jackxwill - pirates of the caribbean slash

Title: Under Pink Blossoms (part 3 of the Katana series)
Author: Blue Buick R (blue_buick_r@hotmail.com)
Pairing: J/W
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jack realizes he may have to give up more than his right arm.
Notes: This is the third story in a short fic series of mine. You should read the first two, “All Other Loves” and “True Match” or this will make no sense. Thanks go out to my beta Antoinette. Feedback is greatly appreciated and avidly consumed.



It really was a breathtaking display. All that lean muscle bunching and twisting, pink blossomed bough moving in synchronization as if swaying in a breeze, bare feet slapping on the wood of the deck at timed intervals, the soles obviously worn and toughened enough as to ward off any splinters. But what really grabbed Jack’s attention, grabbed it and held it, were the two whistling blades held confidently between large hardened hands. They moved effortlessly through the air, cutting through it gracefully, crossing and lunging in perfect harmony. A contortion of the wrist, and roll of the elbow and shoulder, and the swords changed direction instantly, a maneuver as breathtaking and deadly as any Jack had performed with The Pearl. He was completely besotted.

He hadn’t been the only one. Dear William had been on board nary a week before one of Jack’s misbegotten crewmen had made a rather forceful proposition toward the young man. Jack had seen the looks Will had received, especially when he performed his daily routine out on deck under the soft glow of the early morning sun, he just never figured any of his men stupid enough to try anything. Particularly after said morning displays of skill and strength. It was amazing how much further humanity can sink in one’s eyes, despite the lowest of opinion. He hadn’t been present during the incident himself but his ears and later his eyes had acquainted him with the aftermath. He’d been hold up in his quarters with Gibbs at the time, pouring over maps and discussing possible routs when a gods awful scream had erupted from beneath their feet. It’d been muffled by the wood of the deck but it’d still been loud enough to send a chill down Jack’s spine.

Running out onto the main deck both Jack and Gibbs were in time to seen one of the crew stumble up from below, clutching his mangled right arm to his chest, his face white with shock, eyes wild. Demanding to know what the hell was going on he got his answer when Will and a few other men made their up way from below deck as well. Apparently Mr. Turner hadn’t taken Mr. Guthrin’s advances very well, especially when he’d expressly made his feelings on the matter quite clear. Mr. Guthrin hadn’t heeded said wishes and Will had promptly broken the man’s arm. Jack took a look at the offending appendage and though Will had done a little more than broken it, he’d nearly torn it off the man’s torso. In the end the break had been so bad that they’d had to amputate the arm anyway. Will was not sorry. Neither was Jack, and he refused to pay Mr. Guthrin the 600 pieces of eight usually given as compensation for the loss of a right arm. He hadn’t lost it on duty and therefore would have to do without the money as well as the arm.

From then on Will’s admirers had done their admiring from afar. Gibbs had later confided in Jack that the men were a little afraid of the lad now and chose to keep their distance out of deference to their own limbs. As it should be. Problem being that Jack himself counted himself among his admirers and found he too was slightly put off by the new and apparently improved William Turner. He would much rather be doing some touching to go along with the looking, but every time he though he’d gathered the courage to approach the man his right arm would tingle or give a little twinge as some sort of sadistic reminder of what that wonderful body could do to poor old Jack if he happened to offend. And lord knew Jack Sparrow had been known to offend a time or two.

His attention was pulled back to the here and now as Will finished up his exercises. The young man had crossed the two katana blades in front on him and was in the process of bowing to thin air. Jack always thought he looked ridiculous doing it, especially in those billowing trousers he insisted on wearing during his sword practice. Jack whole heartedly approved of the lack of shirt, but the first time he’d seen Will in those pants he’d burst out laughing and suggested if they ever needed new sails he’d know where to go. Will only glared at him and proceeded through such a furious and complex sequence of moves that Jack, fearing for his life, never spoke of the matter again.

Sauntering over to the other man as he retrieved the two scabbards he’d set to the side, he watched as Will slid both the sword given to him by Shichirobei, and Jack’s own borrowed blade, into their respective sheaths. Jack had asked him, after the first time he’d seen him do this, why he hadn’t nicked himself with the blades before putting them away. The boy had explained that daily practice didn’t count or else one would have a great mess on their hands...literally. Practical chaps these Japanese sword masters.

“Thanks again for letting me use this, Jack,” Will said as he handed over the blade. “I know how much you hate seeing anyone else touch the thing.” He grinned at the pirate.

“Ah, it’s a different matter with you, William. You crafted her with your own hands.”

Will’s grin widened. “How do you know it’s a her?”

Jack shrugged. “Just a feelin’ I guess.” He smiled back. “I’ve always been good at attracting the ladies.”

Will let out a quick laugh. “Or the ladies’ open palms at least.”

Jack only glared.

“But really, I understand. I’ve always felt Master Shichirobei’s sword seemed male to me.”

“Despite the flowers?” Jack smirked.

“Yes,” Will growled, “despite the flowers.”

Jack’s smirk turned slightly lecherous despite his best efforts, and his eyes raked over Will’s sprawling tattoo unbidden.

Will stiffened slightly, and his eyes took on a hard edge.

“Do I look anything but male to you Captain Sparrow?” he demanded.

Jack’s mouth went dry and he shook his head. “Oh no, Will. You’re as male as they come. I’ve no doubt about that.” He paused for a moment before a speculative look sparked in his eyes. “You have a very high esteem for that sword, don’t you Will?” he asked.

Will looked back at him puzzled for a moment before answer. “Yes, yes of course. I love it, I left my life in Port Royal for the idea of it. It is dear to me, and when it’s in my hand it moves with me as if it were a part of my own body gone astray long ago.”

The wistful note in the lad’s voice stirred something in Jack, the words not helping matters one little bit. He was going to have to make his move soon or he’d go mad, rent arms be damned.

“A poet as well as a sword smith,” he commented.

Will flushed slightly but did not snarl anything back as Jack expected. “I *have* written some poetry,” Will admitted. “Master Shichirobei said it was a good way to focus my creativity, that all manners of expression should be explored to help hone my skills.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Was it any good?”

“Horrible to the extreme,” Will laughed.

“What did you write about?”

Will hesitated a moment then seemed to make a decision. “Elizabeth, especially after she refused my letters, the sea, Master Schichirobei...you.”

“Me?” Jack was flabbergasted, but recovered quickly. “Was it one of those bawdy limericks?”

Will shook his head, then pasted on a smile. “Something like that,” he said as he moved past Jack towards the stairs which led below deck.

Jack followed him down silently, and over to the small corner of the ship where Will had set up a small living space for himself. He’d insisted on having his own space away from the rest of the crew where he could ‘be alone with my thoughts’. Having scavenged enough spare wood he’d managed to construct three screens he’d put together with some fine pilfered fabric, and erected them around a small cot.

Will moved one of the screens aside as he entered his ‘room’ and Jack sidled in behind him. This was the fist time he’d seen what Will had gathered behind the screens. There was the cot against the hull with a long trunk stuffed under it. A small table Jack didn’t recognize was placed at the head of the cot, with a small blue and white tea set upon it, as well as an incense burner. The space was peppered with some strategically placed candle sticks, and the rough planked floor was covered with a finely woven rug. Will had obviously been quite selective in his choices from the Pearl’s stash.

Will set his sword on a set of wooden braces which hung over his bed and turned to Jack, the sweat from his exertions on deck just started to cool and dry on his skin, leaving faint traces of white salt.

“Well,” Will said curtly as he pulled the leather thong from his bound hair letting the silky mass free. It was quite a bit longer now and Jack hardly ever saw Will let it down from its usual tight knot at the base of his skull. Looking at it now Jack was surprised to see it cascade down to the boy’s shoulders.

“Well what?” Jack asked, or croaked more likely.

“Are we doing this or not?” Will went on, as began to unwind the long sash from about his waist.

“Wh...what?” Jack was staring and he knew it, but there didn’t seem to be anything for it.

“Having at it!” Will exclaimed as if it was obvious. “Spicing up the rum! Doing the old heave ho!”

Jack continued to star at him blankly.

“Sex, Jack,” Will spelled it out for him. “Are we going to have sex or not?” And on the word ‘not’ he tossed the sash to the side and slid his pants down leaving him standing there in front of Jack in all his glory. The browns and pinks of the tattooed branch standing out starkly.

Jack dropped his beloved sword, not hearing it clatter to the floor, and not caring a wit.

A little frown appear between Will’s brows, and he cast a glance at the discarded katana. “That is what you came here for isn’t it?”

“Yes!” Jack blurted out. “I mean no! I mean...what?”

Will clucked at him, and pulled him further in the cornered off space, sliding the screen back into place behind him. “Jack, Jack. I’ve noticed you, you know.”

“You have?”

“Of course I have. I’ve noticed you noticing me.”

“You have”

“Ye-es,” Will sing songed as he gently began to divest his captain of his effects. “You’re everything but subtle Jack Sparrow, and the world knows it.”

Jack seemed to snap out of whatever trance seeing Will’s naked body had thrown him into and surprised the young man by suddenly grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him in close for a kiss. He’d wanted this, and he was going to have it by God!

It was messy and violent and fraught with teeth and tongue. Jack wanted to slow down and gentle it a bit, afraid he’d scare Will off, despite the flagrant and seemingly confident show the lad was putting on moments ago, but he didn’t have the willpower. Fortunately the new and improved William Turner was also carnal, wanton William Turner as well, and Jack soon found himself getting as good as he gave...maybe more so. Definitely more so, and after a shuddering and rather scary moment of Will attacking his mouth he had to pull away for breath and sanity.
He leaned back to looked at Will, still plastered against his body, and saw a fire in his eyes and blood on his lips. Despite being the only one in the room wearing clothes he felt quite vulnerable all of a sudden.

Will didn’t seem to catch on to his trepidation, however, as he jerked Jack around and practically tossed him onto the bed, his own naked and clearly aroused body following quickly on his heels. Jack’s own arousal wasn’t too far behind, especially with Will’s heavy, tightly muscled body spread out on top of him, rough hands pushing the scarf from his head. He leaned down and kissed Jack’s eyebrow as the hands moved from his head down his rib-cage and settled at his waist where they began to fuss with his pants.

“Will,” Jack panted, trying to get the other man’s attention. “William!”

“Mmmm?” Will breathed, leaning down to nuzzle Jack’s temple, finally getting the trousers loose enough to push them down the pirate’s hips, freeing his cock.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked, hearing his own voice rise in volume, and likely an octave or two, as he felt Will spread his thighs wide enough to settled the box of his hips between them. This aligned their straining erections and Jack couldn’t help but flush as moisture began to gather at the arching tip of his arousal.

“I thought we went over that already?” Will moaned slightly, as he rubbed lightly into Jack just to get a feel for it.

Jack let out a strangled little growl and pushed at Will’s body. He couldn’t *think* with the boy moving on top of him like that, and at the moment he desperately needed to think. Will froze and looked down at him, eyes slightly glazed but clearing by the second.

“What’s the matter?”

“I...” Jack licked his lips, composing himself. “I simply didn’t expect matters to progress this way.”

Will’s eyes narrowed and Jack’s cock surged even as his right arm began to tingle.

“Oh, how did you expect it to progress then?” Will asked. “That the rakish Captain Sparrow would seduce innocent young Will, tumbling him into bed and overwhelming him with his sexual prowess?”

Jack sighed. “Something like that.”

Grabbing Jack by both his wrists, Will yanked the pirate’s arms up over his head and pinned them to the cot. “Sorry to disappoint you, but Master Shichirobei thought me that an unfulfilled body can lead to a distracted and unfulfilled mind. I’ve had my share of partners Jack, both men and women, I’m not the blushing violet you’re looking for.”

“You say that a lot, you know!” Jack snarled. “‘Master Shichirobei said this’ or ‘Master Shichirobei said that!’ If you loved the man so damn much why did you leave in the first place?! You certainly blubbered enough on parting!”

Will’s grip on Jack’s wrists tightened and the pirate let out a pained hiss. “Tashiaki Shichirobei does not deserve your disrespect, Jack. He’s a great man, and taught me a lot about myself! And as to why I’m here? *Because* he is a great man he was right...I needed to get away, be on my own, spread my wings so to speak.” His countenance and grip softened and he smiled sweetly down at Jack. “And who better to teach me about freedom than the freest man I know?” He dipped his head slightly and brushed a delicate kiss across Jack’s lips. “Believe it or not I have great esteem for a certain pirate captain as well.”

Jack relaxed, and flexed his hands, signalling Will to release him. Bringing them up to card through the curtain of Will’s sun kissed hair, he tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Then he’s in hallowed company.”

Grabbing him by the shoulders Will yanked him up, keeping his upper body suspended over the cot with an iron grip on his upper arms. He shivered slightly. He was going to have bruises there. Finger shaped shadows. Proof Will’s hands had been on him.

“Now, I’ll give you some advice I found very useful over the years,” Will spoke, staring straight into his eyes. Jack expected more Shichirobei words of wisdom and almost died of shock when he heard familiar words spill out of Will’s mouth. “There are two things in this world: things you can do, and things you can’t do. So, you, Jack Sparrow are going to have to ask yourself one question: *can* you find pleasure under the body of one William Turner, or can you *not*?”

“Do your remember everything I said to you, William Turner?” Jack asked.

“Everything worth remembering.”

Will wasn’t really ready for the kiss and their teeth clashed, blood blooming between their mouths. His or Will’s he couldn’t tell. Pushing back slightly into Will’s naked body, the surface of his skin scalding Jack through his clothes, the heat from the long workout and interrupted passion having not yet dissipated, the younger man growled in an uncanny imitation of Jack’s earlier vocalizations. It seemed like the vibration sent Jack’s hard lips skittering away from the center of his mouth, to the corner for a moment, then across his jaw and down to his long throat.

Will hissed sharply when instead of a kiss, a sucking bite met his flesh. He brought his hands up from Jack’s shoulders to tangle them in his hair, messing it more as he clenched his fingers into fists. Jack wasn’t sure whether the boy wanted to pull him away or keep him there.

He twisted his head away from Jack’s mouth, settling him back down on the bed, and swooping down for his own assault on Jack’s body. A long, lazy lick to the hollow of Jack’s throat, which was beginning to pool with sweat, was followed by a painfully slow suffusion of pleasure as Will brushed their hips together.

“Wi, Will,” Jack almost sobbed out as another slow rub on Will’s part had the hair on their groins chafing together. There really was something to say for experience and Jack thanked every last one of Will’s faceless, nameless, lovers for their contributions to the boy’s repertoire.

“What?” he said as a hand pulled at the hem of Jack’s shirt, trying to get underneath.

“What do you want me to do?” Jack groaned. Will had calluses on his right index finger, and slightly rough skin on the heel of both hands. Neither Jack’s rib-cage, nor his nipples, were complaining. Next time he saw the man he’d have to thank Tashiaki Shichirobei for pushing the boy into the pursuit of bodily pleasures, even if it had taken some spiritual gobbledy gook to get the lad’s blood pumping.

Will grinned against his adam’s apple as Jack’s body arched from a sudden vicious twist of a hardened nub. “Just follow my lead.”

“Mmmm,” Jack acknowledged. “Like this?” He shifted suddenly on the cot, frame creaking. Winding his legs around Will’s hips, he leaned back slightly to get better leverage. Grabbing hold of the head of the bed with his left hand for balance, he thrust up. Hard.

“Oh, God!” Will shouted, hands dropping to clutch at Jack’s thighs.

Unfortunately Jack himself had just about blown it with that last maneuver. Literally. He kept his hand on the head of the cot, feeling the burn of Will’s hands through his cloth incased legs as the boy tried to keep him still until he regained his composure. Taking a couple deep breaths Will looked sternly down into Jack’s own glassy eyes.

“Problem?” Jack rasped out.

“Not at all,” he replied, running his hands further up Jack’s legs and brushing his thumbs at the apex.

It was Jack’s turn to squirm, panting slightly as he transferred both his hands to Will’s shoulders.

“Come on, Jack, let go,” Will whispered against the older man’s chin, mouthing to catch a drop of moisture.

“Aye,” was the distracted reply as a heavily ringed right hand slid down off Will’s shoulder, tweaking a nipple on the way southward.

Will wound an arm around Jack’s lower back to keep them steady, then returned the favor.
He pulled at the blood suffused organ running his thumb over the underside, then over the tip to smear the liquid gathered there. The narrow hips jerked forward into Jack’s own grip as the pirate found purchase, bumping the hand Will had curled around his partner’s cock. The movement caused Will’s grasp to slide up Jack’s shaft, the rough hands burning sensitive skin, as unaccustomed friction made itself known. Jack had never felt so sensitized in his life.

Realizing he’d need a bit more lubrication or the novelty of this experience would wear itself, and the skin on Jack’s cock, out very fast, Will squeezed and caressed Jack lightly, gathering more of the moisture which flowed from the tip. Slicking it down the column of flesh and coating the palm of his hand, he created a slippery tunnel for the pirate to thrust in to.

The younger man dropped his head to Jack’s shoulder, rolling it to the side and sucking at the juncture between his shoulder and neck, grip tightening as he wound up tighter. On the next up stroke Will gave the tip of Jack’s cock a little twist and that was all he could take. Will bit down hard in response to the strangling noise buffeting Jack’s throat. Wet heat splashed over Will’s hand and he thrust himself harder into Jack’s slackening grip, trying to reach his own peak.

“Come on Jack, almost there,” he grunted, bringing his drenched hand over to wrap itself around Jack’s, tightening the failing pressure around himself. It seemed the sensation of his bare hand covered in Jack’s release, coating everything, was enough for the younger man. He crested, pulling Jack’s body closer to him, entire length of his body twitching madly.

“Will?” Jack wheezed, once sufficiently recovered, tracing a light fingertip over the blossoms of color inked into Will’s skin. With the sweat slicking the boy’s body, it looked like a sheen of dew, or the remnants of rain, were clinging to the petals.

“Hmmm?” the mouth still pressed against his moist neck resonated.

“I guess this means I *can*.”

The end

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