Title: Pleasurable Company
Author: Sparrowhawk (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Summary: If you walked in on Jack and Will together, wouldn't you stay to watch? Anamaria would, too.
Warnings: PWP. No redeeming literary value.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.
Raucous laughter spills from the taverns of Nassau into the mild Caribbean night where pirates and sailors mill and scuffle in the dusty streets. Anamaria paces through the darkness, alone but unafraid. The cutlass at her side and the pistol in her belt mark her as one to be approached with caution, and that suits her just fine.
It's the Black Pearl's first night in port in more than a month and the crew has scattered. Tonight Anamaria craves a bit of pleasurable company and her eyes narrow as she considers her options, which are sadly limited. No way will she let any of this seagoing trash lay a hand on her, she thinks as she surveys the crowd of drunken, scruffy-looking men. The whores are little better, and although most will take a woman to bed if she has the coin to pay, few of them are practiced at pleasing a woman. Tonight Anamaria longs for a partner with enthusiasm and skill, someone who excites her -- most unlikely. She sighs.
An hour later she rows back out to the Pearl, alone and resigned to keeping her own company once again. She boards without a sound, a slender shadow against the ship's blue-black decks, and heads below. Thinking all the crew has gone ashore, she is surprised to see the mellow golden glow of lantern light in the galley and moves closer to investigate. She is even more surprised to nudge the door open slightly and find her captain and his young lover sprawled across the battered trestle table, naked and sweaty and completely oblivious to everything around them. Her first instinct is to back away stealthily before they notice her, but then she pauses. She is a pirate, after all, and not averse to free entertainment of this sort, especially tonight.
She crouches just out of sight by the cracked door, more than a little intrigued. It's not as if she were terribly attracted to either of these two -- although Will is quite handsome and a gentleman besides and Jack is, well, Jack. But the sight of them together is irresistible, hotter than a white sand beach at midday. Perhaps this evening won't be a total loss after all, she thinks.
She has seen Jack shirtless on innumerable occasions, but never fully undressed and certainly never having it off with one of his crew. She has to admit that he lives up to his reputation; the man looks and moves like pure animal sex. He is lying atop Will, his sleek, sun-burnished body a marked contrast to the boy's. Jack is all lean muscle and sharp angles and coiled tension, a wild thing as dangerous as he is beautiful. His tangled black mane tumbles down around his face as he nips at Will's neck.
From her vantage point Anamaria has a clear view and she studies Jack with interest: the tattoo on his left shoulder, a skillful rendering of the Black Pearl... the telltale marks of an old flogging across his upper back, faded to thin, shiny stripes... another tattoo at the small of his back, a pair of dragons entwined... and the taut curve of his buttocks, appealing as any lover she has ever known, male or female. Her gaze lingers there a moment longer before she swallows hard and turns her attention to Will.
The boy's arms, twined tightly around Jack, betray his former occupation. Blacksmithing gave him sinewy, well-defined muscles and broad shoulders, as well as a scattering of small burn scars along his forearms. His smooth skin has taken on the sun's golden glow; his chestnut hair streaked with copper frames a face that would be too pretty if not for the serious brow and the determined line of his jaw. Will's narrow, sharp-boned hips are pinned beneath Jack's and he is writhing slowly, his long, slender legs spilling off the edge of the table. Jack moves with him, the strong muscles of his thighs and backside flexing as he grinds his body into the boy's.
Will is completely at Jack's mercy, Anamaria notes with a smirk. His head is thrown back in abandon, giving the pirate easy access to the supple curve of his throat; his eyes are squeezed closed and his lips parted on ragged breaths. Each time Jack nips at the tender flesh Will moans again, a low, primitive sound that makes Anamaria want to moan in response. Jack works his way down Will's neck, leaving a trail of bold crimson bruises. She knows Jack is making sure that everyone will know the boy belongs to him.
Jack works a hand between their chests to tweak a nipple, or so she assumes from the way Will yelps, but Jack silences him with a greedy, openmouthed kiss. The boy's strong hands come up to grip Jack's backside and Jack plunders his mouth in time to the rhythm of their rocking hips. Anamaria licks her lips and, finding herself a little shaky, settles down onto her knees. When Jack breaks away Will whimpers, and that of course draws a sly chuckle from Jack before he begins licking a path along Will's angular collarbone and down the center of his chest. He nuzzles a dark nipple, blows on it, runs a teasing finger around it, and looks up, expectant.
"You want me to beg, don't you?" Will's voice is tight with need, frustrated yet fond.
"Music to me ears, luv." Jack smiles wolfishly but relents and sucks the hardened nub into his mouth, then tugs at it sharply with his teeth; Will gives a little hiss and rises up onto his elbows to watch. Jack looks up with mischief and pure lust in his dark eyes and soothes the sensitive flesh with his tongue before moving onto its mate. His hand trails downward to stroke Will's stomach, causing the muscles to tighten under his touch, fingers dancing across the unmarked flesh like a pickpocket in search of a rich prize. He follows a trail of silky dark hair down to the nest of thick curls and combs his fingers through them, in no hurry to claim the treasure that awaits. Will shifts restlessly and mutters, "For god's sake, Jack..." The boy's cock is fully hard, jutting at an eager angle, and although Anamaria has seen far more of Will Turner than she'd ever intended, she can't help but be impressed. No wonder Jack seems so smitten with him.
Jack slithers down Will's body, kissing and licking as he goes. He pauses to plunge his tongue into Will's navel, in and out and in again, quick and wet, causing Will to make a peculiar sound somewhere between a giggle and a whimper. Jack is kneeling on one of the wooden benches now, kneeling between Will's tensed thighs. Anamaria catches herself straining for a better glimpse of the captain's privates and laughs at herself, since she's never given a serious thought to Jack's anatomy until tonight. But Will's wiry legs and the angle steal the view from her and she returns her attention to Jack's tongue snaking out to tease the crease between Will's hip and thigh. Jack chafes the pale, soft flesh with his beard then lowers his mouth to suck there, hard. The boy's proud cock twitches and Will moans in raw frustration. A moment later Jack pulls back to admire the purple-red lovebite he's left, then does the same on the other thigh. Those marks, Anamaria understands, are so the boy remembers he belongs to Jack.
"Would you just *get on with it*--" Will grits out and reaches down to tug at Jack, but Jack just grins, his splayed fingers lazily running up and down Will's lean thighs.
"Dear William, so impatient." Jack leans closer and blows lightly over Will's swollen flesh, causing Will to squirm and thump his head back against the table. A moment later Jack is nuzzling the boy's plump balls, cupping their solid weight in his hand, rolling the globes around. When Jack gently sucks one of the balls into his mouth, Will groans. Loudly. And Jack continues to lavish attention there with hands and lips and tongue until Anamaria expects the boy to explode at any moment; he's so wound up he's practically trembling and Jack is obviously loving every quiver, every moan. It's just like Jack Sparrow, she thinks, to be as maddening in bed as he is out of it.
"Goddamn it, Jack!" Will is beginning to sound more than frustrated as he props himself on his elbows to glare at his lover. Sweat has gathered at the center of his chest and a shimmering drop courses down to his belly.
"What's th' matter, luv?" Anamaria knows that innocent tone all too well and apparently so does Will.
"You know fucking well what's the matter, you bloody tease!"
"Now, now, there's no call to be abusive," Jack chides, giving Will a coy look. "What is it you want, exactly?"
"Your mouth. On my cock. Now." Will's growl, though low and controlled, holds a note of unmistakable threat and his fingers clench tight in Jack's hair. Anamaria smiles wickedly as Jack winces a little; he may have finally met his match with this one.
"Well then, why didn't you say so?" Jack leans over Will on his elbows and licks a path up the organ under discussion, root to tip. Will heaves a sigh of relief and relaxes back against the table, but Jack isn't done teasing -- no surprise, that. He flicks out his tongue to taste the clear drops oozing from the swollen head and ghosts a breath over the heated skin. Will moans and swears heartily like a proper sailor; he's been paying attention, Anamaria notes with approval.
Jack darts a look up at Will's face -- forehead and upper lip beaded with sweat, dark eyelashes lowered, even white teeth biting firmly into his lower lip -- then he smiles. Slowly, deliberately he wraps his lips around the boy's cock, drawing a sound from Will that is closer to a howl than a moan. Jack lets his eyes drift shut and he takes his time about working his way down the shaft and back up again, letting it slide glistening almost out of his mouth before taking it in again, deeper each time, clearly enjoying himself. Anamaria considers which man she feels more envious of and comes to the conclusion she would trade places with either of them, in a heartbeat.
With a sharp thrust of his hips and another tug at Jack's hair, Will urges him on, and apparently Jack can take a hint because he sets to with a relish that would make a Tortuga whore envious. His eyes are squeezed shut in concentration as he fucks the shaft vigorously with his mouth, a hint of a smile lingering at the corners of his eyes. One hand comes up to cradle Will's balls while the other wraps around the shaft and pumps. Will's moans are nearly continuous and he thrashes about until Jack's hands settle on his hips to hold him down.
Not long now, Anamaria thinks, and sure enough, Jack begins humming that ridiculous pirate song with the boy's cock buried deep in his throat and Will arches up with a strangled shout. He comes hard, his face contorted with pleasure so intense it looks like pain. Jack stays right with him until the spasms subside and Will lies back, drained and panting. She's heard that Jack Sparrow gives first-rate head, and though she can't speak from personal experience, Will certainly looks as if he'd agree. If he were able to speak.
The narrow passageway outside the galley must be growing warmer, Anamaria thinks distractedly as she loosens the laces of her shirt and plucks the thin cotton away from damp skin. Jack crawls up Will's body and settles over him again, covering his face with kisses until the boy opens his eyes. Will gathers the pirate's mane of hair, braids, beads and whatnot and pulls it all back, lifting it off Jack's sweat-dampened neck. The expression that crosses Jack's face is like none Anamaria has ever seen on him. Gone are his trademark smirk and brash attitude. Suddenly he looks vulnerable, younger and utterly happy. And though she's happy for him, for them, the smile they share makes her feel even more alone.
"Mmm, Jack, I want you," Will purrs.
"Better slow down then, eh?" Jack murmurs as he attempts to pull away. He settles his weight on his elbows, leaning over the boy for a moment longer to catch his breath, then he presses a kiss to Will's forehead. "Be right back."
Before Anamaria can react Jack has rolled off Will and is padding across the room, toward her vantage point behind the partly open door. She finally gets a good look at the front of him; he is every bit as well-endowed as Will, his swollen cock bobbing almost at her eye level, and she's amazed to see that a thick gold ring pierces the head. She stares a moment too long and looks up to find Jack has paused a few feet away, those sharp black eyes locked onto hers, and he is smirking, eyebrows lifted inquiringly. Her mouth drops open and she's torn between freezing in place and fleeing in panic, but in the next instant Jack winks brazenly at her and proceeds over to the long wall of cupboards.
When she resumes breathing, her heart thumping furiously, she figures she knows what a mouse must feel like when cornered by a cat -- luckily for her, one with other prey on his mind. She darts a fleeting look toward Will to find that he still lies on his back, eyes closed; she's relieved that he missed their silent exchange. She can hear Jack rummaging around noisily, out of her sight, then a moment later he passes again carrying a small amber glass bottle. He doesn't so much as glance in her direction and she reckons that counts as permission to stay.
When Jack returns Will sits up and loops his arms about Jack's neck, seeking out his lips again. Jack sets down the bottle and strokes up and down the expanse of Will's back as they kiss languidly. Will's strong legs wrap around Jack, drawing him closer, and Anamaria can see Jack smiling against Will's lips. Jack pulls away just far enough to murmur, "What d'ye want, luv? Tell me."
"Fuck me, Jack. Right here, right now." It's a demand, not a request.
Jack grins. "Aye, I was hopin' you'd say that."
Will rolls his eyes in mock exasperation but presses the little bottle into Jack's hands, lying back on the table again with an impatient wriggle. He looks surprised when Jack tugs at his arm.
"Not like that; th' table'll tear up your back. Don' want to hurt you."
Jack gives him a hand and pulls him to his feet. Will is a scant inch taller than Jack, Anamaria notices, longer in the legs and broader in the shoulders. When Jack turns him around and slaps his behind playfully, pushing him down to lean over the table, Anamaria stealthily pushes the door open a bit farther. She half expects Jack to slick himself up and dive right in, but instead he drapes himself over Will's back, hips pressed flush against Will's backside, and begins lavishing kisses across the boy's neck and shoulders, stroking gently up and down his braced arms. Will's eyes flutter closed, a little smile curving his lips, and he rocks his hips against Jack in a slow, seductive rhythm.
Now it's Jack's turn to be teased within an inch of his life, Anamaria notes with evil glee as the pirate's eyes threaten to roll back in his head, and he bears it for longer than she would have expected before he abruptly pulls away, stifling a whimper and grabbing for the oil. Will's low chuckle is cut off when Jack tips the bottle and lets a thin stream of oil trickle down between Will's cheeks. Jack's finger follows and Will arches into his touch, and Anamaria can't tear her eyes away. She squirms and wipes absently at the sweat droplets gathering on her upper lip. Aye, the hallway is much warmer now and her skin prickles all over. She cranes her neck for a better view, because although she knows quite well what Jack's hand is busy with, she really wishes she could see more of it.
Will lowers his forehead onto his crossed arms and pushes backward forcefully and that familiar sly grin steals across Jack's face. When he slides his fingers free Will immediately protests and Jack murmurs something soothing. Anamaria doesn't quite catch the words, though, as Jack is hastily slathering oil over his cock while he speaks and that gold ring has her undivided attention. She wonders what it would feel like under her tongue, warm with body heat, half-buried in silky flesh wonders if she would be able to feel it inside her wonders how it feels for Will Good lord. She can no longer tell herself that the temperature accounts for her flustered state.
She watches, transfixed, as Jack takes the boy by the hips and eases into him gradually, carefully. Will's eyes are squeezed shut now, his teeth buried in his lower lip once more, his face flushed and sweat beading on his brow. More than anything Anamaria wants to feel like Will is feeling and, lacking that, loosens her trousers and slips her hand inside -- a poor substitute. Her fingers, slick with her juices, slide easily and she rubs herself in time to the steady rhythm Jack is setting.
Jack's head is thrown back, eyes half-closed, the graceful curve of his throat and the long arc of his back glistening with sweat. He is murmuring soft endearments that make Anamaria almost ashamed of herself for intruding on something so private almost. Will is gasping encouragement, urging Jack on, and as their pace quickens so does hers. Jack slams his hips into Will's backside with a slap of flesh on flesh and her fingers fly to keep up, her breath coming near as quick as theirs. Then Jack's whip-slender body snaps like a sail in a stiff breeze and he gives one last deep thrust, crying out wordlessly until finally he falls forward across Will's heaving back.
It's Jack's cry, raw and primal and exultant, that tips Anamaria over the edge and she bites her lip, hard, to keep from crying out herself. When she calms, she wipes her hand on the hem of her shirt and refastens her trousers, feeling a little dazed. Jack and Will stand locked together still panting, their combined weight supported by Will's well-muscled arms, Jack's forehead pressed between Will's shoulder blades. It occurs to Anamaria that this would be an opportune time to make a clean getaway, but as she rises unsteadily to her knees Jack's dark head comes up, those wicked, glittering eyes meet hers, and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself.
She shoots him a deadly glare and, gathering what dignity she can, stalks away down the passage. Their intimate voices and soft laughter drift from the galley behind her and she imagines them sharing lazy, sated kisses. She curses both of them thoroughly, and herself as well, as she hurriedly rows back to shore. If she doesn't find herself some pleasurable company this time, it's going to be a bloody long night.
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