jackxwill - pirates of the caribbean slash

Title: Mine and Yours
Authors: Veronica Rich and N. Ranken
Email: verthefirst@yahoo.com and spooniekid@yahoo.com
Pairing: J/W
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Just what is it that says "I have a claim upon this person"?
Notes: This story and "Shining" have been moved in here since they were kicked from catthause.com with no warning. Neither Ms. Rich nor I own any of the canon characters; we're just having some fun playing with them. We make no profit from them and there is no profit in suing us.


Sometimes, life really could be unbearable, Jack mused, taking in the sight of Will asleep on his bunk, in Jack’s clothes, barefoot and exhausted. The young man had most of his own damaged or destroyed in the last storm and had resorted to borrowing the pirate’s until they could get into port and get him new ones. The visage of the smith curled up around Jack's pillow, one hand tightly closed, calves and forearms fully exposed by the too-small clothes tugged at the pirate’s heart – Will had declined the few offers he had from those few in the crew who were close to his size, though generally bigger in girth. Will reasoned that he could still move in Jack’s clothing, even if it was a little tight, whereas he’d been swimming in some of the others. Jack pulled the old pea blanket at the end of the bed over the younger man, pausing as he slid the thick cloth up the smith’s shoulders to brush some hair out of Will's eye, picking it up gingerly to move it back with the rest of the locks.

Will nurfled, his hand opening, sparkles falling from it to the floor, and Jack could see they were beads, wide-bored and very new. Jack drew back and bent a bit, looking to see how many had made the noise. Perhaps there are only a few, he thought, getting down to one knee to pick them up, scooping them in his right hand, glancing at each in turn. He picked out a few true gem beads, along with metal ones, and one of coral – salmon-coloured coral. Well, Jack concluded, he'd only have the beads if he were working on them or ready to display them. However, none of the smith’s tools were in sight, and the cabin wasn't the place to come to work anyway. He must have been bringing them to show to me… but if that's the only thing he was going to do, why is he here? He knew I’d be up on deck, not here. Jack sat back on one heel, pondering this with a slight furrow of his brow. The beads, coupled with the fact this wasn't the first time he'd found Will asleep in his bunk, started working the cogs of his mind.

Will let out another snuffling “mrrph,” tightening on the pillow, a small smile as he sighed in his sleep. His fingers flexed, the slide of cotton against wool under the blanket ringing thick in the air, and Jack found himself wishing those fingers were tightening on his skin. There were a lot of possible explanations as to why Will was snoozing in his quarters. It could be as simple as the fact the captain has the most comfortable bed on board, his mind supplied, though he realised his head was shaking on its own, negating the thought before it even finished crossing. Beneath it all was the wrenching realization of his own heart as he watched how Will held to that pillow; he wanted those arms around him that way, that smile and murmuring against him – the very sight was enough to tempt Jack to take off his hat and coat and crawl in with the smith.

Watching the man sleep, Jack was able to acknowledge the ache safely, without an audience to ridicule or remind him he was too old for such romantic piffle. He ached to crawl into those arms, to wrap his own around that lithe form. He ached to brush his fingers across the ends of that hair, to feel it wrap around the tip of his nose and tickle. His nose twitched in empathy, and he couldn't help a quick, silent chuckle to himself; so vivid a thought. He wanted more, far more than he had any right to demand or expect from someone so young, so inexperienced, so relatively innocent still of the world and its evils – and yet so conversant with many of them. Loss. Grief. Solitude. Rejection. He knew Will had endured these more than most men his age, as well as major upheavals in his life at regular intervals.

For a few moments, he was tempted to get up and leave quietly, letting Will have his nap – after all, it wasn't as though he didn't deserve the rest. But he wanted to give him back his beads. Decision made, he reached over and gently shook the young man's shoulder. "Will," he tried, quietly, then raised his voice a bit. "Wake up – c'mon, ye dropped some things." He snapped his fingers near Will's face.

A frown formed, and Will clutched the pillow to his chest, shaking his head. "No," he mumbled sleepily. "Y'll wake up Jack, go 'way."

He frowned at the odd choice of words. "Will, you dropped some things. Wake up, mate."

Will opened his eyes, lashes fluttering as he was pulled from his unconscious embrace. He raised dark eyes to Jack's, tender skin around his eyes crinkling as he blinked, trying to restore his vision. "Jack?" he asked, confused. "Why aren't you-" he looked down at the pillow he was still holding onto, then quickly back up at the pirate, brown eyes wide. He blinked, shuttering them again, and looked up into the dark orbs of his captain. "I mean, hello ..."

Jack chuckled softly. "An' good evenin' to you, Sleeping Beauty. You dropped a few things." He took Will's hand and turned it so the palm was up, then carefully let the beads trickle out of his half-closed fist into the other man's palm. He paused and swallowed slightly at the brush of their skin, but finished emptying his fist, then, without thinking, folded Will's fingers gently over the small objects.

Will stared at their hands a moment, unable to react from the sweet touch of the man's fingers on his, but his eyes widened as he felt Jack's heat drawing away from him. "No, don't," he hummed, voice thick with sleep, throat relaxed and remembering how to speak. "They're yours." His hand followed the older man’s as it moved back a few inches, keeping the contact of flesh on flesh. "I made them for you."

"I figured as much, lad. But I didn' want t' presume 'pon ye." He didn't release Will's hand either, and against his better judgment, kept his eyes on Will's large, amber ones. The pupils were expanded from sleep, nearly filling the irises, but he could just make out the flecks of gold among warm onyx, framed by long, sun-lightened brown lashes. Again, Jack barely swallowed, the perfect beauty of the moment imprinting on his mind so he could savour it later.

The smith's lips curved up into a lazy, unpretentious smile as he held Jack's gaze. "Never a presumption, Jack," At that moment, his jaw began to twitch, and he was pulled back onto the bed by the force of his own muscles, mouth opening wide in a yawn as his muscles stretched him one way, then another, his slightly-small clothes tightening and bunching dynamically as he slid around the bed, helpless to his body's demand for motion. He did, however, keep his one hand tightly shut so as to not spill the beads again. When he was released from his involuntary motion, he flopped back bonelessly on the bed, completely relaxed, and his eyes flickered open, sliding lazily to catch the pirate's again, hair slightly mussed and spread about his head, mocha tendrils curling over the ivory pillowcase. "Got a real comfy bed ... don't mean to keep falling asleep in it. Just sleep so much better here than in my cabin."

"An' why do you think tha' is?" Jack was still on one knee beside the bed, his arm resting on the bunk. "Prob'ly better mattress ... I like goose down. Call it a weakness," he chuckled, casting his eyes down briefly as he did, lashes brushing the tops of his sharp cheekbones.

"Mmm, that might have something to do with it," Will replied, giving Jack a cryptic glance, running one hand over the bed as if testing for feathers. Could also be something to do with the fact that I love this place because it carries your scent, and I absolutely adore waking up with that scent all over me. "Enjoying yourself isn't a weakness, and you know it."

"Aye, Will, watch who you're talkin' to - 'member, I'm th' poster child for hedonism," Jack waved a forefinger half-warningly, clucking his tongue and lightly shaking his head.

"So, then you can't possibly argue my point, then, can you?" Will returned with a grin. "Then again, I half expect you to bend me over a boom again for creeping into the Captain's quarters when he's not around. I'm sure that nobody else in the crew comes in here like this; could smell 'em if they did ..." There was a territorial set to his jaw, which the young man quickly wiggled away; yes, Will’s nose was sensitive enough to tell had anyone else spent any great length of time in this room, other than Jack and himself.

And then Jack responded in a way he hadn't quite expected. "I believe you'll find I'm most accommodatin' where you're concerned, Will. Not like I think you're gon' clean out me cabin, af'er all."

Will closed his eyes at that, a large smile coming over his face. "Hang on – I need to bask in the contentment of being special for once." His tone was full of light humour, but there was an undercurrent of steel to it, ringing pointedly through the air of the cabin. At least he's willing to be nice to you because of your age and your father...

"Don' give me tha'. 'Lizbeth thought ye were special 'nough; so'd Brown, for all 'is drinkin' an' lazin' 'round. I doubt 'e would've cracked a bottle still containin' anythin' alcoholic o'er someone's head for anyone else, mate."

Will cracked his eyes and slid them sidelong to deliver a veiled glarelet at the pirate. "Elizabeth didn't know what she wanted; she'd promised to watch out for me, and she thought she knew how to do it. Brown ... he didn't like people coming into his shop, and he didn't even remember doing it." The young man's voice buzzed low in his throat, a rattlesnake's rebuttal issuing.

"Well, Will, I jus' don' know, then." Jack spread his hands, then leaned forward, a wicked glint in his dark eyes. "What 'zactly does it take t' convince Will Turner someone thinks 'e's worth somethin'? That he's special, an' not jus' some passin' warm body through a life?"

"You do a good job of it just doing what you do," Will replied, closing his eyes again, brow creasing, but straightening in a deliberate manner as he attempted to shield his emotions.

"Is tha' all it really takes, then? Jus' bein' a decent human being? 'Cause I'm at a loss – help me, 'ere, mate. I thought sure 'Lizbeth was decent; I'm pretty sure Brown was, despite all. So's the Guv'ner an', when 'e's pressed, e'en th' Commodore ain' such a pain in th' arse. None o' 'em e'er treated ye rotten, did they?"

"None of them ever treated me like I was special, either." Will sighed. "Elizabeth's emotions would blow hot and cold, and I couldn’t keep up with them ... she had a temper, and I never quite knew how to handle it. Mr. Brown was a good enough caretaker, I suppose, but he wanted to retreat into himself when I was able to create at the forge, rather than just cast things in moulds. The Commodore was not a staple figure in my life – he was more talked about than talked to, and I didn't see him too awfully much, not like Elizabeth did."

Jack lifted himself a bit off the floor, frowning reflexively at the small ache in his knee – he wasn't as young as he used to be, and those hard boards against such a small, tender spot for any length of time were not kind. He stood enough to take a seat on the edge of the bed, sighing at the increased comfort level. "So ye ne'er had any friends? Surely there were other boys on th' island, e'en in your own class, tha' ye could associate with."

"Class?" Will asked, opening his eyes again. "Governor Swann allowed me to attend the tutor that worked with Elizabeth. That's a lot of why we drifted apart when she left – she kept on learning; I kept on creating. Most of the other boys on the island were too old or too young, and Jean left when we were twelve. The others were too British to associate with ‘the blacksmith's boy.’" There was a tinge of bitterness to his voice as he spoke about his childhood.

"I learned to lock everyone out, push everyone away. Not even Elizabeth could get in all the way, and then she left me behind, too. So, I locked up to everyone ... I don't like getting close to anyone, because I know it gives them a way to hurt me, and I'm tired of being left behind because I'm not good enough." Indeed, Will felt himself starting to shutter in the wake of the painful memories, psyche automatically trying to draw away from the man beside him, the one man he'd decided he wanted to open up to in the hopes of getting to know better.

Scooting over further on the bed, Jack turned toward the head of the bunk and brought both unbooted feet up, crossing his legs and folding them before him, looking for all the world like an overgrown child playing dress-up in a rogue's coat and hat. "'S not easy bein' alone," he empathized, careful not to let pity creep into his voice. "'Specially when th' world seems designed for groups instead o' onesies – or, worse yet, for twos."

"Yes, I know," Will sighed. "So, I suppose we just have to keep trying to be more than enough to ourselves, and tell ourselves we don't really need anything else. Maybe we'll lie to ourselves long enough that we'll believe it." Will looked up at the man who now sat very close to him, close enough to touch, though he may have been miles away for all that Will couldn’t risk reaching up. "Does it ever go away, Jack? Or does it eat at you so badly for so long that all you have to dull it is the rum?"

A smile quirked his lips, and he was distantly aware he probably resembled one of Norrington's expressions at this point as he lowered his eyes and picked at a thread on the cuff of his trousers. "You can get used t' anythin'," he mused quietly. "Even bein' alone, Will. Jus' takes not havin' anyone long 'nough."

"But, you're not alone, not technically... There's the crew and other pirates and the whores in port, and everything. You aren't alone except in your heart. You can't let anyone in because you're the captain, and if someone latched onto that and took it as a weakness, you and the crew could be killed or worse. So, you have to lock everyone out so nobody can hurt the people you care about. Me, I just don't have anyone I'd be allowed to care about."

"Well ... then ye've painted yourself into a corner, 'aven't ye, mate? Sounds like it's one o' your own makin'."

"I'm very good at making things out of iron," was the vague reply.

"But tha's part o' the problem, isn't it? You still see yourself firs' an' foremost as a blacksmith, Will. Possibly e'en an apprentice, still." He turned a bit more to face the younger man, leaning forward a hair to address him. "As a worker, a craftsman, possibly – but not a pirate. Not a wanted man, not a dangerous man. Not a bold or darin' man. Not a passionate, funny, risky man. Good, t' be sure, but not great. Nothin' ... special," he finished, cocking his head, a slight squint to his dark eyes, awaiting the answer.

"I'm not just a blacksmith – I’m Pearl's blacksmith," came the hollow reply, rolling too easily off the tongue. I'm not anything special. I'm not wanted by anyone except the governments of a few countries for taking things that don't belong to me. I'm only dangerous when I'm threatened. Or when Jack's threatened. Or when someone even thinks about touching Pearl. I'm not bold, not daring – I'm rash and stupid. That young Will Turner, always acts without thinking. My passion is for my craft and the Pearl. I don't have anything else. I don't tell jokes, I don't take risks except when I'm engaged in those "stupid" actions ... I'm just boring, young Will Turner who's trying to make sense of where he is and who he's not.

It was in those words Jack saw his folly. To say he was completely independent was oversimplifying matters; he was colourful, wild, lusty, and completely his own master. Most of the time, anyway. He could pretend easily enough, at this point, that he was a self-made man. But it was far harder to admit the truth – a truth young William needed to hear, now more than ever.

"No, mate ... you're much more 'n that, an' it's my fault for you not knowin' it. I 'member when I first set out on th' seas – God knows I was younger than you, but I had me own reasons for it. Point is, I didn' get where I am all by m'self – nobody does, really. I had plenty o' teachers 'long th' way, both willin' and unwillin' – pleasurable and painful. All were nec'sary to me gettin' where I am now, an' I s'pose it's up to individuals t' judge jus' what a waste or an adventure me life is up t' this point." He held up a hand to stave off comment. "Now, lemme finish, lad."

He removed his hat, playing with the edges of the worn leather absently as he collected his words. "You'll ne'er believe it, but ye remind me more o' me when I was a lot younger than you'll e'er know. Not tha' we're 'zactly alike, or e'en much alike – but there're similarities. I, too, didn' think I'd e'er amount to much. I may not've," he added with a wide grin, gesturing around with the hat, briefly, at his pirate's life. "But I've 'ad a lot o' fun tryin' to figure it out. An' I think tha's what ye've been lackin' – a sense of adventure, o' fun. Here ye give up your life, come t' sea, an' you end up doin' the same old shite ye've always had t' do. Now I know-" he staved off a protest. "I know ye like your forge an' your work. Ain' nothin' wrong wit' it. But ye've got t' do some other things once in awhile, mate. An' not jus' fun things – let yourself go. Take some risks.

"I hold m'self accountable for ye not knowin' th' risks ye ought t' be takin', rightly. An' I've been lackin' in your education other ways, too. As I said, I didn' get t' be th' legend I am-" At this, Jack rolled his eyes self-deprecatingly and laughed with genuine humour, "by m'self. An' 'ere I've been 'spectin' you t' jus' pick up things as ye go along, ask for what ye need an' want. I been too dense t' take th' bull by th' horns, as it were, an' introduce ye to life as I ought."

"I suppose that will make sense someday," Will sighed after pondering the man's words. "If there are things you know I'm missing, I would hope you'd at least direct me to where I can learn them." Will's chest felt heavy as the iron inside him slammed down, tightening across his mind and heart again to button himself up, not having the comforting, physical reminder of his tendency towards rashness to press at his chest and mind. God, I miss my vest ...

Jack congratulated his extreme limberness for his next maneuver, which consisted of him leaning forward over his legs in a way that allowed the legs to flip over and unfold behind him, so that he was essentially on his stomach, resting on his elbows. Or one elbow, rather; the other hand was sliding up the side of Will's jaw as he leaned forward, easing into those lips, careful to part them slowly, taking his time in opening the younger man to his touch.

A thick, heavy jolt speared the smith at the sensation of the soft, pouty lips upon his, a jolt that resounded out from the pit of his stomach to jerk all the way into his toes, then back again. When Jack parted his lips, Will could only respond in kind, the tapping of that rum-spiced tongue sending another jolt through him that shook his entire body in a brief, slight spasm, tearing a small noise from his throat to be swallowed by the pirate. When Jack pulled back a bit, Will's confused, darkened eyes searched the depthless ones in front of him. "Which lesson is this?" he queried, voice barely there in his breathlessness.

"In acceptin' th' consequences of your actions, an' decidin' af'er th' fact if they're what ye wanted," he elucidated, eyes twinkling with amber fire. "Don' you dare tell me you don' realize how beautiful you are, an' what effect you'd 'ave on me, lounging about in me own clothes ... showin' off those long legs, tha' lovely arse, tha' 'squisite mane." His eyes travelled up to rest on the smith's hair, and his fingers played idly with some of it near his ear. "My God, you've practically been beggin' for it for some time now – only I was too fool an' too cowardly t' take th' bait." He pressed another kiss, this one harder, to the man's lips – they were warm and sweet with the yeast bread they'd all eaten at supper, and sinfully wet as the two practically sipped from one another. "Such a sweet sight it's been, though ... an' tha' night on deck polishin' those jewels ... Jesus, Will, I mean ye might as well've jus' asked outright t' polish mine." His tone was purring, almost growling, heatedly.

Will smiled back at the pirate, eyes blinking in contentment. "Don't forget covered in your scent, cuddling to your pillow, sleeping in your bed," he reminded the man, then brought the one hand up, opening the fingers to show the bits and bobs he'd originally brought. "I polish your gems until they shine before I give them to you to adorn yourself with, helping you sparkle and shine ... though nothing could outshine your nature, you know."

Jack stroked his hair, noting the fine softness of the strands, and the depth of those dark eyes, watching him confess. He hadn't guessed at the depth of Will's emotion – he'd just figured the lad lusted after him, wanted some experience, wanted to satisfy his curiosity on a man who looked as though he'd know what he was doing in bed.

He hadn't savvied that Will loved him, especially this desperately.

It did make life a bit easier, in the sense that Jack already knew he'd loved Will for quite some time; the question was, was this some blind infatuation, an ideal Will held, that would be dashed the first time he had to suffer one of Jack's inexplicable moods? Or perhaps he'd want to be quit of the older pirate after their first argument, deciding he wasn't worth nearly as much trouble as someone younger and more female.

"An' to put ownership on me," Jack pointed out, his lips curving into an assessing smirk that resembled for all the world a pout. "Let it be known e'ery time someone wants t' know th' stories behind me trinkets, it all comes back t' you, love."

"Mmm, I like hearing that, you know," Will purred as his eyes fell half-closed, fixating on that pout. "Jack Sparrow, lusty pirate, Casanova of the seven seas, done up in one smith's baubles, living in a home that smith refit himself ... I'm all around you, Jack, and when I'm in here, you're all around me."

"Hmm," Jack observed, his fingers playing idly with Will's buttons. "An' I'm 'bout to be all 'round you even further."

The young smith raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Oh? And how do you figure that? I'm already in your bed, your clothes, and under you ..." He was splayed under the hovering pirate, his chest rising and falling as he drank in the sight of the flowy-draped man above him.

"Aye." Jack nodded in agreement, a fond smile beneath his well-tended moustache. "But you're not really un'er me yet, are you?" To punctuate his words, he slid a hand inside Will's borrowed shirt, fingertips skating over lean, hard muscles sculpted through years of diligent hard labour.

"I'm not exactly sure how much more ‘under’ I can get," he replied, near hand coming up to gently glide across Jack's arm, squeezing with careful grip, rolling the taut muscle under his fingers as he caressed the bronzed flesh. "I guess maybe that's another lesson I haven't picked up yet?" he offered with a teasing smirk. It grew a moment before he lifted his head up to breach the minute gap between them, fixing his lips to the pirate’s. He let his head tilt back a bit, encouraging the older man to lean down closer, opening to Jack’s questing tongue, tentatively reaching out to tap back, to give back into the kiss. The young man brought his other hand up to roll at Jack’s other arm as the pirate shifted, the slackening tension in the fabric telling the younger man that the pirate was undoing the buttons on the tight garment.

As they kissed, slowly tasting, Jack grinned around it, deciding he liked the texture of Mr. Turner's teeth. They really were lovely pearlies, well cared-for even now. It occurred to him that if the man eventually shared his berth, he'd probably get to see how he kept them in such good shape through his daily ablutions. He chuckled. "How d' you keep your teeth s' nice?" he murmured, the tip of his nose butting at Will's.

"Same way I'm sure you keep yours so fine," the young man replied, unable to focus on Jack's eyes because of their nearness, so he let his hands roam over the pirate instead, mapping out strong, linen-covered shoulders. "A toothbrush, some mint water, and about ten minutes of care."

"Ah ... another lesson y' need to learn. A bit o' pillow talk don' always make sense – purpose is to hear th' other person's voice in a way you might not 'ear it any other time."

"Ahh," Will replied in understanding. "So, just hearing me purr at you about nothing important whatsoever as I paw all over, wanting to eat you alive, that's what you're going for?" The young smith was revelling in the tactile sensation, hard muscles covered by spicy flesh, all hidden by rough linen. Hmm ... those buttons are in the way ...

"Did I e'er tell you what a quick study you are, Will?" Both laughed at that, and Jack reached up briefly to play with the smith's hair. "I just love the texture o' this – I don' know why, but somethin' 'bout the way it's wrappin' round me fingers is jus' so ... erotic."

Will glanced up a bit as his hands moved to begin sliding buttons out of their holes, eyes never leaving the pirate's. "Well, maybe it's just telling you what you already know: You have me wrapped around your finger, Jack."

The pirate lifted a dark eyebrow. "Is that so?" he mused. "Have t' remember that one." Smirking, he slid his fingers along Will's flat abdomen, tracing the muscles beneath the skin, stopping at his waistband and digging the first phalanges of his fingers inside the material, sliding back and forth along it. "Though I think it's fair t' say you've got me wrapped 'round yours, as well – or mayhaps somethin' else soon, at least ..."

Will purred deep in the back of his throat, skin racing with magma as Jack's hot fingers slid across his skin under the tight breeches. He sent a mental thank-you to Anamaria, the woman who'd given him the idea as well as the gumption to act on it.

The dark woman sighed, looking at the smith. "You do realise it isn't working, don't you, Will?"

The young man's brow drew up into a confused crease. "What? What isn't working?"

Anamaria shook her head as she drew the smith aside, sighing. "Ye're too damn subtle – he don' see subtle. Best way t' get into Jack's trousers is t' get into his trousers, see?"

Will shook his head. "No, I'm afraid, I don't, sorry ... if I was- if I was with the captain, I wouldn't need to get with him ..." He was unsure as to why he felt like trusting the dark woman with this; it was something he was having trouble coming to terms with himself, much less to speak of.

"No, not what I mean. Get into 'is trousers ... an' his shirt, an' cabin an' such. Ye've claimed him s' bright the whole crew kin see 't, y'know. Not blind, except tha' man. 'E likes you, Will, jus' doesn' wan' see it."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Bein' by yer lonesome gets comf' able once ye've been hurt, lad." She patted him on the shoulder. "E'll never come t' ye. Go on ... for all our sakes," she'd added under her breath.


“Something else? Is it my turn to whack you with the boom?" he asked insouciantly, muscles in his legs trembling as they yearned to arch up into the touch, to force a more direct contact. Only Will's incredible control kept him from giving in, wanting to let Jack take this in the direction he was most familiar with, to learn the pirate's rhythm and methods.

"You're awfully immodest if ye think that." Jack was enjoying the verbal sparring, warmth in his voice as his fingers withdrew, moving down over the material, stroking through the fabric. He could easily make out the strain of Will's erection, and closed his fingers around it lightly. "So you're not a eunuch," he hummed softly.

Will shook his head as a groan was torn from his throat at the touch. He fought to keep his eyes open, obscenely long lashes fluttering as he struggled before regaining himself, sliding one hand from Jack's back down to slide over his breeches in answer. "Neither are you, I see."

"Make for a rather brief encounter, I'd think," Jack answered, again chuckling. Something about Will made him light in both heart and soul, and he wondered if he'd held back too long and deprived both of them of levity and love. His fingers pulled at the ties, his palm massaging through the trousers as he made short work of what held them in place. Occasionally he wandered away to caress Will's hip through the pants, reaching down to cup the side of his beautifully-high ass.

The sensation of Jack touching him was more intense than anything he'd ever experienced; not even getting caught by embers at his forge could measure up to this roiling, simmering heat. "Mm, I suppose ..." the young man managed, trying to keep his head and not drown in the sensations, sliding his cupping hand up to smooth over the slim planes of the pirate's abdomen, the ends of the opened shirt ruffling the slightly-tanned skin, brushing the light, barely-visible down on his arm. It tickled slightly, but he was willing to deal for the sake of having Jack's bronzed flesh under his palm.

"It's all right, y' know," Jack reassured Will. "You can let go ... we'll have plenty of other times to learn th' particulars o' one another. Jus' enjoy." With that, Jack loosened the ties and tugged at either side of the trousers, receiving aid as Will lifted his hips a couple of times, his hand then lifting to stroke the hardness. Jack glanced down at it, running a fingertip around the head, noting the slight arch in the organ and how it rested in his hand.

He inhaled sharply at the touch of the man's hand. "L-Letting go is n-not something I'm good at, Jack. Usually, if I'm doing that, I'm d-doing something stupid," he replied before his head levered down onto the pillow, eyes flicking shut as he concentrated on the texture of Jack's rope-roughened fingers on his sensitive shaft. Another groan was pulled from him, desire overturning his control as his breath began to come more raggedly, increasing pace but losing depth as his heartbeat kicked up in response.

Jack paused only long enough to lever himself up and pull the pants the rest of the way off, then leaned back in, nestling closer to Will, sliding his hand down beneath the soft scrotum, running his fingertips along the smooth flesh, watching the other man's reactions. "I've wanted to touch you for some time," Jack told him in a low voice. "Long time, actually; wondered what it'd feel like." His fingers drifted back up to fist the erection, tugging gingerly. "You can do it – c'mon, Will ..."

Will's head rocked back and forth on the pillow, beginning to lose himself. Jack was at his hips, openly confessing that he'd wanted his hands on the smith for a long time, wanted to touch, to see what it would be to make this kind of contact. It tugged at his heart as well as his groin, and he felt himself jump in those strong hands as they worked. "Do what, Jack? Can- can't reach you down there," he noised, one hand scrabbling on the bedclothes as proof that indeed, his arms were not that long.

"Your turn's next, love. I don' give wit'out expectin' in return." Jack leaned in, drawing Will's earlobe between his lips, laving his tongue up along the outer shell of his ear. "Don' worry 'bout me right now, though. Concentrate on yourself. Just ... feel."

Will allowed himself to give into the sensations around him, Jack's body beside him, hand working smoothly over his shaft. Soft noises and gasps greeted the pirate's ears, sliding from the smith's throat as the man worked, increasing slightly as Jack sped up or changed pressure.

"Such strong muscles," Jack praised softly, tasting the outer rim of Will's ear canal. "Such control ... to be th' one to breach tha' control, destroy it, leave it in a puddle ... leave you in a puddle ... th' way you quiver and clutch." He lowered his head, burying his nose into the side of Will's neck. "Th' way you smell," he muffled against the man's shoulder. "I'm addicted t' your scent, Will, fillin' me senses." His hand still moved gracefully, steadily, and he kissed the underside of the square jaw.

Will turned his head to capture the nuzzling lips in his own... Not that he didn't love hearing Jack speak, but his control was straining, fracturing, threatening to collapse into hundreds of tiny pieces around him, and he needed that mouth against his, confirming that this wasn't one of his fevered dreams, from which he awoke from the touch of those pouting lips, unable to make sense of pressure he'd never received. Inhaling deeply, Will pressed into the hungry kiss, surrounding himself in the man's scent, arm coming up to hook around Jack's neck as his hips began moving on their own, his control flaking away.

Jack parted his lips, allowing Will to delve deeply inside, his tongue stabbing at and twining with his own. Their kiss was filled with heat, soft, wet sucking sounds punctuating Will's ragged breathing as Jack's right hand came up to slide beneath Will's head. The other hand roamed, Jack's palm alternately cradling Will's slick shaft and caressing the tightening balls. He wanted to explore other parts of Will, to investigate his neck further, the creases of his knees, to tickle the spaces between his toes – but there was time.

Will felt his entire body tighten, the arm holding Jack's neck pulling in beyond the smith's control. He pulled away from the heated, absorptive kiss, pressing his forehead into Jack's shoulder as his body jerked and shuddered, release flashing though him like wildfire. The smith's breathing was loud, ragged as his chest worked to keep him in oxygen, gasping in between groans, the pleasure made all the sweeter by the knowledge that it was Jack's hand, not his own, that had brought the man to this point.

"Breathe, love." Jack's hand still moved, much more slowly, his touch now reassuring instead of cataclysmic, stroking the slick, sticky, softening penis. He kissed the top of Will's head, dipping his chin into those caramel waves and breathing deeply himself, blinking, trying to steady his heartbeat after that experience. Will had been so quiet and responsive, still waters stirred to boiling by pleasure. It pleased Jack to know he could incite such passion in Will, and he kissed the hair again. "Feel better?" he murmured solicitously.

About to sigh an affirmative, Will smirked to himself, then shook his head. "Only a little," he sighed. He reached an arm up to cup the older man's wide-awake shaft through his breeches and gave a firm squeeze. "You're much too tense for me to relax."

Jack's senses were swimming. "By all means," he murmured in offer, giving the hair a last kiss before moving to his side to face Will, giving him better access to his body.

The younger man pulled his hand back a bit to undo the laces, working with the pirate to slide the breeches down and off, smiling when Jack took a moment to shrug the shirt off his shoulders and somewhere onto the floor. He felt a cloth bumping his hand and realised the pirate had grabbed one to wipe his hand. Cleaning off, Will discarded the cloth and curled around Jack's side, spending time sliding over the man's hipbones and inner thighs, teasing the area around the pirate's shaft before dragging his fingers lightly up the underside of the curved organ, rolling them over the vein as Jack jumped and shuddered under the touch.

He sighed, his breathing nearly as rough as those blacksmith's fingers – those calloused, hard, wonderfully sensitising fingers. Jack's head sank into the pillow, his eyes closing in pleasure as he panted under Will's explorations. He rested a hand on the back of Will's as the younger man pumped him, wanting to feel some connection, desperate to feel Will any way he could from this position. "Kiss me," he demanded, dragging his eyes open halfway, watching Will's expressions.

Will shifted his body to lean over the pirate, resting half on him, half on the bed, one hand working at the iron-velvet flesh as he brought his head down to nuzzle his nose to the other man's. "So shining, beautiful, my Jack," he hummed, chest vibrating against the older man's. He then reached down for a soft kiss, one deliberately counterpoint to his roving fingers, giving Jack the opportunity to deepen if he wished. One of the smith's legs was hooked over the pirate's thigh, pinning him, restricting the man's ability to push into Will's hand as it slid over sensitive flesh, cradling the darkly-furred sac beneath the shaft, sliding up to roll thumb and forefinger under the head before sliding palm over the squishy tip, then back down, slick with the pirate's own juice.

Jack's hand eased up Will's working arm, then gripped beneath his elbow, holding on for dear life at the man's touch. His lips parted against Will's, breathing hard, eyes rolling back into his forehead as he caught sight of the glint in those narrowed, dark eyes, the small, smug set to the smith's jaw as his lips curved up at the corners slightly. To Jack, he appeared terribly satisfied by his power over the pirate, proud of the effect he had ... and it set Jack's heart to racing harder. A confident Will was a gorgeous Will, and more desirable than any simpering wench.

Pulling back from the pirate's lips slightly, Will speared him with depthless, molten orbs, murmuring ghost whispers against the other man's mouth, curling his words over heated flesh before they slid inside Jack's ears. "Tense, aren't you, little foxy? Having my hands all over you, smoothing out your planes with my sand, making you shine and glimmer ... belong to the roe deer, now, don't you, Jack? You belong to the roe deer and he belongs to you ... your turn to let go, let me be the one to take care of you." His hand increased speed slightly, the other twisting to join it, sliding strong fingers around to caress and roll the pebbled sac with utmost care, goading Jack toward release.

Jack gasped, feeling beads of sweat on his brow. He licked his upper lip, also coated in moisture, a mixture of perspiration and Will's saliva, his moustache damp with it. His hips rose and fell in rapid rhythm, his hand still fastened like iron to Will's forearm. The other man's words permeated his fogged mind, sharpened his focal point, and he shut his eyes, then opened them again, determined to hold Will's gaze through this. It was nearly painful, the pressure building up in his groin – so much skin near his, sweet, virginal, sweaty skin hovering over his own nude body, begging to be crushed to him, to slide against his dark flesh. "Don' make me-" he began, licking his lips, not sure what he'd been about to say. "I mean ... yeah, yeah, oh ... touch ... touch, Will ..." He closed his eyes again, unable to hold the gaze, the force of his orgasm in a few last hip-jerks forcing his head back into the pillow, arching his chin up, Adam's apple working desperately on the small, gravelled sounds pouring from his throat.

"Ahh," Will purred with the man as he worked out his climax with jerking intensity. "That's it, so good, so beautiful," he hummed soothingly, helping Jack down from his high before retrieving the cloth, catching the sticky essence, Jack's cooling expression mingling with Will's own. He fitted himself up against the pirate's side, one arm coming over the man's midsection as he rested his cheek on Jack's shoulder. He gave the flesh near his mouth a kiss as he listened to the frantic thumping of the man's heart, how it began to slow from the high and return to its normal state. Quick and pulsing, the heartbeat, just like a small animal.

As soon as Jack recovered enough breath, he shifted slightly and turned his head into Will's, covering his mouth in a kiss, bringing his left hand up to cradle his jaw and hold him there. Their thighs bumped, slid, then Jack eased a knee between Will's, sighing at the prolonged, warm contact.

This was probably as close to heaven as Will Turner was ever going to get, and he decided to make the best of it. He met Jack's kiss with equality, never giving too hard, never taking too much, complementing the older man's passion, making them equals. He felt Jack's thigh nudging at him and he shifted enough to allow the man closer, sighing at the feel of their legs tangled together in such a manner that he could not tell where he himself ended and Jack Sparrow began. It was comforting, thrilling to actually belong and be wanted somewhere, almost as much as being able to love his captain – almost.

"What d' you think o' your first lesson?" Jack murmured, butting his nose against Will's in playful imitation of the deer he'd been called.

"I think I'm going to need many, many more," Will sighed, nuzzling right back. "Don't know that I'll ever learn it right .... just have to keep working on them, I suppose, if you don't mind."

"Praise God for perfectionist blacksmiths," Jack laughed, rubbing himself in a most fetching manner against Will.

"Just me. Any other ones, I'll have to kill and send them off into the drink." There was a scowl on the young man’s face and in his voice as he rebutted the statement.

"Awfully possessive ... guess me days of distributin' lessons among th' populace're over."

"Providing you still want to have a pupil waiting for you when you get back, yes," Will huffed.

"Be lots o' broken 'earts 'cross th' Caribee," Jack sighed dramatically, pulling a thoughtful pout and rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

Will merely shrugged. "I'm a pirate now – I take what belongs to others and make it my own."

"Hmm." Jack lowered his hand to gently squeeze Will's shaft, almost experimentally. "What do ye know – so do I." He lifted the arm to drape over the man's slender hip, nestling his head against the smith’s chest.

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