This shameless PWP was inspired by the song of the same title by Afro Celt Sound System Vol. 3:

Persistence of Memory

When I'm traveling far from home
on the white horizon,
I can feel you're still around,
and the dream overtakes me.

Then I know
you'll stay in this moment
we'll go where its flowing.
You'll be what you want to be
right here with me.

When I'm out here on my own,
and it all cuts through me.
I see you're safe alone,
oh then it hits me.

And I know
You're here in this moment,
right where its flowing.
You are what you want to be
right here with me.

Stay in this moment.
Go where it's flowing.
You are what you want to be
right here with me.

 

Will caught up with the Black Pearl and her infamous captain in Petit Goave.

The pirate haven was less notorious than Tortuga, but her French governor looked the other way where buccaneers were concerned, happy to accept the flow of Spanish gold and baubles that found their way into the taverns throughout the town. Piracy via second-hand exchanges was good business.

He had actually booked passage on a shady vessel with a questionable crew who asked no questions and accepted gold, from Port Royal to Tortuga, as Will was hoping to find Jack Sparrow or some of his crew there. Will had been disappointed, although the good citizens of Tortuga had been most illuminating—in more ways that one. With what he'd learned there of the captain of the Black Pearl, he now had twice the incentive for finding Jack.

After searching through grogshop after grogshop, checking with whorehouses, inns, and rumstores all over Tortuga and now Petit Goave, Will was growing accustomed to the dim lighting, the uproar of drunken, fist-fighting sailors and the raucous din in the streets outside such places.

He sidestepped a brawling couple of men and peered through the hazy interior of the latest tavern he had entered in the hopes of finding Jack Sparrow.

To his relief, he caught sight of a familiar, worn tricorn hat, from beneath which peered a pair of crow-black eyes, still adorned with an over-abundance of kohl. Jack Sparrow leaned earnestly towards the other patron who was sitting with his back to the door. Will could not tell who the man was, but whoever he might be, he obviously was listening most carefully to Jack.

As Will approached their table, Jack's eyes flicked up and noticed him. A few heart stopping moments of recognition passed as Jack paused briefly, then returned to his listener. Will carefully schooled his expression and did not give Jack the smile he felt inside. Instead, he waited nearby, looking about the crowded room. It was so good to see Jack again. Too much had happened since he'd last seen Jack. Marriage, broken dreams, unsettling dreams and finally desire and the pain of knowing he had to choose.

He was not close enough to overhear what Jack and his friend might be discussing, but he was patient and had searched long enough to know he need not interrupt whatever business Jack had with the fellow.

Sure enough, Jack's voice was suddenly beside him and he turned.

"Well, well, Mister Turner." Jack's grin was wide and seemed genuine. "Dare I presume you're loitering in such an unsavory and disreputable establishment looking for me?"

Will gave him a careful smile. "Hello, Jack. I am indeed. I need to speak with you."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Do you, now? And what could a blacksmith possibly need to discuss with a pirate such as myself?"

"My father," Will explained, simply.

Jack paused, and gave a wry smile that was less humorous than the one before. "Ah. Should've guessed. Never really had the opportunity before, did we?"

"We did not," Will agreed. The noise level was still too high. "Shall we find a quieter place to discuss this?"

Jack nodded and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Probably best not to regale the town with tales of Bootstrap—his reputation might suffer the truth and then where would you be?"

Will had to smile at this. "I hate to break it to you, Jack, but I'm not here to turn pirate."

Jack pulled an exaggerated frown at him. "Funny; I thought you already had."

"I'm a married man," Will said, not offering more of an explanation than that as they stepped out into the street.

But Jack lifted his brows. "I see! Well, that does make things decidedly murkier, doesn't it? So Elizabeth's gone and become a pirate's wife, eh? Shame I missed the wedding."

Will looked about them uncomfortably. "Where are we going?"

"The Pearl, where else?" Jack took a swig from the black glass rum bottle he had taken with him from the tavern. "Only place we're likely to have some decent quiet round here. 'Sides, the only men aboard are the Harbor Watch. Had to make sure Anamaria didn't stay on. Best to have her on shore when we come into port. I get more sleep that way."

Will was slightly surprised at this little revelation. "What, she's still with you? I mean, it's just... she seemed to want her own ship badly enough."

Jack gave a grin that flashed in the lamplights. "Would seem she wants gold more. I'm a fair man: the company has equal division of the spoils. We keep up our recent run of good luck, she'll have enough to buy her own ship after our next little venture."

As they made their way through the town down to the docks, Will asked, "How is Gibbs? And—and Mister Cotton? And his parrot?" He tried to remember the others.

Jack heaved a loud sigh and declared bitterly, "Damned bird is going to outlive us all, unfortunately. Sometimes I wonder who's running my ship." His hand went to his compass, which still hung from his belt, as if to reassure himself it was still there. Muttering in a lower voice, Jack continued, "I'm thinking of banning mascots entirely. No parrots, no monkeys, no turtles."

Will chuckled. "Turtles? But aren't they good for rations?"

"Rations, yes. Pets, no. Some fool turned them over in the night; came out on deck one morning to see all 'em crawling around my ship." Jack sounded peeved at the memory. "Thought I was still in some bloody nightmare, that the crew had gotten themselves cursed somehow and that was the result."

Will laughed. He'd missed Jack. It was too easy to fall back into the old pattern he'd first adopted with the pirate. Sidekick and pirate-in-training, he smiled to himself.

Jack peered at him in the gloom. "Are you dry, lad?"

"I am, and I intend to stay that way," Will replied, easily.

"Pity. So it's to be like that, eh?" Jack murmured in a knowing voice. And irrepressibly downed the last of the rum. He tossed the bottle into the water where it filled and sank slightly, bobbing on the surface in the dark. Jack climbed aboard one of the Pearl's longboats and informed him, "Seeing as this is business, you can row us back to the ship."

Will raised his brows at him. "Hardly fair, seeing as I'm going to have to row back on my own anyhow."

Jack leaned back, making himself comfortable, and grinned, "Aye, but you're forgetting conveniently enough that you're the whole reason I'm having to return prematurely and break off from a nice, long shore leave, mate."

Will sighed and resigned himself to taking up the oars. "Am I taking you from other matters, Jack? That fellow you were speaking to—"

Jack waved a hand languidly. "No-account fellow, not worth troubling your head about. And the Pearl's over there. That direction."

Will strained to see in the dark. He could make out a larger ship a little ways out, anchored in the harbor. Her black sails made her nearly invisible, apart from the other ships docked there with their brighter and clearer forms.

Jack was quiet for a moment and then said, "Really isn't that much to tell, to be honest. Bootstrap was an able fighter, a good man and a rapscallion. What more do you need to know?"

"Actually, that wasn't all I needed to speak with you about."

"Thought not," Jack commented. "If you're here seeking marriage counseling, you'd be better off with a priest."

Will frowned. "A priest? He'd know even less about married life than you do."

Jack chuckled. "Depends on the priest, now doesn't it?"

With a brief laugh, Will gave in. "You're right, I'm sure. But not the one who married us. Port Royal is rather more dull than the places you usually frequent."

"I remember it well, having fortuitously danced on your blade instead of the gallows the last time I set foot there." Jack sat up. "How is your lass, Will?"

They were halfway to the Black Pearl, as far as Will could judge. That was the nice thing about Petit Goave; the ships could drop anchor very near to shore. "She's quite well, actually. She told me to give you her regards."

"She's a fine girl. Got more pirate in her than you do, I'll warrant."

"You might be right, at that."

At Will's dry reply, Jack chuckled. "Her temper hasn't improved much, I take it?"

Will wondered how he could reply without doing Elizabeth a disservice. Carefully, he answered, "She's maturing."

"I take it you are too, then; albeit reluctantly." Jack sounded as though he were losing interest.

"I'm actually here at her behest," Will replied. "I made the mistake of calling out another's name."

Jack grunted. "I'm sorry to hear it, lad. Been there; best to be out of range afterwards. Especially of any breakables."

"Tell me about it," Will sighed. Then realized he'd left the perfect opening for Jack to launch into some embellished tale.

But Jack had seen they were quite near the Pearl now, and was preparing to get up. "We'll need more rum, if we're to be traveling down memory lane all night. Sure you won't join me? You'll need it more than I will, I think."

"You're too generous. No, thank you."

"Polite as always. Suit yourself. Not very courteous to leave a man drinking on his own though, wouldn't you say?"

Will stood up as they came abreast of the Pearl. "Very well, but only after we've cleared up a few matters that need our attention."

"Ahoy, there!" Jack called out. He turned back to Will, muttering, "Sounds positively dire, lad. The more rum, the better."

Will followed Jack up onboard with the assistance of two of the crewmen who stood watch. It felt strange but good to stand aboard Jack's ship. The first time he'd climbed aboard the Black Pearl was after Barbossa's crew had lit up the Interceptor and left him to sink to a watery grave. He'd only barely managed to escape going down with it, and swim his way across to where the Pearl still sat in triumph. Certainly this was a quieter, darker and safer reception than last time. Will had the terrible feeling it wouldn't remain so.

Captain Jack Sparrow sauntered to his cabin and opened the doors with a flourish. "Welcome aboard, Mister Turner."

Will entered the dark cabin, and waited as Jack lit the lamp and several candles. He went to sit down at the table, and Jack retrieved another bottle of rum before joining him, sitting across and uncorking the bottle.

"Now, Will. What is so serious that you had to risk yourself in person?" Jack's eyes were watching him shrewdly. "This wasn't any idle journey for you to make. And a fellow looking as clean as you do; well, let's just say you present an excellent target for pickpockets and pirates alike."

"The first matter can wait, I guess, about my father. I want to know about him. How you met him, and what he was like. But I suppose I have come to you as a friend. For marriage counseling, after all."

Jack shook his head. "She's got you licked already, hasn't she?" He considered his bottle. "It's really very simple. If you're not an honest man, a wife will attempt to make an honest man out of you. If you're already an honest man, she'll drive you to become a dishonest one. Best to avoid the entire thing altogether, if you get my meaning."

"I'm still an honest man," Will declared. "That's the problem. I refused to compromise my honesty and decided to be honest with her. She was not very happy about it."

Jack's shark grin was a reminder to Will that Jack himself was not exactly the best counsel in this case, as Jack had already told him. "Sounds to me like you've scuppered yourself, son."

Ruefully, Will looked down. "I'm inclined to agree with you on that score."

A little more gently, Jack asked, "Is she giving you an ultimatum, then? Or has she kicked you out already?"

Will sighed. "Ultimatum. Yes, I suppose it was, at that. Well, I guess you're right. There really is nothing else that can be done. My marriage is on the rocks, and it had only just begun."

Jack tutted at him. "I am sorry; although this may free you up to do some accounting with your own past, as well."

"Which reminds me, yes," Will said, rising to his feet and drawing his sword. "The first matter." He swiftly stepped around the table and pointed the sword at Jack.

Jack nearly spit out his rum, and coughed in mid-swallow. His eyes widened a little in panic and he hastily said, "Now, Will, see here—whatever she told you, it was a lie, honestly! Nothing happened. Nothing whatever."

"Nothing happened?" Will asked, positively confused now. He had no idea what Jack was babbling about. But a confession like this seemed too good to let go. His face hardened and he held the sword tip closer to Jack's chest.

Jack leaned back in his seat to get away from it. "Nothing! I swear. Give you my word, God's truth, lad! Whatever she said, it's a fabrication. All of it. I was a perfect gentleman."

Will scowled. "What, this is about Elizabeth?" He thought quickly. Jack had a guilty conscience... about his wife? Ex-wife? And then it dawned on him. "You tried to take advantage of her? That night you were both marooned, after—after Barbossa took me and left both of you on that island?"

Jack grimaced. "I didn't! We were having a drink, that's all! She must have taken advantage of me after I was passed out. And I certainly wish I could have remembered that," he added, in an undertone to himself.

"This is not about my wife," Will growled, his sword not wavering in the slightest. "It's about my father."

Jack looked completely floored. "Eh? What'd I do to him?"

"Contrary to what you seem to believe of me, Jack, I'm not stupid. I'm not a fool. You knew him, yes. But you knew him a little too well, didn't you?"

Jack gulped this time and tried to hold up his hands. "Now, Will, whatever it is that you think you're—"

"Don't bother, Jack. I went looking for you in Tortuga, where I met up with Scarlet. Remember her?"

Jack scowled. Then he brightened. "Oh, the wench... aye." Then he frowned. "What lies has that one been telling you, then?"

"Lies, Jack?" Will wondered how much exaggeration Scarlet had indulged in. She'd seemed too forthright and eager to complain to him about his, unbeknownst to her of course, father and his flighty friend, Captain Jack Sparrow. "She said she has a good memory. Said you and Bootstrap Bill showed up all puffed with pride and tales and swaggering about how you were going after the cursed treasure, and bought her services for the night."

"Will, it wasn't—" Jack tried to interrupt, but Will wasn't letting him get away with it this time.

He resolutely continued, raising his voice, "You put on her dress and then proceeded to ignore her while having your way with my father, and then you didn't even have the decency to dismiss her—she had to leave of her own accord, or watch! And then you stole her dress—you left in it and didn't even return it to her! It was her finest, she said."

"Don't remember that at all," Jack mused, in confusion. He swallowed, a look of puzzlement on his face. "On whose behalf are you angry, here? Scarlet's? Bill's? Yours?"

"I don't suppose you would have told me that, would you, Jack? That my father was your lover? No, I had to hear about it from a soured prostitute, who was all too eager to gossip about you downstairs in the tavern where the rest of the customers had a good laugh about it. I'll never be able to show my face there again." Will's voice was dark. "Bootstrap and Sparrow. The drunken scoundrels in a clinch. I'll never live it down. Thank God they didn't know who I was."

Jack was looking at the blade still pointed unerringly at him. "Um, this—Will, lad, you've got it all wrong. It wasn't quite like that."

"It was exactly like that," Will said in resolute anger. "Was he good?"

"Eh?" Jack was thrown, he could tell.

Will wanted to smile in amusement but he carefully kept his expression angrily glowering, stiffly trying not to crack and ruin the entire scene. Jack was too funny when he was off-balance. And besides, who knew what else Jack might reveal?

"My father. Was he any good, Jack?"

Jack went sly and lifted his chin. "Is that really what you're wondering here, lad?"

Will did wonder, at this. "What do you mean?"

Jack lifted his bottle and took a drink from it, trying to ignore Will's sword. "Don't you mean, am I any good?"

"I have no doubt that you are, to tempt a man like my father," Will countered, casually. "The real issue here is if you were even going to tell me. Or do I look too much like him?"

Jack blinked. He didn't have a ready answer either, for this one, and sought confidence in his rum once more.

Will manfully suppressed the grin that threatened to spread over his face at this. It was not only a victory to be able to reduce Jack to speechlessness, it was delightfully enjoyable to see him in such a helpless state for once. "Well, Jack?"

Jack winced and licked his lips. "Let's just say that it was a fling, nothing more. Didn't mean anything at all. Just a good time. For, let's see... was it—four times? Five?" Jack looked up, obviously trying to recall.

Will shook his head. "Not good enough," he warned, not taking his eyes from Jack's. "You weren't going to tell me, were you?"

Jack drew a breath. "No," he agreed. "I suppose I wasn't. Didn't really see the point. He's gone, and it wouldn't change things, so why bother? Knew you'd probably get bent out of shape over it, anyways," he added, resignedly taking another drink. He looked pointedly at the sword and then back up at Will. "You don't need that."

"Oh, I disagree," Will said, firmly. "Get up, Jack. Slowly."

Jack looked calm but he went tense. "Why?"

"Because you're going to show me how good you are."

Jack regarded him, tilting his head. "At what?" he grinned.

"A good time," Will said, repeating Jack's words back to him. "A fling, nothing more."

Jack let out a quiet breath. "Will, it isn't worth it. You don't need to do this. Bill was a friend. He didn't take it serious. You shouldn't either. It really isn't necessary."

"I'm afraid you're wrong this time," Will corrected. "It's more necessary than you realize."

"And I'm afraid it's going to take a little more than you waving a sword in my face and threatening me, to convince me. Savvy?" Jack had regained his balance.

Will had to bite the inside of his cheek not to crack a smile. "I do, indeed. But it's very necessary. You see, the name I called out in error was not Elizabeth's, nor was it another woman's. It was yours."

Jack stared at him.

Will frowned, wondering if Jack had understood, or even heard him.

Jack's eyes narrowed and he glanced sideways, obviously thinking this over. Then his gaze returned to Will's. "Alright, Mister Turner. So you haven't come here to defend your honor, or Elizabeth's, or Scarlet's, or your father's."

Will shook his head.

"And you haven't come here to join my crew and turn pirate."

Will shook his head again, noting how Jack seemed to be stalling for time. It made him thrum inside like a taut string, to have this brief taste of power over Jack—for once. He had no doubt Jack was going to find some way to make him pay for this, and no doubt sooner than he'd like.

Sure enough, Jack squinted at him and asked, "Just how much of me do you think you can handle?"

Will allowed himself a smile at this. "You're going to find out, I'm certain."

A flicker of something went through Jack's eyes at this, but he only replied, "How long have you been planning this, then?"

"Why does that matter?"

Jack shrugged a little. "Used to everyone wanting a piece; but it's usually at the end of a noose they want me. Makes a change to have someone like yourself actually doing all the pursuing."

"In that case, I'm sure you don't need more flattery, Jack. Seeing as you're so popular."

Jack grimaced. Then he looked at Will from beneath lowered lashes. It wasn't so much coy as it was dangerous. "So what are you waiting for?"

Will lifted his brows meaningfully, replying, "For as long as it takes for you to take off your clothes."

At this, Jack gave a quiet laugh. "Sorry, Will. You're going to have to do better than that. I don't respond well to threats. And that sword is still bothersome. Am I supposed to believe you're serious about using it, after you've just declared you're going to have your way with me?"

"Well, it's your choice, Captain. You can remove your clothing, or I can cut it from you. I believe you've already made your acquaintance with my blades. You know from experience just how sharp they are." Will was not about to relinquish control just yet. And he was enjoying this too much.

He hadn't expected to get this far. In truth, he hadn't expected things to get this far at all. He certainly hadn't intended for this to happen when he'd been searching for Jack. He'd been vaguely seeking a reckoning, and to clear up the matter of his father and Jack's acquaintance with Bootstrap, as well as himself.

Jack regarded him with a look of amusement now. "Very well. We'll play it your way."

Without taking his eyes from Will's, Jack began to undo the sash at his waist. With a slight smirk coming over him, Jack then undid his belt. Without getting up from the chair, he began to undo the laces of his breeches.

Nonchalantly, Jack asked, "That must have thrown her quite a bit." At Will's look, Jack supplied helpfully, "Elizabeth. She couldn't have been none to happy about that." The laces were undone and he began to shimmy in place in the chair, shifting them lower.

Will's breath caught in his throat at it. Jack's white shirt hid too much, still concealing Jack from Will's suddenly hot gaze. He remembered himself and tore his eyes upwards to see Jack's smirk had intensified.

"Two Turners for the price of one," Jack commented.

"Yes. I suppose one good Turner deserves another," Will said. He backed up, but still held the sword. "Stand up. And take off the shirt."

Jack casually removed one of his boots, then the other. He stood, and began to lift his shirt up over his head.

Will held his breath.

Shaking his dark hair loose, the beads clinking, Jack murmured, "Haven't taken it all off for someone in, well, let's see..." His eyes widened. "Now that can't be right."

Will stifled a groan. "Since my father?" he sighed.

Jack gave a little shrug. "Doesn't this bother you any?"

Will smiled at him, indulgently. "It bothers me most urgently, Jack. But what bothers me most of all is that you still haven't taken off your breeches."

"Damned pushy, too. I remember that as well," Jack muttered. But he complied.

Will wondered why he was bothering to hold the sword now, because Jack's unclad hips and slender legs were causing most distressing reactions throughout his entire body. And the dark curls of hair between Jack's legs, together with a decidedly interested cock that stood proudly, was undoing his composure.

To see Jack Sparrow, finally, naked and bare before him...

Nights of futile imaginings and confused fantasies, combined with the self-hatred and disappointment he'd felt towards himself as things with Elizabeth had careened towards the flames of failure, were suddenly burnt in a new conflagration of understanding. The naked truth, standing before him.

He dropped the sword and his hands flew over his clothing, removing it in record time.

Jack licked his lips and smiled at him. Hands on hips, Jack watched as Will stripped, hurriedly. Jack turned and padded towards the bed.

Will caught up with him and pushed him down onto it. As Jack sat down, hard, Will quickly seized his advantage and grabbed Jack's wrists, leaning into him and allowing his body to make full contact with Jack's.

Will gasped at the sensations; Jack's cock against his, their legs getting tangled, Jack's skin hot and satiny against his. "Oh God," he breathed, staring down into Jack's dark eyes.

Jack looked a little taken aback at Will's impetuous behavior. Will tightened. Obviously Jack had imagined he might take some control during this union of theirs.

Will grinned down at him. And said, "Let me. Please. Let me have this; have you."

Leaning down, he didn't wait for Jack to respond. He pressed his lips to Jack's, his curiosity at what it would feel like finally fled as he marveled at the softness, the warmth of it. And Jack's surprise at Will wanting this now was joined by Jack's eager tongue-tip, darting out to meet Will's lips, running along them. Will parted his lips instinctively, and then delved his own tongue into Jack's mouth. The warm, wet slick silky taste of his tongue, and then the curious taste of gold. Will breathed a moan against him.

Lifting his head, Will looked into Jack's face. Jack seemed a little taken-aback, but content.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Jack asked. And the tone of it didn't make Will feel like he was poking fun at him at all. As if he'd be more than willing to show Will the ropes...

Will smiled down at him. "Scarlet was most eager to give me instructions. And I paid her for the dress."

Jack was horrified. "You shouldn't have! Lad, that's poor form. Really. That was years ago, and I scarcely remember it. And it was Bill's idea in the first place. You didn't have to—" He was silenced by Will's mouth coming down on his, hard, demanding and hot.

Will didn't let up; he kept kissing Jack until finally Jack relaxed under him and responded properly. Fervently. Will kept going, until Jack gave a little moan against him. Pulling back again, Will whispered against him, "I've been dreaming about you. You've been in my head for more nights than I can count. Damn you, Jack Sparrow. Why you?!"

Jack grinned happily. "I have that effect on people."

With a growl, Will pressed into him, eliciting an intake of breath from Jack as he ground their middle sections together, cocks sliding against each other like the cross of two blades. "You're a pirate," Will informed him. "That's why."

"Aye," Jack agreed, all too eager to go along with Will's forced seduction. "And so are you, as it turns out." Will noticed though that Jack's breaths were coming shorter.

Tenderly, Will asked, "How long has it been since someone took care of you? Properly?"

Jack frowned a little. "Properly?"

"Properly," Will said, firmly, with another grind of his hips. He repeated the movement, finding it was most pleasurable, and seemed to make Jack happy too, considering the way Jack sucked in his breath and gulped.

And then Jack said, hoarsely, "Surprised you didn't drag the lass here with you."

Will frowned at this. He looked at Jack. "What do you mean?"

Jack smiled at him, knowingly. "Well, you come in here, threatening me and all fired up, fresh from her quim and expecting me to just give it up because you've decided you've taken a fancy to try out what your father had, eh? And there's your poor wife, missing out on what could have been a proper honeymoon. Should have brought her along, mate. Maybe then she wouldn't be all out of joint."

Will stared back at Jack. Infuriating, that's what he was. Will considered Jack's mouth, and bent once more to leisurely help himself. Jack seemed to have a weakness about being kissed. Properly. Will applied himself with dedication to exploiting it.

Jack was nearly panting, his eyes half-lidded by the time Will lifted his head once more. "I couldn't," he explained, catching his breath. "She said she wasn't going to share me with you. We'll have to avoid her, actually. She might try to shoot you."

Jack shook his head slightly. "Slap me, most likely. They always do."

"Yes, you do seem to have that effect on women."

Jack grinned. "Well, but you know what effect I have on men, too. Tell me, young Will, did you have any idea what you were doing when you drew your sword on me?"

Will narrowed his eyes. "Aye, Captain, I did. I still have a very good idea. Unfortunately, it requires your cooperation. I need my hands for this."

"And your mouth," Jack added, hopefully.

"Only if you promise to be quiet, and not say a word," Will warned him.

Jack looked surprised. "Seeing as this is your first time, I'll be as quiet as possible. Wouldn't want your concentration to suffer at an inopportune moment."

"No, we wouldn't want that," Will agreed, smiling. "And who says this is my first time?"

Will was rewarded with the very unexpected look of dark jealousy and possessiveness that entered Jack's face. He took mercy on Jack, kissing him once, then again, and said, "Scarlet was very happy to educate me. Said the price of the dress wasn't really as much as she'd made out, at first. I told her she could keep the balance. She insisted on making it up to me."

Jack groaned. "You're right. You'd better never set foot there again. They'll all want a turn with you. Will, just how much gold did you give the wench?!"

Will stared down at him. "I've been dreaming about kissing you."

"That's nice. How much gold, Will?"

Will chuckled and kissed him, then mouthed his way down Jack's throat, to his chest, moving over his nipples, then down to his belly, following the dark treasure trail lower, scooting down to get a better position for what he had in mind. Jack's silence was uncustomary, watching Will with a bit of what looked like awe, as well as expectancy.

Well he might, Will thought to himself. It wasn't every day that Will Turner decided to seduce a pirate captain at sword point, and then proceed to go down on him with abandon. But Will had already agonized over Jack for months, first in dreams and then in the rather heated exchanges with Elizabeth, and then for weeks, searching in Tortuga and then Petit Goave. He'd made his peace with his desire. He was just thanking his fortune that Jack would have him. The fact that Jack had been with Bootstrap Bill could very easily have been a deciding factor against, considering Jack might have not wanted him for that reason. Some sort of strange honor, or something. And abruptly, with a hard swallow, Will realized he was staring at Jack's cock.

Jack lay there, watching, and finally said, quietly, "Will..."

But Will was already decided upon it. He licked up the length of it, and was surprised at the clean, nearly salty taste. It was in fact less pungent than his previous encounters, and he decided he liked it. He mouthed around the stem, allowing his hands to nestle in the dark hair, before stroking down to fondle Jack's balls, while allowing one hand to go wandering, caressing Jack's inner thigh, the soft tender flesh there.

Musky, heady and hot, and Will breathed in, wanting more. He could stay here, buried in between Jack's legs... As a tremor ran through Jack, Will glanced up, and decided to go in for the kill. He licked lightly at the crown, just on the underside.

Jack gave a strangled whimper, and his hands were abruptly clutching at the blankets. With a smirk, Will continued to lash lightly at it, then encircled the head of Jack's cock, laving with his tongue before letting himself slide it into his mouth, down the length of it a few inches.

Jack had stiffened, and the most sensual noise Will had ever heard him make suddenly reached Will's ears, akin to a purr and a moan. Will began to slide up and down it, letting it nearly come free from his lips, then engulfing him again.

Jack's moans and whimpers were suddenly growing louder. He increased the suction and now reached up with one hand to grip Jack's cock firmly, while still handling his balls. Will almost smiled around the slender organ in his mouth, because he remembered all too well his own reaction as Scarlet had shown him what to do.

He'd recalled thinking at the time that Jack hadn't known what he'd been missing... and should have somehow arranged to kidnap Will on his way, or perhaps something like coming back for him, as he did in his dreams sometimes. But then of course Jack had had his father... With a little growl, Will couldn't help feeling strangely hot and angry. It wasn't fair. It wasn't just the legacy of his father's blood that Bootstrap Bill had left his son—it was this wickedly irksome and devilish pirate captain, too. But his father had been there first and abruptly, Will wondered, as he sucked Jack harder, whether or not Jack cared that it was Bill or his son.

Will wanted to wipe all traces of anyone else from Jack's body and claim him as his own. He was horrified to find that all the anxiety and distress he'd felt over losing Elizabeth because of his own misplaced and unnatural desires and dreams, longings to see Jack again that had haunted him, were replaced with this keen possessiveness. He wanted to own Jack. He wanted to pleasure him more than anyone else ever had.

Redoubling his efforts, Will was careful not to use his teeth, even accidentally. He wasn't sure he could attempt what Scarlet had showed him, about swallowing it down. But what he was doing so far seemed to be working, with Jack twitching and pulling uncontrollably.

He could feel Jack getting close, and then Jack's hoarse voice, "Will, you—I'm—"

With a lick upwards with the flat of his tongue, he ordered, "Come for me, Jack," and quickly sucked on the head of his cock once more.

With a keening whimper, Jack tensed, and then was crying out as he came, pulsing hotly into Will's mouth. Will was instantly struck by how different Jack tasted from his own; where he was salty and bitter, Jack was distantly tangy and—sweet. And Will realized with a little muffled grunt of a laugh—the rum. The damned rum. It probably flowed in Jack's veins in place of blood.

Eagerly, Will swallowed it all, licking continuously to get every drop.

Finally, Jack was panting, "Enough, Will, please. For now."

Will backed up, and fixed Jack with a stare. Almost challenging him. "How did I do?"

Jack stared back at him. Then flopped his head back and regarded the ceiling. "Bloody tart. Now I still owe her."

Will laughed quietly. And came up to rest beside Jack, his arm about him. Tucking in neatly against his right side, Will said to him, "You don't owe her. You owe me. And I owe my father. Are you sure it doesn't bother you?"

Jack considered this. "Well," he finally admitted, "it would only bother me if it bothered you, and so far, it doesn't appear to be bothering you very much at all."

Will was quiet at this. But he needed to say more. He needed to explain. "I tried to forget about you. But you stayed in my head. The more I pushed the memory of you from my mind, the more you came into my dreams. You came into our bed even as I slept. I had to go when she told me to, because I didn't want to hurt her anymore. But it doesn't mean that I have any claim on you."

Jack turned his head, opened an eye and peered at him. Then he kissed Will on the forehead. Then kissed him again, on the cheek. "Will, it's been a long time since anyone wanted to lay claim on me."

"I don't believe that," Will protested. "You're irresistible. I mean, your manner, your attitude. It practically screams 'have your way with me'."

"Eh?!" Jack stared at him. "You're sure you haven't been at the rum?" At Will's shake of his head, Jack explained, "Manner...my manner. It's too much sun, is all. And rum. Need it; for the sun, and to keep afloat between skirmishes."

Will chuckled. "Have it your way. Doesn't matter now, in any case. You're mine now."

"Am I, indeed?" Jack asked, curiously. "Has it occurred to you that in that case, you are also mine?"

"Naturally."

Jack grinned. "Then it's your turn. I believe I owe you for the marvelous performance you just gave." He made as if to get up.

Will stopped him, holding him in place. "I haven't finished showing you what I've learned."

Jack paused, then laughed. "I see. And you're eager to prove it to me all at once, are you? As quickly as possible? We're on shore leave. Don't expect the crew to be back for at least, oh, say, four days more."

"You'd be surprised how much I learned, and how long it will take for me to show you, Jack," Will informed him with a straight face.

Jack swallowed. "Will, you're going to be the death of me. But what a way to go."

"I'll show you," Will said, eager now. "Turn onto your belly." He got up. "I brought a little something with me. A gift from—well." He stopped, got up, and went to rustle through his garments. In his pocket, it was.

Jack lifted his head. "From whom?" he demanded, obviously curious. "You sure it was a gift, and she didn't lift your purse while she was at it?"

Will rolled his eyes. "It was from the madam of the house—a friend of Scarlet's. She said I'd behaved better than any gentleman they'd entertained in a long while. I suspect she wanted the repeat business if I was ever in town again."

Jack was shaking his head. "You are too trusting, and far too innocent. We're going to have to work that out of your system."

Will returned to the bed, and straddled Jack's legs, moving them apart and laying down atop him, enjoying the cushioning of Jack's pert ass against his belly. He ran a hand down Jack's back and up again. "My system appears to be working fine, so far. We can't all be piratical constantly. There are times and places to behave like a gentleman."

Jack's face was turned to the side, and he smiled. "This would appear to be an opportune time and place to prove it."

But Will was lost in the feeling of Jack's skin. His back was lighter than he'd expected, the skin going paler towards Jack's buttocks, and he lifted up and off of him to run a hand over them, then both hands over Jack's hips, down to his thighs.

Jack's sated sigh of satisfaction at Will's touch was music to his ears, and Will smiled, relishing the fact that he could reduce Jack Sparrow—The Captain Jack Sparrow—to the blissfully indolent state of a stroked cat. Still feral, perhaps, but feline most definitely.

"Mine," he said, in a low voice, allowing both hands to return to Jack's ass, cupping it, enjoying the way it caused a little rippling shudder from Jack. Will was surprised at how sensual Jack had turned out to be. He had assumed that it was part of Jack's act, but the sinuous and supple movements Jack possessed, whether in combat during swordplay, or swaying drunkenly on sea-legs or intoxicated, turned out to be quite part of his nature.

Will could no longer resist, and he bit at one pale, smooth buttock, enjoying the hissing intake of Jack's reaction. He mouthed at the tight flesh, and decided that he had delayed his own gratification long enough. He had to have this ass. Rationalizing his time with Scarlet as education in so many ways, he hadn't felt much guilt over the fact that he'd left Elizabeth not two months before. But there was such a sense of freedom in taking what he wanted, he realized that perhaps he really did have the pirate blood after all. Because he felt as though he was finally becoming a man, making his choices and living with the outcomes.

It was no longer about true love, he realized. A boyhood dream of the perfect match with a girl he romanticized from afar. It wasn't about a steady marriage and family where he worked to keep them for the rest of his life. It wasn't about drinking and wenching and throwing away his hours either.

It was about Jack, and what the pirate captain had meant to him, had come to mean to him. It was about manhood, and friendship, and blood, and honor, and the sea. And this ship.

As he anointed himself with the elixir that Scarlet's friend had given to him with a wink and an enlightening whisper in Will's ear, Will grinned, and said, "Lift up a little, Jack." As Jack complied, he applied some to Jack as well.

And then the smell of it hit Jack's nose, for Jack began to chuckle deep in his throat.

"I thought you might recognize it," Will said. "She said it never fails. She also said I probably didn't need it, actually."

Jack turned his face to the other side, so he could meet Will's eye. "It's good stuff. Stiffens your wood when you're lacking. One of the secrets of the Caribbee."

Will laughed, for it was made of bark, Bois Bande. Wood, indeed. He'd been intrigued. There was an unfamiliarly thick, hot and heavy sensation in his organ, and he realized it was really quite an amazing substance.

He licked his lips and parted Jack's cheeks, allowing his cock to slide between them, before coming to rest gently against the tight opening. The hidden dark hole gave slightly at the first nudge, and he was glad Jack had done this before, for he would have been afraid of hurting him. Still, he waited, giving Jack time to grow accustomed to it. Then pressed forward ever so slightly.

Jack moaned at this, and moved back to meet him, causing him to slip deeper into him. Tight, hot, silk on his cock, rippling him with the clutching heat of Jack's body, and he was abruptly, easily, sliding into Jack deeper and deeper, all the way up inside of him. Sheathed completely in him, Will didn't want to ever stop. He never wanted to be anywhere else. Like finding home. He'd found home. Forcing himself to remember to take breaths, Will waited, the muscles in his arm trembling as he stayed poised over him, then finally let himself relax, down onto his elbows, shifting a little to gain the most advantageous position.

Jack's hoarse whisper was strained. "Will, you don't have to hold back. You won't hurt. Just do it."

Will bit his lip. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. His head swam with the strangeness of knowing that this fierce fire hadn't swept through him with his wife and supposed true love, nor had it felt like this in his dreams, being only lingering glances, kisses of diffuse magic and promises conjured in images from his memory. It was real, and hot, and slick, and he wanted to stay buried in Jack forever. "You sure?"

"Hard, Will. Please," Jack said, the certainty and need in Jack's voice the only urging Will needed.

He pulled back a little and then surged forward, tight into that sweetness, taking him, taking Jack Sparrow, God—he wanted it—had wanted it—too long.

"Wanted you, oh Jack, wanted this so much," he whispered, desperately. He was horrified at the need in his own voice now, but he couldn't help that his tongue had loosened. Why should he guard his words? He was as close to Jack as he would ever be, and Jack wanted it. Wanted him. Him!

Jack was making little involuntary shoves back against him to meet his thrusts, and abruptly, Will felt like he was flying. Raising himself back up on his hands again, he let his hips snap forwards, and the movement carry him hard into Jack, pounding against his ass with the impetus of it, quicker and faster and deeper, the sharp shooting shocks of pleasure and wild abandon of it causing gasps and groans of delirium that he couldn't stop himself from making. No matter, for they mingled with Jack's cries as he writhed under Will's hard thrusts into him.

He could still taste the essence of Jack on his tongue, a little on his lips, and the smell of the woody oil mixed with the scent of their fresh sweat and the entire room was thick with sex and heat and candles and flashing pleasure and Jack's cries and his own.

Jack was trembling under him, and said, "Up, up a little, Will." Will complied, hastily, bringing them both to their knees, without leaving Jack's body, and resumed their motion, and this time, he held onto Jack for support and reached around a hand to grasp Jack's cock.

The feeling of being pressed all tight up against Jack, and with his hand on him, and fisting Jack while owning him, it all folded into place neatly like a silent scream and song, and it had the crash of waves with it and the creak of gulls, and a hard, rushing euphoria of slipping through water so blue and hard it was nearly white. White in his head, as he pushed into Jack again and again, sweet, sweet hot and white.

Driving into him, Will finally gave into it, and decided he had to let go. He had to come inside of him. To force it with every ounce of strength he had, to strain for the crest. Pleasure, too deep, and too wild, and seeming too fleeting, like trying to catch hold of a dream. With a few last surges along that silky, tight channel, Will exploded, a wild guttural groan forced out of his throat by the sheer, shocking sweetness of it, the reaching of that pinnacle, and he emptied himself into Jack, his, his his HIS. Jack was his. And he was Jack's.

The relief of it was overwhelming, to know it. To feel it. To claim it as his right, and to know that Jack let him. He sank down upon him, feeling the new sheen of dampness along Jack's skin as he rested on his back. Will closed his eyes, breathing hard.

He fluttered in and out of consciousness, and then everything was black.