Parts 26-30

Posted: September to October 2003
Author: Haleth

~~~~~~

The Pirate Way 26 – Day 8 (Rescued)

Captain Jack Sparrow could see the rising sun through his closed eyelids, felt the rays beginning to warm his chilled skin, but saw no reason to open said eyelids.

Will was not talking to him. Not much, at any rate. He was maintaining a safe distance, while still tending Jack's injury and changing bandages but without the little kisses, still preparing whatever food he could manage in spite of low supplies, still gathering firewood and taking care of the camp. But the pants were back on, and there was no sign of them coming off again at any point in the near future.

Jack tried, for a while, to explain. Tried to convince the boy that what he wanted was not dirty or wrong or demeaning. But he had no luck with that. Will claimed he understood that it was something Jack found desirable, but that he had no inclination to participate in such acts and would he please stop talking about it.

Will spend most of the previous day exploring the island, looking for a spring or some source of fresh water. It was not to be found. He returned, hot and sweaty and thoroughly delectable, but with no fresh water. He spent a good deal of the evening staring into the fire and edging away when Jack tried to get close to him. He looked angry, but he wasn't directing to toward Jack.

Jack wished he would. The poor boy looked miserable, and Jack hated to think he'd caused it. If Will wanted to insult him yell at him, strike him, even, Jack wouldn't mind. If it would only make Will feel better.

Will had every right to be in a bad mood. The fresh water was all but gone. And if Jack were Will he might place at least some of the blame on the ridiculous amounts that had been wasted cleaning Jack's torn shoulder. Jack wished his shoulder had been left to fester. Then Will might not be licking those chapped lips with a less than fully hydrated tongue. If he'd left the wound alone, Will would still have a shirt to protect him from the sun. Maybe Jack would even be dead, and then Will might be happy.

Blame me, he thought. Go ahead, I can handle it. As long as you let me handle you again, some day.

He tried desperately to imagine what was going through Will's mind.

All right, the boy was a virgin, that much was obvious. And Jack was definitely the only man he'd ever been with. The only woman he'd ever been with had thrown herself at him so shockingly - well, that experience was no help at all. And the boy had been so surprised, he must have never conceived of anal sex in any way at all. For him a bum was for sitting on and shitting out of, and nothing else at all.

Jack must have scared him half to death! And if he really really tried, he could understand that someone inexperienced, such as Will, might think it inappropriate to go ahead and touch some else's arse, unexpected like.

The logic fell apart there. How could he not want his arse touched like that? They touched each other everywhere else.

Will didn't mind having his nipples touched. In fact, he quite liked it, and purred wonderfully when Jack gave them a little nip, just with the dull edge of his teeth, not hard enough to hurt. Just enough to make the lovely dusky little bump grow nice and hard.

Will certainly didn't object to having his cock touched. Or licked. Or suckled on. The taste of Will's semen flooded Jack's mind. No, he didn't object to that at all, any more.

And he didn't object to having his bollocks fondled or nuzzled or kissed, once he got used to it.

Ah, there's the rub. He just had to get used to the idea. Jack smiled to himself as he lay in the light of the rising sun. It was only a matter of time, and then he would teach Will how wonderful it feels to have someone, someone who knows what they are doing, touch his arse properly, with respect and dignity. And passion.

Then Jack would give Will a real treat. He would pet him gently at first, prodding the little hole open with care, run the pad of his finger around the puckered skin, until Will was itching for more. He'd have to find some kind of lubricant; maybe a bit of the oil he used to sharpen knives.

Jack's cock started to harden and grow as he imagined how tight the virgin arsehole would feel when he pushed his finger inside for the first time. How Will would tremble beneath him, vulnerable but oh so trusting. He would look up at Jack with those wide brown eyes, silently begging him to proceed but be careful. Delicious.

Jack would be cautious, slowly penetrating the lad until the smooth walls closed around his finger, and Will's cock twitched that way it did when it was just about to start leaking. Jack would lick the tip of his cock, press his lips reverently against Will's flat stomach to feel the fluttering under his mouth. Then he would ever so slightly curl his finger, find that elusive bulge and stroke it softly. Then Will would understand. He would be begging for it.

Something blocked the sun, and Jack hesitated to open his eyes. He didn't really want to open them, to see Will standing there wearing only those damned trousers, naked broad chest gleaming in the morning sun. He didn't want to have to explain why he was lying there smiling with his cock straining to escape the confines of his own trousers.

Someone cleared his throat. It wasn't Jack, so Will must have been trying to get his attention.

Jack let his eyelids slide up slowly. He did not see luxuriant soft curls falling to broad, proud shoulders; he saw somewhat stiff short dreadlocks sticking in every which direction. And he did not see slick, smooth honey-toned skin; it was more of a rich coffee colour. And he was not gazing upon rosy peaked nipples on sculpted pectorals. This chest was most definitely covered in a thick black shirt. And the delicious hollow at the base of Will's long throat, where sweat pooled so tastily, was nowhere in sight. This neck was covered by a stiff white collar.

"Ah, Captain Sparrow. How good of you to join us." This voice was deep and booming, none of that maddeningly soft throatiness Will was so very adept at. This was the voice of a preacher. "I'm here to deliver you to your sanctuary."

What was that, some kind of priest code for throwing him in the brig? He saw a small, well-maintained ship floating offshore with blindingly white sails. Then he saw Will, gathering up their meagre belongings, wearing an equally blinding white shirt, a little short in the arms and snug in the chest. So the preacher had convinced Will to be on his side.

The preacher extended a hand to help Jack up. Jack flinched from the contact, eliciting a low chuckle from the man in the collar. "If you can't trust a man of the cloth, who do you think you can trust, Captain?"

Jack shrugged.

"Don't fear me, man, I'm here to help. We're heading to an island not far from here, to the homestead of Sister Kay, where the two of you can rest and recuperate from your ordeals."

"Sister Kay? You're taking us to a convent?"

The chuckle turned into a rumbling laugh. "No, my good man, I don't think Kay would appreciate the comparison to a nun. She's a happily married woman with many children. But she'll give you a clean bed, hearty food and the time you need to regain your strength."

Jack allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "And why would she do such a thing for a pair of miscreants such as ourselves?"

"Miscreants? Lord, oh lord, such a low opinion of yourself. We are all brothers and sisters, and must help each other as God loves all his children."

Jack lost interest. Religion held no fascination for him, even if it did mean he would be the recipient of some much-needed charity.

He looked up to see Will haul the neatly folded canvas, their tent, to a little rowboat on the shore. He seemed perfectly calm, perfectly at ease with the changing situation, perfectly perfect, as always. Jack sighed.

The preacher looked over at the blacksmith. "Yes, I can see what you like in the boy. He's quite delightful." The preacher's lips made a little pursing move, as if savouring the air, when Will bent over the boat. "Most delightful."

Jack's eyebrow rose to the point of disappearing under his headscarf, bringing on more of the rumbling laughter. "And exactly what in the blazes kind of a preacher are you?"

And who did he think he was, making suggestive comments about Will Turner?

The preacher adjusted his collar with a rueful look on his handsome face. He was young, for a man of the cloth, with smooth skin and a really quite lovely face, all pretty lips and large black eyes and finely shaped eyebrows. He looked disturbingly familiar, but Jack couldn't place him.

"I," said the man, "Am the kind of preacher who is rejected by the church for not being the exact kind of preacher they want. I am, as it were, an independent. Just me and my ship, and whatever good deeds I can perform to make this world a little more of a heaven on earth."

Jack stared at him, slack-jawed. A rebel vicar?

"And it would be in order for me to introduce myself." He held out his hand. "I am the former Reverend Alphonse DeMaurier, now humbly referred to as Brother Alphonse."

Jack's head spun. "Alphonse. DeMaurier?"

"Yes, my sister asked me to retrieve you. Seems that a certain Commodore has been tracking your ship's every move, and Anamaria did not want to lead him to you. She managed to get a message to me, and I came as soon as possible. I was not about to see my new step-brother come to any harm." He smiled fondly at Will. "Nor his lover."

Could it be that Jack felt a blush creep into his cheeks? He hoped his rather messy hair and untrimmed beard would hide it.

"That might, in light of recent events, be somewhat of an exaggeration," he muttered.

"On the contrary, Captain Sparrow. The boy and I had quite a talk when I landed. Seems you vexed him something fierce, but I explained a few things to him for you. He's a little bashful Give him time, dear Captain, and he'll warm back up to you."

Jack was once again staring, but the good Brother paid no heed. He busied himself picking up the last few things around the camp and making sure the fire was properly extinguished. Jack pulled on his almost shredded shirt. He winced as he pulled it over his shoulder, and Brother Alphonse helped him with his vest and belt. They trudged down to the water's edge, where Will waited at the boat.

Jack didn't know what to say to Will, although he was rather curious as to how much detail the boy had gone into. Whatever he'd said, the preacher was taking it in stride. They rowed out to the ship and were underway shortly, with Jack sitting on a box while Alphonse cleaned his shoulder and smeared a foul smelling but cooling mixture of herbs onto the sore wound.

"You did an admirable job of caring for this," he told Will. "Shows how much you care for our fine Captain, I believe."

Will blushed and looked at Jack from under lowered eyelashes. Perfect, long, thick feathery lashes hovering over warm chocolate eyes. Once Alphonse went off to deal with sailing the ship, Will sat next to Jack.

"Let me help you with your shirt. And here, drink this water. I know you don't like it but you need it. Are you hungry? No, we can eat later. Are you feeling better?" Will asked, a hint of anxiety in his voice.

"Much, thank you." Mostly due to the fact that Will looking at him with those eyes, and talking to him with that voice soft and low, like a caress.

Jack leaned toward Will, and came to rest with his head against Will's shoulder. Will slid his arm around Jack and squeezed lightly. "Imagine, a couple of weeks ago I was all alone, an orphan. Now I have a father, a step-mother, I've met my brother, two of my sisters and we're on our way to meet my third one." Will smiled. "And I have you. What could possibly make me happier?"

Jack kissed Will's neck softly. He kept his mouth shut though. He was reasonably certain that blurting out ‘my cock buried to the hilt in your arse' would spoil the mood. And this was enough for now. The last thing he wanted was the mildly lascivious preacher ogling his step-brother while Jack took him on the deck.

He could wait a little longer.

*****

For a little more background information about Will and Jack, and Will's new family, check out Interlude 2: All Tessie's Children 2

---

Chapter 27 - Anticipation

Now that Captain Jack Sparrow stood on the deck of a ship again, he felt much better than he had in days. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the hospitality of Alphonse's sister, he just preferred the steady motion and security only a ship could offer. It wasn't the Black Pearl. It was smaller than the Pearl. But he could live with that. At least tonight he would get some rest, anchored off the rocky shore of this little island Will's new stepsister called home.

Kay was very nice, he thought to himself. She took him, a notorious pirate, into her home happily. She understood completely when he declined the offer of a bed upstairs. She gave he a place to sleep outdoors, so even if he couldn't feel the ocean under him at least he could smell the breeze coming from the bay. And most of all, she took care of Will.

The boy had lost far too much weight during their time on the island. Jack suspected he'd been giving over the best of the food, but Will wouldn't admit it. And he'd been doing all that running around, taking care of Jack, it made the pirate feel guilty. But when he tried to take the blame he'd been thoroughly hushed by the motherly Kay.

She'd set about fussing over the two of them immediately. First she insisted they strip down so she could properly wash their clothes. Will and Jack sat in the parlour awkwardly, wrapped in sheets, waiting for her to return with a pair of her husband's trousers for Will to wear, and a pair of Alphonse's for Jack. So they spent the better part of the day with Will swimming in trousers far too big, and Jack hoping against all hope they would fall down, and Jack sitting very still in pants a little too tight for comfort. Because, although they did not actually fall, Franklin's trousers hung perilously low on Will's slim hips. And there was that curve, just below the waist, that was begging to be licked, but Jack didn't dare.

Kay spent a good deal of time cleaning and dressing Jack's shoulder wounds, full of praise for Will's careful care of the whole mess, and then her baby cried for her, and that left the two half-dressed men sitting in the kitchen with a pan of warm water, several clean clothes and an uncomfortable silence.

Jack broke the stillness by kneeling down beside Will. "Let me, after all you took such good care of me," he said, taking one of Will's feet in his hands. It was cut in several places, from Will traipsing around the rocky island barefoot searching for fresh water. Jack wrung a cloth in the basin and began to gently clean the wounds. "I wish you hadn't done that."

"What?"

"Sacrificed so much, and not told me how much you were sacrificing. You're so skinny, look at you."

Will turned his head, as if Jack wouldn't be able to see him if he couldn't see Jack. He wasn't hazardously skinny, but his face was more angular, his ribs more visible, his eyes a little sunken. He looked tired.

Jack continued cleaning Will's feet, he couldn't seem to stop even when he was finished. He held one foot in his hand and ran his fingers up, around the ankle, over the heel, underneath, Will squirmed in his chair.

"Stop."

Jack leaned down and placed a single kiss on the instep. Will's foot twitched. But he didn't pull it away.

"I didn't want anything bad to happen to you, that's why I did it. Took care of you." Will reached down to pat Jack's hair. His fingers lingered over Jack's headscarf, on top of the scar Will now knew lay beneath. "You were injured. You could have…"

Jack shrugged, but not enough to dislodge Will's hand. "You too. That was a nasty cut on your head, lad. But we're both alive, we're both relatively healthy, and we can get on with things."

Doubtful. That was the word to describe the look on Will's face. Doubtful.

"Look, mate, we didn't have much time to talk on the way here, what with Alphonse being a constant presence. But I need to tell you," Jack hesitated. He wasn't sure what to tell Will. He wasn't sure what Will wanted to hear.

Will looked down at him sharply, waiting, watching. Eyebrow crease deepening.

Jack gave his most ingratiating smile. "No need to be vexed. I'm only trying to reassure you, like." His words only served to deepen the crease so much that Jack had to take a deep breath to steady himself. "I'm sorry I shocked you, eh. You didn't have to run away, we could have talked about it." Jack bit his lip. He shouldn't make it seem as if he was blaming Will for anything. He should take full responsibility. It was just that he'd never really taken responsibility for his actions before, and was finding it a challenge.

The fingers swept back, stroking through his hair. Jack leaned back into them like a cat. Will was stroking him. On the boat Will had put his arm around him. He'd even slept beside him in the open, pressing against him in the cold early hours. But he hadn't kissed him, or stroked him or any of the other things Jack thought he might die if Will didn't do. And now he was stroking Jack's hair.

"It's not that I don't want you to touch me, Jack." Will sounded so young, voice so soft. "I do. I'm just, well, I don't know if that sort of thing is what I want. And don't ask how I know if I haven't tried it. I know that, but I need some time to think about this. It's all happened so fast, and now I have this family and my father and you and I'm a little," he paused, sighing delightfully, or at least Jack thought so. "I'm a little overwhelmed."

Jack curved his neck just so, and Will's fingers dug deep to touch his scalp. "S'alright, mate. We have time." He let his head drop so he could press his lips to Will's knee. "I promise, on my honour, I will not do anything to you, I will not touch you, in any way you don't want me to. I won't force you to do anything, Will." The coarse trouser material scratched his lips. A muscled jumped in Will's leg when Jack laid his face against it. Will traced a finger along Jack's cheek.

"Your ship will return soon. I expect you'll want to be underway as soon as possible." Will cleared his throat. "Perhaps it's best if we didn't, I mean, if you're going to leave soon."

Jack straightened up abruptly, hands on Will's shoulders. Bare shoulders. Broad, bare shoulders. Hmmm. "Will, luv, I'll not be leaving here without you."

Will looked away again. "I don't know if I want to leave here. I don't know what I want."

Jack moved to kiss his mouth, but Will shied away. Jack settled for kissing his shoulder. That was good too. Not good enough, but it would have to suffice. "I'll be staying until you decide."

But Will had not decided. He was affectionate toward Jack, smiling at him shyly often and letting Jack put an arm around him, but he had not let anything else occur. And Jack was beginning to feel the strain of it.

When Alphonse rowed him out to his ship, Jack did consider taking it. Just sailing away. That's what a pirate would do. That's what Captain Jack Sparrow would do. But as he stood on the ship, the only person on the ship, alone with a ship and the ocean, he could not haul anchor.

He tried to tell himself it was because his shoulder was too sore. He didn't have the strength to pull it up. Then he had to admit it was a different kind of strength entirely that he lacked. He could not sail away from Will.

"This must be a test," he muttered out loud. "They're testing me to see how much of a pirate I am. If I take the ship I'm not good enough for their precious brother."

He swayed as the deck rocked in the waves. His legs relaxed, rolling with the motion, His back straightened, and he gazed out at the sun setting on the clear horizon.

No, Kay sent him out to the ship because this is where he belonged. And it had been such a long time since he'd slept properly. And because it would be easier for him to sleep out here alone than on the veranda, knowing that Will was sleeping alone upstairs.

Jack threw himself down onto the deck to stare up at the darkening sky and think about Will Turner sleeping. He slept with his mouth open a little, features relaxed. Jack had seen it often enough. His hair spread out around his face when he slept, wild curls so soft and fragrant. When it got cold he snuggled close, and he usually slept with his limbs entwined with Jack's, pressing up against him. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Jack had awoken with a lovely hard cock poking his stomach or hip, and Will rubbing against him in his sleep. He missed that terribly.

Jack's hand strayed down to his cock, which had immediately started to stiffen when he pictured Will asleep. When they were alone and naked, it was nothing for Jack's hand to close around Will's cock, to stroke him to full hardness while he still slept, making him purr in his sleep. Once he even had Will's cock deep in his throat before Will woke with a loud groan. Jack tightened his grip on his cock at the memory.

He remembered the time he had woken with Will's fingers stroking him to hardness, the mischievous smile on Will's face, the first time Will had chosen to wake him like that.

"Good morning." Soft low tones made Jack shiver. "I hope you don't mind; it looked as if you needed some attention." God, if only every early morning erection could be resolved by the strong but gentle fingers of Will Turner.

Jack moaned and stroked from base to head, letting his fingertips glide over silken skin. It would never be as good as Will's mouth, but he had to do something. He hadn't touched himself or been touched for days. There were people around, Will and Kay and Alphonse and Franklin, and when they weren't around there were always children to worry about. They popped up everywhere, all the time.

And the temptation of Will was constant. He was working around the property constantly, helping Kay's husband fix things and build things and do all those things Jack had no idea how to do. Although he kept one of Franklin's too-large shirts on at all times, the sleeves were rolled up high, and straining forearms exposed, and the ties at the neck were often undone, so it even drooped off his shoulder at times showing a razorsharp collarbone or even, on one memorable morning, a dusky nipple.

Will went about barefoot most of the time. His shoes were lost when he landed on the beach and spare boots were dear. When working in dangerous areas he borrowed Jack's boots, and when he returned them Jack would put them on immediately, eager to feel Will's warmth in the leather. The rest of the time, Jack was tormented by the sight of shapely ankles and lovely slim toes and the memory of leaning down to kiss the top of Will's foot in what? Affection? Supplication? Love?

Jack reached beneath his shirt to stroke over a nipple. Will loved to suck his nipples, he reminded himself eagerly. He concentrated, trying to recall the sensation of hot, soft lips closing around him. His other hand dipped lower to stroke his balls, to coax them into relieving themselves of their load faster. Jack needed the release desperately. He needed to let go of all this feverish yearning for at least a few seconds. His breath hitched as the aroma of nutmeg and vanilla washed over him.

It was the scent of Will, and it came to him as he approached his climax because it was the only smell he could associate with satisfaction, so he breathed it in deeply and groaned Will's name in both frustration and passion.

"Good Evening, Jack."

Crisp, clean, refined tones. A little too formal for a fantasy. Jack opened one eye, just a crack, to see Will Turner standing on deck beside him.

---

Chapter 28 - It Was The Kohl

Will Turner stood on the deck of his stepbrother's ship, arms crossed over his chest with a vaguely disapproving look marring his face. Captain Jack Sparrow sprawled on his back a few feet away, struggling to shove his obviously and inconveniently erect penis back into his pants and recover at the very least a modicum of dignity from the rather awkward situation.

"I, eh, was under the impression I was all by my onesie," he muttered as he pulled himself to standing. He listed to one side, shifting his slim hips, trying to get his cock to settle in a less torturous position. But the persistent organ refused to calm, and remained pointed almost directly vertical, bent just a little to the left, which gave Jack's body a distinct lean to the right in his attempt to avoid too much pressure on it.

Will didn't know if he should be shocked or flattered. After all, it was Will's name he heard Jack moaning as he climbed on board.

On the other hand, he couldn't stop an old familiar twinge of repulsion at the pirate's lack of self-control and presumption.

If he'd had a third hand, he would have considered how utterly debauched and stunning the pirate had looked as he fisted his hard cock, and how his musky scent filled the air, and how, with his eyes squeezed shut in concentration and Will's name tumbling from his inviting lips, he looked so much like he had so often when they were stranded together.

But he didn't think that. He was very careful NOT to think of that. He schooled his features to show no emotion. Less emotion. Well, somewhat less emotion.

"I came to fetch some salt for Kay." Will's tones were crisp, cutting through the evening air like his sword. "She said Alphonse had some on board."

Jack recalled the small keg Alphonse had grabbed before he rowed back to shore. Come to think of it, the preacher had made quite a show of it, rambling on about pickling spices and Kay's skill with brine of various sorts. Made sure Jack saw him load the cask onto his rowboat. A sly grin played around Jack's lips, curling his moustache up just so.

Set up by the sister. Interesting.

He straightened his trousers a little and leaned against the mast, nonchalant like. "Alphonse already brought it back for her," he drawled, watching Will's response carefully. "Seems he's quite fond of pickles. As am I."

If Will noticed the double entendre he didn't show it. He looked about the deck restlessly, uncertain as to how to proceed.

"Well, it seems I've wasted the trip."

Jack just lounged against the mast, finding a perverse pleasure in Will's discomfort. He'd spent the better part of the week receiving mixed signals of all sorts, having his hopes raised and dashed with such regularity that he thought the only solution would be to get so thoroughly drunk he would become numb. This was like a little revenge, making the lad sweat like that.

He stood watching, watching Will shift back and forth, the toes of his bare feet kneading the weathered planks of the deck, eyes darting, and… wait for it… ah, yes, pink tongue flicking out nervously to wet those luscious lips.

He'd been anticipating that, thus he was able to hold in the moan of appreciation.

"I should head back before it gets too dark, then" Will said suddenly, his voice sounding uncertain.

"Not at all, mate. Have a sit down, make yerself at home." Jack gestured toward the ample space on deck. It was a small ship, but plenty of room for two grown men to sit and socialize. Jack wished it were even smaller, so he'd have an excuse to move closer to Will.

"I don't wish to disturb your…" Will hesitated. So adorable when he hesitated. And not sure where to look. He tried the water, but it was too dark to see anything there, so that looked a bit daft. He looked up, but it was a touch overcast, in spite of the warmth of the evening, so the stars weren't really very visible. Will looked down at his feet. "Your rest."

Was that a little smirk, hiding behind the discomfort? Excellent! Nice to see Will still had some of that spark in him. He'd been so busy being bloody decent, Jack was beginning to think he's reverted to utter propriety and dullness.

No, Will could never be dull. That was an impossibility. Jack gazed at the boy fondly. Far too beautiful to ever be dull. And far too beautiful to be estranged from. He had resolved to do this on the boy's schedule, but his determination was failing him. It was time to tempt fate.

"They sent me out to the ship," His hand stroked the mast fondly, "So I could sleep better. But I'll be honest with you, lad, I can sleep just fine on land if I want to. It's you I've been missing, not the sea."

There. It was out in the open where it belonged.

Will's features softened, and a searing pain or pleasure, Jack couldn't tell which, rippled through his heart. Then Will raised his eyes and looked Jack in the eye for the first time that evening.

What he saw stunned him.

It was the kohl. Jack's eyes were not, as usual, rimmed with the thick, irregular black smudge he'd grown accustomed to. They were lined, almost delicately, with even borders all the way around both lids, dark solid black applied with a delicate and practiced hand. The two lines met at the outer corner with a hint of an upward curve, extending beyond the actual eye. They made Jack's eyes look impossibly wide. Inconceivably dark. Positively feline.

And filled with desire, although it wasn't the kohl that bred the desire in them.

Jack's eyes were burning into Will, raking over his open shirt collar, exposed lower arms, untied hair and blushing cheeks. When they met Will's eyes they saw the astonishment there.

Ah, yes. The sister again. She'd accosted him behind the house, just before suggesting he spend the night on the ship. ‘Let me do your eyes, I love kohl and Franklin hates it when I wear it. It's been ever so long since I've been allowed. Marina taught me how, honest. Just this once, Jack. Indulge me.' Sneaky, disingenuous and thoroughly lovable Will's sister. Clever too.

Jack smiled. "What do you think? Your sister thought she'd ‘ave a go at me with me kohl."

Will just swallowed, aching to get some kind of moisture into his parched throat, and stared into indisputably smouldering feline eyes. "It's very, um, pretty." Pretty? He couldn't think of a better word than pretty? Will was certain he'd just shown himself to be a complete idiot.

Pretty. Jack couldn't remember ever being called pretty. But then, the lad was referring to the kohl, not Jack. He sidled closer to Will, just for the sake of it.

"Well, to tell you the truth, it's a bit fiddly for my taste, but she seemed to think it was rather fetching." He gave one of those winning Jack Sparrow smiles.

"Fetching," Will repeated, dumbly. He couldn't really think well, not with Jack so close to him, the smell of him washing over Will like a tide.

Both men breathed in deeply, tasting the air.

Jack reached out first. He ran one finger through Will's hair, tucking an errant curl behind an ear. His fingertip resonated with something so sweet it hurt.

"Did I ever tell you," he asked, trying to sound casual and failing but not caring, his voice ragged at the edges with need, "How much I love to touch your hair?" He let all his fingers sink into decadent silk strands. "How much I miss touching your hair?"

Either Will's hair had just grown nerve endings, or there was some kind of electricity in the air. Will felt the warmth of Jack's hands before skin touched his tingling scalp.

He was still worried. Still anxious about what Jack really wanted of him. Still unsure about parts of his body he really didn't want to think about. But if he was going to be truly honest, it wasn't that Jack wanted it that made him so nervous. It was the fact that Will wanted it.

He leaned into Jack's touch at the same time his hand shot up to grasp Jack's wrist, pushed his fingers up Jack's arm, felt the papery skin of the pirate brand under them, felt the throbbing of Jack's pulse under the tanned skin.

Will remembered Jack's promise to not force him into anything. What, he wondered, was the word of a pirate really worth?

Jack stopped all movement, even breathing, until he could ascertain whether Will was pushing him away or drawing him near. Such a fine line, he mused. The fingers on his forearm burned. The hair between his fingers was liquid. His own hair on the back of his neck prickled with tension.

Will leaned in and caught Jack's lips with his. Good choice. Except Jack had been holding his breath for so long he had to suck the air out of Will's lungs, but that seemed to draw the lithe body closer to him. Nature abhors a vacuum, which isn't such a bad thing after all.

With his back against the mast, Will plastered against his front, Jack hadn't felt this good in over a week. Fresh air was overrated anyway. He'd take it second-hand from young Mr. Turner any day. Especially when he had to suck it in around that squirming, wriggling tongue. Nutmeg, vanilla and Will.

Will pulled his lips away, but kept his forehead firmly pressed against Jack's, lashes down, mouth open. "Jack," he panted, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so…"

‘No, no, you just kissed me so hard I felt it in my spine, don't be sorry!'

"Inexperienced?" Jack suggested out loud, gently, willing himself to stay calm. "No big to-do, luv, we'll work it all out, eh? Just do what you think you'll enjoy, savvy?"

Will pulled his head back, looking Jack in the eye. What was this, now? Not the shy, inexperienced young virgin. That, Jack would have testified under oath, was a predatory look.

Will slithered down Jack's body, nipping and licking as he went. Jack's pants were still rather open from his earlier activities, and it took no time at all for Will to free his by-now painfully hard cock. He lapped at the tip of it thirstily.

Jesus, that was a fast decision, Jack thought dazedly, sinking his fists into masses of chestnut curls. He raked his fingers through the hair, revelling in the texture, and spread his legs wider, pushing his hips against the mast to keep himself from fucking the boy's mouth. Will's fingers were spread over his thighs, almost digging in, eyes shut in concentration, mouth stretched open to take more of Jack's cock into his hot mouth than he'd ever taken before.

"Will, oh God, you're going to kill me," he moaned as Will's haired bounced around the back of his hands with the pistoning movement of his head. The pressure built so quickly Jack was afraid he would explode. This was too fast, too much at once; he was drunk on it, dizzy from it, weak.

Will slowed his pace, and drew his lips achingly up the thick shaft, letting them trail wetly across velvet skin. His tongue snaked out, tracing around the head. He moaned low, vibrating around the swollen flesh. His hands crept around Jack's legs, until they gripped the hard backs of Jack's thighs, just below his arse. Will licked down the length of Jack's cock, then buried his nose in glossy black curls, breathing in the scent.

Jack took in a shuddering long breath. He brushed soft tresses and they fell maddeningly on his cock, feathery and teasing. He gripped his fingers over the hair, around his cock, dragging silk over his oversensitive skin. Will moaned and looked up at him with lust-darkened eyes. He pushed Jack's hand away and replaced it with his own, latching his lips to the root of Jack's cock while he ran his fingers, entangled in the hair, up and down the shaft. Jack swore he could feel the individual strands scraping across his skin, sliding and skittering over the sheath as it glided over the iron beneath it.

Jack's mouth fell open, his mind overloaded by the sensations and images. He gasped Will's name as he felt his bollocks clench like a fist. His cock pulsed and hot white cream flooded into the rich brown locks. Will continued caressing his cock with his hand and hair and lips and tongue until it finally quieted, then Jack slid down the mast and into Will's arms.

He pushed the sodden curls away from Will's flushed face. Will straddled him, sitting back on his thighs so as not to crush his tender sex. He kissed Jack's forehead gently through his scarf. Jack couldn't stop his fingers from wandering down to the substantial bulge in the front of Will's trousers.

"So I suppose I'm forgiven enough to be trusted to do something about this, then, eh?"

---

Chapter 29 - Until The Sun Rises

Captain Jack Sparrow was off dry land, had a lap full of panting, wickedly-grinning Will Turner, his fingers caressed the substantial erection belonging to Will, his head was still spinning from the intensity of his own orgasm, and that orgasm had terminated in Will's sweet hot mouth. Things could hardly get any better.

Then Will crossed his arms, grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled the loose garment up over his head.

So things could get better. Interesting. He felt the urge to test what must be the limits to this fantastical night. How far could he push this vision before it vanished before his eyes?

"Pants," he rasped, and then the delicious weight on his thighs disappeared so he shut his eyes fast, no wanting to see that the whole experience was all only a hallucination brought on by an extremely effective bout of masturbation. But the spicy vanilla scent was still in the air. And he could taste himself, mixed with the taste of Will, when he ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth. He opened his eyes and groaned.

Will was still standing, after tossing his trousers to one side, with one foot on either side of Jack's legs. Long, lean legs tensed hard with desire. Long, not quite so lean cock tensed even tighter. His hands were resting on the top of his thighs, and Jack could tell he was forcing them to stay relaxed, unclenched.

Jack felt guilty. Will was working so hard to be comfortable with this, to not let on how nervous he was, and Jack was just sitting there with his back to the mast, boneless and satiated. Oh, the unjustness of the situation. It would have to be rectified immediately.

He pushed himself off the mast and sat up, bringing himself eye level with two very heavy, and most delightfully furry and tempting balls. He sighed and strained his nose upward, to bury it in brown curls, brought his lips to Will's scrotum and gently sucked a bollock into his mouth.

The noise Will let out was less of a purr than it was a howl. Jack looked up quickly to see Will's head tilted right back, and to feel fingers clench in his hair. He sucked gently, and rolled the bollock in his mouth. Soft hair tickled his lips. Will's cock jerked so hard it bounced against his forehead. He reached up to wrap his hand around the straining organ.

How could he've thought things could not get better when he had not yet done this?

Will's thighs were quaking, hard as steel under Jack's other hand. Unfair, again. He pulled his mouth away from Will, who squeaked in dismay, and pulled the boy down to his lap again.

Will was shaking all over by the time his settled back down on Jack's lap. Jack ran his hands up and down Will's thighs, hoping to calm him, kissed him tenderly. Will's eyes were wide and wet, shining in the dim light from the rising moon. "Shh, lad, you've got a bit over-excited there, eh?" He tried to be soothing, comforting.

Will pushed his head forward and thrust his tongue between Jack's lips. The time for talk was not the present; Jack could see that.

He wrapped his arms around Will and pulled him close, sucking the tongue deeper into his mouth. Will started bouncing on his lap, hard cock slapping against Jack's. And, god, the purrs coming from his throat. Jack was hard again already. Jack couldn't help but worry that the lad would kill him, but he wouldn't let it get in the way of having a good time.

Jack deftly flipped Will over onto his back, legs spread wide and Jack between them. Ideal. It took a moment to get his legs sorted out from the mast, but once he was sure of the location of all his extremities he leaned over Will's body and licked a path down his sweating, quivering torso to his cock.

Whose cock? ‘My cock,' Jack said to himself as he lapped at the pearly fluid leaking from the slit. ‘Mine to taste, and suck, and fondle and love…' He teased the little slit with the tip of his tongue, but only for a second or two, because Will jerked his hips up and Jack found himself with a mouthful of Will Turner.

‘Hmm, my favourite mouthful.'

Will was thrashing around on the deck he was so desperate for relief. It had been far, far too long since this had happened. And he freely admitted he wanted it more than anything else. Jack's lips formed a tight seal just above the base of his cock, and when he looked down to see Jack hollow his cheeks and suck he honestly thought he might die. He couldn't imagine anything better.

But then, he had thought only a few minutes before that nothing could be better than Jack's mouth on his bollocks. So he had to admit there was always room for improvement. Unfortunately, this particular improvement had caused him to lose control of most of his body. He felt a nagging dismay when he felt his legs move, lift over Jack's shoulders, bend so his ankles crossed on top of Jack's back. That couldn't be very comfortable for Jack.

But Jack's arms came up and hugged his legs, pressing thighs even tighter against his ears, and he took Will's cock further into his mouth. Will couldn't imagine how Jack was fitting all that cock in his mouth until he felt Jack's throat muscles constricting around his swollen head.

He swore, loudly and profusely, appalled at his own language. Jack would have been proud, but he couldn't hear a word with Will's thighs covering his ears like that. He closed his eyes, bringing kohl enhanced lashes tight together. It wasn't that he didn't want to look at Will, he loved to look at Will and would be happy to look at Will every day for the rest of his life. But he wanted to intensify this moment. He wanted to sense nothing but Will's cock in his mouth and throat, and Will's lean thighs wrapped so so tight around his head. Heels digging into his back. That would hurt later, but later didn't matter. He could smell nothing but Will, taste nothing but Will, feel nothing but Will, hear nothing but his own blood rushing through his veins and, he imagined, Will's doing the same. No, it wasn't imaginary; he could hear Will's blood, hear his heart thumping wildly.

The vein on the underside of Will's cock throbbed under the flat of his tongue. The whole organ grew harder and impossibly larger. Those lovely bollocks tightened up, against his chin. Jack sucked as hard as he could and drew the first pulse of heavenly release right down his throat. Will twisted violently to one side but Jack kept his grip on the lithe thighs, kept his nose buried in those delectable curls. He continued to suck, disappointed that he couldn't fully taste the rich fluid oozing down his throat, but determined to give Will something he'd never had before. He eased up the pressure a little, as the contractions in the organ slowed and lessened, but kept a mild suction at all times.

Will's thighs relaxed and he removed his hands, letting the long limbs fall to either side. Still suckling lightly, he stroked Will's inner thighs, where the hair was shorter, more wiry than on the rest of his legs, the skin soft and pale. Wills softened in his mouth, the head retracting beneath he foreskin, the length diminishing. Jack kept suckling.

He swirled his tongue around the tip, nudging folds of skin, pressing down on the head. With Will's legs splayed out like that he could hear clearly, ragged gasps and sighs, the air catching in his throat every few breaths, almost like a sob but very much no so. Will's arms lay limply on the ground, every muscle relaxed. Every part of him quiet and satisfied.

It would have been too much, except Jack knew there was more.

Then Will started to harden and grow between his lips again. Jack thrilled to the feel of expanding flesh on his tongue, pushing on his tongue. Ripple across stomach muscles, twitch of the left thigh.

Jack found himself tumbling, tossed onto his back, arms wind milling, seeking purchase on the hard deck that seemed to be slipping out from under him. Will's face pressed close to his. The look of consternation, and the beloved eyebrow crease returned to it's home.

"What are you doing?" Will demanded, voice filled with distrust.

Jack thought for a moment. He supposed he'd never done that before, they'd always rested, always stopped before starting again. He didn't see why it should be such cause for alarm, and ordinarily he would be offended by Will's suspicion. But there was that gorgeous crease, and Jack couldn't be upset by that. To be certain, it was proof of Will's apprehension, but it made him look so attractive, almost vulnerable. Jack knew he should take it seriously, but he couldn't help himself. He had to do what he'd been yearning to do all along.

He tilted his chin, stuck out his tongue, and licked the crease from top to bottom. Then he licked across the wavy lines of worry on Will's forehead. And, for good measure and because he'd never done it before either, although why he could not fathom, Jack trailed his extended tongue gently over Will's now-closed eyelids. The skin there was thin, so very soft. He felt an eyeball flutter under the lid. He licked across them again. He didn't need a reason.

Will opened his eyes as Jack pulled back. They stared at each other for a long moment.

Jack smiled. He didn't have to try to look non-threatening. He wasn't threatening, not now. "I'm making love to you, dear William." His voice was soft and low and without a hint of a growl and not at all like Jack's voice but it came from Jack nonetheless. "I'm making you feel good everywhere, and then I'm going to do it all over again, until the sun rises, or one of your meddling relatives shows up to spoil the fun, or until the bloody royal navy arrives to cart me away in irons."

Will considered this. He was still shaking from his violent release earlier, but his cock was hard and aching for even more. His skin was prickling all over, eager for the feel of naked Jack. Jack was still mostly clothed, except for the gaping opening of his trousers from which Jack's firm, delicious looking cock protruded. He couldn't remember what he was upset about. He seemed to remember being worried, worried that he was being manipulated somehow, but he couldn't think of why.

Will lifted a hand and stroked down Jack's cheek. The skin was evenly tanned, smooth. His fingers ghosted over dark hair, the moustache curled up at the edges, the beard laying flat against a fined jaw line. What would Jack look like with out the beard? Younger, softer. One fingertip traced a slightly pouting upper lip. So soft. It didn't look like it would feel so soft. The tongue that flicked out at his finger was pink, wet, inviting. Jack looked up at him, eyes wide with expectation.

He knew he was being judged. He prayed he would pass muster.

"Well, Captain Sparrow, I think you're wearing far to many clothes to accomplish that task with any success," he murmured.

Until the sun rises sounded very good to him indeed.

---

Chapter 30 - It Was The Kohl Again

Captain Jack Sparrow sat somewhat dazed on the deck of a ship that was not his own and, for the first time in his life, that didn't matter at all. It didn't matter that his ship was out on the ocean somewhere, with someone else in command. It mattered somewhat that the ship in question belonged to the more than somewhat odd Reverend Alphonse DeMaurier, but Jack had grown rather fond of the good reverend and decided he was a decent enough fellow. I helped that Brother Alphonse was the stepbrother of the decidedly indecent Will Turner, and it was the indecency that rendered Jack dazed.

This was their third night together on the ship. Every morning Will rowed them back to shore, where he worked in the barn and around the fields with Franklin, his step-brother-in-law. Jack didn't want to think about the complexities of relationships too closely. He might have to throw Will's father being his ex-lover in the mix and Will could stop talking to him again. Best to go leave the past in the past.

Franklin was a big, handsome man, a few inches taller than Will and much broader. He had longish hair bleached strawberry light by the sun and a ruddy complexion from working outside a lot. They looked good together, and Jack might have worried if he wasn't sure of how utterly devoted Franklin was to his wife, Kay. He proved his devotion by abandoning his parents, who disapproved of their only son marrying what they called a "dark girl". His father was a cleric, like Alphonse, but he was of the sort of cleric who'd kicked Alphonse out of the church for loving another man, so Franklin didn't miss him one bit.

Kay, on the other hand, she made Jack nervous. No doubt about her devotion to her husband, however she seemed to take an inordinate interest in the dalliances of her new stepbrother. In fact, she pushed the pirate and blacksmith together at every opportunity, which of course he was grateful for, but he pondered her motives. To the point of asking her that afternoon, as he'd sat on the veranda holding out his hands while she wound spun cotton around them.

Kay just winked at him, sassy girl, and grinned. "I like the look of you together, dearie."

Good lord, he hoped she didn't watch!

He rolled on his side and looked into the sleeping face of Will. He loved watching Will sleep. In fact, he spent much of the nights on the boat watching Will sleep after they'd made love. Consequently, he found the need for naps during the day, but Kay didn't mind.

"Young'un tires you out, hmm, old man?" she giggled that afternoon when he yawned. "Lie down here, Captain, regain your strength."

When he rose at dusk, refreshed from his nap, he found Kay in the kitchen with Will. He was sitting, stock still, on a high stool and Kay, god love her, Kay was biting her lower lip in concentration as she meticulously applied a thin line of kohl to his closed upper eyelids.

Jack had to grab the doorframe to steady himself.

"Just one more second…"

Jack held his breath.

"Now open…"

Jack felt a terrible but enthralling pressure on his chest as Will opened raised his lashes and looked over Kay's shoulder, directly into Jack's eyes.

Is that how Jack's eyes looked, surrounded by black? It couldn't be. He could never look so completely and utterly wanton while fully clothed sitting in his sister's kitchen. Not that Jack had a sister. At least not one who would let him sit in her kitchen. Definitely not if he looked like that.

This was the same way Kay had lined Jack's eyes, that night she wanted him to seduce Will. It made the rich chocolate of Will's eyes softer, creamier. The whites stood out in sharp contrast, which made them look huge. And the lashes, lovely dark lashes, so long and soft. Jack ached to feel them flutter against his cheek.

Will blinked a few times. It took a few tries for his eyes to come into focus. When the curtain of lashes descended and rose Jack got a dark, hot feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Exquisite," he whispered, which made Kay jump.

"Jack, dearie, I didn't know you were there! Trying to scare me to death, honestly." She bustled around the kitchen tidying things for a minute. "Oh, I think I hear the baby upstairs…" And she was gone.

Jack stepped away from the door, toward Will, who still sat perfectly still on the stool. He held his head stiffly, as if he were afraid the kohl might slide off if he tilted his head too much. Jack locked eyes with him and advanced slowly across the floor.

"That is just, it is so…" Jack began, "I assure you, even I can not do it justice."

One elegant chestnut eyebrow rose in question.

Jack let out a short sharp breath.

"Kay insisted. I wasn't sure how you would respond." Quiet, unsure of himself. Still holding his head just so. Like a statue, like some glorious classical statue.

Jack made a little laugh that died away fast. He was inches away from Will now. He lifted one hand to stroke across a perfect cheekbone. The wide eyes made the cheekbones impossibly high. "It's lovely," he drawled. "You're lovely, how could you even question it?"

Oh, that shy smile. He still had no idea how wholly ravishing he was.

Will's legs slid apart, and he reached out to hook a finger in the top of Jack's waist sash, drawing the pirate closer. Will hadn't shaven in weeks, and dark hair drooped down a little over his upper lip. Jack was torn between staring at wide kohl-lined eyes and soft, lickable moustache. Will solved the dispute by pulling him so close he could focus on neither. A hot tongue swept over Jack's lips.

"I'm pleased you approve," Will purred, "Kay thought you might."

Jack groaned out loud at the memory, causing Will to stir in his sleep in the cool night air. Those eyes opened, kohl now smudged, missing in a few spots. He peered through the dim night. "Jack?"

"Hmm, the one and only, luv. How are you feeling, mate?" He lowered himself to the deck beside his young lover. "Rested?"

Will nodded, and wriggled a naked leg between Jack's, running his dry, warm palm down a slim thigh. "And you?" He nuzzled Jacks neck and caught the bead at the end of one braid of beard between his teeth. Gentle tug. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Jack grinned. "I find myself capable of remarkably little sleep when you are near, young Mr. Turner. And I ponder the solution to the problem nightly. Alas, I've yet to solve the conundrum."

"Conundrum?"

"Indeed," he kissed Will's forehead sweetly. "It's a paradox. The more time I spend with you, the more energy I expend. Yet, once said energy is spent, I find myself unable to achieve a state of unconsciousness, for I feel a powerful desire to gaze upon your resting form for all the night long."

Will's cheek heated against the side of his neck. It wasn't bright enough to see him blush, therefore it was fortuitous that Will was positioned so Jack could feel it. Jack would hate to miss a single flush of bashfulness.

"You flatter me so.." Will giggled a little.

"So I can take advantage of you!" Jack drew Will up to kiss his soft lips. He would have been happy doing just this for the rest of the night, but Will's cock twitched and grew against his answering organ. They kissed and ground hips and cocks against each together for a few minutes until Will pulled away.

He pushed Jack's messed hair away from his face. "You're insatiable," he laughed.

"No, you are the insatiable one, no question about it." It was so easy to smile and mean it.

"Then you're the demanding one," Will countered.

Jack pushed him back down, onto the folded sail that served as their mattress. "I would beg to differ, but you wouldn't listen, impudent whelp." He kissed the long, smooth column of throat, nibbled a little at the tender skin, just enough to elicit a moan. "I shall have to prove it to you."

Will wriggled under him, laughing brightly. Water on stones. Leaves in a warm breeze. "And how do you propose to do that?"

Jack silenced him with two fingers against his lips. "I shall show you, dear William, that I am perfectly capable of paying adequate attention to you," Lips on a taut nipple, "To you and your exquisite body," Splayed fingers on tight abdominal muscles, "For quite some time," Tongue swirling across ribs, "Without any need for reciprocation," Fingernail dipping lightly into a dark navel, "Yet you, my dear impatient boy, will be begging for more," Wet kiss above the solar plexus, "And I won't even touch," One finger drawn up the vein running up a hard cock, "This."

Will released a choked laugh. "Oh, really? Ahhh…"

Jack's hands swept up and down Will's sensitive inner thighs. He loved the skin here. It was a bit softer, a paler. When the muscles tensed Jack's fingers tingled, and kept stroking until Will dug his heels into the sail and bent the knees. Jack's fingers crept behind the knees, where Will was just the slightest bit ticklish, but not enough to laugh, only enough to squirm.

Jack smiled, smug. He'd make the boy howl tonight. Nothing better than that, not that he'd ever heard. But, he mused as he traced well-defined calves and slightly scraped knees, purring was nice too. On consideration, a low, satisfied purr might be nicer than a desperate howl. Really only one way to find out, was there? He'd simply have to sample both before the night was through.

Will groaned when Jack's wet tongue touched his thigh, just below the juncture with hip. So close Jack's hair brushed over his stiff cock. The tongue lapped at his inner thigh in long flat downward strokes. His breath came quicker, drying his lips. "Oh, Jack."

Jack swirled around a kneecap and down the very centre of one shin. He left a trail of saliva slicking down the longer, straighter hairs that grew there. He paused at the slim ankle, and kissed it.

Will purred.

"As I suspected," Jack murmured as he shuffled lower, settling on his knees between Will's spread legs. "Just lie back, luv, and enjoy."

He slipped his hands around an elegant foot. He loved the way his touch made Will's whole body shiver. Long, graceful toes. Jack kissed the instep, then licked the pad of the big toe, and waited for the moan. Music. He took the tip of the toe between his lips. And waited.

"Jesus!"

Better than music, that was. Knowing how Will reacted when he sucked his fingers, Jack wrapped an arm around Will's left leg and shifted his own left knee so it was braced against Will's other leg before he slid his lips down to suck on the toe.

Will's whole torso rose up off the deck.

Jack set to business, licking between and sucking each toe into his mouth. He lavished copious attention on every joint, every bit of tender skin, every spot that seemed ticklish at first, but was really connected by some mysterious force to the pulsing organ between Will's legs. Will's hands clenched at the sail, his hips drove wildly upwards, his cock started leaking from the moment Jack licked down the sole of his foot and nipped at his heel from below. This was better than even Jack anticipated.

By the time Jack started on the second foot he had his howl. Loud and unfettered, accompanied by a pleading "Jack, please, I can't, it's too…" words were hard enough without sentences.

Jack regretted having to leave three toes unsucked, but the shuddering and whimpering were really too much to bear. He licked a path up a quivering thigh and nestled between Will's spread legs.

"Do you acquiesce?" he growled.

Will was panting so hard he couldn't speak. He could only nod, nod and thrust his cock toward Jack's mouth. The pirate's fingers danced across the back of Will's thighs. So tight, so hard, so tense. They skated up, toying with the tender crease between leg and arse.

It would be easy. Too easy. Will was so needy and aching, he would do anything Jack wanted. Jack's fingers drifted, of their own volition. Drifted across smooth, rounded flesh. Crept toward the hot, sweaty crease.

Then stopped.

Jack was shocked. He willed his hands to move, but they refused him. He simply could not do it. Must be some sort of paralysis, he thought vaguely. The blood's cut off, or he must be ill.

If the Black Pearl bore down on them, ploughing the little ship under the water, or the Interceptor II showed up and demanded his immediate arrest, or Alphonse leapt over the side of the ship, all those he could have handled with aplomb, and even wit. But this, this was mortifying.

It was almost as if he panicked. Meanwhile, Will was writhing beneath him, completely unaware of the moral dilemma. He'd reduced the boy to a liquid mass of quivering desire. Did that have any impact on the issue of consent?

He thought back to the first time, the first time he ever kissed the lad. Wait, it was Will who kissed him.

And the first time Will came in his mouth; he'd spent in Will's mouth first.

And so… Will would be ready, one day. But it wasn't necessary today. He slid his hands apart, so they cupped the perfect arse, and lifted suddenly.

Jack swallowed Will's cock and in a few short seconds was swallowing Will's salty release.

Will's purr was low and rumbling. Jack could feel it vibrate in his mouth, where Will's cock still pulsed erratically. That was enough.

For now.

*****

previous | Chapter Index | next

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Haleth