Title: That Way
Author: kHo (email@example.com)
Summary: Jack, Will and a door. Smut pure and simple. Whats it called? PWP?
My back pressed into the doorframe, one hand on the door handle, the other mashed between our bodies. I kept telling myself one good shove... one good shove, a turn of the door handle, and that's all it would take. He was breathing hard, and so was I, and even as I told myself to move, I just couldn't. It felt too good.
I should have known. I thought I had. I thought that after a year of sailing with him, under his command, I'd figured him out. I should have remembered that when he was teasing it was never completely in jest. There was an ulterior motive to just about everything he did. In every look, every wink, every laugh, the wheels were turning behind those crazy eyes of his, and I thought I'd learned to read him.
I had an excuse, albeit a flimsy one. I was drunk. I'd never been a drinking man, not like him anyway, and even though I'd built up a tolerance over the past year I still got drunk off the rum he offered me. Him though, he never got drunk. I can remember half a dozen times when I'd thought he'd been drunk only to be shown time and time again that he had more wits about him after two pints of rum than I did on any given day.
Sometimes I wonder why I'm even on this ship. I do my share, but not because I'm told to. I know my strengths, and I apply them wherever I am, if for no other reason than to earn the respect of the rest of his crew. Jack never told me what to do unless it was expressly needed. He never ordered me around like he did Anamaria and Cotton. Then again, he didn't order Gibbs around either, and I thought maybe it was because he knew he didn't have to give orders for Gibbs and I to do what was needed.
I'm starting to question that now though, as his hand runs down my body slowly and I'm helpless to stop him. I'm not even sure I want him to stop anymore. I was only slightly drunk, just enough to feel slightly lightheaded, but I knew I had enough strength to get him off of me if I needed to. He tastes good though, and the braided goatee doesn't feel all that bad, and his hand feels good as it travels up my side, just underneath my shirt.
We had, as usual, been playing card games on deck with the crew when Jack had told me he had something for me in his room. I didn't think to question it because he had been known to pick up certain trinkets that some of us may like. He got Anamaria a conk shell necklace once in Tortuga. She'd frowned at him when he presented it to her, but smiled once his back was turned.
We'd entered his room and he'd taken off his hat, setting it on the desk of drawers, a hand reaching up to run over his flattened hair and ruffling through it. I'd shut the door behind us out of habit, and he'd turned to look at me. There was a look in his eyes I hadn't really seen before, at least not directed at me, and it threw me off guard.
There had always been something about Jack that nearly radiated sex. Something in his swagger, in the way he moved his hands, that made even me think about sex. Not necessarily sex with him, but the act of sex period. He'd flirted with me on more than one occasion, but I'd credited that more to his fluid sexuality than anything personal. I should have known.
"Ready for show an' tell, love," he asked, slowly making his way over to where I still stood by the door.
I opened my mouth to say yes and all I did was laugh. Something about the look in his eyes was making it very hard for me to breathe regularly and it was putting me on more than just a little bit of an edge. Instead I shrugged, and tried to stop the nervous giggles I felt creeping up my spine.
"Not really show an' tell, actually," he said, finally standing before me and reaching out a hand to run lightly over my sleeve, his eyes following his hand before looking briefly up at me and smiling. "Pro'ly shouldn't tell at all."
"Tell what," I managed to get out, clearing my throat and trying to look unaffected by his proximity. Jack always had stood too close, and I couldn't figure out why this time felt so different to me.
"Patience, darling," he whispered, flashing that trademark grin at me that usually put me at rest. It did not this time. My heartbeat kicked up a few notches and my hand seemed to move all by itself as it settled lightly on the door handle. "Not really see either," he continued, picking at a crease in my shirtsleeve, frowning at it for a moment. "Not with your eyes, anyway."
"Jack, what are..."
"Easy, love," Jack said, smiling at me again. "Breathe for a moment."
I took a deep breath, my whole body vibrating with tension. "What are you going on about," I asked once I'd managed to make sure it wouldn't waver.
"Will," he said, reaching up and brushing back the piece of hair that always seemed to find its way into my face. "You're attracted to me, aren't you?" Honestly, I stopped breathing right about then. I tried to laugh, I tried to deny it, but I couldn't work any sounds past the crushing in my chest cavity. He smiled, nodding as he thread his fingers lightly through my hair. "I know."
"Shhh," he said quietly, bending quickly and placing his lips against mine briefly. He winked at me as he pulled away. "Not finished yet."
My tongue darted out to lick at my lips, tasting stale smoke and salt and sea air. I felt light headed, and my fingers tightened on the door handle slightly. "I don't understand..."
"I'm attracted to you too, Will," he said softly, running his hand down my chest and not meeting my eyes. "First I thought it was Bootstrap I was still in love with..."
My mouth fell open at that, a rush of air sucking out of my chest. "You and..."
He shook his head, smiling ruefully. "One sided, love," he said. "Your father was my friend, my dearest friend... and that's where it ended for him."
Jack shook his head, the beads in his hair jangling lightly. "But I was wrong, Will, cause it's not Bootstrap that I think about these last few months as I fall asleep." I try to interject again but he holds up a finger to my lips, smiling at me. "An' you're attracted to me, I can tell. Always could tell. S'why Bootstrap never knew how I felt about him... knew he'd never think of me that way."
"I don't..." I paused, swallowing thickly before continuing. "I don't think of you... that way... either, Jack..."
He smiled at me, raising an eyebrow. "If that were true, love, you'd be gone by now."
"Shhh," Jack said, his hand winding in my shirt and pulling me forward slightly, his lips hovering centimeters beyond mine. "I'm going to kiss you now, Will," he said quietly. "And if you don't like it, we stop there and that's it... but if you do, well... we'll take it from there, savvy?"
I found myself nodding despite the fact that my gut screamed no at me. His mouth hovered over mine for a moment longer, his eyes flicking up to look deeply into mine. Finally his mouth closed over mine and my hand raised between our bodies to push him away. His tongue delved cautiously into my mouth when I didn't, and what had been the intention to push him away became a fist around his shirt pulling him closer to me.
He purrs when he kisses, which is something I'd never really known. Little, tiny purrs vibrate through his chest and into my mouth and throughout my body, making me ache to feel him closer. Finally my hand leaves the door handle behind me and as soon as it touches his hair the kiss deepens to a point of frenzy as he shoves me into the door with sudden intensity.
He starts tearing at my shirt and I'm tearing at his, and his tongue is all over every exposed inch of skin almost as soon as it's exposed. His hands work on my trousers as I grab his face in my hands and kiss him again. He laughs lightly into my mouth and lets my loosened trousers fall to the floor, his hands raising to turn me towards the bed, falling on top of me as we get there.
There's no time, or want really, to stop and think about what we're doing. His hands are everywhere they need to be, and mine seem to be following suit, and soon there's nothing to be heard in the room but breaths and moans and hushed curses of names. He cries out and buries his tongue in my mouth at the crescendo of both of our climaxes, driving home that it's him that's making me feel this way.
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