fanfic: Breaking the Chains
Title: Breaking the Chains
Author: txorakeriak
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Disclaimer: Norrington and Gillette are Ted and Terry's, though they have greater need for what I'm offering at the moment. So I kidnapped them, with every intention to bring them back (and then to kidnap them again, and so on). The idea for the text on the LJ-cut has been taken from the song "Fantasia" by Stratovarius. Not mine either.
Pairing: Norrington/Gillette
Rating: NC-17
A/N: PWP. Lost scene from "The Letter", written for the world to see that Gillington can be sexy and especially for galadhir, who knows it already. The beginning of this smutlet will make little sense (and maybe come as a shock) if you haven't read "The Letter".
Thanks to: porridgebird for faster than light beta! And amusing me to no end. *giggles and hugs*
***
"Andrew?"
Gillette didn't really know where the voice was coming from, as he was too lost in his thoughts. He only noticed it somewhere in the distance, clouded by the sentence, "Sparrow was hanged in Antigua," that was echoing in his head and the beating of his heart, which seemed awfully loud.
He felt relieved, but he also felt guilty, as if wishing for a man's death could really kill him. And how often had he wished for the dreadful, irritating pirate to meet justice, how often had he dreamed of it and been left with a loathsomely immoral smugness when the trapdoor dropped and the neck snapped like a stretched thread cut in two? He hadn't felt guilty then. But he hadn't known till just now.
His lover.
He truly hadn't wanted this. Not when it came with such grief and his happiness depended entirely on someone else's - the very person who was with him and still seemed so far away from him, the person who must have loved what he had despised so much. His head cried victory, but his soul wept in shame. The world had fallen down.
As the concerned voice spoke again, a bit louder than before but still soft like a feather, stroking his very soul with its rich sound, Gillette's gaze left the little piece of paper on the drawer and finally looked up. His heart leapt, and if it could have jumped out of his chest, it would have. The pain was all the same.
Brown eyes locked with green eyes, that showed so much just now, full of honesty, sacrifice and ache - three things that only seldomly parted. But there was something else, a little optimistic flicker, feasting on the heavy, poisonous feelings like a flame on a lump of barium. It was impossible for Gillette to know what to make of it, but it caught him completely. And he was getting uncomfortably warm, as if the flame had jumped over to him, heating him up and feeding on him. Suddenly, the echoing voices in his head fell silent, the guilt and pain ebbed down, leaving no trace, as if he had never in his life felt that way.
His trembling fingers moved to his waistcoat almost without him noticing it, slowly unbuttoning it before casting it aside carelessly. So unlike him. But he could not give it a thought, not for the world, for the world was here, just within his grasp.
He had wanted something like this for so long, just to stand there, close to him, just looking at him. He felt like an open book now, with the fire having eaten all his self-restraint, but it didn't make him feel exposed. It was an advantage, an enormous relief. His heart, his body could tell what his lips were afraid to.
I am yours. Always have been, always will be. And I love you, more than I can say.
***
Norrington would have never expected that it could come to this. As if a door had been opened to another world, permitting him to take a look into unknown lands, he was now facing his fellow officer and friend in a way he had never done before.
Desire undulated inside him, drawing him closer to the red-haired man he had known for so long now but never seen like this. His eyes stroked slowly over the soft lines of the other man's face, along his slightly parted lips and down his cheek, along the side of his neck, until a white shirt refused him the sight of further skin. He couldn't explain the feeling that was so strong he almost couldn't believe he had never been aware of it before. And he was still moving closer, until there was no space left between them, and he was burning, fingers shaking, craving for a touch.
Almost by accident, his hand brushed against Gillette's, and it felt so good yet so insufficient.
Only a second later, he was kissing him. It started out as a mere brush of lips against lips, like the meeting of their hands just before, but encouraged by Gillette's immediate response, Norrington put his hand on the other man's neck, pulling him closer while greedily tasting those lips. Another hand moved around Gillette's hip, pressing their bodies together as if they were miles apart. He felt the moan against his mouth and he swallowed it, eager to elicit another. Their tongues fought their own battle, neither willing to back down until they were forced to, when both men were too aroused to keep the duel up.
They broke the kiss and for some time just stared at one another, breathless and completely perplexed, as if their closeness was not proof enough of what was real. They had taken the first step, and they had taken it quickly, without any hesitation, without any questions. Norrington could not bring himself to care. Not now. Not when his whole body urged him to touch that pretty man again, not when he wanted to kiss the soul out of him, to finally know everything.
Norrington took Gillette's hand, burning against his like pure fire, and the two men hurried up the stairs to his bedroom. He didn't want to wait, he was positively sick and tired of waiting for something just to see it slip out of his grasp, and he certainly had no intention of letting this chance pass. The doors flung open, and with a quick shove, Norrington pushed Gillette on the bed and himself on top of him.
His mouth claimed Gillette's fiercely, nibbling and biting, his tongue exploring hungrily, passionately, while his hands worked with the buttons of their breeches, impatiently tugging at them until they surrendered, except for the last one, which met the floor soon after but was mercilessly ignored. There was no time to think about that. Norrington wanted only one thing right now, and he wanted it desperately, as if he had been living in celibacy all of his life. He was so curious for more, to find out how it would be with this man, his closest friend, now that he had the opportunity.
And they were still going too slowly. Impatiently, Norrington pulled away from Gillette's lips, pulled Gillette's breeches down his legs and threw them behind him, before he hastily rid himself of his own. They were both panting, and how sweetly the little ragged breaths emerged those wonderful lips, how absolutely arousing was the sight of Gillette, his friend, his lieutenant, only in his shirt and stockings, sprawled on his bed like the most wonderful feast he could imagine.
Finally, Norrington brought himself to speak, his deep voice hoarse, mirroring the lust burning in his veins. "I... I want to be inside you. Please--"
He couldn't finish what he had wanted to say, for he was interrupted by a word so desperate, so intense; it almost sounded like a prayer. "Please..."
And Norrington did not ask twice. He lifted Gillette's legs and rested between them, feasting on the sight like a painter on his favourite portrait, like a poet on his favourite poem. His.
There was a little vial in his drawer, but it seemed too far away, so he just spat on his hand, rubbed the saliva on his aching cock and entered Gillette with one slow, long thrust, biting his lip at the sensational feeling, until he was buried all the way inside him and the breath he had been holding became a deep, guttural moan that matched Gillette's, who had apparently been holding his breath, too.
Eager to feel that pleasure again, he pulled back, almost retreating completely, before he pushed back in, stronger and more powerful this time, pausing to watch Gillette's face, hoping he had not hurt him. But none of the noises Gillette was making were sounds of pain. He was panting through parted lips, his head thrown back against the pillow, his eyes closed - the look of absolute bliss, near oblivion.
A quick smile brushed over Norrington's lips and as suddenly as he had stopped, he resumed their lovemaking, increasing the force of his thrusts steadily until he had almost reached his limit and was pounding into the man under him, the tight heat undoing him more with every move he made. But he kept his rhythm, enjoyed the sounds that hung in the air like a big cloud, fuelling him steadily until he almost couldn't hold back anymore.
He bit his lip hard to fight the urge to let go, but he drew blood, and he couldn't think of anything more proper than to share. Gillette responded eagerly, pressing his mouth to Norrington's as he bent down, licking him clean before pulling back and gasping for air, so loudly one would think he was choking.
And Norrington was still fucking him, hard and fast, with enough force to draw Gillette closer to his orgasm but at the same time with enough restraint not to push himself over the edge. But he was close, too close.
I want you, want to have you, to make you mine completely. I hunger for you. Give yourself to me.
Suddenly, Gillette gasped, bit his lip, and Norrington felt him reach his orgasm, and there it was, making him grab the sheet of the bed and pull at it as his body shook, and Norrington was certain that he was more beautiful now than he had ever seemed before - a quick thought that came to his mind as he finally let go and with a few quick thrusts completed their union, crying out as he spent, then pulling out and collapsing next to the other man, where he lay on his back and tried to remember how to breathe.
And not much later, two men were curled up against each other in a tight embrace and covered by a warm blanket as the waves outside the window sang them to sleep.
Author: txorakeriak
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Disclaimer: Norrington and Gillette are Ted and Terry's, though they have greater need for what I'm offering at the moment. So I kidnapped them, with every intention to bring them back (and then to kidnap them again, and so on). The idea for the text on the LJ-cut has been taken from the song "Fantasia" by Stratovarius. Not mine either.
Pairing: Norrington/Gillette
Rating: NC-17
A/N: PWP. Lost scene from "The Letter", written for the world to see that Gillington can be sexy and especially for galadhir, who knows it already. The beginning of this smutlet will make little sense (and maybe come as a shock) if you haven't read "The Letter".
Thanks to: porridgebird for faster than light beta! And amusing me to no end. *giggles and hugs*
***
"Andrew?"
Gillette didn't really know where the voice was coming from, as he was too lost in his thoughts. He only noticed it somewhere in the distance, clouded by the sentence, "Sparrow was hanged in Antigua," that was echoing in his head and the beating of his heart, which seemed awfully loud.
He felt relieved, but he also felt guilty, as if wishing for a man's death could really kill him. And how often had he wished for the dreadful, irritating pirate to meet justice, how often had he dreamed of it and been left with a loathsomely immoral smugness when the trapdoor dropped and the neck snapped like a stretched thread cut in two? He hadn't felt guilty then. But he hadn't known till just now.
His lover.
He truly hadn't wanted this. Not when it came with such grief and his happiness depended entirely on someone else's - the very person who was with him and still seemed so far away from him, the person who must have loved what he had despised so much. His head cried victory, but his soul wept in shame. The world had fallen down.
As the concerned voice spoke again, a bit louder than before but still soft like a feather, stroking his very soul with its rich sound, Gillette's gaze left the little piece of paper on the drawer and finally looked up. His heart leapt, and if it could have jumped out of his chest, it would have. The pain was all the same.
Brown eyes locked with green eyes, that showed so much just now, full of honesty, sacrifice and ache - three things that only seldomly parted. But there was something else, a little optimistic flicker, feasting on the heavy, poisonous feelings like a flame on a lump of barium. It was impossible for Gillette to know what to make of it, but it caught him completely. And he was getting uncomfortably warm, as if the flame had jumped over to him, heating him up and feeding on him. Suddenly, the echoing voices in his head fell silent, the guilt and pain ebbed down, leaving no trace, as if he had never in his life felt that way.
His trembling fingers moved to his waistcoat almost without him noticing it, slowly unbuttoning it before casting it aside carelessly. So unlike him. But he could not give it a thought, not for the world, for the world was here, just within his grasp.
He had wanted something like this for so long, just to stand there, close to him, just looking at him. He felt like an open book now, with the fire having eaten all his self-restraint, but it didn't make him feel exposed. It was an advantage, an enormous relief. His heart, his body could tell what his lips were afraid to.
I am yours. Always have been, always will be. And I love you, more than I can say.
***
Norrington would have never expected that it could come to this. As if a door had been opened to another world, permitting him to take a look into unknown lands, he was now facing his fellow officer and friend in a way he had never done before.
Desire undulated inside him, drawing him closer to the red-haired man he had known for so long now but never seen like this. His eyes stroked slowly over the soft lines of the other man's face, along his slightly parted lips and down his cheek, along the side of his neck, until a white shirt refused him the sight of further skin. He couldn't explain the feeling that was so strong he almost couldn't believe he had never been aware of it before. And he was still moving closer, until there was no space left between them, and he was burning, fingers shaking, craving for a touch.
Almost by accident, his hand brushed against Gillette's, and it felt so good yet so insufficient.
Only a second later, he was kissing him. It started out as a mere brush of lips against lips, like the meeting of their hands just before, but encouraged by Gillette's immediate response, Norrington put his hand on the other man's neck, pulling him closer while greedily tasting those lips. Another hand moved around Gillette's hip, pressing their bodies together as if they were miles apart. He felt the moan against his mouth and he swallowed it, eager to elicit another. Their tongues fought their own battle, neither willing to back down until they were forced to, when both men were too aroused to keep the duel up.
They broke the kiss and for some time just stared at one another, breathless and completely perplexed, as if their closeness was not proof enough of what was real. They had taken the first step, and they had taken it quickly, without any hesitation, without any questions. Norrington could not bring himself to care. Not now. Not when his whole body urged him to touch that pretty man again, not when he wanted to kiss the soul out of him, to finally know everything.
Norrington took Gillette's hand, burning against his like pure fire, and the two men hurried up the stairs to his bedroom. He didn't want to wait, he was positively sick and tired of waiting for something just to see it slip out of his grasp, and he certainly had no intention of letting this chance pass. The doors flung open, and with a quick shove, Norrington pushed Gillette on the bed and himself on top of him.
His mouth claimed Gillette's fiercely, nibbling and biting, his tongue exploring hungrily, passionately, while his hands worked with the buttons of their breeches, impatiently tugging at them until they surrendered, except for the last one, which met the floor soon after but was mercilessly ignored. There was no time to think about that. Norrington wanted only one thing right now, and he wanted it desperately, as if he had been living in celibacy all of his life. He was so curious for more, to find out how it would be with this man, his closest friend, now that he had the opportunity.
And they were still going too slowly. Impatiently, Norrington pulled away from Gillette's lips, pulled Gillette's breeches down his legs and threw them behind him, before he hastily rid himself of his own. They were both panting, and how sweetly the little ragged breaths emerged those wonderful lips, how absolutely arousing was the sight of Gillette, his friend, his lieutenant, only in his shirt and stockings, sprawled on his bed like the most wonderful feast he could imagine.
Finally, Norrington brought himself to speak, his deep voice hoarse, mirroring the lust burning in his veins. "I... I want to be inside you. Please--"
He couldn't finish what he had wanted to say, for he was interrupted by a word so desperate, so intense; it almost sounded like a prayer. "Please..."
And Norrington did not ask twice. He lifted Gillette's legs and rested between them, feasting on the sight like a painter on his favourite portrait, like a poet on his favourite poem. His.
There was a little vial in his drawer, but it seemed too far away, so he just spat on his hand, rubbed the saliva on his aching cock and entered Gillette with one slow, long thrust, biting his lip at the sensational feeling, until he was buried all the way inside him and the breath he had been holding became a deep, guttural moan that matched Gillette's, who had apparently been holding his breath, too.
Eager to feel that pleasure again, he pulled back, almost retreating completely, before he pushed back in, stronger and more powerful this time, pausing to watch Gillette's face, hoping he had not hurt him. But none of the noises Gillette was making were sounds of pain. He was panting through parted lips, his head thrown back against the pillow, his eyes closed - the look of absolute bliss, near oblivion.
A quick smile brushed over Norrington's lips and as suddenly as he had stopped, he resumed their lovemaking, increasing the force of his thrusts steadily until he had almost reached his limit and was pounding into the man under him, the tight heat undoing him more with every move he made. But he kept his rhythm, enjoyed the sounds that hung in the air like a big cloud, fuelling him steadily until he almost couldn't hold back anymore.
He bit his lip hard to fight the urge to let go, but he drew blood, and he couldn't think of anything more proper than to share. Gillette responded eagerly, pressing his mouth to Norrington's as he bent down, licking him clean before pulling back and gasping for air, so loudly one would think he was choking.
And Norrington was still fucking him, hard and fast, with enough force to draw Gillette closer to his orgasm but at the same time with enough restraint not to push himself over the edge. But he was close, too close.
I want you, want to have you, to make you mine completely. I hunger for you. Give yourself to me.
Suddenly, Gillette gasped, bit his lip, and Norrington felt him reach his orgasm, and there it was, making him grab the sheet of the bed and pull at it as his body shook, and Norrington was certain that he was more beautiful now than he had ever seemed before - a quick thought that came to his mind as he finally let go and with a few quick thrusts completed their union, crying out as he spent, then pulling out and collapsing next to the other man, where he lay on his back and tried to remember how to breathe.
And not much later, two men were curled up against each other in a tight embrace and covered by a warm blanket as the waves outside the window sang them to sleep.