Title: Never Trust a Pirate
Author: Sparrowhawk (email@example.com)
Summary: In which Will cheats like a pirate and Jack seizes the opportune moment.
Written for: Kaija West, who wanted sex on the beach. Thanks to guede_mazaka for her helpful beta comments.
Despite Captain Jack Sparrow's devotion to the Black Pearl, sometimes it was good to go ashore. This was one of those times. He stood in the shade of a stand of palms, supervising the careening of the Pearl with a bottle in his hand and his eyes firmly fixed on Will Turner. Will was standing in knee-deep water, shirtless, breeches soaked and clinging to his lean hips and thighs, scraping barnacles with the same unwavering attention he turned to every task.
The lad was new to the Pearl's crew and Jack couldn't be happier about it -- well, that was not exactly true. Jack would have been much happier if he could throw Will down and ravage him to his heart's content -- highly unlikely, however. Jack sighed and sipped at his rum. If he couldn't touch Will, at least he could look, and look he did.
* * *
Careening was hard work, Jack declared, and broke out a fresh cask of rum for the crew at sunset. An overabundance of rum went a long way toward silencing the inevitable work-induced griping and moaning, but Jack secretly harbored hope that it might also loosen young Turner's inhibitions. Watching Will walk around half-naked and sweaty all day was sorely testing Jack's self-restraint. Jack had to have him; he just needed to find the right approach. Sad to say, he suspected asking the lad nicely for a friendly tumble was not it. Nor was getting Will drunk enough for Jack to take unfair advantage of him; Jack wanted him conscious enough to scream Jack's name like he meant it. Then an idea began to form: Will could never, never turn down a challenge. Jack grinned into his mug and pondered the possibilities.
* * *
Life aboard a pirate ship tended to get monotonous, and there were only so many things a man could do to entertain himself. Cards, dice, storytelling, wanking and tonight's favored diversion, arm-wrestling. Jack sat at the edge of the circle of onlookers, watching as Quartetto wiped up the proverbial decks with all comers. The big dark-haired gunner's mate appeared to have finally run out of challengers when Gibbs, bless him, gave Will a nudge.
"Why don' ye 'ave a go, Turner?"
The competitive spirit Jack loved flared to life in Will's eyes. The boy'd had a fair bit of rum tonight, more than usual -- Jack had solicitously made sure he never saw the bottom of his mug -- and apparently it wasn't a difficult choice. "All right," Will said, getting to his feet. Cheers and catcalls rang out as he pulled up a crate to face Quartetto over an upturned barrel and slapped down a coin.
Quartetto grinned. "Gonna lose yer money, boy."
"We'll see, won't we?" Will said good-naturedly.
As the two men locked hands, Jack edged closer till he stood near enough to Will to appreciate the clenched, straining muscles of his arm, the way his trousers stretched tight as he braced his legs, his frown of concentration. So wrapped up was Jack in the pleasant view that he paid little attention to the actual contest, until finally a great shout went up as Will forced the other man's hand down. Will grinned, receiving a few slaps on the back, and shook Quartetto's hand as he got up. Jack didn't waste a moment sliding into the vacated seat.
"You're challenging me?" Will asked with a hint of smugness.
"And why not? I can assure you, Mr. Turner, that I am more than capable of besting you here or on any other field of combat you'd care to name."
"This field of combat will do." Will gave him a slow smile and Jack felt suddenly lightheaded as all the blood in his body rushed south. "No cheating, right?" Will asked straight-faced.
"Absolutely not," Jack answered in his most serious tones. Then Will's hand wrapped around his, work-roughened, distractingly warm, and Jack forced himself to focus. It wouldn't do to let the lad beat him, especially with most of the crew gathered round and, besides, Jack intended to keep the upper hand tonight. So to speak.
It was a less complicated battle than a swordfight and Jack figured he and Will were fairly evenly matched. Jack wasn't losing but neither was he winning, and Will seemed faintly amused by the whole thing for reasons Jack couldn't quite fathom. It appeared to be time to try a new tactic. Without taking his eyes from Will's -- and staring into Will's wide brown eyes while holding his hand was enjoyable enough if not terribly satisfying -- Jack stretched out his leg alongside the barrel and contacted Will's bare foot with his own. Will startled, but it wasn't until Jack began stroking his leg, progressing steadily upward, that his concentration crumbled. Jack pinned his hand to the barrel with a triumphant grin, barely even hearing the mingled cheers and boos from their audience.
Will tried to glare but wasn't quite able to suppress a rueful laugh. "No cheating, huh?"
"Will me lad," Jack realized he was still holding Will's hand and regretfully released it. "I've told you before, never trust a pirate."
"In a fair fight I'd have beaten you," Will said without rancor, starting to rise.
"How's about the best two out of three, then?" Jack asked, determined not to let Will slip from his clutches. "Or," he paused dramatically, struck by a sudden clear vision of a promising strategy, "perhaps a rematch on a different field of combat."
Will gave him a wary look. "What do you have in mind?"
"The ancient and esteemed manly art of hand to hand combat." Jack rose and flung his arms wide in invitation.
"Hand to hand combat." Will arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Wrestling?"
"An honorable test of strength, determination, and skill." Jack favored Will with his most open and ingenuous smile.
Will wavered, glancing to the side where some of the others stood watching and listening and egging him on. Pleaseohpleaseohplease, Jack thought, just let me get my hands on you and I swear you won't regret it.
"So... any rules?" Will finally asked.
"Pirate!" Jack reminded him.
At Will's nodded agreement Jack grinned and the onlookers began backing away to give them room. Jack immediately went on the offensive, circling Will, and Will moved in tandem to keep his eyes on Jack at all times. Jack's first lunge at Will was a test of sorts and Will easily dodged him, then Will feinted and made a grab for Jack that the pirate avoided just as easily.
Jack was not a patient man, but he was determined. He wanted Will writhing on the sand underneath him, preferably without an audience, and Jack always got what he wanted -- sooner or later. He went into a slight crouch to lower his center of gravity, his hands loose and ready at his sides, and this time when he launched himself at Will he managed to get a firm grip on the boy's upper arms. Will struggled to break Jack's hold, managed to wrest one arm free, and while Jack was distracted Will hooked a foot behind his knee and threw him off balance. Jack didn't go down but he stumbled and let go, and Will darted out of his reach.
Once again Jack found himself neither winning nor losing and that was just not acceptable. His next attack carried more force and he managed to wrap his arms around Will's torso, but it was like trying to restrain a wildcat as Will twisted, tearing at Jack's hands where they gripped him, digging in his heels to try to throw Jack off. A well-aimed elbow to Jack's ribs caught him by surprise -- since when did Will start playing dirty? -- and Will freed himself.
They resumed circling each other with caution. Though Will's face was flushed, he was smiling. He wiped at his sweaty brow and asked, "Is there a bottle handy?" and in the next instant, before Jack could answer or look around, Will tackled him, bringing them both crashing to the ground. Oldest trick in the book, Jack chastised himself, throwing Will off and barely managing to avoid being pinned down. They scuffled in the sand, all grasping hands and straining muscles as each tried to gain control.
Finally Will scrambled to his feet and put some distance between them, and Jack went after him like a bloodhound on a scent, keeping the boy moving, keeping him off balance. The brief full-body contact had inflamed Jack and he was ready to end this charade, hopefully to move on to something more gratifying. He continued to advance on Will, trying to maneuver him toward the water, looking for an advantage. When Will backed into the surf his eyes widened in surprise and he changed direction, but Jack closed in on him, advancing more aggressively.
"Ready to concede, boy?" Jack taunted.
"Never." Will tried to dart around him but Jack managed to grab his arm. Will wrenched himself free and pushed hard against Jack's chest, causing him to stumble backward a step. "Bloody pirate!" he said, laughing.
Jack grinned dangerously. "Damn right, an' you'd do well not t' forget it," he replied, giving Will a shove that nearly took him off his feet.
Will attempted to return the gesture, but Jack was ready and used the boy's momentum against him, dodging his force and spilling them both to the ground in a tangled heap near the water's edge. Will twisted away but Jack caught him around the waist and they rolled over and over on the damp sand like two lion cubs. Jack caught a glimpse of Will's face, flushed and grinning, in the instant before Jack pinned him, face down, one arm caught behind his back in Jack's firm grip.
Jack had just opened his mouth to gloat, leaning over the boy's shoulder, when Will's free hand came up and threw a handful of sand directly into Jack's face. As Jack spluttered in indignation and released him to wipe at his eyes, Will scrambled to his feet and sprinted away down the beach.
Jack growled and leapt after him, his heart racing with excitement and lust and a certain amount of pride. Will Turner was growing up and apparently he'd been paying attention -- the boy could cheat with the best of them. However, that did not mean Jack was going to let him win.
It took only seconds for Jack to close the distance between them, and before the boy could intuit his intent Jack threw himself at Will in a full-body tackle. They landed hard, knocking the wind out of both of them, most of Jack's weight sprawled across Will's sturdy frame. In an instant Jack captured Will's wrists and pinned them to the ground above his head.
Will struggled forcefully, tugging at the hands restraining him, squirming under the weight that held him down. He was almost able to throw Jack off, but not quite, and Jack smirked down at him, thoroughly pleased with himself. Jack could feel Will's considerable strength and knew that their little battle could easily have ended with Jack on the bottom. The thought sent an unexpected thrill rippling down his spine and he felt himself growing hard in response. Will was warm and solid beneath him, breathing fast, the length of their bodies pressed snugly together. Jack watched, fascinated, as Will's expression transformed from frustration to acquiescence to awareness. Will shifted under him carefully, eyes guarded, and Jack attempted to hide his utter surprise upon realizing Will was just as hard as he was, and just as uncertain what to do about it.
Jack was fumbling for reassuring words that wouldn't require his immediate unconditional retreat when suddenly, unexpectedly, Will arched a brow and said, "Looks like you win after all."
"Aye," Jack replied cautiously. "But what's the prize, eh?"
Will drew a deep shaky breath as if steeling himself, then arched up and brushed his lips tentatively against Jack's.
Jack couldn't have been more shocked if he'd been struck by lightning. He couldn't have been more flabbergasted if every dirty fantasy he'd ever had about Will came to life before his eyes. And he couldn't wait another second. With a distinct lack of finesse he captured Will's mouth with his own, crushing their lips together hard, plunging his tongue into that welcoming, unresisting warmth. Will yielded to him freely, less sure of himself than Jack but eager, his tongue meeting and stroking Jack's until they were both gasping.
When they parted for air Jack shifted his weight onto his elbows and released Will's wrists, but immediately Will exclaimed, "Don't let go!" his wide eyes locked onto Jack's.
"I could really use me hands right about now, luv," Jack began before being silenced by a kiss full of teeth. With a mental shrug the pirate curled his fingers tightly around Will's sinewy forearms once more, holding him down as requested, and Will arched his back, straining against Jack's hold even while seeking closer contact. Jack parted the boy's lean thighs with his knee and settled himself firmly between his legs, and Will moaned, a raw sound that caused Jack's cock to throb in response. Jack rocked against him, feeling the boy's heat through the thin layers of fabric separating them, and roughly claimed his mouth again. He swallowed Will's whimpers and gasps hungrily, a little needy sound escaping him when Will lifted his legs and locked them around Jack's waist.
Good lord. Did the boy know what he was asking for? Jack would have killed for the privilege of giving it to him, but he had nothing to ease the way and he suspected Will might not actually be ready for that just yet. Jack wasn't so sure he could last long enough anyhow; he was shamefully close to spilling himself like an inexperienced boy simply from the thrill of rubbing up against Will fully clothed.
"One hand?" Jack wheedled with a touch of desperation, giving Will his most charming smile. "I'll make it worth your while, luv."
Will nodded once, apparently too far gone to argue, and Jack chided himself for not negotiating more skillfully. Will obligingly brought his wrists together so Jack could hold them both left-handed while his right hand snaked downward between their bodies. He knew there was a time and a place for subtlety, but he also knew this definitely wasn't it. He made short work of Will's trouser buttons, reached in and wrapped his hand around hot, hard, substantial flesh. Will whimpered and bucked against him and Jack stroked him slowly, forcing himself to focus only on giving Will pleasure. Gods, the boy was beautiful like this, gazing up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, face flushed, sweat beading on his upper lip. Jack leaned down to kiss him again, soft and slow.
"Want to feel you," Will murmured against Jack's lips. "Please."
Jack surmised Will wouldn't mind if he used both hands to tug Will's shirt off -- an accurate assessment, as it turned out -- or to ease his trousers down off his hips. Jack was out of his own garments and stretched out along Will's body again in record time, chests, bellies, hips, cocks perfectly aligned, too much warm skin for Jack to pay attention to properly. He could feel a cool wet spot below his navel where Will's cock was seeping clear fluid, could feel Will's chest rising and falling with his rapid breath. His own heart was fluttering like a wild thing and he knew neither of them was likely to last much longer.
Jack balanced on one elbow to reach down between them again, wrapping his fingers as best he could around Will's straining hardness and his own too. It took only a few quick strokes before Will was arching up, crying out, spurting hard over Jack's fingers, and of course that was enough to spill Jack too, momentarily blinding him to everything but the surging waves of pleasure and the vague awareness that Will was clinging to him like a barnacle. It seemed an eternity before Jack was able to lift his head from Will's shoulder and roll off him.
"Jack?" Will breathed, reaching out quickly as if he feared Jack would vanish into the night.
"'M not goin' anywhere," Jack murmured, dazed but euphoric. "You all right?"
"Better than all right." Will turned onto his side, flung a possessive arm across Jack's chest, and nuzzled Jack's ear. "I've wanted to do that for a long time."
Add that to the list of things Jack never thought he'd hear Will say. "Wish I'd known, luv. Wouldn't've waited so long."
Jack settled his arms snugly around Will and pulled him close, feeling their heartbeats gradually slowing, listening to Will's breath become soft and even. He wondered idly how much of a show they'd put on for the others, and where his trousers had gotten to, but damned if he could be bothered to care very much about either, right at that moment.
* * *
Usually Jack found that bright morning sunlight disagreed with him, his degree of discomfort directly proportional to the amount of rum still sloshing through his system from the night before. This particular morning, though, the sun's warmth felt good against his closed lids and he stretched luxuriantly, reveling in immediate, vivid memories of Will gasping beneath him. Not surprisingly he found himself growing hard and he patted the sand around him hopefully, but Will was nowhere to be found. He opened his eyes with a sigh, squinting at the immediate glare.
Jack lay a hundred yards or more down the beach from camp, and no one was paying him the slightest attention. Will was crouched near a small fire, wearing only his trousers, and various others lounged nearby or puttered about various tasks. It wasn't unusual for Jack to be the last one to wake, but this time he hadn't expected to awaken alone. He hurriedly donned his trousers and headed back toward camp.
The sand seemed a bit unstable to him, just as usual. Nods and soft greetings from the crew, just as usual, along with a smirk from Anamaria -- as usual. Will hadn't turned from the fire where he appeared to be making tea. Jack peered at him warily, suddenly unsure of his welcome. Bloody hell -- the lad's wrists were splotched with dark bruises, clearly in the shape of fingertips, and a crimson-purple lovebite marked the side of his throat. Jack almost swore aloud, concerned that he'd inadvertently been too rough. Then an equally alarming thought occurred to him and he glanced around furtively. Surely no one thought Jack had forced him into anything?
Will straightened and turned, almost bumping into Jack who was by now leaning over his shoulder. He gave Jack a sly look, dark eyes sparkling, and a softly spoken, "Good morning." Then Will leaned close and kissed him, full on the mouth in front of God and everybody, pushed a tin mug of tea into Jack's hands, and sauntered off toward the water. Jack watched, open-mouthed, as Will unselfconsciously shed his trousers and waded out into the surf. Caught speechless for once, Jack noted the amused glances of his crew before hastily setting down the mug and hurrying after Will.
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