jackxwill - pirates of the caribbean slash

Title: War Wounds

Author: Seraphina (leedd1@student.monash.edu)

Pairing: Jack/Will

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Will asks Jack about his tattoos and scars.

Response to the Jack/Will ficathon, written for Bria (doeeyedgrim)
Request 1: No extreme sappiness. A little bit of lurve is good, but seriously now, they're pirates. Request 2: Have Will ask Jack about his tattoos/scars/any other interesting markings. I wanna hear what you people come up with :)
Restriction 1: No, and I mean NO, Norrington. I am not a fan of Sparrington unless it also involves Will, so to make it easy I'm just going to ask that he not be included in this fic at all. Restriction 2: No AU/gen. I'm just not a huge fan of it, that's all.

Disclaimer: I own nothing...not even the computer I’m writing this on.

Warning: This is SLASH people. Meaning there is EXPLICIT material about TWO MEN having SEX with EACH OTHER. If you do not like SLASH, if SLASH offends you in any way, LEAVE now, DO NOT READ. I take no responsibility whatsoever if you read this.

Feedback: PLEASE!!!!

A/N: Thankyou, thankyou, THANKYOU to my wonderful betas Grey Even-Eyes and RAS…you saved my life dudes!

It could be worse, Will surmised, struggling under the frozen, sodden weight of his Captain. He could be dead. But no. Had he been dead, Jack would not be whining right now. And Will would not be equally, if not more, wet and frozen as the damnable pirate. Still, the chances of Jack slipping on ice and dying from it were of course, fairly slim, even with Jack’s wont of achieving the impossible taken into account. All right, so it would have been easier if Jack had simply knocked himself unconscious when he’d slipped on the icy deck of the Pearl, subsequently putting his back out.

Will’d had enough and was getting fairly close to knocking the man out himself, but they arrived at Jack’s bed before he could reach the end of his tether. As it was, he dumped the whinging form unceremoniously upon the bed, and was rewarded with a howl of pain and a stream of expletives from several different languages.

“Oh do shut up, Jack,” Will chastised, shrugging out of the woollen coat he wore, now heavy and frigid with melted snow. The vest came next, followed by the shirt, and all three articles were then slung over a chair beside a lighted brazier.

Jack, looking something like a waterlogged marionette whose strings had gone slack, gaped angrily at the smith from his place on the bed. “ ‘Shut up’? ‘Shut up’?! Fer a start, it’s ‘shut up, Captain’ an’ secondly, I’m injured, I’m in pain an’ I need sympathy…oh, an’ a doctor,” he added as an afterthought. “I need one o’ those! Fetch th’ physician!”

Will sighed, shaking his head in exasperation, wiping the back of his hand across wind-chapped lips in an attempt to rub some feeling back into them. “We don’t have a physician, Captain.”

Jack frowned, his soggy tricorn slipping down over his forehead. “O’ course we do!” He snatched the offending hat impatiently from his head and threw it on the floor somewhere. “McAuth…Marth…Mathe-“

Every day Will asked himself the same question; why had he chosen the Black Pearl over Port Royal? So far the decision had rewarded him with several near death experiences, a price on his head, an irritating captain, and over the last week; freak blizzards and ice slicked decks, since said irritating captain had navigated them as far south as he dared in an attempt to avoid all manner of maritime authorities. This last matter was perhaps worth the frustrations just to have been able to witness Jack ordering his crew about one minute, and being flat on his back the next, scrabbling about like an upturned turtle unable to right itself, when the slippery deck had gotten the better of him.

“Matthews?” Will supplied, a dubious look plastered over his sharp, young features. The smith moved to stand in front of the brazier, running his hands over arms that were rapidly covering in goose bumps, trying to reverse the effects of the weather outside.

“Aye, tha’s the one. Mr Matthews. Where’s he then?”

“Brazil, I hope.”

Jack’s eyes flew open comically, the kohl around them giving the whites the illusion of a preternatural glow, in the dim light of their current surroundings. “Brazil?! Wha’ the blazes is ‘e doin’ in Brazil?!”

Will rolled his eyes. Trust his Captain to have not even noticed the absence of one of their more important crewmembers. “He will have swum there I expect, after you made him walk the plank somewhere off Rio Grande when he confiscated your rum.”

“Ohhh,” Jack said with a dawning understanding, trying to nod his head but wincing at the movement.

“Yes, ‘ohhh’ indeed.” The smith arched an eyebrow sceptically at his captain, wondering what the next brainless request to leave the pirate’s mouth would be. His face softened though as he saw the genuine pain that Jack was in. It wasn’t, after all, Jack’s fault they were here. Well no, it was. But it wasn’t Jack’s fault they’d had to make the decision to leave the Caribbean in the first place. Well actually that had been Jack’s fault too. Still, Will had only himself to blame for choosing to join the ranks of the Black Pearl and everything that came with it, even if it did mean he could no longer feel his toes. He sighed, kicked off his boots and stockings, and padded over the bed wearing only his breeches. “The things I do for you.”

“I’m so sorry tha’ helpin’ me in me hour o’ need is such a chore fer ye, Mr Turner.” Jack’s voice was laced with sarcasm, but he shut his mouth at the glare Will gave him and instead held out his arms in an effort to assist the lad in the removal of his own wet clothes.

And it was an effort, Will could see, as Jack’s face screwed up at the movement. To give the pirate credit, he didn’t make a sound as Will undid his sash, and pulled the shirt off as gently as his could. He did, however, make a sigh of relief as Will removed his boots, and Jack was free to lie back gently on the bed clad only in his breeches as well.

With their clothes left steaming in front of the brazier, Will stood over Jack, contemplating the next course of action. The pirate lay with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor and his left forearm resting over his eyes as if trying to shield himself from the pain.

“Right then, on your stomach, Captain.”

Jack groaned, his eyes peeking out from under his arm. “Can’t ye just leave me alone t’ die in peace?” This earned him an eye roll as Will grasped him by the other arm and pulled him up gently, helping the pirate to lie on his stomach, this time length ways across the bed, his head turned to the left.

“You’re not going to die from a sore back.” Will ignored the sounds of discomfort emanating from Jack, as he managed to position himself atop the older man, straddling the prone form just below the buttocks. “Much to chagrin of your crew.”

Despite having muttered the last part mainly to himself, Jack mumbled grumpily. “I heard tha’. And wha’s that’ supposed t’ mean anyway? I’m a won’erful Captain!”

Will laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles, eyeing the expanse of scarred and tanned skin below him, and tried to ascertain where the trouble was most likely to be coming from. “The problem with you Jack is that when you suffer, your whole crew suffers along with you, only ten fold.” He swept Jack’s hair to one side and began to feel his way gently down the pirate’s spine. Jack flinched slightly at the cold fingers, but otherwise did not complain, waiting for Will to go on. “If you get a cold, we get pneumonia. You stub your toe, we have a broken foot. You have a pain in the neck and we have a pain in the arse.”

Jack snorted. “You haven’t got a pain in the arse ‘til I give ye one, whelp.” Jack leered at him from over his shoulder, shifting the hips under Will in a lewd manner.

Will lifted a brow and met Jack’s eyes dispassionately. “Thought you were injured, old man.”

Jack growled. “Respect yer elders, cabin boy.”

At that, Will pressed into Jack’s spine a little more viciously than necessary, gripping Jack’s hips with his thighs to balance himself as the pirate bucked slightly and yelped.

“Play nice or I’ll do a lot worse,” he said in response to the daggers Jack was shooting back at him.

The glare turned to a pout though, and Jack began to whine again. “Yer th’ one who called me old.”

Will’s fingers paused as he came to a spot between golden shoulder blades, where he suspected the problem was, and began to gently manipulate the area. “Well you’re more old, than I am a cabin boy.”

Jack mumbled something that Will didn’t quite catch, then hissed when the smith’s fingers pressed in a particularly tender spot.

“Right there?” Will asked, pressing the spot again, and again Jack hissed.

Will nodded to himself, and placed the palm of his right hand over the spot. “Breathe out when I tell you to,” he instructed, covering that hand with his left one.

Jack looked back at Will, trying to see what he had in mind. “Are ye sure ye know what yer doing? I mean, not tha’ I doubt yer methods in any way wha’ so ever. It’s jus’…well we could sail back to Rio Grande an’ find Mr Matthews…” he trailed off, not wanting to incur the wrath of Will again.

Will chuckled, amused by the pirate’s wariness. “It’s alright, Jack. Working bones isn’t that far removed from working metal.”

“Oh, well tha’ makes me feel all th’ better. Jus’ don’t be thinkin’ ye can take t’ me with yer hammer an’ tongs though, savvy?”

“Just shut up and breathe out.”

Despite his slight apprehension, Jack did as he was told, and as he did so, Will put all of his weight behind his shoulders, pushing down with the heels of his palms. There was an audible crunch and Jack yelped again before the two of them went silent, Jack completely out of breath and Will holding his.

Will was the first to speak after a long pause. “How’s that?”

Jack thought for a minute, trying to establish whether the pain had gone or if he’d just been paralysed before he answered. “Much better,” he panted, finally able to breathe.

Will laughed nervously. “Thank God.”

Jack frowned, pushing himself up onto his elbows, so he could better turn to look at the young man straddling him. “You had no idea wha’ ye were doin’ then, did you?”

Will smiled guiltily. “None whatsoever.”

Jack looked horrified and he opened his mouth to say something, but Will leaned forward, covering the older man’s back with his chest, his hands resting on Jack’s shoulders. “I would not have hurt you,” Will said softly against the skin of the pirate’s neck, warm from being covered by thick, black braids.

All thoughts of berating currently gone from his head, Jack yielded to the feel of the smith above him, and allowed himself to collapse onto the bed again. “I’m no’ an old man,” Jack added quietly, unable to not have the last word.

Will chuckled, sitting up, and moving his hands over Jack’s back again, gently massaging his shoulders and the area he’d just been working on. “No you’re not,” he agreed. He knew how touchy Jack was about the subject, Will being almost half the older man’s age, and he was sorry he’d said it now. He was in a bad mood and he shouldn’t have taken it out on Jack, even if the pirate captain was notorious for taking his own moods out on everyone around him.

Why had Will chosen the Black Pearl over Port Royal? The answer moaned from beneath him, and his lips quirked into a smile. Not four months ago when the whole Barbossa fiasco was over and Will had come to terms with the fact that he and Elizabeth could never be completely happy together, Jack had popped back up into his life as if on cue, and seduced the young blacksmith. Of course Will had been naïve then, having no idea that such a relationship could occur between two men, but he’d been a quick learner and Jack had taught him well. What’s more, the lessons had been enjoyable and he’d been eager to please.

Needless to say, Will’s ignorance had been swept away with the tides, along with his innocence. Yes, Jack was a knave and a cad, but Will was insatiable and had been known to play quite the slut when the night crew had taken over, and they’d retired to the captain’s quarters together. And yes, they fought and quarrelled, and at times argued hellaciously over differences of opinions. But then they would always make up with a fairly animalistic and violent session of buggering, followed by the softer, sweeter actions of what Will had heard referred to as ‘making love’. Well, Will wasn’t too sure about that one. Their lifestyle didn’t leave much room for such fancies as love, but he knew there was something there, not to mention being incredibly in lust with the pirate he currently had between his thighs.

Will kneaded the strong flesh beneath his hands, eliciting more groans from Jack, who rolled his shoulders creating a lovely ripple effect under Will’s fingers. Scars and tattoos undulated, his fingers dancing over one inky image in particular; the union jack on the right shoulder-blade in all her tricolour glory. “When did you get that?” he asked softly, caressing the skin the flag was imprinted on. He’d seen it before of course, but generally when he was in the position to look over Jack’s naked body, he wasn’t much interested in the whys and wherefores of the pirate’s body art. On the odd occasion that Will had asked about the origins of a certain injury or tattoo, Jack had concocted impressive harebrained tales of death and destruction, purely for entertainment purposes and to make himself look good. There had been no truth behind them.

“Back when I were in th’ navy,” Jack said after a fairly loud moan, “Me an’ the boys were feelin’ uncharacteristically patriotic tha’ day if I recall. Hmmmm, keep goin’, lad. Feels gooood.”

Will nodded and continued as requested, although the sounds that Jack was making were beginning to stoke a fire in his belly. Will tried to ignore the feeling, and concentrated at the task at hand. He knew little about Jack’s history in the British navy, only that it was where the pirate had started his seafaring adventures and that the very people who had been his colleagues, were now the bane of his existence. Will’s fingers moved over the multitude of shiny, pearl-white scars that marred the beautiful back belonging to his lover. “And these…they’re from ‘the cat’, yes?”



Jack nodded, eyes closed, and brow creased in a grimace of contentment. “Tha’ was for goin’ ashore withou’ permission t’ get tha’ blasted tattoo.”

Will made a snort of amusement. “Bet you never did that again.”

“Yer right there. Me an the lads took over HMS Victoria an’ became pirates. Oooooh, righ’ there, Will, tha’s it.”

Jack bucked his hips up slightly and Will, who was already fairly pitching a tent in his breeches, gave his own little choked sound as Jack’s clothed buttocks brushed against his sensitive need. He licked his lips and closed his eyes for a second, battling for composure, and when he opened them again, Will was met by an arched brow over a kohl-rimmed eye looking back at him.

“Alright there, lad?” Jack glanced down at Will’s obvious arousal, and then back up at his face.

“I’m fine, just a little-” a small whine was forced from the back of Will’s throat as Jack thrust his hips up again, smirking at the reaction he got.

“Jus’ a little wha’?”

Will took a deep, shuddering breath. “Jack, I hardly think activities such as the ones flitting through that mad head of yours right now, will do your back any good.”

Jack’s eyes twinkled, but he forced his face into an expression of innocence. “An’ wha’ activities would they be then?” He wriggled his arse from side to side, the innocent look remaining.

Will groaned now and draped himself over Jack’s back again in defeat. “We shouldn’t,” he said without much conviction, as he pressed his lips to the tattoo that had just been the topic of conversation. He felt Jack reach back and caress his own breech-clad thigh.

“I don’t see why no’.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His lips trailed across Jack’s left shoulder to the pirate’s ear, and his eyes closed as he breathed in the older man’s scent; sea, rum and wind- delicious.

“You won’t.” The hand started to make slow circles on his thigh.

“You should rest,” Will whispered softly against Jack’s ear, offering one last, feeble excuse.

“I can rest perfectly well on me back while you do all th’ work.” Jack was rolling over now, giving Will no other choice but to raise himself up and let his captain do as he willed.

Once Jack was facing him and looked as if he was as comfortable as he was going to get, Will lowered his body back down, knees still straddling the older man’s hips, but his hands now braced against the bed on either side of Jack’s head. Jack’s hands had found themselves on Will’s own hips, and were now tracing up and down the skin of Will’s relatively untarnished back.

Jack’s erection was now as obvious as his own, and Will leant down and pressed his forehead against Jack’s, their noses touching as he ground their pelvises together lightly, the cloth of their breeches still maintaining a barrier.

Will captured Jack’s mouth with his own, swallowing the groan that the friction between them had caused, before it could leave Jack’s lips. He swept his tongue over gold-capped teeth teasingly, pulling away again before Jack’s tongue could snake its way into his mouth. Will smiled at the affronted look on Jack’s face at having been denied the access but otherwise ignored it, reaching back and taking Jack’s left hand in his right, effectively removing it from continuing its ministrations on his back.

His eyes not leaving Jack’s, Will turned the pirate’s arm to face palm up then traced his finger up over the wrist to ghost over the grisly scar that ran up the forearm. “How did you get this?”

Jack frowned, shaking his head slightly. “Wha’ t’ye want t’ know about this now fer?”

“Because I do,” Will said firmly, his fingers still trailing back and forth over the rope like flesh. “If I have to do all the work while you just lie there, then you can at least tell me some tales to keep me entertained.”

“Oh ha ha, how very amusing. Now come ‘ere, whelp.” Jack made to pull his arm from Will’s grasp and kiss the lad, but Will held firm and moved his head back out of the reach of Jack’s mouth.

“Tell me,” Will said softly, “Or I’ll give you nothing.” He ground his hips against Jack’s again in emphasis, delighting in the sight of kohl-rimmed eyes flickering back into their sockets, before they refocused again. They saw the conviction in Will’s features, and rolled in acquiescence. Will smiled mischievously and lowered his head to kiss Jack’s throat. “Start talking,” he said against the warm flesh, before his tongue darted out and began to lap and nuzzle at Jack’s neck. Will released Jack’s arm however, and allowed the pirate to return the hand to its place on his back, as Jack sighed and started to talk.

“Before th’ whole affair with Barbossa,” Jack started, but paused to hiss as the hand that had previously held his left arm captive, snaked in between the two of them and pinched his left nipple.

“Yes,” Will prompted, his lips trailing along Jack’s collarbone, nibbling and sucking as they went. He continued the maddening assault on the nipple though, his other hand coming in to tweak the right one too. He felt a growl vibrating against his lips and smirked against Jack’s skin.

Jack breathed out heavily through his nose, his eyes closing and brow creasing, as he tried to concentrate. Hands coming to rest on Will’s shoulders, Jack gripped them tightly as he continued. “Had me a run in with th’ East India Trading Companeeee…Christ! Um…was recognised by me Sparrow tattoo- which I got in celebration of acquiring the Pearl, before ye bloody well ask. They gave me m’ brand and were plannin’ on ahhhhh…plannin’ on transportin’ me back t’ England an th’ noose. ohhhh…do tha’ again.”

One of Will’s hands had left Jack’s nipple- his lips were firmly attached to the hard nub now- and made its way languidly down to Jack’s confined arousal, to rub it gently yet firmly, through the rough fabric.

Jack didn’t speak for a moment, except to mutter a few obscenities, and Will let go of the nipple that was between his teeth. “If you stop, I stop,” he warned, his hand pausing as well to demonstrate.

Jack whimpered and screwed up his face, but carried on with the story. “Bloody hell….I escaped the brig one night an’…oh God, Will…an’ tried to jump ship. I-I don’t know wha’ happened exactly but it all went to shite, found meself hangin’ by a grapplin’ hook in me arm off the stern o’ a bloody man o’ war.” Jack finished the last bit quickly, and with a rather loud moan. The hand had stopped rubbing his cock, and Jack could no longer feel Will’s mouth on his chest. Cracking an eye open, he found himself peeping up at a very distressed looking Will Turner.


Will didn’t answer, but made a strange sound in the back of his throat. Sitting up, he reached back and grabbed Jack’s left arm, bringing it between them to examine the scar again. “You were hanging by a grappling hook?” he finally managed, looking back up at Jack.

Jack nodded in affirmation, and Will’s expression turned to one of regret. The lad’s eyes flitted back down to look at the scar. He then brought it to his lips to kiss along its length.

Jack watched this for a moment before rolling his eyes. He snatched his arm away from Will’s sweet, yet somehow annoying onslaught, and pulled the lad down on him again. “War stories an’ sex do no’ make fer a good mix,” he said, gazing firmly into the sorrow-filled orbs above him. “We’ll leave th’ tales fer later, but this…” Jack thrust his straining erection against Will’s, growling as he did so, “We finish now, savvy?”

Will didn’t have to be asked twice, and he crushed his lips against his captain’s allowing the older man’s tongue immediate entrance. Their movements were more frenzied; the time for games was over. It was Jack who pulled back though, his lips sliding across to Will’s ear and panting, “Breeches, off, now.”

Jack sucked the lad’s earlobe into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and Will gasped, trying desperately to rid them both of their pants at the same time without much success. It became obvious that Will would need to get off the bed to achieve this in any sort of manner that could be considered timely. So he pried himself off of Jack and stood beside the bed, quickly shedding himself of the cumbersome, woollen breeches.

Jack was doing the same from his horizontal position, and had actually managed to get the garment off most of the way, until a twinge of pain had him squeezing his eyes shut with a yelp, and he ceased moving altogether.

Will stopped still beside the bed, chewing on his lip and looking worriedly at Jack. “Perhaps we should stop,” he suggested.

Jack opened his eyes quickly, looked at Will’s throbbing erection, down at his own painfully hard shaft then up at Will’s face. They both started at each other for a beat, before saying in unison, “No!”

Jack gritted his teeth and succeeded in kicking the breeches off completely, just as Will took up his place above him again, straddling him so that their cocks rubbed deliciously against each other, his hands planted firmly on either side of Jack’s head once more.

Will looked down at the pirate, a serious expression clouding his features. “You will tell me if I hurt you, won’t you?”

“O’ course I will,” Jack ground out, arching his back to increase the friction against his aching member.

“Liar,” Will gasped, rocking his own hips in response to Jack’s movement.


The last of Will’s resolve went out the window then and he ducked his head, dipping his tongue into the hollow of Jack’s throat, tasting the sweat that was pooling there. He then began to trail his tongue down the pirate’s chest, nipping at Jack’s right nipple as he went, revelling in the feel of Jack’s hands as they found their way to Will’s head, the long fingers entangling themselves in his hair. He paused long enough, when his lips reached Jack’s navel, to thrust his tongue in and out of it several times, eliciting mewls and moans that signalled the rapidly declining composure of his captain.

Leaving the pirate’s navel glistening with saliva, and the stomach muscles twitching helplessly around it, Will’s tongue continued its journey, ignoring the hard shaft that bobbed weeping and hot against his chest. Instead he swept across the heated skin to Jack’s hip, where scrawled permanently just above the start of the coarse, dark hair that Will so loved to bury his nose in, was the word ‘William’.

Will had no need to ask of the history behind this tattoo. It was the result of a particularly vicious row the two of them had, after a raid that had turned unexpectedly violent. The argument had ended with broken rum bottles, Jack yelling something about ‘the futility of taking the moral high ground with a pirate’, and Will’s subsequent refusal to talk to Jack for the several days that followed. Until, that is, Jack had turned up drunk after four days of shore leave in Tortuga, dropped his breeches to display his new acquired ‘apology’, then promptly passed out.

Will laved the area now with the flat of his tongue, tasting his name on Jack, the pirate’s fingers digging into his scalp, while the very word beneath the younger man’s lips escaped those of his lover. Will raked his nails down over Jack’s chest, running his hand down and around to knead the pirate’s buttocks and lifted Jack’s hips slightly, as Will’s mouth finally made its way to that glorious cock, pausing only to tug teasingly at the springy hair with his teeth.

He didn’t start at the tip immediately, instead beginning the assault at the base of the weeping shaft, tongue darting out to follow the vein running along the underside. Will felt Jack’s heels dig into the bed beside him as he licked, kissed and nibbled his way up the appendage, and the pirate drove his hips up, moaning shamelessly. When his lips did reach the head, Will took the time to tongue the slit, savouring the salty-tang of the pre-cum pearling there. But at the sound of his captain’s babbled urgings, he brought one hand around from under Jack to cup the pirate’s heavy bollocks, and swooped down to engulf the entire hardened length with his mouth. Jack howled as Will dragged his teeth expertly along the sensitive skin, and the smith was forced to remove his other hand from under Jack and place it on the pirate’s abdomen in an attempt to stop himself being choked. Once Jack was stayed, Will began his skilled onslaught, head bobbing up and down as he sucked the rigid shaft, swirling his tongue around the head with each pass.

Jack’s breath hitched in his throat as Will’s right hand gently massaged the heavy sacs between his thighs, calloused fingers dancing expertly over the fuzzy skin. One of the pirate’s hands slid from its place on the smith’s head, searching for and finding Will’s fingers caressing his belly. Their fingers entwined, Will started to hum deep in his throat, raising his eyes to watch Jack’s response as the pirate undulated on the bed.

The older man threw his head back, his neck cording with the strain. If he could have, Will would’ve smiled but the current situation did a good job of preventing this. He loved having this power over Jack. Out on deck, in front of the crew of the Pearl, Jack was always Captain. Everyone was aware of their relationship of course, but he was still bound to the same rules as everyone else, Jack showing him no favour just because they shared a bed. In fact, Jack was possibly harder on Will than was necessary. Perhaps because the pirate knew that once they were alone and in the captain’s quarters, Will would give his own back. Jack himself only ever addressed the smith as Mister Turner out on deck, but in here ‘Will’ was a mantra that was chanted often with complete and utter abandon by the pirate, and Will thrived on it.

Jack moaned the name now, bringing a leg up and slinging it over Will’s shoulder, the smith feeling the sharp pressure of Jack’s heel baring down on his back, forcing the lad into the mattress. He’d all but forgotten his own need but now as it almost painfully met with the rough bedclothes, Will whimpered and thrust his hips forward, starting a rhythm against bed that matched that of his mouth on Jack’s cock.

Jack must have noticed this action, because at that moment the grip on Will’s hand tightened and he was being hauled up Jack’s body, away from the friction of the blankets and the pirate’s engorged sex. Once again, he found himself straddling Jack, their foreheads pressed together as they both breathed heavily, desperate for release.

“Can’t have ye soilin’ me nice clean blankets,” Jack panted, capturing Will’s mouth with his own, his hand reaching out blindly towards the small table next to the bed, looking for the vial of oil normally kept there, growling as their hard lengths brushed against each other in the process.

Tearing his mouth away, Will’s hand closed around Jack’s extended wrist as he stared down hungrily at the pirate. Jack’s expression turned from questioning to one of desire, as his hand was brought to Will’s mouth where his fore and middle fingers disappeared between swollen, pink lips, while half lidded eyes continuing to gaze at Jack. The actions Will performed on the fingers were not unlike the one’s he’d just finished doing to the hardness that now moved against the smith’s belly, even if the effect was not quite the same. Jack made a few small noises of encouragement, his other hand dipping between them to pinch roughly at Will’s nipples. Will’s mouth dropped open as a mewl escaped his lips and he closed his eyes as Jack’s saliva slicked finger’s abandoned the warm, wet cavern and made their way languidly over Will’s heated skin, down the lad’s side to the small of his back and then down the cleft of his arse.

Jack’s fingers moved deftly to their target, where they encountered only a slight resistance before muscles relaxed and the digits slid easily into the tight entrance. Will pushed back panting, urging Jack to push deeper inside, to which the pirate happily obliged. He scissored the fingers as he did so, preparing the way for his arousal, which at the thought, throbbed and swelled even more. He added another finger to the heated aperture, angling the thrust of his hand to hit the sensitive gland deep within Will. Jack’s name escaped the youth’s lips, but Will, impatient and not in need of the meticulous preparation that Jack would try to insist on bestowing- he was no blushing virgin after all- decided that enough was enough. Regretfully, he wrenched his hips forward, forcing Jack’s fingers to abandon their machinations. He sat up upright, hissing as their arousals brushed together. Will lifted his hand to his mouth and spat into his palm, grinning down at Jack as he then reached down and grasped the rigid column of flesh below his own, slicking it with saliva as he had done with Jack’s fingers. Jack grasped Will’s hips in anticipation as the smith raised himself up on his knees slightly, hovering over his captain’s cock, letting it brush enticingly against his opening. They both moaned and then, holding the pirate’s gaze strongly with his own heated one, Will sank slowly onto Jack’s erection, letting out a hissed ‘yesssssss’ as he went.

Will’s breath hitched when the cock was fully sheathed in him, Jack staying him with soft words and caressing movements to the lad’s hips before the pirate took up a ruthless rhythm, driving up into the lad above him. Will fell forward, hands splayed on the scarred chest beneath him.

“Stop,” he panted into Jack’s open mouth and the pirate acquiesced, his own breath mingling rapidly with Wills. “Slowly,” Will whispered against Jack’s lips when he’d regained some composure, his eyes closed as his swollen flesh brushed against the pirate’s facial hair. Jack nodded his agreement, running his hands up over Will’s back as he began to move again, this time at a slow and tortuous tempo.

The smith’s shoulders quaked as his lips traced down over Jack’s jaw line, the deliberate, long strokes of the pirate’s hips, painfully delicious to him. With the side of his face pressed firmly to that of Jack’s, and his breath coming ragged in the pirate’s ear, Will’s hands began to play over Jack’s chest, worrying the nipples and earning the lad a deep moan in his ear. His left hand travelled up, the pads of Will’s fingers brushed over the twin bullet scars they found there. In the light, the flecked, black powder residue still embedded there could be seen. But Will was going by feel alone, circling the marred flesh he'd memorized.

“Me own crew did tha’,” Jack offered unprompted, one of his hands floating down to rest on the curve of Will’s arse as the smith rode him. “Though’ I was a Spanish marine.”

“Why’d they think that?” Will gasped, rolling his hips slightly in an attempt to change the angle of their thrusts.

“’Cause I was dressed as a Spanish marine.”

Will’s chuckle of response became a keening moan as Jack obliged the smith in changing the angle of his penetration. His fingers left the bullet scars and moved to outline a scar he knew to be just below the pirate’s ribs.

“Bayonet, three years ago, Kingston.”

Will touched his hand to Jack’s shoulder, breathing harder as the pirate increased the pace slightly. A tattoo of a rose was under his fingers.

“Was drunkahhhh, can’t remember. Christ, Will!”

Will, not one for coherent speech during times like these, grunted and drove himself down harder onto the pirate’s cock, meeting him thrust for agonizing thrust. Next, the fingers of his other hand laced themselves in the pirate’s hair, outlining yet another scar hidden by the multitude of braids and dreads.

“Bar brawl, broken bottle,” Jack supplied with hitching moan as he upped the speed again, and Will latched onto his neck with teeth and tongue, the smith’s fingers coming to rest finally on a tattoo of the Jolly Roger on the older man’s left bicep.

“Pirate,” he growled by way of explanation and grasped both of Will’s hips, setting an altogether more satisfying pace.

“Jack,” Will mewed, pushing himself upright to gain more leverage with his knees, bouncing and rotating his hips and grasping his own length in his fist, jacking himself to the rhythm of their thrusts. With Jack hitting his prostate with every move of the pirate’s hips, Will was close to climax in little time, although found himself on the precipice of release and unable to tumble over. “Can’t…please,” Will whimpered, incapable of articulating himself.

Jack’s hand joined his and the lad felt himself being urged to lean back as the pirate bought his knees up to support him. “Yes ye can, Will,” came the gruff reply as the fingers of Jack’s other hand slipped in beneath the smith’s bollocks to massage the patch of skin just before their joining. Will gave a startled cry and threw his head back, eyes scrunched up. “Come for me, me Will.”

Will felt the pressure growing as he bore down on Jack’s cock and manipulating fingers, and his own hand worked with the pirate’s on his painfully aroused member, until he felt his bollocks clench and heat spread through his belly. Jack’s name left his lips as his hot seed shot out between them, his orgasm causing the muscles around the pirate’s cock to contract and send Jack over the edge also.

Will slumped forward with exhaustion, collapsing on Jack with the pirate still inside him. He felt Jack’s arms encircle him, Will’s nose resting in the hollow of the older man’s throat as their chests heaved with exertion. One of the lad’s hands still remained trapped between them and he brought it up, raising his head as he urged his fingers into Jack’s mouth, the digits sticky with his release.

Jack sucked greedily, laving and cleaning them with his tongue before Will’s lips met his and the youth forced his own slick muscle into the pirate’s mouth, tasting himself on Jack.

The pirate moaned into the kiss and gasped Will’s wrist with the opposite hand, pulling his fingers from Jack’s mouth. The older man pulled back from the kiss, his eyes dancing as he placed their hands palm to palm, matching scars touching.

“And this ‘ere’s me favourite.”

Will smiled, allowing himself to slip to the side of his lover, Jack’s now limp member sliding from between his buttocks. “Really?”

“Aye. Got it rescuin’ a little whore from a bunch o’ undead miscreants.”

“Jack,” Will chastised, slapping his captain lightly with his free hand but his smile didn’t waver. “You shouldn’t call Elizabeth a whore.”

A scallywag grin spread across Jack's features, and he leered at Will. “Who said I was talkin’ ‘bout Elizabeth?”

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