Fanfic--Metamorphosis (6/20)
Title: Beach (Prompt 7)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Speckett
Word Count: About 2100
Summary: One-shots dealing with Jack and Beckett's early relationship using the prompts at 50_smutlets .
Warnings: Slash, Sex, mild language
Disclaimer: Characters belong to the Mouse!
A/N: I've belatedly titled this collection of pieces "Metamorphosis." This is piece 6 of 20.
Previous Chapters: 1. Day ; 2. Night ; 3. Gentle ; 4. Lust ; 5. Touch
007.--Beach
The sand crunched softly beneath meticulously polished high boots as Cutler slowly paced down the deserted strip of beach, staring out at the moonlit waters of the Mediterranean. The gentle crash of the waves licking at the ivory sand of the coastline of the island almost drowned out the faint sounds of laughter and music that wafted on the breeze-the din of the celebrations and revelry he had left behind for the calming silence of the beach.
Cutler’s eyes swept along the coastline, absorbing the view of the Mahon harbor-he had never been to Minorca before. The name had sounded so exotic to him when his father had told him that it would be his port of call, but standing here on the beach, he thought it seemed more like a proper British colony than any of the faraway, foreign lands that Jack spoke so fondly of.
Jack.
Cutler inadvertently scrunched up his face at the very thought of the sailor’s name.
Earlier, he had made his hasty retreat from the local tavern when he had seen the sailor sitting by himself in the back, his dark eyes staring out over a tarnished mug. Cutler had wanted nothing more than to go sit by the man, share the same smiles and laughs that they shared in the privacy of a cabin, but he knew that he could not. That simple knowledge, combined with the fact that this would most likely be the last time he would see his Captain, prevented him from lingering any longer. He had made weak excuses, ignoring the whispers that the Chairman’s son was an unsociable git, a prat, a pompous arse, and that a touch of frivolity might do the smug little bastard some good. Cutler sniffed at the insults spoken just loud enough that he could hear-under different circumstances, he would have most likely demanded retribution for such calumny, but tonight his soul was troubled with more serious matters than slander. He escaped to the solitary moonlit serenity of the deserted strip of sand.
A stranger observing would have thought that the lone figure was no more than a boy, foolishly staring up at the moon. But, the slowly approaching man knew much different. The few clouds suddenly parted, the moonlight illuminated the seraphic profile and making the eyes shine silver. The man stopped in his tracks, inhaling sharply at the scene, wanting to store it in his mind for all time. Words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them. “You’re beautiful.”
Cutler gasped and whirled upon the intruder, his hands flailing wildly for a sword that wasn’t there. He heard a chuckle from the darkness and immediately felt blood pool into his cheeks. “Bloody hell, Jack,” he hissed, still feeling his heart pounding erratically in his chest.
Jack closed the distance between them with a few of his long, loping strides. Cutler could now see the grin on the sailor’s face, the pleased sparkle in his eye. “Who’d you think it was, Cutty? Some drunken local with mischief on his mind?”
“No…It…I…Well, I don’t know what I thought,” Cutler stuttered. Collecting himself with an irritated jerk on his waistcoat, he looked pointedly at Jack. “But I knew it was an unwelcome invader on my privacy.”
Unruffled, Jack crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Still unwelcome?
Cutler sniffed and turned from him, continuing his amble up the beach. “No.”
Jack’s grin grew wider and he fell into step beside the boy, having to measure his steps so he could keep pace-his legs and stride were much longer than the diminutive noble’s, and he had to make a marked effort to not leave the boy behind. Not that he would ever admit such to Cutler-the imperious boy seemed absolutely oblivious to such things, and it was one of the traits that Jack adored about him.
“What brings you out here?” Cutler asked, his voice almost stiffly formal.
“I followed you,” Jack replied plainly.
Cutler paused, flicking his gaze up to the sailor. He found dark eyes staring back. “Oh.” Cutler realized the lameness of his response, but he was not able to muster anything else.
“I couldn’t imagine why anyone would dash out so quickly on such plentiful spirits and pleasurable company,” Jack kept on, his voice serious, but his eyes twinkling. “An entire roomful of ladies of questionable virtue were willing to engage in the most depraved acts for a pittance. And that buxom blonde had a mouth that-”
“Oh, now really, Jack!” Cutler interjected, gesturing wildly with one hand in the general direction of the tavern. “I saw you in there and you didn’t seem to be enjoying yourself any more than I was!”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Cutler bit his bottom lip. All of Jack’s teeth were gleaming down at him in an almost feral grin. “So you were watching me, then?”
“You followed me.” Cutler’s accusation was more of an admission than anything else he could have said.
“Aye, that I did, Cutty, my love.” Jack seized Cutler’s hand and pulled him down the strip of beach at a trippingly fast pace. Cutler did not attempt to pull away, but gasped Jack’s name in astonishment, his voice swept away in the breeze.
After a short distance, Cutler lost his balance and tumbled, gasping as he fell to the soft sand. He turned quickly to face the sailor who still stood, silhouetted by the moonlight. A small copse of trees served the dual purpose of providing shelter from any prying eyes and casting the man in shadow-Cutler couldn’t see Jack’s face at all, only the outline of his tall frame, but it was enough. He felt the hot throbbing that so readily came whenever he gazed at the sailor.
“You alright?” Jack asked, somehow managing not to laugh at the boy’s artless tumble.
“I don’t know if I can stand,” Cutler whispered, hoping he contained the tremor of excitement in his voice. His ruse worked-concerned, Jack immediately crouched, his hands darting out to the boy, probing for some wound. Hearing Cutler’s breathy pant at his touch, Jack quickly realized that there was nothing wrong with the boy that a fevered release couldn’t remedy.
“Conniving git,” Jack drawled as he roughly pushed the boy’s coat from his shoulders. Cutler leaned forward and caught Jack’s lower lip between his teeth, nipping softly, then sucking away the hurt.
After a furtive glance down the deserted strip of land, Cutler’s hand sought the lacings of Jack’s breeches with an intent desperation. He needed the sailor, needed to feel the raw vitality of the man pressed inside of him, to feel the resultant warmth he received from the sailor’s touch. Jack was a bit surprised by Cutler’s insistent fingers, but welcomed them with a small, appreciative moan.
“Easy, boy, easy!” Jack panted into Cutler’s ear as the long fingers coiled around Jack’s cock, squeezing hard. Cutler pressed on as if he hadn’t heard, pumping emphatically at the length of Jack’s cock and sucking just as forcefully on the flesh of his neck. “Good God, Cutty,” Jack groaned as he firmly pushed the boy away.
Cutler looked lost as he stood there, his hands hanging limply by his sides, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “What?” he asked, his voice sounding more desperate than he intended.
“Easy on me goods! You keep that up and I’ll spill in my pants, and I think that would be quite a waste when that fine arse of yours is right there…”
“Well, then, get on with it!” Cutler’s voice was clipped as he hastily pulled down his breeches and pulled Jack close to his body, moaning when the hot flesh of Jack’s bare thighs met his own. Jack grasped his shoulders firmly and held him back at arm’s length, causing a small, strangled cry of frustration to fall from Cutler’s lips.
“What’s gotten into you?” Jack demanded.
“I didn’t even think I was going to get say good-bye…” Cutler blurted out, his voice trembling. He bit his bottom lip hard, and tried to ignore Jack’s suddenly furrowed brow. “Oh, never mind!” he snapped, the silver eyes narrowing and darkening.
Jack took the boy’s face firmly in his hands, his rough thumbs gently tracing the soft lines of his jaw before caressing the blushing pout of his lips. “Wouldn’t have thought of leaving without saying good bye, Cutler,” he said seriously before pulling the boy close to him. Cutler felt his heart pounding in his ears, felt light-headed as the sailor’s mouth found his own, the warm, wet tongue exploring the depths of his mouth. The day’s worth of stubble on Jack’s face felt rough and abrasive against Cutler’s own smooth skin, but he didn’t mind. Cutler just needed to feel the sailor, from the taut, tanned skin sliding beneath his fingers, to the whispering tickle of tangled hair brushing against his own flesh. He needed to feel that reckless and wild abandon one last time, even though he didn’t want to ever let go.
Every step of the now familiar routine felt novel again to Cutler-the cold oil that was quickly warmed by his own body and Jack’s attentive, probing fingers; the long caresses; the breathless kisses; the crowning moment when his body was slowly filled with hot, needy proud flesh.
Cutler’s entire body trembled as Jack slowly rode him, one hand gently ruffling his hair, caressing his neck and shoulders, the other stroking his cock. The sand bit into his knees, the fine grit providing the sharp distraction he needed to keep himself from gasping out further endearment that he would later regret. He tried to focus on every sensation, every touch, but soon became too overwhelmed; he panted and mewled beneath the sailor until Jack was forced to slide a hand over his mouth and whisper a soft admonishment in his ear. Cutler sucked hard on the offending hand, but soon found himself to be grateful for it, as the thrusting and pumping became too much and he found his release, moaning loudly into the rough, calloused flesh as he spurted forth hot pearls onto the white sand. He clenched his eyes shut and shuttered as he felt Jack’s body find its own release, felt the weight of Jack as he collapsed breathlessly on top of him.
For a few long moments, neither of them moved. Jack stayed inside the boy until his softness forced him to slowly move away, leaning back on the sand and staring up into the rustling fronds overhead. Cutler could hear the faint tinkle of music and distant shouts wafting on the breeze, and felt a sudden tightness in his throat as reality swept over him with the soft, Mediterranean wind. He sat up abruptly, dusting the fine grains of sand from his tousled hair before awkwardly pulling on his breeches.
Jack’s eyes wordlessly followed him as he redressed; Cutler intentionally kept his back turned on the sailor. The tightness in his throat had become a dizzying pounding that threatened to overcome him if he looked at Jack. He heard the sand crunch beneath Jack’s boots and felt a soft touch on his shoulders. He hastily turned and bumped into the sailor-he was closer than Cutler had expected. Cutler met his eyes and swallowed hard. “Will I see…” His voice caught in his throat. He felt the corners of his eyes begin to sting, so he quickly bowed his head, blinking rapidly and hiding in the darkness.
Jack gently lifted his chin and smiled down at him. “I’m sure of it, Cutty. A few months to India, a few months back.”
“It’s so long…” Cutler’s voice was scarcely a whisper.
“You’ll forget all about me before you’re even back in Portsmouth,” Jack said, grinning.
“How can I forget you when you’re all I think about?” Cutler’s face immediately turned scarlet. Even though Jack couldn’t see it in the darkness, he could guess the boy was blushing from his clipped words and sudden silence.
Jack tenderly pressed his lips against Cutler’s forehead. He was pleasantly surprised as the boy’s arms entwined around him in a tight embrace. Cutler buried his head into Jack’s chest and inhaled deeply, memorizing his scent of salt and leather before abruptly pushing him away, stumbling out onto the beach.
Jack watched him go, half-running, half-tripping across the sandy strip of land.
“I’ll miss you, too,” he breathed as the retreating figure vanished into the darkness.