New Fic: "Contradictions 9 - Choices" Part 5
See Part 1 for disclaimers, etc.
Once they were in Swann’s carriage alone, Jack perched across from Will and crossed his legs. “What the blazes was that?” he demanded.
The man who was never fidgety closed his eyes and seemed to be stuttering before finding his first words, shaking his head. “I just don’t like the Bermuda route, Jack.”
Here’s a first. “Has Gibbs been fillin’ your ear with that superstitious rot?”
“It isn’t him.” Will looked out the carriage window, offering nothing else.
Jack studied him, then leaned forward, cupping a hand over Will’s knee. “Mate, you do realize you’re gon’ have to do better than that,” he prodded. “I mean - I didn’ know better, I’d say you’re givin’ in to superstition and stories about th’ Triangle, and even after some of th’ stuff ye’ve seen, that’s just not your style.”
Will gritted his teeth, then chewed at his upper lip, clearly consternated. He still didn’t meet Jack’s eyes. “’S not … it’s not stories, Jack,” he said, barely over the rumbling wheels along the rocks. “Stories imply fiction.” He glanced at Jack, who nodded once, squeezing the knee he held. Will looked back out the carriage window.
“It was the crossing from England,” he began. “Couple of years after Mum died. Captain Hinkley ran the ship hard to make good time, since he was ferrying some official, and he chose the shortest direct route, pushing hard.” It was clearly an effort for Will to keep his voice even, let alone remember not to repeat himself. “One day there was this horrible storm, a squall turned loose fit to come from hell itself. I was helping secure some lower rigging, and we were batted around and nearly capsized.” He looked at Jack now. “And then it was just … quiet.”
“Eye of th’ storm?” he guessed.
“I thought so, too. I mean, the sun was shining again, and the ship was calm, and the air was so still.” He frowned. “So I climb down from the rigging and stand on deck to look around, grateful for how peaceful and quiet it all is, you know. And it was very quiet.” He opened his mouth to say more, but nothing came out; he quickly snapped it closed.
Jack felt Will’s knee begin to rock, and sat up, realizing the man was at a fine tremble all over. Switching seats to be next to Will, he slid one arm around his shoulders and the other around his midsection, rubbing at his far upper arm. “Go on, then,” he coaxed, cheek pressed to Will’s temple. “Finish it.”
“Was so quiet ‘cause nobody was there but me.” The words came out small and scared, and Jack briefly believed he was cradling a boy of ten rather than a grown man more than twice that. “Nobody. Not a soul. I ran below, checked that entire ship. I - I thought they’d all washed overboard, and I was going to just drift until I ran out of food or water, or was attacked, or killed by another storm.” Jack held him as the carriage rocked and bumped, rare fear gripping his own chest as the story was spun out.
“I - I don’t know how much time passed while I was in there. Never saw a soul. Never heard a noise, not even waves lapping the ship. No breeze, no clouds - no birdcalls, even.” He lifted his head to look at Jack, his eyes large and worried, as he swallowed. “When the storm hit again, out of nowhere … well, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy for rain, and lightning, and people yelling around me.”
“Why didn’ you tell me this before?” Jack moved his hand from Will’s waist to touch his cheek.
“We haven’t been through there, or very near it. I thought I could get out of saying something for a while yet.” His jaw tightened and he glanced away just long enough that when he looked back, the fear in his eyes had abated somewhat. Jack knew how Will hated cowards or being perceived as one. “I just- I guess I said something in front of the Governor because I didn’t want to lie and tell him to expect something he shouldn’t. Look, I apologize if it looked like I was undermining you; I wasn’t trying-“
“’S all right.” Jack shook his head. “Fear’s a powerful motivator.”
Will nodded. “There’s a little more.” He took a couple of deep breaths. “That was early on, maybe mid-morning; a few hours later, Barbossa attacked the ship. He burned it to the water, killed everybody on board. Everybody.” He closed his eyes. “Except for me, Jack. I’m the only one who lived through that massacre. Because I hid down below, managed to swim out through a hole in the hull as the ship was sinking. I crawled up on a piece of it … I must’ve passed out. The medallion was hidden in my shirt until Elizabeth found it, after the Dauntless picked me up.”
“Will-“
“I’m the only one who was on that ship when the storm went over, Jack, and I’m the only one who survived the same day. That- I can’t imagine it’s a coincidence. I think I … that I got all those people killed, Jack.”
Jack pressed his forehead to Will’s. “I doubt that,” he conceded. “Ocean’s got a lot o’ mysteries; Cortes’s treasure’s only one, and it was around a hell of a time before either you or I. No small boy could’ve caused any of that- Shh, now, listen to me.” He brushed his nose against the side of Will’s, who was about to protest, and shook his head slowly. “No, Will. Really listen. Would you believe any other small boy capable of such a thing?” Will hesitated. “C’mon now, mate. A boy?”
“No,” came the quiet reply.
“Then quit it, Will. I’ll sail around th’ Triangle, steer clear o’ Bermuda, because I believe ye. But I’ll not sit here an’ listen to you take blame for that rotten bastard’s avarice. If th’ two events are related, you can wager he was somehow responsible - not you. Savvy?” He nuzzled Will’s nose a bit more, pushing until he got his nod. “Hmm?”
When he kissed Will, the man returned it almost shyly, then deepened it, hands wound in Jack’s shirt to hold them together. Something felt odd, but Jack didn’t place what it was until many seconds later. He broke the kiss, pulling back. “Carriage stopped,” he murmured, cocking his head toward the front.
“Oh.” Will’s eyes were on his mouth, his own lips flushed and plump, sandy moustache ruffled. His voice was husky and low. “We have to row back to the ship tonight, Jack?”
His thick, muddled brain was trying to send his mouth a reply when the driver knocked at the door behind him. Jack released Will and whirled, and spoke as the fellow opened the carriage. “Any good taverns by th’ docks?” he asked. Producing a crown from his wrist pouch in impressive legerdemain, he pressed it into the man’s fingers and shooed him back to his horses.
For the next few minutes it took to travel, Jack and Will touched one another as thoroughly as two people can when trying not to muss the other’s appearance. He sucked at Will’s upper lip as the smith caressed his thigh, then bit gently at his earlobe while Will kneaded what he could reach of Jack’s backside. They panted, and Jack was intensely glad he’d thought to tuck a small vial of lubricant in the pouch beneath his sash, done in a fit of mad impulse hoping to get Will alone in some part of the Governor’s mansion for fifteen minutes.
They tumbled out of the carriage soon enough, Jack going first and resisting the urge to offer Will a solicitous hand down. They moved casually enough through the street traffic, each knowing their role upon entering the tavern - Will would wander not too far and look about for a seat while Jack negotiated a room upstairs. On his way, he’d pause long enough to tell his lover where to find him, and several minutes later, Will would wander upstairs.
Except, there were no rooms, at least none unoccupied, which was not surprising given the number of people in the tavern itself. The bartender assured Jack one would open up for the rest of the evening if Sir wished to wait a while. Jack ordered rum and ale and held the tankards in against his body, weaving through the press of people until he found Will perched on one ledge of the huge double-sided stone fireplace toward the center of the room. He’d taken his seat on the side facing the more intimate, darker section of the room, since there were no available chairs, and scooted over to give Jack room. “Says it’ll be a bit,” Jack raised his voice over the din, handing Will the ale. “Mind?”
“No.” Jack sat just far enough away to look conversational, his back terribly warm where the fire blazed. “Feels sort of like the smithy right here,” Will pointed out, as if reading Jack’s thoughts. “Except, no work to get done.”
They talked like this for a while, falling into an easy conversation about their impending voyage and the route they would take toward the African coast. Jack turned toward the other man, pulling his knee up to rest more comfortably, while explaining this part. Then Will mentioned some of the things he might like to stop and show Elizabeth, if they had time and means, and Jack watched him speak, animated and eager. Firelight reflected from the deep brown pools of Will’s eyes, and streaks of sun-lightened hair shone in the fire’s glow. Jack sipped his rum.
Bill, my god in heaven, he’s perfect. Gorgeous and mannered, and strong and vulnerable all at once, and apparently amenable to dissolute old buccaneers staring ‘til the world looks level at all of it, with the most unsavory thoughts in mind. I never thought to be in love with your only boy, and I can even forgive that he’s got her eyes, because they’re so lovely when they look at me that way. Yes, that way-
“What’re you looking at?” The question was fond, as Will certainly knew damn well what Jack was absorbing with his languid, dark gaze.
“Just wishin’ to be closer to you.”
Will glanced around; over time, the place had gotten quieter, and there were only a handful of people in their sight now, absorbed in conversations of their own or becoming champion drinkers. He took Jack’s closest hand and rubbed the knuckles with a thumb. “Like this?”
“Sort of.”
When he lifted Jack’s palm and kissed it, Jack held his breath, even as Will raised his eyes. “I don’t tell you enough how beautiful you are,” he murmured. “How much I’d like to spend some days doing nothing but touching you, and let work go hang itself.”
Jack blinked, surprised, so focused on Will that the serving girl had to shake him by the shoulder to hand him his room key and stick her hand out for coin. He overpaid in a daze, leaving his mug as he stood, not bothering to pretend he wasn’t following as Will led the way up the long stairs and down to the end room on the left.
Hair was loosed, boots pulled free, shirts and breeches shed before Jack backed Will against the room’s hip-high table. “Sit up here,” he directed, moving in as Will scooted onto its scarred top and opened his legs. “You want me?”
Will let his head fall back and offered his throat to his captain. He was so ready; Jack nibbled at that Adam’s apple as he wrapped a hand around the man’s cock, smearing sticky discharge around its shiny, slitted head. For some reason, Will trying to lift one leg and balance his large bare foot against Jack’s hip was the sweetest thing ever, and he moved up to claim the man in a hot, hard kiss as he reached down and cupped his tight balls. They were hard and softly silky, full and substantial in Jack’s calloused grip. As he massaged, Will leaned back, bracing one hand flat on the tabletop and the other on Jack’s shoulder, scrabbling for balance.
It wasn’t right; Jack pulled him up and circled them both toward the bed, getting Will beneath him in a collapse of arms and legs and tongues. He didn’t wait long to slick his fingers with oil and coax them into Will’s eager, relaxed arse, following quickly with his flushed prick. Will arched off the bed as Jack wriggled in. “Like me deep in you?” He rotated his hips. “This?”
He made a strangled noise. “Like that, Jack.” He opened his eyes, fiery and unfocused. “Fuck me.”
Jack leaned over, still rammed up inside the man, and licked a stripe from the bottom of his chin to just beneath his nose. “Rather make love t’ you,” he whispered.
“Oh.” Will’s arms looped around his shoulders, and he drew a knee high to accommodate Jack. “Oh. Didn’t think you liked-“
Jack ducked his head. “Will, this is you. And me. Alone. We can admit a lot, like this.”
In the twinkle of an eye, Will had Jack rolled to his side, ankle still hooked around the back of his thigh. “Then, admit to me how long you’ve wanted this,” he pressed. “Tell me again.”
“Long time,” Jack answered.
Will shook his head. “Tell me how many whores you had after I came on board to be one of your crew.”
“None.” Jack blushed; the oddest reaction.
“Because you wanted me.” He stroked Jack’s hair back. “Why? You could imagine their warm flesh was mine, the noises your rentboy made was me …”
“Nobody else is you.” He was utterly honest. “You’re … like nobody I know.”
Will eased more into Jack’s arms. “Keep talking, you’ll have me forever,” he grinned, kissing Jack’s chin. “Don’t stop now.”
He thrust a few times, then forced Will to his back, tasting his neck. Jack’s hips were a slow, careful rhythm, pausing only to shift as he propped himself higher to look down on the other man. Will smiled faintly, dark amber eyes locked on Jack’s. His head jerked along the pillow, sliding back and forth with each of Jack’s thrusts, curls brushing his bare shoulders in erratic rhythm. He pumped faster, loving the muscular ring of Will’s sheath on his cock. “You have no shame,” he managed, panting. “Thank God.”
“Corruptor … of innocents.” This, Will moaned back at him. “Dissolute, sex-mad scoundrel.”
“Ah … you noticed.” They both laughed shallowly, breathlessly. He leaned closer. “Wonder who was in this bed ‘fore us?”
“Hope they stripped th’ sheets.”
“Oh, no, no, love,” Jack purred, his long, lean body a smooth piston now. “No … can’t ye smell th’ sex? Hear ‘em like us, so needy with heat an’ frustration?” Will shook his head as if in distaste, but his eyes were huge, pupils blown with desire, lips parted to suck and push out breath. “Wonder if whoever ‘twas got fucked hard as you, right down into th’ goddamn mattress.”
Will’s hands curved up behind his shoulders, gripping tightly. “Arsehole,” he hissed accusingly.
“An’ quite a nice one you have there, pet.”
“Jack-“ He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth. “Jack, oh FUCK, harder.”
Will was clutching Jack, and Jack was fucking Will, and nothing would’ve convinced the captain to be anywhere else at that very moment, no matter how much swag or years of deserved revenge was involved. All the times he’d watched Will from a distance, all the times he’d tried not to be obvious about staring, all the times he had to force himself to speak to Will the same as he’d talk to any other crew member, boiled down to moments like this.
Impatiently, Will growled, stopped them, and rolled Jack to his back. “Said harder!” he groaned, on his knees.
Jack used Will to pull himself up, then pulled at each of the man’s long legs until they were unfolded, practically wrapped around Jack. Gripping Will’s thighs tightly, he tugged as he thrust, neither particularly easy to do in this position. Will rearranged his feet flat on the bed, knees bent, to help.
They rocked somewhat awkwardly, Jack ignoring the smith’s extra weight on him. He was stronger than he appeared, and besides, it was worth a lot to be able to wrap his arms around Will while they fucked, to lick his neck or the corner of his gritted jaw while using one hand to fist the man’s prick. “Feels grand, doesn’ it?” Jack gasped.
“Mmmmmm,” Will agreed, breathing ragged.
Jack was always careful to keep as much bodily contact with Will during lovemaking as possible. The smith had explained one night, nearly asleep and too exhausted to be anything but honest, that after Siobhan took ill, she’d refused her son’s hugs for fear of infecting him. Nobody else, save Elizabeth, had shown him the least physical affection for several years after, not until Jack’s fleeting, occasional invasions of his personal space. He knew Will was starved for touch, and Jack himself hadn’t known a gentle one for quite a long time before Will took him to bed - or pallet, as the case may be.
Working his clean hand into Will’s wavy hair after they both spent and tumbled to the pillows, Jack angled his head for what turned out to be a long, desperate kiss. Eyes still closed, he murmured against his lips, “I love you.” Will nodded quickly, arms wrapped around Jack. “Ye miss it around here?”
“No.” He kissed Jack again, up on his nose, then moved higher, between his eyes. “Not like I’d miss Pearl … and you …” He kissed Jack’s right eyelid. “And this.” Left eyelid next.
When he pulled back, Jack opened his eyes; Will was watching him fondly, brown gaze soft with emotions Jack had once upon a time associated with Elizabeth. He knew, then, that he’d managed to cross that rocky barrier. Will would now steal ships and die for him … and it was as heady as it was frightening.
But then again, Jack had been ready to do that for Will anytime.
On to Part 6 ...
Once they were in Swann’s carriage alone, Jack perched across from Will and crossed his legs. “What the blazes was that?” he demanded.
The man who was never fidgety closed his eyes and seemed to be stuttering before finding his first words, shaking his head. “I just don’t like the Bermuda route, Jack.”
Here’s a first. “Has Gibbs been fillin’ your ear with that superstitious rot?”
“It isn’t him.” Will looked out the carriage window, offering nothing else.
Jack studied him, then leaned forward, cupping a hand over Will’s knee. “Mate, you do realize you’re gon’ have to do better than that,” he prodded. “I mean - I didn’ know better, I’d say you’re givin’ in to superstition and stories about th’ Triangle, and even after some of th’ stuff ye’ve seen, that’s just not your style.”
Will gritted his teeth, then chewed at his upper lip, clearly consternated. He still didn’t meet Jack’s eyes. “’S not … it’s not stories, Jack,” he said, barely over the rumbling wheels along the rocks. “Stories imply fiction.” He glanced at Jack, who nodded once, squeezing the knee he held. Will looked back out the carriage window.
“It was the crossing from England,” he began. “Couple of years after Mum died. Captain Hinkley ran the ship hard to make good time, since he was ferrying some official, and he chose the shortest direct route, pushing hard.” It was clearly an effort for Will to keep his voice even, let alone remember not to repeat himself. “One day there was this horrible storm, a squall turned loose fit to come from hell itself. I was helping secure some lower rigging, and we were batted around and nearly capsized.” He looked at Jack now. “And then it was just … quiet.”
“Eye of th’ storm?” he guessed.
“I thought so, too. I mean, the sun was shining again, and the ship was calm, and the air was so still.” He frowned. “So I climb down from the rigging and stand on deck to look around, grateful for how peaceful and quiet it all is, you know. And it was very quiet.” He opened his mouth to say more, but nothing came out; he quickly snapped it closed.
Jack felt Will’s knee begin to rock, and sat up, realizing the man was at a fine tremble all over. Switching seats to be next to Will, he slid one arm around his shoulders and the other around his midsection, rubbing at his far upper arm. “Go on, then,” he coaxed, cheek pressed to Will’s temple. “Finish it.”
“Was so quiet ‘cause nobody was there but me.” The words came out small and scared, and Jack briefly believed he was cradling a boy of ten rather than a grown man more than twice that. “Nobody. Not a soul. I ran below, checked that entire ship. I - I thought they’d all washed overboard, and I was going to just drift until I ran out of food or water, or was attacked, or killed by another storm.” Jack held him as the carriage rocked and bumped, rare fear gripping his own chest as the story was spun out.
“I - I don’t know how much time passed while I was in there. Never saw a soul. Never heard a noise, not even waves lapping the ship. No breeze, no clouds - no birdcalls, even.” He lifted his head to look at Jack, his eyes large and worried, as he swallowed. “When the storm hit again, out of nowhere … well, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy for rain, and lightning, and people yelling around me.”
“Why didn’ you tell me this before?” Jack moved his hand from Will’s waist to touch his cheek.
“We haven’t been through there, or very near it. I thought I could get out of saying something for a while yet.” His jaw tightened and he glanced away just long enough that when he looked back, the fear in his eyes had abated somewhat. Jack knew how Will hated cowards or being perceived as one. “I just- I guess I said something in front of the Governor because I didn’t want to lie and tell him to expect something he shouldn’t. Look, I apologize if it looked like I was undermining you; I wasn’t trying-“
“’S all right.” Jack shook his head. “Fear’s a powerful motivator.”
Will nodded. “There’s a little more.” He took a couple of deep breaths. “That was early on, maybe mid-morning; a few hours later, Barbossa attacked the ship. He burned it to the water, killed everybody on board. Everybody.” He closed his eyes. “Except for me, Jack. I’m the only one who lived through that massacre. Because I hid down below, managed to swim out through a hole in the hull as the ship was sinking. I crawled up on a piece of it … I must’ve passed out. The medallion was hidden in my shirt until Elizabeth found it, after the Dauntless picked me up.”
“Will-“
“I’m the only one who was on that ship when the storm went over, Jack, and I’m the only one who survived the same day. That- I can’t imagine it’s a coincidence. I think I … that I got all those people killed, Jack.”
Jack pressed his forehead to Will’s. “I doubt that,” he conceded. “Ocean’s got a lot o’ mysteries; Cortes’s treasure’s only one, and it was around a hell of a time before either you or I. No small boy could’ve caused any of that- Shh, now, listen to me.” He brushed his nose against the side of Will’s, who was about to protest, and shook his head slowly. “No, Will. Really listen. Would you believe any other small boy capable of such a thing?” Will hesitated. “C’mon now, mate. A boy?”
“No,” came the quiet reply.
“Then quit it, Will. I’ll sail around th’ Triangle, steer clear o’ Bermuda, because I believe ye. But I’ll not sit here an’ listen to you take blame for that rotten bastard’s avarice. If th’ two events are related, you can wager he was somehow responsible - not you. Savvy?” He nuzzled Will’s nose a bit more, pushing until he got his nod. “Hmm?”
When he kissed Will, the man returned it almost shyly, then deepened it, hands wound in Jack’s shirt to hold them together. Something felt odd, but Jack didn’t place what it was until many seconds later. He broke the kiss, pulling back. “Carriage stopped,” he murmured, cocking his head toward the front.
“Oh.” Will’s eyes were on his mouth, his own lips flushed and plump, sandy moustache ruffled. His voice was husky and low. “We have to row back to the ship tonight, Jack?”
His thick, muddled brain was trying to send his mouth a reply when the driver knocked at the door behind him. Jack released Will and whirled, and spoke as the fellow opened the carriage. “Any good taverns by th’ docks?” he asked. Producing a crown from his wrist pouch in impressive legerdemain, he pressed it into the man’s fingers and shooed him back to his horses.
For the next few minutes it took to travel, Jack and Will touched one another as thoroughly as two people can when trying not to muss the other’s appearance. He sucked at Will’s upper lip as the smith caressed his thigh, then bit gently at his earlobe while Will kneaded what he could reach of Jack’s backside. They panted, and Jack was intensely glad he’d thought to tuck a small vial of lubricant in the pouch beneath his sash, done in a fit of mad impulse hoping to get Will alone in some part of the Governor’s mansion for fifteen minutes.
They tumbled out of the carriage soon enough, Jack going first and resisting the urge to offer Will a solicitous hand down. They moved casually enough through the street traffic, each knowing their role upon entering the tavern - Will would wander not too far and look about for a seat while Jack negotiated a room upstairs. On his way, he’d pause long enough to tell his lover where to find him, and several minutes later, Will would wander upstairs.
Except, there were no rooms, at least none unoccupied, which was not surprising given the number of people in the tavern itself. The bartender assured Jack one would open up for the rest of the evening if Sir wished to wait a while. Jack ordered rum and ale and held the tankards in against his body, weaving through the press of people until he found Will perched on one ledge of the huge double-sided stone fireplace toward the center of the room. He’d taken his seat on the side facing the more intimate, darker section of the room, since there were no available chairs, and scooted over to give Jack room. “Says it’ll be a bit,” Jack raised his voice over the din, handing Will the ale. “Mind?”
“No.” Jack sat just far enough away to look conversational, his back terribly warm where the fire blazed. “Feels sort of like the smithy right here,” Will pointed out, as if reading Jack’s thoughts. “Except, no work to get done.”
They talked like this for a while, falling into an easy conversation about their impending voyage and the route they would take toward the African coast. Jack turned toward the other man, pulling his knee up to rest more comfortably, while explaining this part. Then Will mentioned some of the things he might like to stop and show Elizabeth, if they had time and means, and Jack watched him speak, animated and eager. Firelight reflected from the deep brown pools of Will’s eyes, and streaks of sun-lightened hair shone in the fire’s glow. Jack sipped his rum.
Bill, my god in heaven, he’s perfect. Gorgeous and mannered, and strong and vulnerable all at once, and apparently amenable to dissolute old buccaneers staring ‘til the world looks level at all of it, with the most unsavory thoughts in mind. I never thought to be in love with your only boy, and I can even forgive that he’s got her eyes, because they’re so lovely when they look at me that way. Yes, that way-
“What’re you looking at?” The question was fond, as Will certainly knew damn well what Jack was absorbing with his languid, dark gaze.
“Just wishin’ to be closer to you.”
Will glanced around; over time, the place had gotten quieter, and there were only a handful of people in their sight now, absorbed in conversations of their own or becoming champion drinkers. He took Jack’s closest hand and rubbed the knuckles with a thumb. “Like this?”
“Sort of.”
When he lifted Jack’s palm and kissed it, Jack held his breath, even as Will raised his eyes. “I don’t tell you enough how beautiful you are,” he murmured. “How much I’d like to spend some days doing nothing but touching you, and let work go hang itself.”
Jack blinked, surprised, so focused on Will that the serving girl had to shake him by the shoulder to hand him his room key and stick her hand out for coin. He overpaid in a daze, leaving his mug as he stood, not bothering to pretend he wasn’t following as Will led the way up the long stairs and down to the end room on the left.
Hair was loosed, boots pulled free, shirts and breeches shed before Jack backed Will against the room’s hip-high table. “Sit up here,” he directed, moving in as Will scooted onto its scarred top and opened his legs. “You want me?”
Will let his head fall back and offered his throat to his captain. He was so ready; Jack nibbled at that Adam’s apple as he wrapped a hand around the man’s cock, smearing sticky discharge around its shiny, slitted head. For some reason, Will trying to lift one leg and balance his large bare foot against Jack’s hip was the sweetest thing ever, and he moved up to claim the man in a hot, hard kiss as he reached down and cupped his tight balls. They were hard and softly silky, full and substantial in Jack’s calloused grip. As he massaged, Will leaned back, bracing one hand flat on the tabletop and the other on Jack’s shoulder, scrabbling for balance.
It wasn’t right; Jack pulled him up and circled them both toward the bed, getting Will beneath him in a collapse of arms and legs and tongues. He didn’t wait long to slick his fingers with oil and coax them into Will’s eager, relaxed arse, following quickly with his flushed prick. Will arched off the bed as Jack wriggled in. “Like me deep in you?” He rotated his hips. “This?”
He made a strangled noise. “Like that, Jack.” He opened his eyes, fiery and unfocused. “Fuck me.”
Jack leaned over, still rammed up inside the man, and licked a stripe from the bottom of his chin to just beneath his nose. “Rather make love t’ you,” he whispered.
“Oh.” Will’s arms looped around his shoulders, and he drew a knee high to accommodate Jack. “Oh. Didn’t think you liked-“
Jack ducked his head. “Will, this is you. And me. Alone. We can admit a lot, like this.”
In the twinkle of an eye, Will had Jack rolled to his side, ankle still hooked around the back of his thigh. “Then, admit to me how long you’ve wanted this,” he pressed. “Tell me again.”
“Long time,” Jack answered.
Will shook his head. “Tell me how many whores you had after I came on board to be one of your crew.”
“None.” Jack blushed; the oddest reaction.
“Because you wanted me.” He stroked Jack’s hair back. “Why? You could imagine their warm flesh was mine, the noises your rentboy made was me …”
“Nobody else is you.” He was utterly honest. “You’re … like nobody I know.”
Will eased more into Jack’s arms. “Keep talking, you’ll have me forever,” he grinned, kissing Jack’s chin. “Don’t stop now.”
He thrust a few times, then forced Will to his back, tasting his neck. Jack’s hips were a slow, careful rhythm, pausing only to shift as he propped himself higher to look down on the other man. Will smiled faintly, dark amber eyes locked on Jack’s. His head jerked along the pillow, sliding back and forth with each of Jack’s thrusts, curls brushing his bare shoulders in erratic rhythm. He pumped faster, loving the muscular ring of Will’s sheath on his cock. “You have no shame,” he managed, panting. “Thank God.”
“Corruptor … of innocents.” This, Will moaned back at him. “Dissolute, sex-mad scoundrel.”
“Ah … you noticed.” They both laughed shallowly, breathlessly. He leaned closer. “Wonder who was in this bed ‘fore us?”
“Hope they stripped th’ sheets.”
“Oh, no, no, love,” Jack purred, his long, lean body a smooth piston now. “No … can’t ye smell th’ sex? Hear ‘em like us, so needy with heat an’ frustration?” Will shook his head as if in distaste, but his eyes were huge, pupils blown with desire, lips parted to suck and push out breath. “Wonder if whoever ‘twas got fucked hard as you, right down into th’ goddamn mattress.”
Will’s hands curved up behind his shoulders, gripping tightly. “Arsehole,” he hissed accusingly.
“An’ quite a nice one you have there, pet.”
“Jack-“ He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth. “Jack, oh FUCK, harder.”
Will was clutching Jack, and Jack was fucking Will, and nothing would’ve convinced the captain to be anywhere else at that very moment, no matter how much swag or years of deserved revenge was involved. All the times he’d watched Will from a distance, all the times he’d tried not to be obvious about staring, all the times he had to force himself to speak to Will the same as he’d talk to any other crew member, boiled down to moments like this.
Impatiently, Will growled, stopped them, and rolled Jack to his back. “Said harder!” he groaned, on his knees.
Jack used Will to pull himself up, then pulled at each of the man’s long legs until they were unfolded, practically wrapped around Jack. Gripping Will’s thighs tightly, he tugged as he thrust, neither particularly easy to do in this position. Will rearranged his feet flat on the bed, knees bent, to help.
They rocked somewhat awkwardly, Jack ignoring the smith’s extra weight on him. He was stronger than he appeared, and besides, it was worth a lot to be able to wrap his arms around Will while they fucked, to lick his neck or the corner of his gritted jaw while using one hand to fist the man’s prick. “Feels grand, doesn’ it?” Jack gasped.
“Mmmmmm,” Will agreed, breathing ragged.
Jack was always careful to keep as much bodily contact with Will during lovemaking as possible. The smith had explained one night, nearly asleep and too exhausted to be anything but honest, that after Siobhan took ill, she’d refused her son’s hugs for fear of infecting him. Nobody else, save Elizabeth, had shown him the least physical affection for several years after, not until Jack’s fleeting, occasional invasions of his personal space. He knew Will was starved for touch, and Jack himself hadn’t known a gentle one for quite a long time before Will took him to bed - or pallet, as the case may be.
Working his clean hand into Will’s wavy hair after they both spent and tumbled to the pillows, Jack angled his head for what turned out to be a long, desperate kiss. Eyes still closed, he murmured against his lips, “I love you.” Will nodded quickly, arms wrapped around Jack. “Ye miss it around here?”
“No.” He kissed Jack again, up on his nose, then moved higher, between his eyes. “Not like I’d miss Pearl … and you …” He kissed Jack’s right eyelid. “And this.” Left eyelid next.
When he pulled back, Jack opened his eyes; Will was watching him fondly, brown gaze soft with emotions Jack had once upon a time associated with Elizabeth. He knew, then, that he’d managed to cross that rocky barrier. Will would now steal ships and die for him … and it was as heady as it was frightening.
But then again, Jack had been ready to do that for Will anytime.
On to Part 6 ...