***
When he didn't find the situation funny anymore, which was almost immediately, he stalked over to his desk, fully intending on leaving a note for his housekeeper, though he wasn't sure yet how he would go about doing that. It seemed someone had already perceived what he would do, as he soon found out when he leapt onto the desk and found a note already there. Probably written by that witch, he thought. It informed his housekeeper that he'd be gone on a much needed holiday, she could go about as she usually did if she wanted to, and that he'd pay her when he returned.
Well, now what? There was a chirping at the window again, and he saw the window was slightly open. Instinctively, he crouched down on the edge of the desk, shifting his feet in preparation before leaping at the window, hitting it with his paws and banging it open, then landing precariously on the edge of the sill. Ungracefully, he slid off and fell into the rose bushes. Really should have thought more before doing that.
After searching himself over to make sure he hadn't been injured, he slunk along the flowerbeds to the path leading into town. He felt a bit silly to be slinking along the path, but then, the whole situation was silly, so he supposed it didn't really matter. He reached the town faster than he usually did otherwise, and he weaved through the bustling legs of the townspeople going about their daily business until he reached the gypsy's shop. He would have gone inside, had it not been for the large oafish man kicking out at him and sending him leaping into some innocent bystander's legs, causing them to twist about and knock someone else over. It soon became pandemonium in the little area, and he felt terribly sorry for feeling the need to escape, but he really was rather terrified of someone squashing him flat.
Quick hands snatched him out of the path of a trampling donkey - and wasn't that a strange feeling - and suddenly he was nose to nose with his mouse. It was rather interesting to look at the man from this perspective, but he didn't have enough time to dwell on it before he was snatched away again, this time by large, clumsy hands, and the man wasn't nearly as pleasant to look at. Or breathe near.
"Here's the culprit to this mess!" James's ears went flat against his head and he hissed, struggling against the grip the man had on him.
"Beg pardon, sir." And there was that familiar hand bow. "I'm terr'bly sorry 'bout all this. 'E's not used to large crowds like this, an' 'e escaped my grasp. T'won't 'appen again, promise." He reached out for James, whom the other man grudgingly handed back over.
"You're right, it won't. Best keep a tight hold on that one." The man grumbled and walked away.
James was once again held nose to nose with Jack Sparrow. "What's this talk of a mess, then, eh?" James's ears went back again, but he didn't hiss, choosing instead to place his paws on the pirate's face and push. He looked over his shoulder and cringed at the dirty looks most everyone threw his way as they picked themselves back up. Meowing piteously, he looked back at Sparrow. "Ah. Best hurry away 'fore they get any ideas in their heads, aye?" Sparrow tucked him under an arm and weaved unsurprisingly to the docks, where a longboat waited patiently.
The pirate's grip on him tightened when he struggled to get away. Sparrow's unwillingness to unhand him earned his browned skin a few scratches, which did nothing but cause the man to shake an admonishing finger under his nose. Seeing as it was so close to his mouth, and it was always logical not to wave anything in front someone's face, James took a bite at the finger, but missed and got a tap on his nose for his troubles. "My, but you're a trouble maker, aren't you?"
James growled and leapt from Sparrow's arms and into the longboat, landing squarely in the middle of one of the benches, where he resolutely planted himself until it was absolutely necessary for him to move.
***
"No no no!" Sparrow flapped his arms and pointed at the blue, furry creature curled up on his bed. "Get off! You'll get your fur all over!"
James yawned, making sure Sparrow could see all his teeth, then rolled and rubbed himself over Sparrow's bed.
The pirate gaped at him for a moment, then leapt towards the bed, which was suddenly empty save for the hundreds of little blue hairs when he landed. "Spiteful little monster! Should've let you get trampled!" Sparrow growled and started sweeping the cat hairs off his bed furiously, throwing glares at the uninterestedly flicking tail on the other side of the cabin.
James grinned and jumped onto a bookshelf, looking at all the books there. It didn't surprise him that the pirate could read, if that was indeed the reason all the books were in the captain's cabin. There was one book in particular that stood out from the rest, in the way it looked uninteresting and a little boring. James stretched up and pulled the book from the shelf, and found it was more of a journal than anything else. There wasn't anything keeping it closed, so when it fell to the ground it opened to a random page halfway through. He jumped down, aware of Jack's suspicious gaze on him, and looked at the page. His name was mentioned a few times in its many different forms, from Commodore to just James. Glancing to the bed, he noticed with a start that Sparrow wasn't there anymore. He looked to his sides, and was just about to turn around when he was picked up and the journal snatched away.
"That's not for your eyes, or anyone else's. You best remember that." Sparrow admonished him, putting the journal on the top of the bookshelf. He carried James over to the table and plopped him onto it, then plopped himself into a chair. "You're a rather unusual breed, you know that? You can read, you're about the size of a panther cub, and your coloring is...well, strange." The man produced a small bottle of rum from his jacket and took a gulp of it.
James raised an eyebrow, or what passed as one, and sat down in front of the pirate. You're strange, you drunkard.
Sparrow sat up and pointed at him. "There! That! You just gave me a Look."
As I'm sure every other species on this planet has when spending time with you.
"There 'tis again!" He pulled his chair closer to the table and looked at James until James looked away. "You remind me of someone. Now that I think about it, you actually look a bit like 'im, too."
Wonderful. I look like a cat when I'm human.
Sparrow laughed. "Well, I've got nothing to call you, so I think it's about time you got a name."
Dear God, don't let him name me something embarrassing like Snuffles or Socks.
"Well, since you remind me so much of 'im, you might as well be named after 'im as well. It's settled then. You'll go by James from now on."
Less addled than I thought. Well done, Sparrow. James batted lightly at the grinning face. Now leave me alone.
***
Eventually, the two came to a compromise on where James would sleep. After James jumped onto the bed for the fifth time, Sparrow took most of the sheets and blankets, folded them into sloppy rectangles, and placed them on the sea chest at the end of the bed. Because of the number of blankets, James's makeshift bed was level with Sparrow's, and looked nearly a part of the bed itself. Even so, the pirate knew this wasn't the reason the cat finally stopped; James was just bored with annoying him right then.
Sparrow gave James a dirty look and flopped onto his bed, yanking his blankets over himself. He stretched his feet out and moved them around, grinning when one of them came in contact with a furry side. A growl was his response and he snickered into his pillow, but stopped when he inhaled cat hair. Spluttering, he sat up and glared at James, who was looking back at him with a smug look. "Bloody creature.." Sparrow grumbled as he fell back against his pillows, a cloud of blue hair floating up. He decided sleeping on his back would be safest at the moment.
At some point in the middle of the night, a foot collided with James's side again. Sparrow, retract your foot, or I will remove it. When his growling had no effect whatsoever and the foot came at him again, James jumped out of the way, then saw what the problem was. It appeared Sparrow was asleep, but wasn't enjoying it very much. Well, neither was James.
He crept closer to the restless man until he was right next to his face. He poked a paw at a warm cheek. Sparrow. Captain? Jack Sparrow! Captain Jack Sparrow! Captain Jack! Captain Sparrow! James sighed and jumped lightly onto Sparrow's chest and started kneading. The pirate calmed, still asleep, then rolled to his side. James slid to the mattress, tucked between a steady heart beat and a curled arm. He stayed there, blaming the action on tiredness, and fell asleep wrapped around a brown arm.
***
The next afternoon, Sparrow walked into his cabin to find James splashing about in a small water basin. Upon closer inspection, he saw James had knocked a bar of soap into it, and was attempting to wash himself. Or eat the soap.
Sparrow snickered, and James huffed at him. Are you just going to stand there, or help me out? The pirate snickered again, then came over and picked up the bar of soap, which James immediately started to rub himself against. Sparrow helped him a bit with his tail and hind legs, then rinsed him, laughing out right when James leapt dripping out of the basin to track little paw prints across the decking.
James eyed the bed with a mischievous glint, but was caught around the middle and pulled back before he could do anything. A soft cloth was thrown over him and rubbed over his fur, drying him off. Sparrow's fingers stroked along his back, and he slunk away from the touch, keeping his body as low to the deck as he could to get away from the invading fingers. It wasn't that he didn't like to be touched. He supposed that was the problem; he liked the pirate touching him all too much. Probably just the whole cat factor, that was all.
"Well, since I am no longer needed in here..." Sparrow stood, snatched a bottle of rum from beside the bed, and started towards the door. When he felt a slight brush against his leg he looked down into questioning green eyes. "I've never known a cat to be inquiring as to what it can do."
Normally, I wouldn't, but...well, it is your ship. James's tail batted against Sparrow's leg again, impatient.
"Just be careful of Cotton's parrot. 'E’s displeased with your presence, though no one's quite sure why. The parrot, not Cotton." Permission granted, James trotted off halfway through the pirate's rambling.
***
Perhaps I should have stayed in the cabin.. James thought as a sudden loud clicking started from around the corner. He hunkered down, leaning to the left a bit as if that would help him to see who, or what, was coming before it saw him. A loud squawk made him curl into himself, his ears fly back, and his eyes squinch shut. When he tentatively opened them again, he found he was face to face with the largest bird he'd ever seen. It squawked again, then lashed out with its small talons, nearly catching James in the face before he scrambled back.
He hissed and retaliated, just catching an outstretched wing before the huge bird advanced on him, hitting him squarely in the chest with the top of its head and knocking him over. James didn't have enough time to roll away before the bird - which he now assumed to be Cotton's parrot - pounced atop his stomach and started pecking and tearing wherever it could reach, continuously screeching, "Show yer true colors!" Any attempts to dislodge the hostile creature were thwarted by it latching onto James.
Yowling as long and hard as he could while keeping the bird from pecking his eyes out, James hoped someone would stop by and take pity on him soon.
At the same moment James ended the thought, someone was there and was batting Cotton's parrot away from him. Before they could pick him up, he took off for the captain's cabin faster than anyone could say 'mainmast'.
When the captain entered the cabin, James was curled up in the corner farthest from the door. He huddled closer about himself when Jack approached him cautiously, recent events making him realize just how very small he was. He would have scratched Jack if he weren't in the condition he was, but seeing as he was, he really didn't want to cause himself any more pain than what he was already in. Only a small noise left him when he was gently lifted and placed just as gently on one of the pirate's pillows, and his limbs pulled away from his belly.
He panicked when Jack - and this was the third time he'd referred to the pirate as such. It was only fair to be on first name basis with the man, though; this was the second time he'd saved James from a gruesome, bloody end - started to clean the wounds, and attacked the hand, kicking and biting weakly at it. He knew he wasn't causing any damage; his claws weren't extended, and he was really only just clinging to the warm hand. He looked up at Jack miserably.
"Let go, James," Jack said softly but firmly, resuming his cleaning when James released him and went limp. He would have thought James dead were it not for the barely perceptible rising and falling of his chest, or the very faint purring that started when Jack stroked a finger along the uninjured ear. Jack smiled and curled around the cat-covered pillow on the bed.
...This doesn't mean I like you..
***
James was still purring the next morning. He wasn't quite sure how to turn it off. A few times he'd managed to stop, but it always started up again when Jack would touch him. He knew the pirate soon figured that out himself, because he was constantly running a finger or a hand over James's head and back, sometimes even under his chin. And when Gibbs had noticed James's constant purring, Jack only grinned in response to the older man saying, "I think yer feline's broken."
He made sure to stick close to Jack for fear of being caught alone with Cotton's Parrot again. The situation had been properly taken care of, but the feathered creature kept giving him looks. That bird knew. And it'd told Cotton, James was sure of it. Why else would the mute give him the same knowing look the bird did, minus the hostility?
In a matter of a few hours, James had mastered the art of balancing on Jack's shoulder, and once he had, he made sure he was there more often than not. It was a bit terrifying to be so high off the ground, but the point of view was so close to being normal that he didn't worry about that issue. He's also managed to figure out how to dig his claws into Jack's clothes only, and not his skin, for which Jack was constantly thanking him.
It wasn't until after the first raid since James came aboard that he noticed something had changed. Of course, there was the matter of his opinion of the pirate drastically altered, and he didn't shrink away from Jack's touches. Instead of more often than not, he was always seen perched on Jack's shoulder. Instead of just letting Jack touch him or scratch him behind the ears, or stroke his back, he would seek out the touches now. His furry little head would bump against Jack's hand, demanding attention. His long lean body would rub against the pirate's legs when he wasn't atop a swaying shoulder, and when atop said swaying shoulder, his face was always pressed up to Jack's. Jack was extremely delighted by the attention James was bestowing upon him, and James felt likewise with Jack.
But he was confused.
Not only was he more comfortable with Jack than he'd ever been with anyone save for his mother, but he'd begun to...feel things, towards the pirate. Things he'd felt faintly towards Mrs. Turner, when she was still Miss Swann, things he'd never thought he could feel towards another man. He may have been turned into a cat by a mad old gypsy, but he was still a man on the inside.
Jack's ramblings in the cabin didn't help matters any. The pirate had begun to talk about James - or, James as the Commodore. He talked about every feature, every facial expression, the way James's eyes changed color without a moment's notice. The first time Jack had talked about him, he'd distracted the man by batting at the trinkets in his hair. After that, it had taken James longer and longer to distract Jack, before he just stopped altogether.
He began to realize that he noticed everything about Jack that Jack noticed about him. The features, the expressions, the eye color changes. He'd started sleeping curled on or beside Jack ever since the Parrot Incident. Eventually, he'd figured out how to control his purring contraption, but had a bit of difficulty with it when Jack scratched a particularly hard to reach spot on his back, and it went completely haywire when Jack would give him a massage.
He'd discovered one late night when Jack was poking and prodding at him that, even as a cat, his stomach was extremely ticklish. He'd squirmed and wriggled and tried to get away, but it was next to impossible to stop Jack from pursuing something interesting. He'd gotten a paw in the eye for that.
James wished he could speak. Or at least that Jack could understand him fully. If he could just talk to the man, maybe he could sort out what he was feeling. Or maybe not. Jack's constant stream of words seemed hardly coherent. But he supposed they didn't have to. Just to get them all out there put them into perspective. James huffed in frustration and flicked his tail irritably at Jack's fidgeting fingers.
If he only knew how to break the curse. Perhaps a confession of some sort would do the trick. Oh, yes. That would work perfectly. 'Jack, the Commodore has heard everything you've said, and he's not all that disturbed by it.' Maybe talking about his feelings would work. It seemed to work with Jack. James crawled up the man's chest and stopped just short of his face. He reached a paw out and touched it to Jack's lips. Shut up, pirate. It's my turn to talk.
Jack obediently kept quiet. Satisfied, James started. Lately, I've begun to be effected by you. By your touch, the way you look when you talk about me. If I weren't feline right now - Oh, for the love of - you can't even understand me, what's the point. James growled and paced across the bed. This is all your fault, you know that? You could have sailed into a different port, and I never would have met you, and therefore wouldn't be a cat right now. But then I wouldn't have met you, which due to recent discovery doesn't sound so appealing anymore, despite what I may have said - Don't touch me when I'm angry with you!
James hissed and lashed out at Jack with claws extended, just catching a tan finger before the hand was snatched back. "Right. I'll leave you alone then." Jack looked at the sulking James for another moment before leaving the cabin, the door not closing all the way behind him.
Flopping down, the anger and frustration suddenly drained from him, James sighed, then chuckled to himself. Thinking over how they'd acted and the look Jack had given him, it was almost as if James were human and he'd had a silly argument with his lover. Except that James wasn't human, and they weren't lovers, but the sentiment was the same. He sighed again and rolled to his side for a catnap.
***
When the cabin door opened a few hours later, James woke up and looked at the door, expecting to see Jack. Until he heard the clicking. Oh, leave me alone. He shut his eyes again and tried not to draw the bird's attention to himself. It didn't seem to matter what he did, though, because a moment later there was a fluttering and then a soft thump on the bed.
He warily opened his eyes and eyed the bird slowly coming closer to him. When it squawked, much the same as it had when it attacked him, James leapt from the bed and shot out of the cabin as fast as his little legs could carry him, running in blind panic towards the helm, where he knew Jack would be. Without pause, he scrambled up the pirate's leg and torso to his shoulder, where he proceeded to bury his face under the man's chin and hide his body in the wild, black hair as the parrot flew from the cabin after him.
"COTTON! What 'ave I said about that bird? Restrain it, or I will rip its wings off and toss it to the sharks!" James stayed exactly where he was until the squawking faded to the point that he couldn't hear it anymore, then peeked over Jack's far shoulder, just to make sure. When he was positive that the bird was no where in sight, he bumped his face repeatedly against Jack's cheek in thanks, his little heart still pounding rapidly against his ribs.
"I take it I've been forgiven for earlier?" Jack ran his fingers down James's tail, grinning when it flicked playfully against his wrist.
There's nothing to forgive, Jack. It was my fault. James wrapped himself around Jack's neck and purred loudly to get his point across. Jack laughed, the vibration from his throat to James's side causing him to meow happily and press closer.
He clung to Jack's shoulder the rest of the day, shifting himself around to make Jack's tasks easier, then moving back into place when he was done. The only times he had to tighten his hold was when they passed by Cotton with his parrot. The mute pirate would always glance at him apologetically, one hand raising to distract the bird from any ideas it might take into its feathered head.
When they finally returned to the cabin for the night, James was just draped over Jack's shoulder, his front half hanging down the man's chest, his other half hanging down a shoulder blade. He slid onto the bed when Jack sat on it to remove his boots, yawned and stretched and waited for Jack to get settled in the bed. Tiredly, he clambered onto Jack's chest, then leaned forward to touch his nose lightly to the pirate's before dropping his head and curling up. A soft purr started up as his tail brushed over Jack's heart, his sleep fuzzy mind murmuring exhaustedly as he fell asleep. Love you, Jack.
***
James awoke the next morning to fingers stroking lightly over his face. He blinked his eyes open slowly, then squinted when everything was distorted. He raised his paws to his eyes and rubbed them, then pulled his paws quickly away again when he didn't feel any fur on them.
When his vision cleared, he looked at his hands, for that was the only thing they could be if there wasn't any fur on them. Sure enough, he had perfectly normal, long-fingered, non-furry human hands. With a few more scars than there had been the last time he'd seen them.
Overcome with excitement, he flung the blankets aside and stared down at his pale, naked body. He noticed the fresh scars spanning from his hands to his feet, and touching the ones he could reach proved them to still be tender. When he finally satisfied himself in looking over his body, he looked at the shocked man next to him.
The pirate stared at him for a moment, his jaw moving but no sound coming out. "..James?" James nodded. Jack came to within an inch of James's face and looked at him with narrowed eyes. James found it hard not to lean forward. The pirate's eyes widened and he pulled away slightly. "And you...you've been here..as..?"
James nodded again, smiling, and cleared his throat. "Here the whole time, yes, as a cat." It felt strange to actually say words after so long without.
"Now, wait a moment. You've been 'ere an entire month. As a cat. And you couldn't 'ave told me somehow?"
James's smiled slipped and he blushed. "Well, I...hadn't thought of that, actually."
"Yes, too busy cuddling up to me."
"Last I heard, you didn't sound like you would have minded all that much."
An awkward silence followed. "So..you 'eard everything?"
"Jack, I was a cat, not deaf."
"Is that the only reason why you were being so friendly?"
James blushed again. "No," he said quietly, feeling shy and exposed. He reached for the blankets he so thoughtlessly threw aside, and started to pull them back across his lap when a brown hand grasped his wrist. He looked up at Jack.
"James. Why did you change back?"
He looked at Jack for a moment, reversing the hold Jack had on him, and pulling Jack's hand towards him to place it on his chest. "I finally saw you."
Jack crawled forward and draped himself over James. "You didn't see me before?" He grinned cheekily.
James rolled his eyes. "I saw you, you insufferable pirate. Just not in the way I was supposed to."
"And how much does 'that way' include?" Jack folded his hands over James's chest and rested his chin on them.
James pulled Jack closer and spoke into his ear, his lips brushing against it. "That includes being completely enamored with a certain pirate captain... and being utterly debauched by him."
Jack shuddered against him. His interest was definitely piqued, as it was poking at James's naked hip. "And, ah..when can the debauching part begin?"
James stretched beneath the pirate, putting himself on display. The other man's eyes roved over his skin hungrily, a fidgety-fingered hand reaching out, hesitating for a moment, then resting on the pale stomach, the scars a slightly darker shade. His fingers traced over the little ridges delicately, looking up at the sharp intake of breath. James's mouth hung open and his eyes were closed tightly, as if the touch brought pleasure-filled pain.
"James." Green eyes opened, revealing vertically slit irises that were nearly thin black lines. Jack's breath caught in his throat. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," James answered breathlessly, gasping when Jack's thumbs brushed over the tingling scars. A single experimental finger stroked firmly over a scar that was dangerously low under his gut, and he growled and yanked Jack's face to his, kissing him desperately as his long legs wrapped tightly about the pirate's waist. "Jack. Make love to me now."
Jack didn't feel particularly inclined to move, until a sharp nip to his bottom lip made him pull away. His breath caught again at the tousled hair, the flushed skin, the look in James's still-slitted eyes, and he stole another kiss before stretching towards the little table next to the bed, the legs around him loosening slightly to make the reach easier. He thumped open the single drawer and rooted around, pausing a few times in his search as James rubbed distractingly against him.
"Tease." He glared half-heartedly at the man beneath him when he returned with a small clay pot, but the glare melted away when James's eyes darkened with desire. Unable to resist, Jack leaned forward and kissed James again, licking slowly at the red lips as his fingers fumbled at the waistband of the trousers he still wore. His wiggling made James moan softly, so when he kicked the trousers from his ankles to the floor, he did it again, more slowly.
"Jack," came a warning growl, and Jack laughed into James's neck, reaching for the pot he'd set down. Removing the lid, he dipped two fingers in, thoroughly coating them in oil before pulling them back out. He tipped his head to James's collarbone and successfully distracted him by sucking on a scar, while his glistening fingers traveled down. When they reached James's erection they paused for a few moments, stroking slickly over the rigid flesh before continuing on their path.
When the first finger slid into him, James's head tilted back and his hands grasped at the blankets under him. He moved his hips in a slow undulation, his breathing increasing as Jack moved with him. His breath left him in a rush when Jack's finger skimmed something inside him, his hips bucking and his scars sparking. "Ah! Jack..more."
Another finger joined the first and they both twisted, causing James to all but throw himself against Jack. The pirate worked his fingers in and out slowly, despite James's attempts at quickening the pace. "Jack," James gasped as Jack twisted his fingers again. "Jack, please.."
"Please what, love?" Jack grinned as he plunged his fingers in deep, enjoying what James was showing him tremendously.
"Please. I need you inside me." James could hardly get the words out for all the gasps and whimpers breaking them apart.
"Ah, the magic words." Jack pulled his fingers gently from James, grabbed the pot again and slathered a generous amount of the oil over his erection. He grasped James's hips and positioned himself, catching James's eyes and holding the gaze as he pushed slowly in. His hands sought out the other man's, linking their fingers together and bringing their hands up next to his head, while his hips rocked forward and sent him further in to James.
They settled into a slow rhythm, James mumbling incoherently with each glide in, his fingers kneading Jack's hands. Jack fitted his face right alongside James's, hearing the harsh panting and feeling the restless writhing of his lover. He took pity on him and turned his head to murmur in a sweaty ear. "James." He squeezed James's hands and was rewarded with a breathless moan. "Come for me, love."
James moaned again and his entire body clenched around Jack's, liquid heat spilling over his stomach, his back arching. He went boneless, his legs falling to the bed, his limp body still moving with Jack's last few thrusts into him. Jack tensed and murmured his name, lurching forward with the force of his orgasm. His arms gave out and he collapsed on top of James, breathing heavily against the pale skin.
"Jack."
"Hmm?" The pirate kissed James's chin and sighed contentedly. He slid his hands down and placed them on James's hips, steadying himself as he pulled out slowly, thrilling at the small noise James made.
"Nothing." Jack grinned at the blissful look on James's face and wrapped around the sprawled man, using one of the blankets they weren't laying on to clean the mess from James's stomach. Curiously, he ran his fingers over the scars. A shudder coursed throughout the man and he stretched, pressing against Jack. "I love you, Jack," James whispered, cupping Jack's cheek and pulling him close, kissed him softly.
Jack beamed at him and rubbed their noses together, returning the kiss. "Love you too, James."
***
Jack scowled at the growing chunk of land that was Port Royal, tempted to spin the wheel in the opposite direction. He'd just gotten James, and now he had to give him back.
"Jack, stop looking like that." Pale arms wrapped around his waist and a chin hooked over his shoulder. "You can come see me again in a week. I just have to get settled again and assure the people that I'm not abandoning them."
"Bloody honorable Commodore.." Jack grumbled, leaning away when James tried to kiss his neck in apology.
James bit his shoulder instead, his irises flashing vertical for a moment, long enough for Jack to see. "Whenever you do come in, make sure you're not seen by anyone, aside from the Turners. There isn't much I can do for you if you're caught."
"You really ought to stop doing that, else people will think you're cursed and won't want you as their Commodore. Actually, do it as often as you can, preferably around easily offended people." He got a pinch on the side for his cheek. "Alright. You go and get yourself settled, and I'll come visit you again in a couple days."
"Thank you."
A sudden loud squawk drew their attention to their feet, where Cotton's parrot was staring up at them with narrowed eyes. The now-small bird stepped towards James and delivered a swift peck to his foot before hopping away. It squawked again, indignantly this time, as Jack flailed his hands at the bird, nearly smacking it. The parrot returned to its owner.
"That bird doesn't like me very much." Jack only chuckled.
James stayed glued to Jack the rest of the way to Port Royal, and only let go long enough for them to climb into one of the longboats and be lowered to the sea, where Jack rowed them to shore, well out of sight of the Fort. When Jack got out of the boat with him, he gawked. "Jack, what are you doing?"
"I'm coming with you. Now, don't start lecturing me. T'would be pointless to sail away, only to come back within two days. I'll stay with the young'uns. Hush. You go do your Commodorely things, and I'll sneak around. You won't even know I'm here."
"Yes, until some frightened young maiden comes to me and says some brigand broke into her home and started taking things."
"Alright, I won't do anything that t'would call attention to m'self. I promise. Now go." Jack waved his hands at James until he left, then made his own, sneaky way into the town.
***
Three days later, as James was walking home from the Fort - not as late as he used to - he saw an old woman outside the gypsy's shop. She turned and looked at him, winked, then disappeared. When he looked around at the few people that were still out, wondering why they didn't react, the wind whistled past him, and an oddly hoarse, yet melodious laugh tickled his ears. People don't often see what they don't want to believe, boy. James smiled and continued on his way.