Ficlet - Of Mice and Men (J/W, 2/3)
They sailed up the Thames on a glorious Easter morn, the pealing of church bells accompanying them as they made their way towards the open sea. The faint whiff of sea on the morning breeze whisked away all the dark emotions of the previous days, cleansing them, the salty air welcoming them home.
True to his word, Michel had been at the docks promptly at six to help load the special supplies Jack had ordered onto the Flying Pearl.
A bushel of fresh oysters on ice. A case of rum and a crate of limes. A cage of live lobsters for the boat’s live well. Freshly baked bread, a basket of the finest tropical fruits. Crates and boxes filled with other items, all essential to the perfection of the outing planned.
The final items to be stowed aboard were the new clothes - the white linen suits and matching Panama hats, the colorful flowered shirts so popular in the islands. The thick terry towels and robes.
Jack had plotted their course meticulously, making sure they had ample time to reach their destination before the sun set. For Will, he didn’t care where they were going, it just felt so wonderful to be at sea once again, alone, with Jack, not a care in the world.
They had talked long into the night, making love with a new intensity, each of them needing the reassurance and affirmation of each other. Now, despite the lack of sleep, both Jack and Will felt more alive than they had in ages. Risen, reborn, renewed.
Jack and Will handled the boat and sails fluidly, side by side, as long ago, each of them instinctively knowing what needed to be done, no words needed.
“Reminds me of the time we sailed to Tortuga,” Jack said, as they settled into a steady course, the light breeze filling the sails.
Will smiled, it seemed like another lifetime, another world. But not another Jack. He glanced fondly over at Jack, legs braced, hair whipping in the wind. If he squinted, Will could just make out the Captain Jack Sparrow of old, even without the tricorn hat and jangling trinkets.
“You taught me something important,” Will mused, joining Jack at the wheel, wrapping an affectionate arm around his shoulders.
“What’s that? How to sail?”
Will laughed. “I already knew how to sail, remember? I worked on ships for passage to the West Indies.”
“Right. So what then?” Jack leaned in for a kiss, lingering longer, savoring the moment.
“You told me, quite ceremoniously, after you knocked me off the ship…”
“There’s what a man can do and what a man can’t,” Jack finished. “
“Exactly.”
“You taught me a thing or two yourself, you know,” Jack said.
“Really? Do share.”
“Let’s see, it might be, ‘Never judge a book by its cover’, or perhaps, ‘Actions speak louder than words’.”
Will smiled and wrapped his arms around Jack, pulling him closer to where he could whisper in his ear, “Let’s not forget, ‘Blessing in disguise’.”
Jack whispered back, “Never, darling. Lesson learned. Noted. Memorized.”
---
“So where are we going?” Will finally asked, as Jack consulted his compass and adjusted course.
“I thought we’d anchor in a secluded cove I know. Should have the place to ourselves, what with this weather.”
Will had to agree, for even though the sky was clear and the sun bright, the temperatures had not warmed enough for the holiday day-trippers to seek out the seaside.
They sailed throughout the day, taking turns at the helm. The weather held, the seas remained calm and the voyage was nothing but spectacular. If Will hadn’t known better, he’d wouldn’t have put it past Jack to make a deal with the sea goddess herself, to make this the perfect day.
The sun was low on the horizon when they reached their destination, anchoring in the deeper waters of the cove. Jack set about loading the dinghy with the supplies he wanted to bring ashore, including an armful of blankets.
They rowed ashore, pulling the boat up onto the sand beyond the water’s edge. While Will went to scrounge up some wood for the fire, Jack set up the feast. Spreading several of the blankets out on the sand, he set up a makeshift table with one of the crates, upon which he set an empty wicker wine bottle holding a candle. A pot filled with water would soon be bubbling on the fire for the lobsters, a wet burlap sack would steam the oysters. A crock of butter, a tin of crackers, a bottle of hot sauce, a loaf of bread. All that was missing was… Will.
A flutter of concern passed through Jack’s mind and he turned to set off down the beach in the direction he’d seen Will take, only to relax as he saw Will striding over the ridge, carrying a handful of damp kindling.
“Sorry Jack, I couldn’t find anything better. Seems the whole island is wet.”
Jack grinned, waving his hand at the preparations he’d made, including the stack of dry wood, just waiting to be ignited.
“What the…?” Will started to say, but was hushed by Jack’s lips on his.
“Wanted to surprise you. Had to get you away some how.” He led Will to the edge of the fire and reaching down, lit the dry kindling with his lighter, fanning the flames until they caught the bigger wood and began to burn brightly.
“Now, my darling, we have the entire night at our disposal. No jobs to worry about, no phones to answer, no worries. Just you and me, love. What say you to that?”
Will snuggled Jack closer, running his hands under Jack’s shirt, seeking warm flesh. “I say we go with lesson number two, ‘Actions speak louder than words.’ Agree?”
“Mister Turner, I’d say we have an accord.”
----
Jack was sitting cross-legged, wielded a small mallet as he cracked open the steaming lobsters, dipping the succulent meat into the crock of melted butter, before feeding them to Will. Chin dripping with butter Will insisted he was too full to take another bite, but couldn’t resist the temptation of those elegant, slippery fingers as they slipped yet another morsel between his lips.
Will, not to be out done, in return used his knife to pry open the steamed oysters, adding a squeeze of lime and a dash of hot sauce, before holding them to Jack's mouth.
“You know, Will,” Jack said, cupping his hand around Will’s and slowly slurping the oyster offered. “In many cultures, these delicacies of the sea are considered to be aphrodisiacs.”
“Is that so,” Will murmured, suckling Jack’s buttery fingers, one at a time.
They lingered over their feast, feeding each other and sharing several bottles of wine.
Jack sighed contentedly and leaned back so his head was resting against Will’s chest. The sea breeze was cold, despite the blazing fire, and Will had wrapped both of them in the heavy fleece blanket, forming a cozy nest.
Jack, his lips still shiny from the butter indulged in with the delicious lobsters, snuggled in closer to Will, wrapping them tightly under their heap of blankets. Hiding from the cold with his present company was one of his favourite activities, especially when said company hauled him in his arms and onto his lap, turning the lean man so that he could see his face.
The evening had darkened rapidly, leaving them under the added blanket of the stars above, shining brightly in the crisp English night of April, winking, as if in full cooperation with Jack’s successful day of outing with his lover.
“Not quite like Havana,” Will grinned affectionately, leaning his head back on Jack’s arm wrapping around his neck.
“Not quite. You’re wearing much too much clothes.” He wriggled around, trying to find a comfortable position, but only ended up upending them both. Cushioned by the heavy covers, both the men laughed softly at the mishap, both resulting that this was indeed the preferred stance for the moment.
The gleam on Jack’s lips was rivaled by the one his eyes were shining with in the fleeting second it took for Will to capture those lips with his own, savoring the salt coming not only from their feast, but the sea air, and the tang which was naturally Jack - a combination which never failed to make Will’s head spin, always leaving him craving more.
The kiss added itself to their memories with its tenderness, the lingering, soft touch the men tasted each other, eyes closed, noses brushing, until tongues met to enhance the invigorating feel of the other being where they belonged.
Jack parted from the kiss, eyes still closed, sighing deeply with a wide, content smile, and shuffled to lay half on top of Will.
Without words, Jack told Will how much he loved seeing him like this - tousled by the wind, the white light of the stars contrasting Will’s face to highlight his cheekbones, his nose, chin, his lips dark and darkened by their kiss. The sight which tugged Jack’s heart cords the very first night on the Interceptor an eternity ago.
“Is that the Taurus?” Will attempted humoured nonchalance under the scrutiny, earning Jack to chuckle and pull the blanket over their heads with his cold nose pressing against Will’s cheek.
A short trail of kisses to Will’s ear and a ”I don’t know” rumbled in low, electrifying tones directly down Will’s spine. Jack continued in secretive whispers, “But whatever terrible beast it might be, we best stay here, lay low, until it passes. With much luck, we might be undetected.”
The hair standing up in the back of Will’s neck was not from the cold, and the squirming against Jack, together with the small whimper emanating from him was unstoppable, even if he’d tried.
“Shh, love, it might hear us.” To prevent further danger, Jack made the quick decision to muffle the rest of the sounds with his mouth, failing miserably as Will tugged on Jack’s shirt and delved his hands under the cloth, tentatively brushing the cool tips of his fingers below Jack’s shoulder blades.
“I was thinking,” Jack drawled with a moan of his own, “we could, if you so wish, sleep right here, on this beach.”
Will smiled, seeking Jack’s lips in the warming, enveloping darkness. “You think I'll let you sleep?”
****
Part 3
True to his word, Michel had been at the docks promptly at six to help load the special supplies Jack had ordered onto the Flying Pearl.
A bushel of fresh oysters on ice. A case of rum and a crate of limes. A cage of live lobsters for the boat’s live well. Freshly baked bread, a basket of the finest tropical fruits. Crates and boxes filled with other items, all essential to the perfection of the outing planned.
The final items to be stowed aboard were the new clothes - the white linen suits and matching Panama hats, the colorful flowered shirts so popular in the islands. The thick terry towels and robes.
Jack had plotted their course meticulously, making sure they had ample time to reach their destination before the sun set. For Will, he didn’t care where they were going, it just felt so wonderful to be at sea once again, alone, with Jack, not a care in the world.
They had talked long into the night, making love with a new intensity, each of them needing the reassurance and affirmation of each other. Now, despite the lack of sleep, both Jack and Will felt more alive than they had in ages. Risen, reborn, renewed.
Jack and Will handled the boat and sails fluidly, side by side, as long ago, each of them instinctively knowing what needed to be done, no words needed.
“Reminds me of the time we sailed to Tortuga,” Jack said, as they settled into a steady course, the light breeze filling the sails.
Will smiled, it seemed like another lifetime, another world. But not another Jack. He glanced fondly over at Jack, legs braced, hair whipping in the wind. If he squinted, Will could just make out the Captain Jack Sparrow of old, even without the tricorn hat and jangling trinkets.
“You taught me something important,” Will mused, joining Jack at the wheel, wrapping an affectionate arm around his shoulders.
“What’s that? How to sail?”
Will laughed. “I already knew how to sail, remember? I worked on ships for passage to the West Indies.”
“Right. So what then?” Jack leaned in for a kiss, lingering longer, savoring the moment.
“You told me, quite ceremoniously, after you knocked me off the ship…”
“There’s what a man can do and what a man can’t,” Jack finished. “
“Exactly.”
“You taught me a thing or two yourself, you know,” Jack said.
“Really? Do share.”
“Let’s see, it might be, ‘Never judge a book by its cover’, or perhaps, ‘Actions speak louder than words’.”
Will smiled and wrapped his arms around Jack, pulling him closer to where he could whisper in his ear, “Let’s not forget, ‘Blessing in disguise’.”
Jack whispered back, “Never, darling. Lesson learned. Noted. Memorized.”
---
“So where are we going?” Will finally asked, as Jack consulted his compass and adjusted course.
“I thought we’d anchor in a secluded cove I know. Should have the place to ourselves, what with this weather.”
Will had to agree, for even though the sky was clear and the sun bright, the temperatures had not warmed enough for the holiday day-trippers to seek out the seaside.
They sailed throughout the day, taking turns at the helm. The weather held, the seas remained calm and the voyage was nothing but spectacular. If Will hadn’t known better, he’d wouldn’t have put it past Jack to make a deal with the sea goddess herself, to make this the perfect day.
The sun was low on the horizon when they reached their destination, anchoring in the deeper waters of the cove. Jack set about loading the dinghy with the supplies he wanted to bring ashore, including an armful of blankets.
They rowed ashore, pulling the boat up onto the sand beyond the water’s edge. While Will went to scrounge up some wood for the fire, Jack set up the feast. Spreading several of the blankets out on the sand, he set up a makeshift table with one of the crates, upon which he set an empty wicker wine bottle holding a candle. A pot filled with water would soon be bubbling on the fire for the lobsters, a wet burlap sack would steam the oysters. A crock of butter, a tin of crackers, a bottle of hot sauce, a loaf of bread. All that was missing was… Will.
A flutter of concern passed through Jack’s mind and he turned to set off down the beach in the direction he’d seen Will take, only to relax as he saw Will striding over the ridge, carrying a handful of damp kindling.
“Sorry Jack, I couldn’t find anything better. Seems the whole island is wet.”
Jack grinned, waving his hand at the preparations he’d made, including the stack of dry wood, just waiting to be ignited.
“What the…?” Will started to say, but was hushed by Jack’s lips on his.
“Wanted to surprise you. Had to get you away some how.” He led Will to the edge of the fire and reaching down, lit the dry kindling with his lighter, fanning the flames until they caught the bigger wood and began to burn brightly.
“Now, my darling, we have the entire night at our disposal. No jobs to worry about, no phones to answer, no worries. Just you and me, love. What say you to that?”
Will snuggled Jack closer, running his hands under Jack’s shirt, seeking warm flesh. “I say we go with lesson number two, ‘Actions speak louder than words.’ Agree?”
“Mister Turner, I’d say we have an accord.”
----
Jack was sitting cross-legged, wielded a small mallet as he cracked open the steaming lobsters, dipping the succulent meat into the crock of melted butter, before feeding them to Will. Chin dripping with butter Will insisted he was too full to take another bite, but couldn’t resist the temptation of those elegant, slippery fingers as they slipped yet another morsel between his lips.
Will, not to be out done, in return used his knife to pry open the steamed oysters, adding a squeeze of lime and a dash of hot sauce, before holding them to Jack's mouth.
“You know, Will,” Jack said, cupping his hand around Will’s and slowly slurping the oyster offered. “In many cultures, these delicacies of the sea are considered to be aphrodisiacs.”
“Is that so,” Will murmured, suckling Jack’s buttery fingers, one at a time.
They lingered over their feast, feeding each other and sharing several bottles of wine.
Jack sighed contentedly and leaned back so his head was resting against Will’s chest. The sea breeze was cold, despite the blazing fire, and Will had wrapped both of them in the heavy fleece blanket, forming a cozy nest.
Jack, his lips still shiny from the butter indulged in with the delicious lobsters, snuggled in closer to Will, wrapping them tightly under their heap of blankets. Hiding from the cold with his present company was one of his favourite activities, especially when said company hauled him in his arms and onto his lap, turning the lean man so that he could see his face.
The evening had darkened rapidly, leaving them under the added blanket of the stars above, shining brightly in the crisp English night of April, winking, as if in full cooperation with Jack’s successful day of outing with his lover.
“Not quite like Havana,” Will grinned affectionately, leaning his head back on Jack’s arm wrapping around his neck.
“Not quite. You’re wearing much too much clothes.” He wriggled around, trying to find a comfortable position, but only ended up upending them both. Cushioned by the heavy covers, both the men laughed softly at the mishap, both resulting that this was indeed the preferred stance for the moment.
The gleam on Jack’s lips was rivaled by the one his eyes were shining with in the fleeting second it took for Will to capture those lips with his own, savoring the salt coming not only from their feast, but the sea air, and the tang which was naturally Jack - a combination which never failed to make Will’s head spin, always leaving him craving more.
The kiss added itself to their memories with its tenderness, the lingering, soft touch the men tasted each other, eyes closed, noses brushing, until tongues met to enhance the invigorating feel of the other being where they belonged.
Jack parted from the kiss, eyes still closed, sighing deeply with a wide, content smile, and shuffled to lay half on top of Will.
Without words, Jack told Will how much he loved seeing him like this - tousled by the wind, the white light of the stars contrasting Will’s face to highlight his cheekbones, his nose, chin, his lips dark and darkened by their kiss. The sight which tugged Jack’s heart cords the very first night on the Interceptor an eternity ago.
“Is that the Taurus?” Will attempted humoured nonchalance under the scrutiny, earning Jack to chuckle and pull the blanket over their heads with his cold nose pressing against Will’s cheek.
A short trail of kisses to Will’s ear and a ”I don’t know” rumbled in low, electrifying tones directly down Will’s spine. Jack continued in secretive whispers, “But whatever terrible beast it might be, we best stay here, lay low, until it passes. With much luck, we might be undetected.”
The hair standing up in the back of Will’s neck was not from the cold, and the squirming against Jack, together with the small whimper emanating from him was unstoppable, even if he’d tried.
“Shh, love, it might hear us.” To prevent further danger, Jack made the quick decision to muffle the rest of the sounds with his mouth, failing miserably as Will tugged on Jack’s shirt and delved his hands under the cloth, tentatively brushing the cool tips of his fingers below Jack’s shoulder blades.
“I was thinking,” Jack drawled with a moan of his own, “we could, if you so wish, sleep right here, on this beach.”
Will smiled, seeking Jack’s lips in the warming, enveloping darkness. “You think I'll let you sleep?”
****
Part 3