Title: Liquid Courage
Author: The Mad Fangirl (email@example.com)
Summary: Will gets into a drunken brawl.
Archive: Jack x Will archive, natch. Anywhere else, just ask, I'll almost always say aye!
Disclaimer: The usual. Not mine, savvy?
Warnings: Hot guy-guy action. Not much plot.
My Bits: Not (necessarily) Taxverse. Established relationship. Drunk!Will ;)
Written for: Ponderosa121 of the really gorgeous artwork. Request: Something with swords and/or fighting, and if there's sex, Will topping Jack please. No non-con.
Thanks to Juniper200 for the beta!
Since the comely Turner lad had begun sailing with ~Captain~ Jack Sparrow, Jack had had frequent occasion to wish for the whelp to loosen up just a tad. Certainly, it would have made sharing a ship with him easier, and sharing a bed *considerably* easier. Not that he wanted the whelp back to sleeping elsewhere, mind. Still, even if his concerted efforts hadn't been enough to locate and remove the stick lodged in William's aft hatch, he could wish, and wish he did. Of course, he knew what Gibbs often said about wishing.
And now a little voice that sounded oddly like Gibbs was chanting, "I told you so...."
Jack ducked as an earthenware mug shattered against the wall behind his head. Dishes flew by, candlelight glinted off swift steel. The rest of his crew was lost somewhere in this melee, and his best bloody swordsman, the cause of all the madness to start with...
...was drunk off his arse, making him somewhat less precise than usual. Jack was fairly sure two of his dreadlocks were now shorter by a good foot.
He must have been fingering his hair, for Will spoke. "I said I was -hic- sorry."
"Least it weren't me neck, lad." Low slash and an assailant went down, hamstrung, and someone else immediately tripped over the fallen mans head. "Did you *have* t' insult his sword?"
"It was garbage! Inferior product, Jack, I could have made it as a first-year apprentice. He had a right to know he'd been taken advantage of."
"Will, he very likely stole it."
"Oh." Will's brow furrowed, pondering. With drunken care, he added, "Well, I suppose he hadn't much right to complain, then, did he?" Will looked around the overturned table, threw a knife, and winced at a high-pitched cry.
"Well, at least your *throwing* aim's holding up."
"Yes, but I meant to land the blade in his thigh, not the hilt on his-"
Will ducked back and pulled in close. Jack cursed under his breath because the alcohol didn't make Will smell sour, like a man on a long drunk ought. Instead, he just smelled *better,* like Will *and* rum, and now really was not the time for distractions...
A fist punched through the table and Jack scrambled away, pulling Will with him. The bald giant who'd done it roared and shook his arm, the table shaking with him.
"Ah - Aye?"
"Aye! Avast!" And his weaving sword sent brawlers stumbling from their path. They were there, nearly there - and just before they reached the door, another sword caught William's.
"Ye're not goin' anywhere, ye tick on a bitch's backside!"
"I said I was sorry! But look how it's scoring, and mine isn't even touched. You'll notice -"
"Will, *not* helping..."
"That's it! First ye called me sword trash, then ye called me wife ugly-"
"You mean that wasn't your brother?"
Jack raised one palm to his forehead. "Oh, now you're just doing it on purpose..." As the other swordsman pressed closer, Jack reached low, grabbed, and *twisted.* The offended scalawag gave a strangled groan and collapsed, curling inward. Then, Will firmly in tow (by the wrist), he took off into the night.
"...really awful steel..."
"Shut *up,* Will..."
* * *
The brawl had spread out of all proportion, or possibly all the island's tavern brawls had blended together. Jack had no real way of telling. He pulled Will out of the city, and from there the boy's own stumbling footsteps took them to the harbor. Now all they needed was a semi-secluded spit of land, easy to access...there! It wasn't until he'd waded into the tiny bay that Jack felt at all safe...and then the ankle-deep passage became neck-high. The moon appeared, illuminating broad-leafed trees, sand-covered rock, and the fact that they were stuck on what apparently became another island at high tide.
"D'you think we might swim back?"
"One, you're still drunk. Two..." Jack waved a hand at the inky waves. "Big shark. At least one. So, no." Brows drew tight, eyes rolled sideways. "Speaking of drunk, love, whatever possessed ye to get so potted that you regressed past incredibly stupid?"
Will sighed and leaned heavily against a pale, smooth trunk. "I suppose I deserved that."
"And if you were going to..." Jack raised both arms, hands making small circles. "...if you felt a driving need to, why, oh why, could you not have done on the Pearl? Much less trouble all around."
Will chuckled softly. "And what would that have proven?"
Jack's arms stilled. He craned his head forward. "Proven?" Hand raised to Will's shoulder, eyes meeting eyes. "Explain."
"Jack, can I - " Will paused, swallowing a hiccup. " - can I tell you a story?"
"All right..." A fluid shrug.
"When I was a child, a ship burnt down around me. My last memory before Elizabeth was a wall of flame. On the Navy ship, I flinched at candles and cook fires. So, of course, when the Governor asked me in which trade I should be apprenticed..."
"...ye chose blacksmith. " Jack frowned. "Don't do much by half measures, do you? Are you saying ye were afraid t'get drunk in public? Whatever for?"
"Well, for one, I was afraid I might do something incredibly stupid."
Jack blinked. "Oh." He started to smile, then frowned again and looked away.
Eyes slightly widened, brow furrowed, Jack gazed at a point somewhere off Will's shoulder. "'Twas pirates and the Pearl burnt that ship around you, William. So, of course, you're now a pirate, on the Pearl, and ye bed her Captain..."
Will's hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack, not moving. "Jack. Look at me..."
"...master of the Lady that had at you...not ~Captain~ Jack Sparrow, just..."
Ropy locks brushed Will's fingers as Jack turned his head, but it was to level at Will that same puzzling regard.
"Jack," Will said, with all his earnest intensity, "You know my passion for my trade. You've seen the swords I make."
"So I think it is not mere ego for me to say that, in time, I became a very *good* blacksmith."
Jack made a small choking noise in his throat, ceased breathing a second, and then broke out into a guffaw. When tears beaded in his eyes, he gasped, and paused to regard a chuckling Will.
"You do have a point, love. What matter what ended you up in me bed, when what matters is that you're in me bed. Except that neither of us is in me bed at the moment, as we're stuck on this bloody rock."
"Sorry. Again. Though, since we're here..." And Will was apparently reading his mind, or all the talk of bedding had just been properly suggestive, for the pirate smith pushed off from his tree to pin Jack against another. Two coats fell with a doubled wet *thud.* Warm hands slid beneath clinging shirts, lifting them away. Then the breeches, of course, and ahhh...calloused hands lingering in *just* the right spots...
"Do you suppose you might help me with another fear, that I might confront it head on?"
This, after a toothy kiss that lingered on his earlobe, so Jack replied with a distracted hum. Then, with a second's thought, "Love, why is it I think that may be a pun?"
Smile against his neck. "Because you're ~Captain~ Jack Sparrow?"
"That's my line, whelp!" Will pulled him away from the tree and down to ground, and Jack rested atop his mate for just a moment before the blacksmith had them flipped on their coats. "Flattery *and* forcefulness. Well. And what, exactly, might you be afraid of?"
"That you wouldn't let me..." A finger completed the thought, and Jack's eyes went wide before going half-lidded.
"You never have lacked for courage, love, but in that one arena. Drink *has* made you...mmm...bold."
"Is that a yes?" Will's other hand pinched a nipple and Jack felt himself twitch. His hands curled marking-tight around Will's arms.
"William, if you aim to be as good a pirate as you are a blacksmith..." rummaging in the clothing...oh, look, he'd found the oil... "ye need t' develop an instinct for when something's ripe for the...ah!...taking..." a stretching sensation, even as a hand's rough tightness closed about his manhood and *moved...* His fingers released, then grasped Will's back and began tapping out what might have been a reel. "Ah. Yes. Just like that. You're l-mmmmph-" The kiss was as greedy as any pirate's, certainly, and it kept on and on as Will released his mast to use both hands for leverage, pressing oh-so-slowly back and in. Then, oh, then the wonderful hand was back and the lad began a rolling motion that made the world go all odd...
"Oh...I think...you're...coming...along...Nnh...ah!" Stars, warmth, and William, eyes wild and transported, then sharp and piercing clear-
* * *
"Sobering, eh love?"
"In the best way," Will murmured, heavy atop him.
"How long did you know this spit was an island at high tide?"
"Walked around the big island when we came ashore."
"Mmm. Seems drink makes you crafty and stupid at once, then."
Then Im halfway there.
Jack levered them up and looked Will in the eye. "Eh, now?"
Will took a deep breath. "For all that I sail with you, and sleep beside you, I cannot say that I truly understand you, Jack. I thought...I thought that if I might see the world as you see it..."
"'Nother words, you thought that since I go about half-potted more than half the time, getting well and truly pissed might give ye insight into one ~Captain~ Jack Sparrow?"
"I was hoping."
"And did it?"
"Only a little. Not enough to do it often; I think I'm more likely to be a drunk like my old master than a drunk like yourself."
"I resemble that remark."
"On the other hand, while it didn't give me all that much insight into you, it did get me into you..."
"Pirate!" Jack cried, and Will looked just the least bit smug.
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