Fanfic
Title: Lust (Prompt 4)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Speckett
Word Count: About 1500
Summary: One-shots dealing with Jack and Beckett's early relationship using the prompts at
50_smutlets
Warnings: Slash, Sex, Language, etc.--they are smutlets after all!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to the Mouse
A/N: So I've belatedly decided to title this collection of pieces "Metamorphosis." This is piece 4 of 20 (so I'm obviously not going to use all 50 prompts...).
Previous Chapters: 1. Day ; 2. Night ; 3. Gentle
004.-Lust
It had been with the utmost calculation and design that Jack had invited himself into the younger Beckett’s cabin on that still, hot day the week previous. No stranger to desire, Jack had recognized the hungry look on the boy’s face, had seen the ill-disguised lust in those wide, seemingly innocent eyes.
Jack had had his share of whores, ladies, boys and gents alike-he was not one to be discriminating when it came to the art of love. He relished the pleasure that could be found in another warm body, and was not overly discerning as to the nature of said coupling, as long as it was passionate and plentiful.
Being the sage that he was, it was not difficult for him to recognize the great longing that the boy felt, and he could appreciate the quandary that the boy found himself in. Jack felt he had been doing him a kindness by boldly planting himself in the cabin and making the first move. The boy, unsurprisingly, had been quite receptive to Jack’s seduction, and Jack himself was not left wanting. In fact, as he stood on the helm, absentmindedly letting his fingers graze the worn wood spokes of the Wench’s wheel, he found his thoughts wander back to the boy. It had been better than he had expected. It would have been easy for Jack to have been annoyed and off-put by the inexperience of the young noble, but what Cutler had lacked in skill and knowledge, he more than made up for in passion and enthusiasm. In the few days since that first encounter, he found the boy to be practically insatiable, and Jack was never one to disappoint.
“You there, Captain Sparrow!” Beckett’s imperious voice rang out across the deck and broke through Jack’s silent contemplation. Many eyes surreptitiously glanced at the man, and then seemed to flick in unison up to the helm where Jack was standing, his hand lazily draped across the great wheel. Jack gazed down at the little lord-to-be and fought to contain a smirk. Needy little whelp, he thought.
“Aye, Master Beckett?” he called back, leisurely strolling up to the balustrade. Jack’s eyes sparkled as he leaned his lanky frame against the railing.
“I have an important matter to discuss with you, Captain.” Beckett’s voice was firm, and left no room for argument.
“Can it wait, Master Beckett? I am otherwise engaged at the moment, as it were.” Jack gestured vaguely at the wheel of the ship, his hands making an elaborate flourish.
Even from across the deck, Jack saw the annoyed twitch of Cutler’s hands as he tugged at his waistcoat. “It most certainly cannot, Captain Sparrow! I’ll be in my cabin. I will expect you immediately, sir.” Jack’s dark eyes followed the boy as he turned neatly on his heel and strode back to his cabin, his high boots pounding out an irritated staccato on the worn planks.
Jack was keenly aware of the roving eyes and whispers of his crew-they all seemed curious as to what their Captain had done to so upset the Chairman’s son.
“Back to work, all of you, you nosy wretches!” Jack ordered as he relinquished the wheel to another sailor.
A soft tap on Beckett’s door announced his arrival. “Captain Sparrow, as ordered.”
He heard a muffled “Enter,” so he stepped inside, firmly shutting the door behind himself. Immediately, he felt arms encircle him and pull him closer, felt needy lips seek his own.
“Urgent matter?” Jack mumbled against Cutler’s plump pout, receiving a bite in response. Jack pushed him firmly away, holding him at arm’s length. Jack could see the lust and desperation burning in the younger man’s eyes.
“You shouldn’t impugn me like that in front of me crew, Cutler,” he said firmly, trying to keep his voice stern and ignore the hot throbbing in his loins.
“And you shouldn’t question me when I give you an order,” Cutler retorted as he straightened his shoulders and fixed Jack with an icy stare.
“Fine then, Master Beckett, what do you order?” Jack asked, mimicking Cutler’s erect stance.
Jack saw a flash of white as Cutler’s lips parted into a quick, rare smile. “No orders here, Jack,” Cutler said softly as he pushed Jack’s overcoat off of his shoulders. The heavy canvas fell to the floor with a bit of a thud. “You know what I want.”
“Do I? And what’s that?” Jack couldn’t help but press the boy-he did so enjoy the pink flush that resulted on that lily-white skin when there was a forced admission.
“You,” Cutler mumbled sheepishly, trailing his fingers over the tarnished buttons of Jack’s waistcoat. As Jack had hoped, a faint blush spread across Cutler’s cheeks at his own earnestness. Jack took a step forward, closing the short distance between them, so that his body was mere inches from Cutler’s. He dipped his head down and let his lips brush against the tender flesh just below Cutler’s ear.
“Do you lust after me, boy?” Jack growled, his voice husky. Cutler shivered-Jack was so close that he could feel his lips graze his skin with each word, could feel the rough tickle of the stubble around Jack’s mouth.
“Yes,” was the whispered reply, accompanied by a tentative hand reaching forward and rubbing at the hardness between Jack’s legs through the thin material of his breeches.
“Then show me,” Jack commanded with a firm, guiding push on Cutler’s shoulders. He saw the grey eyes widen momentarily before the boy dropped to his knees before the sailor, eagerly unlacing the ties of Jack’s breeches.
Jack groaned as he felt the hot, wet seal of Cutler’s mouth form around the tip of his cock. The boy’s technique was nonexistent, clumsy even, but he licked and sucked on Jack’s member with all the excitement incident to childish lust.
As Cutler’s tongue flicked around the sensitive skin at the tip of Jack’s cock, Jack tangled his fingers in the boy’s dark hair, using it as leverage to fuck the cherubic mouth, shoving himself deep inside the warm, welcoming depths, relishing each time the grey eyes would bulge slightly as the boy stared up at him. When he was close to culmination, he pushed the boy away with a strangled cry.
Cutler was momentarily confused, afraid he had committed some grievous error, until he felt the rough hands pulling him to his feet and ripping at his clothes. He found himself quickly bent over the small desk, felt Jack’s hands slide between the globes of his buttocks, rubbing his tight opening with oil. Cutler let out a small moan at the touch of the sailor’s fingers. Jack obligingly massaged him for a moment before lightly tickling the delicately puckered flesh. Cutler squirmed and panted until a finger slid inside of him. He caught his lower lip between his teeth in excitement and anticipation.
“Is that what you want?” Jack taunted as he slid his finger in and out of the boy, his other hand pressing firmly on Cutler’s shoulder, keeping him pinned down over the desk. Cutler shook his head and promptly received another finger. Cutler moaned and pressed back against the sailor. Jack sucked and bit at the boy’s neck, listening to the hitch in Cutler’s breathing, the little whimpers of pleasure. “Tell me…tell me what you want.” Jack’s voice was less demanding than before, but it still held a note of tender persuasion. Even though Cutler couldn’t see his face, he knew that the corner of Jack’s mouth was curled into a smile-he could hear it in his voice.
“I want…it…inside me.” Cutler emphasized his request by pushing his arse back against Jack, almost wriggling it as he tilted his hips in what he hoped to be an inviting enough gesture.
Jack slowly withdrew his fingers and caressed the smooth, pale skin of one buttock. Taking his own cock in his hand, he ran his hardness between the cheeks, eliciting a throaty moan from the eager boy. He held the tip against Cutler’s entrance, pulling back slightly as the boy tried to push himself onto it. “Say it, Cutler.”
Cutler glanced back over his shoulder, his brow furrowed. The usually silvery eyes were dark with lust. “Jack…” There was a note of annoyance in the voice, but mostly it was pleading. Jack grinned mercilessly at him, using the tip of his manhood to trace small circles around the edge of the opening. “If you want it so badly, you can say it.”
The eyes narrowed briefly, but stayed locked with Jack’s gaze. “Your cock. Fuck me with your cock.” Jack loved hearing the filthy words tumble from the angelic lips, the educated inflection of Cutler’s voice, the perfect pronunciation of the commonest type of speech.
With a satisfied smirk, Jack shoved himself deep inside of the boy, slaking their lust with hard, rapid thrusts that caused Cutler to grip the desk with white-knuckled hands and pant and mew.
“Fuck me, Jack,” Cutler gasped.
“That’s an order I’ll be more than willing to oblige, Master Beckett.”