Parts 31-35

Posted: October 2003
Author: Haleth

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31 - Far From The Devil

Anamaria pushed Charlotte into the captain's cabin and slammed the door behind her. "Are you trying to tease me to death?" she demanded angrily.

Charlotte was laughing, and how could Anamaria stay mad when her lover's face was lit up like that? Charlotte had changed so much since boarding the Black Pearl. The tension had slipped away, leaving a woman who looked younger, laughed more, wasn't afraid of anything, and threw herself into every task with abandon. And that was particularly pleasing when Anamaria was the task at hand.

Now she pushed Charlotte up against the wall of the cabin. "Do you know what the punishment is for sexually taunting the temporary captain of a pirate ship?" she glowered menacingly.

Charlotte forced her mouth into a comical frown. "Why no, Madam Temporary Captain," She did all she could to keep from breaking out into a fit of giggles. With little success. "But I'm eager to find out!"

Anamaria jammed her leg between Charlotte's, pinning her to the wall. "Well, first you have to stay very still…" She bent her head and licked a hot wet line up Charlotte's long, pale neck. "And then you must submit…" She nipped lightly at a delicate earlobe. "To everything you hinted about on deck, out there, with the crew present so I couldn't respond to you." Anamaria sealed her lips to Charlotte's, thrusting her tongue hungrily between them. Charlotte happily opened he mouth to welcome the invasion.

Charlotte had never been so happy in her life. Leaving Madam Marina's house, even if it was the most humane place she'd had to work, was the best decision she could have made. She'd been seeing Anamaria on and off for three years, ever since the first time her pirate lover visited her sister, the madam. Charlotte was smitten the moment she first laid eyes on Anamaria.

At first the pirate was wary of her. She'd had her heart broken by another woman and vowed she would never fall in love again. And she especially didn't want to fall in love with a harlot. Not that she thought Charlotte would take advantage of her on purpose. She just didn't want to have to deal with knowing her lover was being with men all the time.

Charlotte had hated having to do her job when she was in love. She'd hated being with all those men. Not because she didn't enjoy sex, and not because she wasn't very good at her job. But it seemed like such a waste of perfectly good sex, when the only person she really wanted to be with was the daring and gorgeous pirate.

She had been afraid Anamaria would totally reject her for being a harlot, would see her as weak or less than human. But Anamaria wasn't like that at all. Probably came from her having a sister who was a madam. They'd kept an emotional distance for a while, knowing they couldn't be together all the time. But now, on this ship, being with Anamaria all the time, and not having to be with any men in that way, it was like heaven.

And now, with Anamaria's hands roaming down her backside and the backs of her thighs, this was better than heaven. She moaned loudly into her pirate's mouth.

And then Gibbs knocked on the door.

"Um, Anamaria, we've done an inventory and we're running low on a few things…" Gibbs was reluctant to interrupt his captain, however temporary, as she'd seemed somewhat determined to get the redhead into her cabin. But he felt obliged to report any developments that could prove important in the future.

Anamaria pulled away from Charlotte, groaning. "Gibbs, for heaven's sake, plot a course for the nearest port, we've got plenty of swag to pay for supplies."

"But…"

"Gibbs!"

"Yes ma'am."

Anamaria spread the fingers of one hand on a slight waist, the other cupping an unrestrained breast. "So sorry for the interruption," she purred. "Now where was I?"

Charlotte sighed. "I think," she said, grasping a strong wrist and guiding the hand from waist, back and down, to grab her plump bottom. "We were right about here."

Anamaria growled low in the back of her throat, which made Charlotte shiver. The prostitute was used to being in charge of such activities, but when Anamaria got aggressive all Charlotte could do was submit. And she loved every second of it.

Charlotte found herself being pushed up onto the top of a cabinet, which was bolted to the wall. Skirts pushed up high, legs spread wide. This was a familiar feeling, but instead of some sweating groaning man shoving his hard prick into her when she wasn't ready, she felt hot breath trailing across her pale thighs, and gentle fingers stroking her bare calves. She leaned back and spread her legs further. Heaven.

Anamaria started at the left knee, placing careful kisses on every inch of creamy skin, working her way slowly along, stopping inches away from her target, and then beginning at the right knee in the same fashion. Charlotte made a series of high, cooing sighs that sent the blood straight between her legs. The noises this woman made!

Finally she took a long, wet swipe across Charlotte's delicious slit with her flattened tongue. Sweet as honey. Charlotte moaned and Anamaria's tongue delved deeper inside her. Better than any prick.

Gibbs knocked on the door again.

"Um, begging your pardon…"

Anamaria raised her head, lips glistening with Charlotte's juices. She licked her lips. Hmmm, the girl had the most delightful taste.

"This had better be important, Gibbs!"

"It is, ma'am. The Interceptor II, it's been sighted off the port side and…"

"Mr. Gibbs, you are a perfectly capable sailor. Outrun it. Again."

"Aye, ma'am."

Anamaria rolled her eyes. They'd been dodging Norrington for a week now. How difficult could it be?

Charlotte giggled. "So this was what it was like for Captain Sparrow and your brother."

Anamaria grinned. "Something like it. Poor Jack, he was going mad with frustration! And I will too, if I don't get you naked and on that bed soon!"

Charlotte reached one long leg out and hooked it around Anamaria's waist. "Tell me again," she murmured. "Tell me about when you saw them together."

Anamaria scrunched up her nose in distaste. "Why do you always want to hear about that?" But she didn't complain about being pulled close to the hot, writhing body of her lover. "And can't we move over to the bed?"

Charlotte hopped down off the cabinet and grabbed her lover's hand, puling her toward the large bed. "Oh, let's. I don't know, I just love hearing about them together. Quite a handsome pair, don't you agree?"

Anamaria laughed. "And here I thought you didn't like men."

Charlotte pulled Anamaria down onto the bed with her. "I don't, not all, but I like the pretty ones." She gave Anamaria a long kiss, savouring her own taste on the pirate's soft lips. "I especially like to watch the pretty ones together."

"That's my brother you're talking about, and my captain!"

Charlotte purred. "Mmm, yes, together." She licked along the strong line of Anamaria's jaw. "Tell me again." She wriggled against the other woman and pressed against her, heat seeping through her dress.

Blood rushed to Anamaria's clit. "They were below deck," she choked out. Charlotte was straddling her right leg, rubbing salaciously against it with her heated groin. "And I saw them on the bed." She gasped as thin fingers wriggled into her blouse and tweaked a nipple to hardness. She knew what her lover wanted to hear. They'd talked about this before, and Anamaria was amazed at the response a few, well-chosen words could elicit.

Anamaria closed her eyes for a few seconds, picturing the two men together. It really didn't do all that much for her, but she tried her hardest to choose the right words because she loved what it did for Charlotte. "Will was lying on his back, bare chest and arms, all sweaty and shining in the lamplight. Jack was kneeling over him, licking the sweat off his chest." Anamaria's hand ran all over Charlotte's body, pulling off clothes as the traveled, while Charlotte pulled up Anamaria's blouse and took a stiff brown nipple between her lips. Charlotte's skirt fell away, and she spread her naked body across her lover's.

"More," she growled.

"He had him on his back, and he was licking him, pushing his tongue into his…." Anamaria was having trouble concentrating, remembering details, because Charlotte was rubbing their naked breasts against each other and tongue-fucking her ear. Anamaria grabbed Charlotte's arse and ground against her.

Charlotte gave a sharp gasp and made a noise that could only be interpreted as encouraging.

Anamaria tried to remember. The captain was dark tanned skin and black hair, and hard angles, shiny with sweat, eyes sparkling as he looked at his young lover. Will was lighter, brown hair and golden skin, very pale below the waist, but then she couldn't imagine the blacksmith ever fully disrobing, especially not in the sunlight. Yet there he'd been, pants pushed down to expose a pale arse and chestnut curls and a long, slim cock with a wide head, and Jack's hand wrapped around it, unwilling to let go.

"He took the boy into his mouth, he was sucking on him. And the boy was moaning…"

"Like I moan?" Charlotte was gasping, wriggling against the fingers that crept around her, between her legs, from behind, trying to impale herself on them and have them rub her swollen clit at the same time.

"No," Anamaria stretched her arm and plunged her fingers between wet folds. "Nothing like you. You sound sweet," she turned her wrist so she could stroke the sensitive nub with her thumb. "He sounded lower, wilder, like an animal."

"I can't," Charlotte breathed into her ear, "Imagine that man sounding like an animal, but if you just…" She shifted to the left. "If you could just move your, oh yes, just like that!" Charlotte let out a low moan that vibrated through Anamaria's whole body. And sounded much more like Will than she ever had before. Anamaria flexed her hand just so and felt a rush of wet heat as Charlotte came around her fingers, all clenching muscles and sighs. Who would have ever guessed the ex-harlot would get so excited thinking about two men together?

Anamaria reminded herself that she, herself, had no interest in the two of them. She was only interested in the woman who sprawled across her, panting and making kittenish little mewing sounds before slithering down the bed and burying her face between Anamaria's legs. The pirate lay back and closed her eyes, enjoying the flicking tongue and sucking, nipping lips. This was better than any man could ever be.

They both ignored the pounding on the door and Mr. Gibbs's distraught yells. After the last week of being on the constant run and being unable to find any time to be alone, they were far too caught up in the moment for ship's business.

After a time they collapsed in each other's arms and lay kissing for a good while. The ship tossed on the water, and Anamaria did think to check if it was the weather causing all the turmoil, but she forgot to when she found, for the second time, her hands buried in a mass of red curls, and her clit being expertly licked to orgasm. Yes, this was the pirate life, indeed.

She was on the cusp of another orgasm, when a new thumping on the door and the smashing of glass shook her from her stupor.

"What the devil?"

"No," came a supremely irritated voice. "Far from the devil."

And Commodore Norrington strode into the captain's quarters.

---

Chapter 32 - Just a Little More

"No, no, that's too much on the tip. Just a little is all you need, that's better." Kay was patient with Captain Jack Sparrow, more patient than her stepbrother Will, who squirmed in the chair periodically and blinked at all the wrong times.

Black smeared under a chocolate eye.

"Blast! Can't you sit still for a moment, whelp?" the exasperated pirate hissed.

Will stuck out his tongue in a most undignified manner, and Kay was beset with a fit of giggling. "None of that," she warned. "There are children about!"

Jack tried to look scandalized at the suggestion that the mere sight of Will's tongue would provoke him to act inappropriately around the little ones he was coming to see as his own nieces and nephews. But he had to admit the lovely and talented tongue sticking out at him like that did cause somewhat of a rush of blood to his loins. He grinned and remembered the night before, when Will had pinned him down face first on the deck, and licked one, long, wet unbroken line from his ankle all the way up to his ear. How he'd kept his tongue wet the whole time Jack would never fathom. Talented boy.

He shifted a little, in a vain attempt to hide the growing bulge in his trousers. It was bad enough that Will was wearing only his pants, since Jack's first attempt had resulted in a spray of black powder across one of Franklin's work shirts. Kay had whipped the shirt off Will with alarming speed and set it to soak in sudsy water. But when Will shrugged rippling chest muscles topped by sun-kissed nipples enthralled Jack. He cleared his throat and squinted in a vaguely threatening way.

"Watch yourself, I'm armed," he teased, holding up the intricately carved tool.

Kay looked the pirate up and down. "I'll say," she muttered, then swept a damp cloth over the smudged kohl.

The blush spread up Will's cheeks, turning golden skin to burnished copper.

The smug look on Jack's face gave Kay another fit of chuckling. "You two, you make a fine pair. Now get yer minds out of the gutter and pay attention. Will, you sit still. Jack, relax your hand. You're so tense you can't concentrate."

Jack took a deep breath and tried again. This time he laid just the right amount of kohl on the blunt end of the wooden stick, which he'd first dipped in oil, and put down an even, thin line along the edge of Will's right lower eyelid. Will didn't flinch this time and the result was perfect.

"Better! Now, I've cleaned off the upper lid too, so try again there."

Will looked up at Jack, brown eyes wide and trusting. He gave a little smile, half shy half teasing. Then lowered lashes and sat still.

Jack took a deep breath. He didn't want to paint kohl on the upper eyelid. He wanted to give it the faintest, gentlest lick, and then brush the softest kiss across it, and then make it fly open again when he plunged his tongue into Will's sensitive ear. Alas, Kay stood beside him, waiting for him to prove he'd learned the lesson well. Time for ear licking would have to come later. He dipped the applicator lightly into the vial of powder and rested the side of his hand on Will's cheekbone.

"Take your time, Jack," Kay soothed.

He could feel the angle of the bone beneath his hand. His eyes strayed, following the hollow of the cheek on the other side, up to the temple where a thick, glossy curl wrapped around itself against golden skin. He could imagine sliding the tip of his finger into the curl and pulling lightly, watching the hair wind itself around him as if it had a mind of its own. Soft curls that flowed against Will's long neck. Lovely curls that tickled his nose when he tried to sleep, that slid along his body like silk when Will kissed him all over, that teased and tantalized him whenever he wasn't allowed to reach out and sink his hands into them.

The eye. Right. Time to paint the eye. He touched the stick carefully to the edge of the lid and drew it across slowly. The eye beneath the skin drifted up a bit, reacting to the tickling sensation of powder and oil, but Will stayed perfectly still this time.

"Good, now draw it out a bit at the edge there, that's it. See that curve there? Hmm, yes, just let the tip drift up, you'll feel the angle naturally."

Jack let the sweep of Will's face shape the line. This was art. He remembered the feeling of art. The feeling of the brush leading the hand, the form choosing itself. He lifted the stick from Will's face and looked critically at his work.

"Good!" Kay was very pleased. She'd had a hunch the captain had an artistic streak, especially when it came to Will. "Now the other one, try to make it match but don't fret over it. You get all vexed and it won't be even."

Jack nodded and cleaned off the applicator, coating it once more with the oil. He could think of a few other things he'd rather be doing with the oil. At least a dozen things, off the top of his head. All entailed the removal of the rest of Will's clothes. But this was enjoyable enough, now that Will had stopped moving about and Kay wasn't making fun of his arousal any more.

It wasn't natural, a woman taking such an interest in the sex life of two men. What kind of woman was this? She seemed perfectly happy with her husband; she didn't seem frustrated or bored. He supposed that if she found out Will was her stepbrother and there was a woman he was interested in, she might be taking the same interest. But he doubted it.

He stepped closer and tilted Will's head back so the light from the window hit his eye fully. Will's lips slid open, just a bit. An automatic response to leaning back? Or was he being deliberately enticing? That alluring tongue rested just behind even white teeth, hinting that it might like to come out and play. Jack fought to keep his moan inside. Soft, full lips curled just a bit, into a knowing smile, but the rest of Will's face showed no emotion. Oh, very deliberately.

Jack lowered his hand, fingers of one hand resting below the eye, putting gentle pressure on the skin to stretch the lower lid slightly. He forced his right hand to relax. The side of it rested against the side of Will's nose. He could feel warm breath on his wrist. Now, how was he supposed to draw a straight line when that was happening? He willed all feeling in his wrist away and traced an elegant line below dark, arching lashes.

When he drew his hand away Kay murmured her approval.

Will kept his eyes closed, little smile playing around his lips. He angled one leg so his knee nestled between Jack's thighs. He flexed his thigh, just enough so Jack could feel the muscle jump, the tiniest rub against his inner thighs. His breath hitched and the little smile curled up.

"You are evil," Jack whispered in the lowest voice possible.

"Hmmm." Low, throaty. Not a purr, but close enough to cause the hairs on the back of Jack's neck stand up.

"I like a challenge, whelp."

"Challenge? It's only a little kohl, Jack. Shouldn't be a challenge for you." Will cooed.

Kay laughed. "A little kohl is a challenge for Jack. Look at this!" She swept a hand in the direction of Jack's thick-lined eyes. "This man has no sense of restraint."

"I," Jack growled, "Do not wear kohl for show, dear lady. This is so I can see further into the sun."

"Now Captain Sparrow, nobody ever told you it's a bad idea to look into the light?" Kay smirked now; impudent whelp's sister.

Jack smirked. "Nobody has ever told me what to do for a long time. But since you seem so intent on me learning this skill of dubious value, shall we get on with it?"

Kay took hold of Jack's sleeve and dragged him forcefully into the parlour. "Captain Sparrow, you will not cast any aspersions on the worth of anything involving my brother," She hissed. "And in particular, I think you would do better to not doubt the value of this exercise. I know exactly what happened when I painted your eyes, I could read it on his face the next day as clear as I could read your face the morning after I painted his eyes. You're learning to do this because you like it. And because I want you to. And you're learning to do this because every time you see my brother with that kohl on his eyes you fall a little more in love with him."

Jack stood, stunned, staring at this mad woman. "That's what you want?"

Kay smiled broadly at him. "Jack, you're a rogue and a scoundrel, but you're in love with Will. I just want to make sure you never forget it, because he loves you back. And if you ever, ever forget how much you love him, I will not be forgiving." Kay suddenly grabbed Jack, rather painfully, between the legs. "So consider this your warning. If you ever cause him any pain…"

"Savvy," Jack choked out. He was very aware that this woman he had thought was a slightly perverted but loving mother had turned into a slightly demented, territorial and terrifyingly protective sister. The most frightening part of it was that her threat to the goods was not causing the goods to diminish in size in the slightest. Alarming.

Kay gave him a swift, only mildly painful, pat. "Good boy. Now we understand each other. Now, I think you want to finish this, because dusk is approaching, and it's almost time for you to row out to that ship for the last time, because Alphonse is leaving tomorrow. Do not waste the opportunity. ‘Savvy'?"

Jack nodded, wriggling to rearrange his scandalized privates. He couldn't imagine what had caused this further growth. He pondered what she'd done. He'd never been excited by having his bollocks threatened before, at least not when that much pain was involved. He pondered what she said. No, warnings of personal damage had never excited him in the past, not like this.

All that talk about being in love. It had never caused this kind of response before. But when he considered the notion that Will might be in love with him his still-nervous cock twitched. And grew a bit more.

Holy mother of… was Will in love with him? And he in love with Will?

He peeked around the corner. Kay was pouring a glass of water for Will. He laughed at something Kay said, and the skin around his eyes crinkled a little. Jack realized he loved those little crinkles when Will laughed. And he loved the sound of Will laughing. And he wanted to hear Will make all kinds of other noises as well, but he liked the laughing just as much of any of the others. Astounding.

Will looked all lopsided, with one eye lined completely and the other only on the bottom. If the cost of making him balanced again was to fall in love with him a little more, that was a price well worth paying.

Jack re-entered the kitchen and picked up the blackened stick. "If we're going to do this, let's do it proper," he announced.

Kay nodded, smiling. Will tilted his head back obediently and closed his eyes. It was easy, just a light touch and sweep to the side, letting the kohl flow naturally. "Just a little more," Jack whispered, and let his fingers guide the stick beyond where it seemed it should end, curving up ever so gracefully.

Then Will opened his eyes to look into Jack's eyes, and Jack was pleased.

It was perfect. It was beautiful. So it suited Will.

---

Chapter 33 - Norrington's Gambit

Commodore Norrington froze in his tracks. The two women, the pirate and the harlot, were on the bed. Completely naked. Together. Quite obviously together, since the redhead was lying between the other's thighs with her face nuzzling… this was not what he expected.

He was a man of the world. He had heard of such things, whisperings between less than savoury characters, nudges and offers for more than his salary could afford, where he knew Charlotte from, down at the… wait a minute. This pirate. She looked suspiciously like the woman who ran the business at the… and she was utterly naked and brandishing a sword, aimed at a part of his body he'd rather keep intact.

"I apologize, uh, Captain." He turned around abruptly. "I shall avert my eyes until you are decently attired."

Anamaria stared at him in amazement. Did he want to be run through?

Charlotte hopped up off the bed. "Ooh, Norrie, you're such a gentleman." She tossed clothes to Anamaria. "Get dressed luv, and we'll have a cuppa with the Commodore, eh?"

Anamaria raised her sword.

"No, no, that's not necessary, dear. He hasn't taken over the ship, he's just visiting, look!" Charlotte pointed out the window to the Interceptor II, which lay in the distance flying a white flag. "Give him a chance to explain."

Anamaria and Charlotte dressed quickly, and Charlotte busied herself making tea. The captain flung open the door of the cabin to see Gillette standing on the deck, hands above his head, being surveyed rather too closely by Mr. Cotton. And his parrot.

Mr. Gibbs stood off to the side with a rifle in his hands. "I tried to warn you, Anamaria. Bad luck, having this lot on board." He gestured toward the aghast Gillette. "He's not the type I like to have around. If the Commodore gives you any trouble at all we'll gladly toss this one overboard."

Anamaria gave a curt nod and returned to the cabin. Norrington sat at the table, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Again, I apologize, Captain, um… Captain?"

Anamaria decided to keep her name out of things for the time being. After all, her sister was the madam of the finest brothel in the Commodore's port. "Maria." She said. "Captain Ana Maria. So, what is it that brings you to my ship then?"

"Your ship? I gather, then, that you'll not be rendezvousing with Captain Sparrow?"

"That'd be none of your business. Just tell me what you want."

"Well, to be frank," Commodore Norrington swallowed noticeably. "I am in need of some assistance. I've been tracking you for some time, since I discovered that Sparrow and Turner did not, indeed, go to Tortuga. But a situation has come about, a rather serious situation. And as you are the closest ship, I was hoping we could come to an agreement."

Anamaria raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? I help you, you stop searching for Jack, perhaps?"

Norrington nodded.

"Well, I, uh, when I discovered he wasn't in Tortuga I examined your movements and ascertained that he must be back on that island. It was quite obvious you'd dropped him off there…"

Anamaria's face clouded.

"But he was gone by the time we arrived. Evidently someone else picked him up."

She relaxed.

"So you must be trying to get to him now. Assist me, and I give my word I will not follow you when you go to find him."

"And what makes you think Jack means that much to us?" Charlotte asked innocently.

Norrington bit his lip. Charlotte grinned. She thought he looked rather fetching when he did that. But her lover gave her a sharp look and she put a serious face back on. It was difficult to be the lover of the temporary captain, she thought.

"A ship needs its captain. You must be missing his skill, as a sailor and with a sword. And you seem to have gone to a good deal of trouble…" he mused.

Anamaria slapped her palm down on the table. "Enough of this blather. What do you want from me?"

Norrington looked torn between feeling disgusted at having to bargain with a pirate and embarrassed about why he was bargaining in the first place. "It's the Dauntless."

Anamaria nodded, waiting but not patiently.

"It's missing."

Could she have heard correctly? Missing? The pride of the King's Navy, and the power in these waters, was missing?

"Actually," Norrington fumbled, "It's been stolen."

"Commandeered, don't you mean?" Charlotte giggled. She loved the pirate life.

"And you must think I think an awful lot of Jack Sparrow if you think I'd trade him for a whole ship of pirates." Anamaria snatched a bottle of rum from the sideboard and poured a good measure into her tea. "As you may have gathered, I have no need for the good Captain, or his sword." She winked at her lover.

Charlotte giggled.

Norrington loosened his collar. "It wasn't exactly commandeered by pirates. It was, well, it was taken in a mutiny."

Anamaria laughed out loud. "That's rich. Good on you, ‘Norrie'. I'm going to help send mutinous navy men to the scaffold. Didn't know you had such a sense of humour."

Norrington's face clouded. "I should have known better than to make such a proposal to a bunch of… of bloody pirates! I shall have to deal with that scoundrel DeMaurier myself."

He stood to leave, but was stopped by the hand of the captain.

"Not so fast, Commodore. So, this scoundrel, who would that be then, eh?"

Norrington pulled his arm away. "The soon to be deceased Lieutenant Jacob DeMaurier, if it's any of your concern."

Anamaria and Charlotte stared at each other. Charlotte had heard, from her former employer the Madam Marina DeMaurier, about the black sheep brother of the family. Or, as Marina called him, the white sheep of the family. Young Jacob was a very light-skinned boy, who grew up in the favour of the local authorities, equally for his law-abiding behaviour and his ability to pass as what they referred to as ‘a proper Englishman'. His affected British accent, sounding like something straight from England and not the islands, and appropriately light colouring helped secure his acceptance in the King's Navy, which appalled his siblings to no end, particularly Marina. Curiously, Anamaria was the least judgmental of her brother.

Anamaria pondered the situation. Her brother had finally come to his senses, and Norrington wanted her to help hang him. Not bloody likely. This wouldn't require too much more thought. It was a unique opportunity. Anamaria was very glad she hadn't given the Commodore her name.

"I believe," she said slowly, "We may be able to come to an accord."

* * *

Norrington set sail in the direction the Dauntless had last been seen headed, with the Black Pearl close on his tail. He didn't care to examine the pirate's motives too closely. He'd secured the captain's word that she would help, and that would suffice for the moment, since she had reminded him of her distaste for mutineers, ‘even those who target the navy'.

Gillette stood beside him at the wheel, still a little shaky from his experience on the ship. Evidently, the parrot had taken quite an interest in his wig. He'd fixed it up as best he could, but remained nervous, standing far to close to Norrington for his comfort.

"Gillette, is there something I can do for you?" the Commodore asked, irritated. "You're hanging off me like some sort of barnacle, and it's hardly conducive to our success on this mission."

Gillette sighed and took a step back. He'd agreed to go over the Black Pearl to act as hostage during the parley with the captain with hopes of gaining favour with the Commodore. He did not wish to spoil any good will that had been built up.

"Are you sure, sir, that we can trust this pirate?"

Norrington laughed. "Of course not, but once we get back control of the Dauntless we can blow the Black Pearl out of the water."

---

Chapter 34 - Nothing But The Boots

Long, elegant feet sliding into silk stockings. Lean fingers unrolling and smoothing the fabric as it encases slim ankles, hiding inch by glowing inch of golden skin, sliding up a curved calf, covering dark hairs up to scratched knees. Really, the stockings were going in the wrong direction, but that didn't make the sight any less tantalizing. Not for Captain Jack Sparrow.

He watched, rapt, as Will Turner tucked the stocking under the bands of his trousers and smoothed the bone-coloured silk one last time. He was assaulted by the image of those long legs, sheathed in silk, wrapped around his waist. And had to stifle a groan.

Now Will pulled thick leather boots over the stockings. And those lovely feet and ankles and calves Jack had been privileged to stare at for hours on end for the last few weeks were gone from sight. The sense of loss was tangible. Jack closed his eyes and tried to steady himself, not an easy thing for him, on dry land.

When he opened them again Will was standing, hands on hips, deep crease between his brows. "What is the problem, Jack?"

Jack looked down at the boots. They were fine boots, brand new. Alphonse knew someone on the other side of the island who owed him a big favour. He'd taken a tracing of Will's foot with him a few days before and returned late in the night with an assortment of treasures. Nothing Jack would risk limb for, but they were the sort of mundane treasures that meant a lot to Kay and her family. A great new iron cooking pot, bolts of cloth, paper and ink and a slate for the little ones, hinges for the gate in the pasture (a little late, Will had managed to fashion a pair the day before but, as Franklin said, you can never have too many hinges) and a lovely carved comb for Kay's hair.

And the boots. Heavy, rich dark brown leather with a wide cuff, molding to Will's foot perfectly, hugging his ankles, with a thick enough heel to do some real damage if required. No buckles or bows, proper pirate boots these were. Jack had to amend his previous fantasy to include Will wearing nothing but the boots with his legs wrapped around Jack's waist. It would chafe a bit, but it would be worth it.

"No problem at all, luv. Just admiring the boots."

An elegant eyebrow arched up, a gesture Jack was well familiar with now. He couldn't lie to Will any more, not at all. Nor did he want to. He stepped forward to wrap his arms around his lover.

"Lovely boots," he nuzzled Will's neck. "Even lovelier legs. I was just thinking of your legs, Will. I can not stop myself from thinking of your legs."

Will checked to see if they were alone, then bent his head to kiss Jack's shoulder through his shirt. "We have time for that later. We must help Alphonse prepare to get sail."

Jack sighed and nodded and pulled away with regret. That was the only way he could pull away from Will, especially after last night. Their last night on the little ship.

Blessed by a warm dry evening with just a hint of a breeze, the perfect weather for sleeping on deck, they had rowed out at sunset after an excellent dinner of stew and bread and laughter with the family. And the application of the kohl. And Kay's words of warning to Jack.

Jack spread the folded sail out on the deck while Will filled two cups with some of the wine Kay had slipped to him after dinner.

"For you and Jack," she'd whispered with a wink. "Tell him how you feel."

Will was a little nervous, wondering what Kay meant by that. Surely Jack knew how Will felt. But no, that was impossible, because Will didn't know how Will felt. Will stood still in the twilight, holding the two cups in front of him, searching his feelings. At first, when all this started, he'd focussed on his fear, his shame and his indignation. Then he'd focussed on his shyness and embarrassment. After that it had all been lust and desire. Quite irresponsible, actually.

"Will?" A cup was lifted from his hand. "Are you with me, luv?"

Love. Jack called him that all the time. Luv, actually. Will didn't know if they were the same thing.

Jack studied Will. The eyebrow crease was deepening. Offering an opportunity to lick it, and distract Will from whatever was vexing him. Excellent. Never one to pass up an opportune moment, Jack extended his tongue for a delicate swipe across furrowed skin.

Will looked stunned. Adorably stunned. No one ever looked better, in Jack's opinion, whilst muddled or taken aback. He did care what the boy was musing about, he did want to clear up whatever uncertainty had placed the crease there in the first place, but licking the crease was enough to dissolve it, so discussion would wait for later.

Will kissed him, eagerly. "Jack," he mumbled against a tanned neck as he fumbled with the scarf tied around Jack's waist. "Jack, you make me want to…"

Jack smirked. That was the Will Turner he liked to see. "You can do whatever you like, dear boy, you should know that by now."

Will wrestled the cloth free of Jack's waist and pulled the shirt up over the finely muscled chest. Hands everywhere at once, lips following them, tongue dancing over browned skin and scars and inked shapes and soft black hair. Will nipped at Jack's flat belly, tugging sparse hairs with his teeth, licking noisily. He was on his knees now and Jack was looking about in a bewildered fashion, wondering where he was supposed to put his cup down.

He crumpled to the ground beside Will, balancing the cup deftly as he fell. "Will, dear, take a moment to breathe. Where is your wine?"

Will retrieved the miraculously upright cup from the deck.

"A toast," Jack pronounced. "A toast to us."

"Us?"

"Us." Jack drank long and deep of the wine. It was milder than his drink of choice, but it was sweet and refreshing. He leaned forward to kiss Will tenderly on the cheek. "To you and me and all that we enjoy together. May it last a good, long time."

Will blinked.

Oh dear, Will had that look. That watery, emotional look. The kohl was smearing a bit. Perhaps it was the wine. He wasn't used to spirits, however mild.

Will stared into the pirate's black eyes, trying to read them. Jack's body was tensed, leaning toward him. There was no doubt Jack wanted him, nor was there doubt about how he wanted him. And Will wanted that too. But he found himself searching for more.

An inexperienced sailor, naïve to the ways of the world. What could possibly make a pirate captain want to keep a boy around, especially a boy unwilling to do what the captain so obviously wanted him to do? He knew Jack thought him beautiful, but that would not be enough to make him want to keep Will with him forever.

Jack watched the return of the crease with trepidation. What was troubling the boy? They wanted each other, they had each other, the wine was sweet, the air was warm, and they were alone on the water. Jack couldn't see anything missing.

"I want it to last too," Will whispered. Then looked away.

Realization dawned. The boy thought it was all about the sex. He thought Jack just wanted to keep him around as some sort of a sex slave. Not that Jack didn't want Will to be his sex slave. But Jack was categorically opposed to slavery of any kind. Unless it was reciprocal, of course. So they would have to be each other's sex slaves. That was worthy of an accord.

Jack would have to retire, naturally. Can't be traipsing around the ocean plundering and pillaging when there's a sex slave to be had. And to be. They would find a quiet place to settle and spend eternity. Naked. He would lavish attention on Will's cock and legs and feet and chest and hands. He would suck his fingertips to wake him in the morning, and lick him clean whenever he got sweaty. Will would make those lovely purring noises late into the night, and whenever he got tired or sore, Jack would massage him and relax him and they would melt together in the moonlight.

Will sighed. Jack snapped to attention.

Jack couldn't deny that the sex was a strong motivating factor, but that wasn't all of it. No. Jack wracked his brain as to how to rectify the situation. It wasn't all that dissimilar from the problems he'd had, at times, long ago and he would never mention them to Will, with women. How did one reassure them? Ah, yes, not with sex.

No sex? Preposterous. Jack raked his eyes over Will's long limbs and torso. Impossible to not want sex with Will. But if it would restore confidence in him, Jack would just have to be a man.

He drew Will into his arms, turning him so Will's face lay against his naked chest. He laid them both back on the sail with his arms loosely around his lover. "Shh, luv. Long day. You'll feel better in the morning." He pulled the edge of the sail up over them, a comforting, salt-scented blanket.

Will lay perfectly still in Jack's arms. Sleep. Jack was content to just sleep with him. They'd never really done that before. Not since that first night on the beach. When they were both injured. He smoothed his fingers over Jack's shoulder. No longer bandaged, the wound was healed over, bright pink in some places, the tender skin puckering and brand new. He let the relief that Jack was healing, almost all better, wash over him. He cared more than he should.

But then, Jack was here with him. Not demanding anything.

Jack stroked Will's hair idly, letting the curls slip and slide around his fingers. Felt a strong heart beating against his. He wasn't even hard, he was relaxed all over. This was nice. Better than nice. It was comfortable. No, comfortable wasn't the right word either. It was…

Right.

It felt right to hold Will, gentle and warm, and fall asleep. He could do this every night. Not every night. He would want to do other things on some nights. But on any given night he could be satisfied with just this. He murmured something to Will, but he was so drowsy he wasn't sure of what he said.

Jack didn't want him to do anything. Will just had to lie and sleep and be happy. It had a dreamy quality to it. Will was tired, and it was easy to fall asleep like that.

When he opened his eyes again it was the dead of night, but he felt refreshed as if he'd slumbered for days. Jack still lay with him, cradling him. He breathed heavily in his sleep, not quite snoring. Will studied his face. He'd never really watched Jack sleep before. He'd seen him dozing on the veranda, resting on the beach, but never in a deep full sleep. Jack's face was relaxed, eyes thickly smudged top and bottom lid with kohl. His moustache curled up at the edges a little, and his beard braids lay curved against the underside of his chin.

Will ran a gentle finger up the side of Jack's face, up to the ragged scar on the side of his forehead. It must have been a wide cut, must have taken a long time to heal. Will traced it up to the hairline, into the thicket of wild black tresses, keeping his fingertip on the unnaturally tight skin, the scar widening at points, then closing to almost nonexistent and widening again, to the top of Jack's head.

Jack stirred against him, and Will pulled his hand away carefully. He placed it on Jack's chest instead, and felt a steady pounding under his palm. Jack's heart.

He slid it down to the flat, soft belly. So alive under his hand. He remembered, so long ago, waking to the feeling of Jack's hand on his stomach. Rubbing. In circles. His body remembered the feeling, the comfort it gave him. The desires it woke in him. His hand moved of its own accord. Slow soft circles, fingertips trailing through fine dark hair.

Then Jack's eyes opened.

---

Chapter 35 - Taking His Time

Jack Sparrow was thoroughly enjoying the soothing, warm feeling deep in his belly. So gentle and loving. Like when he was very young, and his mother used to rub his stomach for him if he was frightened or perturbed. When his father was angry or disappointed, when his tutors were upset and frustrated, when the world was against him. Slow, gentle circles would soothe away his problems and help him sleep.

But wait. His mother had small, soft, aristocratic hands. This hand wasn't small. It wasn't soft, however gentle it might be. And it wasn't aristocratic. A rough edge scraped over the hairless, sensitive skin just above his navel. And another rough edge caught a bit on the hair beneath his navel.

Wait again. Little boys don't have hair below their navels.

And mothers don't dip a fingertip into their little boy's navels to tease like that.

And little boys definitely do not grow to such proportions in response to a little tummy rubbing, so large that the edge of that non-aristocratic hand bumped against his sensitive and rather engorged cockhead on every pass.

Jack forced his eyes open, as much as they wanted to stay safe and comforted, a tad alarmed until he saw Will Turner there, gazing down at him shyly.

He wished it were day. In this blasted darkness, even with the light of the heavens shining through clear skies, everything was washed out in blue tones, monochromatic. Not that Will didn't look pretty in blue; he was exquisite. But by the light of the sun he would be able to see Will's skin, blushing pink, as it always did when he'd been caught doing something he thought he wasn't supposed to do.

And even though there was nothing wrong with what he was doing, Jack would have liked to see the blush.

"Didn't mean to wake you. Sorry." Will ducked his head down a bit.

Oh, lord help him, Jack knew the blush was creeping up around Will's ears now. Curse the night! That was his favourite part of the blush. He loved it almost as much as the eyebrow crease.

"Don't be. I feel thoroughly refreshed." Jack sat up and surprised himself. He was thoroughly refreshed. "I am a touch chilled, though." That was a blatant lie, but he knew it would bring Will's strong arms around him, and it did, and they both enjoyed that so it wasn't a lie so much as an incentive to do something they both wanted to do anyway.

Will's cheek was hot against Jack's and his breath was hotter on Jack's shoulder. Jack tangled his hands into soft hair.

"Will, I do have a confession to make. There is a problem," Jack spoke into a riot of messed curls, but he knew there was an ear in there somewhere.

Will pulled back, worried look on his face, eyebrow crease firmly in place. It gave Jack a little thrill. To be able to call it up, on demand as it were.

"Whatever is the matter?"

"It's you, darling," Jack drawled. " It's not working out. It's your clothes."

Will looked down at his shirt and breeches. "What's wrong with them?"

Jack lifted Will's chin with a single finger. "You're wearing them, luv. Now, don't you think you'd be much more comfortable if the clothes were over, shall we say, there, with my shirt and sash."

And soon they were doing what they did best, rolling back and forth on the sail, naked limbs entwined, attached at the lips. Hard cocks pressed together and Jack revelled in the velvet slide of them. Will must have been hard a while, for he was leaking profusely, and every drop of pearly fluid that spread over Jack's cock made him ache for more. Jack arched and writhed but couldn't get close enough to become one with Will. He was pressed so close his cock was close to being in pain.

"I can't," he panted. "I just can't show you." Frustrated, he gripped Will's hips and ground furiously against him.

Will was having the same problem, needing more Jack and being unable to get it. "I know, you want more." He rolled onto his back, bringing Jack, who was plastered to his front anyway, on top.

Then he spread his legs.

Jack slid between them with a groan. The boy had no idea how this was tormenting him. There was no way he could know just how inviting, just how achingly inviting that was. Long, lean thighs hugged Jack's flanks, and the head of Jack's cock pressed into the base of Will's so his hard shaft pressed into Will's bollocks and the heat, oh the heat, emanating from just behind them; like a siren's song, it called to Jack.

How could it be that this body, so sinful and so obviously intended for fucking, belonged to a man so innocent and infuriatingly… Oh. My. Lord. Jack went blind for a second when Will spread his legs further, and hooked one calf over the back of Jack's thighs, so Jack slipped further down. The head of his cock was positioned almost exactly where, in an ideal world, it should be.

Jack groaned.

"It's okay, Jack. You can go ahead."

Jack stopped groaning. What did that mean, ‘you can go ahead'?

Will wriggled his hips a little, as if in answer, and Jack made a little choking sound when his cock pressed against the incredibly hot little pucker of the opening he so desired. Will closed his eyes.

He was giving himself up. Jack proved he wanted Will even without sex. Now the whelp was giving himself up, as if to prove something entirely different. The boy was tense, fists clenched tight, eyes shut as if to block out a bright light. He was scared, but he was willing to do it to prove to Jack he was what? A man?

"No, no luv, you don't have to." Jack pulled himself up and off the lad, settling at his side. "You don't have to prove anything, honestly. Besides, I would just hurt you, you're drawn so tight." He ran his hand down Will's front as if to soothe him.

Curious. As tense as the boy was, his cock remained fully hard.

Perhaps it was instinctual.

Will sat up suddenly. "Jack, look, I'll not have you leaving me behind somewhere just because I won't…let's just get this over with and I'm sure I'll get used to it. I don't want it to come between us."

Jack didn't want anything to come between them, except for Will of course. He wanted Will to come between them with Jack's cock lodged firmly in his… Jack pushed him back down, both hands hovering in the air above Will in a gesture of frustration. "No! Look, Will, I appreciate the sacrifice, but it shouldn't have to be a sacrifice. It's not that important, really."

Will laughed harshly. "Is that why you quiver and moan like that when you get close to it? Because it isn't important?"

Jack tugged at his beard, breathing deeply to calm himself. Quivering and moaning. Made him sound like some degenerate with no self control. Surely he was better than that.

"I'll admit,' he said after a long pause, "that it is somewhat surprising that I would be talking you out of this, as opposed to into it."

"So don't! You want it so bad, and I'll never know why unless I try it."

It was logic Jack could not find an argument against. And really, who could blame him for not trying all that hard?

But that was no reason to be rash. He leaned over Will and played his fingers over firm thighs. "I need you to relax, Will. Let me do this slowly." He gently nudged the thighs apart. Will took a deep breath and let them fall open naturally. Jack took his time, running his fingers up and down the paler skin there. "One step at a time, savvy?"

Will sucked in his breath when Jacks fingers circled around his bollocks, lingering at the bottom of each journey around. Jack stopped and pressed his fingers against the smooth skin there, feeling the curve of it, the way it bulged slightly, so very hot to the touch. It made Will's cock twitch in a lovely way.

"That's it, luv, that's the very root of your cock, you know. I love the way it makes you jump when I do that." He pressed again and Will, almost not quite, came close to a purr. Jack stretched out next to him, hand pressed over cock and balls while fingers prodded gently. "You like that, don't you?"

Will nodded quickly and said "Hmm," in a high, needy sigh.

"Good lad," Jack hummed in his ear. "You look so beautiful like that, so open." Jack kept talking as if to calm a spooked horse or coax a frightened animal closer. Low, rumbling tones designed to loosen. He brushed his fingers lower to the furry cleft, palm pressed against bullocks, mouth moving along collarbone to that little hollow, at the base of Will's throat. "So beautiful."

The finger circling his opening felt so foreign to Will. He wanted to squirm away, but he somehow bucked up toward it, encouraging it. He had no idea what his treacherous body had in mind, but it wasn't very dignified, at least not in Will's mind.

"That's my boy. Don't fret, I'm not going to hurt you…" Jack kept whispering as he kissed his way down Will's chest, kept stroking and patting the little hole delicately. He'd never been so gentle before, and he found it strangely invigorating. Most surprisingly, he found himself enjoying this intimate slight touch so much there was almost need for more.

Will laid a hand on his shoulder. Getting ready to stop him if he went too far, or getting ready to encourage him, Jack couldn't tell. But it burned his skin. He spent a minute or two tonguing the dark hollow of Will's navel, feeling the muscles quiver under his lips. So very ready for more, so very frightened of it. This was more exciting than fucking. But ultimately not as satisfying. Jack took the head of Will's cock in his mouth.

Ah, there was the purr. As always, when Will purred Jack's cock leapt to attention. He'd almost forgotten about it, but now it strained and ached for release. He forced himself to ignore, to concentrate on the lovely, salty damp skin sweating beneath him, shuddering with desire. He lifted his hand and Will let out a growl.

"Hush, luv, I'm not stopping." Because Jack knew that was why Will growled. The answering whimper made Jack's fingertips tingle as he slipped two of them into his mouth. Then Will purred again when Jack replaced the now-wet fingers at his entrance and the always-wet mouth on his cock. Jack pressed gently, Will spread his legs just enough more to encourage him to push harder, and then Jack's finger was gripped by the most exquisite pressure.

Will made the decision to not fight anything. His thighs slipped even further apart, he let his back arch, his hand squeeze Jack's shoulder in encouragement. He pressed down, unconsciously and unforced, down so Jack's finger filled him.

Jack's jaw fell slack, with Will's cock still in it. Jesus, the boy was pushing back, and his finger was sinking into the hottest, smoothest, velvetest, that wasn't a word but who could come up with a real word when this was happening? When he moaned it seemed to make Will's cock bounce around in his mouth, which made him remember it was there in the first place, so he instinctively sucked and curved his finger once it was fully sheathed, slid it around, searching.

The probing stretched Will and he gasped, such a strange feeling. Like it shouldn't be there but it was right where it belonged. The saliva made it slide easily enough, and it was only one finger so it didn't really hurt, no more that a pleasant burn, and the fullness was unexpectedly enjoyable, although Will wasn't about to spoil the moment by reflecting on how much bigger Jack's cock was, but Jack's finger was moving in him as if there was something more than just stretching him open to be done.

Oh. That. Right there.

Will gripped Jack's hair tightly and bucked. He didn't know what had just happened, only that he wanted it to happen again. "Jack, oh, again, please," he hissed through gritted teeth. Pleasure shouldn't be that concentrated, he thought in a haze. It's too much like pain. And he thought he might die if he didn't feel it again. Just like…that.

Jack grinned around Will's cock. Just as sensitive inside as he was outside, as Jack had hoped all along. But this was beyond what he hoped for. Will was keening now, lurching under him madly, and stiffening in his mouth to what must have been a painful extent.

Although it had been his goal all along, he was taken by surprise by the force of Will's orgasm. Normally when Will came in his mouth it was flooded with sweet taste and creamy texture he could savour and let slide down his throat. But now his mouth was instantly overflowing and he choked when the wide head of Will's cock butted violently at the back of his mouth. The tight ring of muscle threatened to crush his finger and internal muscles rippled along it, giving Jack no choice but to think of how that would feel around his cock.

He gave a hoarse cry and thrust his cock forward, connecting with Will's foot. The crush of heated cock against jutting ankle bone was enough to send him over the edge, and he set off instantly, bathing Will's foot with his slick release.

Now Jack found himself in an embarrassing situation, because it made him look like an inexperienced youth. Come dripping from his beard, spent cock twitching ineffectively in a pool of his own come, on the boy's ankle, heaven help him, and his finger inexplicably incapable of leaving its tight, hot resting place. He wanted to remain there, with at least some part of him inside Will, forever. His reluctance to let the boy go was immature to say the least, and showed an appalling lack of concern for his lover. No finesse at all.

Not that Will was aware of any of this. His eyes were still rolled back in their sockets, and his whole body hummed form the power of his orgasm, so it was quite some time before he became aware of a faint wetness around his ankle, and that Jack was wiping it up with a damp rag. And that Jack's other hand was still between his legs with one finger still firmly entrenched.

And Jack nuzzled Will's throat, breathing in the scent of his hair.

"Jack," he heard. He blinked. Looked down at leather-clad boots and strong thighs. Boots he would have crossed behind his waist. With any luck it would be tonight.

"Jack," Will repeated. "We have to help Alphonse."

Jack grinned, gold teeth flashing in the sunlight. "Sorry, luv, just thinking about last night." He gave Will's bum a light pat and watched the crimson creep up Will's face. Lovely, he thought. Just lovely.

If patience were not a virtue, Jack would have pegged it as a wicked sin. Because drawing this out, giving Will a little at a time, working his way slowly to the inevitable climax, no matter many climaxes would occur in the interim, that was going to be far more decadent and satisfying than jumping to the finish line in one go.

And at this moment in time, nothing could be more wicked or desirable than taking his time.

*****

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