"Over here!" Gibbs called, bending over the railing—a railing of which a large chunk was currently missing. "Will, he's over here in the water. Fetch a hook!" the quartermaster called to the crew.

Boots clomped over the deck, frantic staccato noises as the smith rushed over to the older man, seeing the sodden, unconscious-looking pirate clinging to that bit of railing. Without thinking, Will tipped himself effortlessly into the briny drink, feeling the sharp slap of the icy water as it sucked the heat from him—What must it have done to Jack?

He's fading... Save him!

Not bothering to sort out the origin of the voice, Will stroked over to the man, reaching down to grab Jack's waist as tattooed fingers started to slip in their grip on the wood. "Here, I've got you, come on now..." he murmured, shifting the pirate to hold him better. "Gibbs, throw me a rope!" he called, looking up at the ship.

He drifted, his body beyond chilled, well into numb by now. In his mind, Jack had retreated into the hottest place he could think of—that damn spit of land where Barbossa had marooned him twelve years before, nearly, without food or water. Between the beating sun and the copious quantities of rum, he'd developed quite a little inner furnace, something he'd managed to hang onto since. But it was extinguishing, fleeing in the face of such a large force as nature's winter cold, smothered by the waves of the Atlantic.

Always knew I'd die in the water. Kind of suspected Pearl and I'd go down together, though... she's got Will to look after her though, take care of her ... It actually called forth a smile somewhere in there. Pearl wouldn't be alone, after all, as he'd always feared.

"Don't you die on me, goddammit," Will snarled in the pirate's ear. She'll never forgive me if I let you die. Come on... she'll mope forever, and we won't be able to comfort each other. Fight it, dammit!" Everything was so cold around him, and he felt the splash of the rope a few feet to his left, head turning as he stroked over to it. He used it to first tie his own midsection, then Jack's, holding onto both it and the pirate. "Pull us up! I can't climb it!"

Something loud and bossy permeated Jack's fog, but he couldn't register what it was. He was barely able to make out something large and encompassing enfolding him, pulling, tugging, trying to pull him this way and that, fighting the angry embrace of the ocean. Since it was easier to grab and much less cold than the water, Jack elected to go with it instead, throwing his arms around whatever it was mightily; in reality, his fight against Poseidon consisted of nudging his cheek against Will's shoulder and lifting his left arm barely, weakly against the younger man.

Will nodded, chin tucked in. "Good. You're mine, the sea can't have you," he murmured, bracing himself for the yank. "You belong to Pearl and me, dammit... I'm not letting you go now." And then there was the pull, the sharp heave that made him hold onto Jack and the rope more tightly as he was flown up out of the water and swung around, and he had the presence of mind to bring his legs up, hitting the deck with his ass.

"Mr. Gibbs, not to overstep my authority here," Will panted as he worked to untying the two of them, "but may I suggest we make for the nearest friendly port where we can get out lady repaired?" He scooped up the pirate, cradling him to the forge-honed chest. "I'll take care of Jack... I'm going to need a good, hearty meal brought down when Maxi gets the galley cleaned up, and some rum." Dripping wet, eyes bright but hard, Will Turner exuded authority as he looked up at Gibbs, waiting for the man's nod of confirmation.

Boots squelching, spine unyielding, Will strode over to the stairwell, heading for the captain's cabin, intending to get some heat back into the chilled form. See, I got him, Pearl... I'll keep him, even though he doesn't want me... I'll keep him for you.

Wind buffeted Jack's chilled body, and he shivered uncontrollably, the numbness not extending that far after all. He couldn't open his eyes; too cold. The wind would freeze his eyeballs right in their sockets if he so much as tried. He clutched at whatever, or whoever it was that seemed to be ferrying him about, blocking the harsh wind on that side. His forehead buried into a warm crevice, unaware it was Will's neck, and he managed to move his frozen, dried lips just enough to murmur something unintelligible, most likely an order to Pearl through the waves, to keep this same fate from befalling Will, to keep him safe for many more years.

Will slipped belowdecks with a surety as the large man and slim, black woman began ordering the crew to their tasks, cleaning up and preparing to head for somewhere to effect repairs. He knew he should be up there checking the logbooks in Jack's place, since the captain was unavailable, but in truth, that's what Anamaria was there for. Let her do her job as first mate for once, Will, he scolded himself.

The wind died as soon as they hit the quarterdeck, and the air was a bit warmer, if still damp. Will had snuffed his forge at the first sign of bad weather, so he couldn't take the man into the hold to warm him, and the chances of finding a hot water bottle were nil. The young man sighed, kicking open the door to Jack's cabin and hauling him inside, catching the edge with his heel after he'd passed, sliding it back into its place in the jamb.

"There's only one good way to get this chill out of your bones," the young man murmured, sitting Jack on one of the chairs and taking the task of undoing the thick, wet layers of clothing, layers that nearly dragged the man under. "But what you'll think of me afterwards, I don't know..."

He still didn't want to open his eyes, but somewhere in his groggy mind it registered that the wind was no longer buffeting him, chilling him; now it was just the air in the room, which was cold enough. He trembled—not lightly like a barely-blown leaf, but roughly, like a rickety building being tested by a hurricane wind. Jack thought he felt something on him, brushing, thought he heard a familiar voice, but decided it was all in his head, much the same way Pearl "spoke" to him.

Must be what happens when you die. The people you're going to miss most, they start filling your head with sounds, words ... except I thought it should be clearer than this, whether it be hell or heaven, that I'd understand the words better. Oh, maybe that's what hell is ....

Will noticed the racking shiver that shook the captain's body, and he frowned, hands moving, peeling the sodden, sticky layers of clothing off the man, reaching over for a thick towel to wrap about the man's head, to stop the loss of warmth from that area, snatching the headscarf off and sending it with the man's other clothing with a thick thwap. Securing the towel, he finished peeling the shirt off the bronzed flesh, and then knelt to get the captain's boots off, then socks. "Okay, Jack, I need to have you stand up... can't get your breeches off when you're sitting..." He pulled the pirate up so that the man was leaning against him, and reached down to undo the waterlogged laces, ears turning pink at the thought of what he was doing. Doing it to save Jack's life, Will reminded himself.

He carefully worked the material over the smaller man's hips, then reclined the man on the chair again to pull them completely off before leaning down to pick the dark-eyed man back up. "Come on, now, into the bed you go," he hummed, more to himself than Jack, getting the pirate settled, pulling the blankets up over Jack's shivering form.

Dry ... warmer. But still chilled. Jack huddled into the blankets, pulled his knees up and curled in on himself, trying to get as much of his skin to touch as possible. His hands weakly rubbed at his knees and legs, he bent his face into the pillow, pulling the linens more tightly around him, but still his body shivered, unable to draw heat from the bloodless material and unable to gain any back that might normally refract from his own form. "C-Cold," he managed to murmur, the only coherent word he could manage. Quietly, he sighed, turning onto his stomach, curling around a pillow, wondering if changing his position would somehow enable him to leach more warmth from material that had none to give.

"Shhh," Will soothed, struggling out of his own shirt, looking up at a knock at the door. He moved over, opened it to see the cook himself wearing a worried expression and bearing a bowl of fruit.

"Fix him up, you hear?" Maxi ground out, an order, not a plea. "Fix him up good before she decides to go down with him."

Will nodded and accepted the tray with one hand and the bottles with the other. "I'll do my best," he replied with a slight nod, looking the tall man directly in the eye. "When things get cleaned up, Jack's going to need a good meal."

"Aye, see that y' do, an' I'll do my best." With that, the man turned on his heel, shutting the door behind him.

Will moved back over to the bed, setting the bowl nearby, tucking the bottles in between mattress and hull, and proceeded to peel his own salt-sticky clothing off himself. He shook out his hair, then climbed very carefully over Jack, settling himself between the wall and the man, lifting the covers to slide under them, coming to curl around the frozen pirate. A couple swallows of rum will warm me, but it's not good for him just yet, I don't think...

Movement. Shifting. And then something ... warm? Instinctively, Jack withdrew from the strange source of heat, then caught a whiff of whatever it was. The scent was familiar; it immediately pierced his brain. That was Will's scent—soap, coalfire, pitch, sweat, and something Jack had never been quite able to define, that nonetheless smelled edible. He knew Will wouldn't be here with him, not in bed—he'd finally ascertained that's where he was at least—but anything that smelled that much like Will had to be trustworthy.

Slowly, painfully, Jack rotated himself again to face the source of heat, and scooted toward it, into it. His nose and forehead pressed into something velvety and slightly cool, but with an underlying warmth, and the rest of his body followed suit, his limbs attaching to the person in bed with him as he stretched out against whoever it was. Sure smells like Will, he thought, rubbing his nose into a shallow depression (the clavicle, though he couldn't have told that at the time) and sighing in relief. Warmth, finally.

It was odd, holding onto Jack like this, cuddling skin against skin, letting Jack curl around him to suck out his warmth. The smith reached over to take a couple swallows of the drink, feeling the burn on the way down. He closed his eyes, wincing at the sting of it, before plugging the cork and putting it back. Scanning the bowl, his eyes alit on an orange, and he reached up for it, stretching and sliding his skin against the pirate's, pulling the fruit back to him, along with another piece of cloth to catch any juice.

Drawing one of Jack's many ever-present, hidden daggers from between the goosefeather mattress and the hull of the ship, he sectioned the fruit into wedges, picking up one and tucking into it. Clearing it out, he set the rind down, picking up another, this time trailing it over the pirate's lips. "Come on, Jack... it's okay. See, it's good. Just open up for me a little bit, drink some of the juice, please..."

Something wet and sticky brushed his lips. Jack parted them, sticking tongue out experimentally to see what it was, and drew it back, tasting citrus of some sort. Sweet, light. He opened his mouth again, feeling it being pressed inward against his teeth, and deciding it wasn't something harmful, he took a small sip of it. The sip quickly turned into a small bite, then into a series of nibbles, and when it was gone, his tongue curled around small, warm orbs littered with the sticky juice, cleaning them. These weren't edible, his brain informed him, but they did taste solid and good nonetheless. Fingers ... I could swear they're fingers. And that voice ...

Will smiled at Jack's eager assent to the fruit, pulling out another slice after the pirate had cleaned him like a cat, holding up the wedge. "Come on, that was very good... can you do it again for me, please, Jack? It was good, wasn't it?" Will's head tipped back a bit as he studied the slowly-warming man beside him, his own lips parting a bit. Pearl... talk to him... help me...

By now, Jack's hearing was returning to a semblance of normal, and he recognized Will's voice—except that it couldn't be William. Will had never talked to him like that, had never used that tone of voice. He sounded worried, soothing, cajoling all at once—come to think of it, nobody had used that voice on Jack Sparrow in a very long time. It was doubtful anyone outside of his own mother or grandmother had employed such a tone.

When the second piece of orange—he could tell what it was now, and was relieved some of his senses seemed to be returning—was finished, he once again nibbled at the fingers that held it, bringing his own hand up to hold them in place as his tongue traced the curves and crevices of the digits. He wasn't sure exactly of what he was doing, just yet, but the scent and the taste, the warmth, all conspired to overwhelm him.

That's it, Jack—taste him. I sent him over after you, you know. But it was his idea to pull you back on board, climb into bed with you, warm you with himself. We don't want you gone, Jack ... me nor him.

Will's eyes fluttered shut at the touch of lips on his fingers, the soft brush of Jack's tongue causing his breath to hitch. No, no, don't do that, not now... stupid... Think of something horrible. Disgusting. Barbossa. Undead pirates... That glop that Francois would serve at the tavern whenever Scarlet wasn't there to make it herself... Willing away his awakening interest was a bit difficult with Jack suckling on his fingers like a hungry pup—Hungry, that's it! Will carefully drew his fingers away from the eager mouth, discarding the rind and picking up another wedge. "Here, this is what you're looking for, I'll bet," he hummed with a lopsided grin.

This time, Jack sucked his way through the fruit slice in record time, capturing the fingers before Will could pull away again. He tastes so good, Jack inwardly moaned, projecting to his ship. Why does he taste so good and I can't have any?

You can ... just be patient.

Don't want to be patient ... want him ... Jack stopped nibbling and pulled back, tilting his chin up and sliding his head on the pillow so that he was looking up into Will's face. He still held the side of the younger man's damp hand between his own fingers. Questions swirled through his mind, all beginning with Why? It seemed a bit too clueless, so instead, Jack opened his mouth to speak—and only a whisper came out. Still, for him, what a whisper ... "You tas' wonderful," he slurred.

"Oranges are good, aren't they?" Will returned in the same soft tone, smiling down at the older man. "Feeling warmer?"

Closing his eyes, Jack lowered his cheek to Will's chest and savoured the sensation of the smith's skin against his. The hand clutching Will's brought it between them, pressing Will's palm to Jack's sternum. "I am now," the pirate murmured sleepily.


***


Will woke a few hours later to the sensation of skin squirming against his own. He hadn't been aware of closing his eyes, but now he was brought to consciousness full force as Jack shifted in his sleep against Will, one leg thrown over the smith's hip, murmuring to himself. Will was unable to catch exactly what the older man was saying, but the sensation of the man's sleep-induced tumescence brushing over his own skin was enough to make his body respond. Pearl, Pearl, make hi m stop before he does something he'll be mad at himself for.

Something he'll be mad at himself for ... or something you'll regret doing yourself? came the cryptic response, sounding a bit too full of gaiety for a ship worried just scant hours previously about her master's continued existence.

Will scowled at the ship. Don't say things like that, or I won't repair you any more, he half-threatened, knowing the lie even as it flitted through his head. His only response was a soft, creaking chuckle and a gentle sway, enough to wake the pirate who lay sleeping in the young smith's arms.

Yawning, Jack stretched his way into wakefulness, feeling no imminent danger nor need to come fully alert to fight off invaders, military or pirate. Skin rubbed deliciously against skin, and he snuggled against the body warming his bed before he was fully conscious, murmuring. "Will, mmm ..."

"What is it, Jack?" Will murmured against the man's temple, willing himself to not move, hoping Jack wouldn't notice his body's state of wakefulness.

The captain stiffened, then drew away enough to look up at his bedfellow. Will watched him with wide eyes filled with concern and ... fear? His dark hair fluffed around his ears, curling down into the dip of his throat. Jack let his eyes drop to the man's bare shoulders and chest, where he'd been nestled safely for the past—well, however long he'd been asleep.

Jack let his head fall sideways on the pillow and a wry smile touched his chapped lips as he licked at them a bit to banish the sudden aridity. "Bet you wish you's anywhere but 'ere, eh?" he ventured.

No, not really. Your bed's really quite comfortable." Especially with you in it and curled around me. "And I couldn't just let you shiver like that... Didn't know if you'd be warm enough, even with all the blankets. After all, coals can't kindle themselves."

Cautiously, Jack reached up and touched Will's cheek, letting his fingertips trace down to the man's jawline. With equal care, he lifted himself off the bed a bit and leaned over to brush a light kiss against the skin his fingers ghosted. "Thank you," he whispered, lingering, pulling back. He didn't dare allow himself more; they were already in contact to such an extent Jack was beginning to feel its effects, and he didn't want to scare Will away.

Will's tongue flicked out to touch his lower lip as his hand reached up to caress the flesh where Jack's lips had just been, wide, amber-flecked eyes regarding the captain. "Soft," was all he could murmur. His brain was starting to drown in sensation, the scrape of the blanket over his hip, the warm, spicy scent of Jack filling his nostrils, the soft stick of flesh against flesh as Jack moved slightly, the firm presence of the mattress under him, and the sight of Jack's large, almost completely black eyes regarding him in the lamplight.

It was impossible to ignore Will's state of arousal in the small bed, the way his eyes were fixing hungrily on Jack's, touching, almost physically probing. As if in slow motion, Jack moved his hand to Will's chest, covering his heartbeat, feeling it speed up beneath his fingers. "D' you like it when I touch you, love?" he murmured in a gravelly whisper, never removing his eyes from those beautiful dark ones.

Will found himself unable to speak; his throat was sealed shut. He honestly felt lucky to be able to breathe. He answered with a slow nod, slight hesitation in his eyes, but more longing than fear. He wanted Jack, he truly did. It wasn't fair that he should be so close to something he, in all reality, shouldn't be able to have. Jack's fingers burned against the skin of his chest, and he couldn't ignore the hammering of his heart under those firebrand fingers.

In one smooth movement, Jack slid closer as his hand came up to thread into Will's hair. "It's so sof'," he marvelled, absently stroke-pulling the long gold-kissed locks. Though he couldn't ignore the way the smith's body made his feel, right now he was more interested in those earthy, soulful eyes, those parted lips. "Pearl says you saved me life," he rumbled thickly. "Says you jumped right in an' didn' even look when ye did."

Will leaned into the touch of Jack's hand on his scalp, eyelids fluttering before opening fully to regard the man in front of him, to absorb the import of his words. He nodded, swallowing to clear the block at his throat. "Wasn't going to let you die on me," he responded shakily. "She told me, said you were gone... I was frightened, and I went after you."

His lips curved into a smile. "She talked t' you 'gain?"

"Screamed, more like it," he replied. "She was crying."

"She did try like 'ell t' hang on t' me when I wen' over, now tha' I think 'bout it," he recalled. "I was too busy tellin' 'er t' keep you 'board, not let you fall in like tha'."

"Don't want to lose you, neither her nor... She'd scupper herself if you ever left her again, you know." Will tossed his head a bit to get his bangs out of his eyes, looking over into Jack's deep orbs, his body responding to Jack's, pulses speeding up to match beats.

"Not if she still had you, Will." Jack pressed closer, feeling his own heartbeat increase, the nerves in the pit of his stomach rattling fiercely. No conquest, this. "We're all a part o' 'er now, don' you feel it? You, me, Pearl ... all three o' us tied together. She's adopted ye, taken ye in. Protect an' love ye much as she's able, she will."

Taking Jack's proximity as a cue, he hesitantly brought an arm up and around the man, cupping the pirate's hip before sliding around to drape at the wrist, curling fingers lightly brushing the small of his back. "Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly, watching depthless eyes warily, waiting for the trap to be sprung.

"Pearl ne'er lies." With that, Jack hedged the distance between their mouths and captured Will's with his lips. The first sensation was too sharp, too strong; he backed off a bit, flicked his eyes up in surprise at the younger man's, then bridged the gap again with a deeper kiss.

Lightning bolts and hot magma shot and flowed through the man at the touch of his captain's lips against his. When Jack pulled away, he wanted to whimper, instead only meeting shocked eyes a moment before the older man leaned in to make the contact again. His mouth opened without thought to Jack's, feeling the heat of the man's breath entering his mouth.

All thoughts of his beloved ship fled Jack's mind when Will returned his kiss, and their bodies shifted into an even more intimate embrace. Covers rustled, throats moaned; Jack's lips parted from Will's only to ghost up and brush the man's eyelids, nuzzling the long eyelashes. "We both love you," he whispered.

"I love you both," Will groaned back, pressing against the other man, turning his head to kiss and nibble at the pirate's neck, suckling at the soft flesh, feeling it roll and slip under his mouth. The hand that was on the pirate's hip slid up the bronzed back, kneading the muscle as he concentrated on absorbing the thick spice that was Jack, the coquettish masculinity that made up the man he wanted more than anything.

Jack's lips slipped to Will's chin, then his throat, as his hand stroked his long torso, massaging the tight muscles of his back as he moved along its length, resting at the juncture of hip to buttock. As his knobby fingers kneaded at the bunched flesh, Jack's mouth eased along Will's chest, pausing to kiss, then nip, at the closest nipple. "Didn' think you wanted this, too," he murmured, drawing away a bit and tossing his locks before resuming his licking and blowing of the sensitised flesh. His fingers skated around to dip into Will's inner thigh, brushing the edge of coarse, thick hair, and he marvelled at the warmth the man must've soaked up from years at his forge—warmth that had saved his life this very day.

Will hissed an indrawn breath as Jack worked over his sensitive skin, soft gasps leaving him as that hot mouth licked and nibbled over the as to this point untouched flesh, alien sensations zinging across him as his mind was slowly engulfed in flame. He managed to gasp Jack's name as those knobby fingers curled around his inner thigh, awfully close to someplace else he would really like that warm hand to be.

Jack closed his eyes, letting touch guide his exploration of the beloved in his bed. With his body, he guided the younger man to his back, Will's head pillowed on dark, slightly-damp curls, cheeks flushed from exertion, lips parted on quick breaths, eyes watching Jack intently, holding his own dark gaze. Jack lowered himself supinely along Will, one knee balanced to the outside of a slender blacksmith's hip, the other nudging those knees apart. He lined them up as he rotated his hips slowly, grinding gently into Will's pelvis, the brush of skin on skin stealing Jack's own breath away. He reached out and pulled one of Will's hands to his back, then did the same with the other. "Play wit' me, love," he murmured thickly. "Touch me."

Will flexed his fingers on the older man's flesh, rolling it for a bit before skating his palms up the expanse of the easily-felt ribcage, trying to not concentrate on the delicious new sensations rolling around his shaft. He brought his hands under Jack's arms to the chest, skating and clutching, trying to remember what Jack had done to him minutes earlier. Never taking his eyes off the pirate's face, he slid his palms to the hardened nubs crowning tense pectorals, rolling them between his fingers, hearing Jack hiss and moan as he played with the man's flesh, hands eventually moving away to check for other, not so obvious sensitive spots, thumbs dipping into the navel, his hands almost able to encompass the man's waist, but not quite... Will didn't have to worry about breaking the man above him, knew that Jack, despite his appearance, would always be able to handle whatever level of passion Will put out.

Closing his eyes, Jack let his head fall back, on all fours above Will, his back arched inward. His lips parted on a sinful groan as Will played with him, first over his hips and backside, then down between his thighs, clutching his erection. "I want you," he growled, lips twitching beneath his thick moustache. "Wanted you too long, Will..."

"I-I'm right here, Jack," Will noised, breath sucking in as he bumped his own tumescence by accident, his hand gently encircling the pirate's hot, velvet shaft as the other reached down to cup the heavy sac beneath, carefully rolling the contents, eyes flicking between his work and the man's face. "I'm not going to go anywhere, especially not now." Ignoring his own straining desire, he concentrated on Jack with the same level of intensity he gave to his forge, mocha eyes glowing as he caressed his discoveries, wanting to bring a level of pleasure to the man, even though he knew precious little of what was to go on.

With great effort, Jack pulled away from Will's lovely, large hands, swaying his hips back and sitting up and back on his heels. His black eyes roamed Will's body, thinking he'd just spent the last several hours pressed against it without so much as a twitch—if that wasn't restraint, and if restraint wasn't true love, he didn't know what was.

Tossing his dark locks all over to one shoulder, Jack stretched back and knelt before the smith, cupping the flat of his hand and splayed fingers around the base of the man's shaft, kneading like a cat. His lips enveloped the tip, applying gentle suction, pure heat entering his ears on the sounds Will made. Jack wondered if anyone else had ever touched him like this and decided he didn't care—nobody else ever would, and nobody had done it quite like Jack intended to, anyway.

Will couldn't figure out what had happened for a moment—one second, he was contentedly rolling the pirate around in his hands, and the next, he was being consumed by the slickest, most intense heat he'd ever imagined. He was having a hard time comprehending how someone who had been at risk of dying hypothermia not a day before could come back with his own flame blazing so brightly so soon. He wasn't sure if he'd made noise or not, and supposed it didn't matter as the older man expertly worked his untried flesh with fingers and lips, and Will's aural appreciation flowed like water from his mouth, one hand coming to rest lightly on Jack's head, not pushing, just a confirmation that he was, in fact, there.

He swirled his tongue around the shaft like sucking candy, letting the edges of small teeth tenderly graze the soft skin sliding along the hard muscle beneath. His lips closed, tugging at the head, and he felt Will's fingers tighten in his thick hair, wanting to scrunch, grab, but too much of a gentleman to do so. Grinning, Jack parted his lips, relaxed his jaws, and deep-throated the younger man, suckling the flesh tightly from base to tip, then repeating the motion.

Finally, it happened—the gentleman disappeared and Will, hot and needy and unable to hold still, emerged. His hips twisted and bucked, his body lifted off the bed, his fingers did indeed tighten, and the loveliest of shouts was called forth from that long throat, deep inside where pleasure began. Jack kept at him for a few minutes, immensely pleased at his own handiwork, watching his reaction, before sliding both hands beneath the man's ass and concentrating on the head, sucking and tugging, until Will was drained, literally and figuratively.

Jack dropped his head, breathing heavily, and calmed himself a moment by kissing the inside of a lean thigh, then nuzzling the spot with the side of his nose. "Thought you'd like tha'," he murmured.

Will gasped a moment, unable to believe what had just happened. The few times he'd ever tried to take himself in hand for just that kind of thing had always been lackluster—small physical release that allowed him to get back to his work at the forge, to pour his heat and frustration into the metallic works of art he had always fashioned. This... that had been something he'd never experienced in his entire time upon the earth—if he hadn't been on board a ship, he would have sworn that the ground under him had caved in at that point. The smith reached down, scrabbling for a handhold until he could encourage the older man to drape his bronzed form over the younger man's quivering body. "Wha... what was that?" he asked breathlessly, unable to focus.

"What I plan t' do to you as often as possible for th' rest of our lives." Jack nuzzled the smith's throat, suddenly, oddly shy; he had no guarantee Will would be interested in him beyond the next week or two, but he knew whatever happened, he would love the man as long as he could.

"The rest of..." Will looked down at the pirate. "Hadn't we better start looking for that fountain of youth that deLeon is after? Hog it for ourselves?" He heaved a sigh, bringing his arms up to wrap around the older man. "Don't ever want to give you up."

He chuckled throatily. "We're a bit south o' where we need t' be, mate."

"Oh," Will pouted, then cuddled closer. "The rest of our lives... Promise? this isn't just some sort of payment for hauling you up, is it?" he asked as a small spike of fear shot through his heart.

Jack pulled himself away, and up, facing Will head-on. "No, o' course not," he shook his head slightly. "I promise, on pain o' death, that you're stuck wit' me an' no bonny lasses for th' rest o' one of our natural lives."

The young smith smiled up at the pirate. "We have an accord, then," he noised with a smile, noting how Jack's position pushed him rather obviously into Will's flesh. "Does this mean I'm able to help you with that?" Will asked with raised eyebrow.

"Means you're sort o' obligated to, love." He grinned insouciently, settling himself on Will's shoulder, curling into the younger man and turning his body sideways for easy access.

Will's hands took up the slick shaft and pumped it slowly, leisurely, eyes riveted on Jack's face as he worked, trying to gauge what worked best for the man. He used Jack's tics and moans as a guide on when to speed up, when to change the angle, and when to slow down, prolonging the man's agony.

"Will, love, don' think's bes' idea, tormentin' yer commandin' off'cer, d'you?"

The young smith merely smiled at the captain's words and pressed his fingers together under the engorged head, searching for two small bundles of nerves and rolling them together firmly as his other hand gently squeezed and slid over the sides. His eyes hungrily drank in Jack's surprised expression, the mouth drawn up into a small "o" right before his hips lifted and the dam broke, the pirate's eyes closing as his chin tipped back, spilling himself into the smith's hand, spattering the other man's stomach with his stickiness.

When the kohl parted to show the onyx which stared somewhat accusingly at the young man, Will merely shrugged. "Good?" he asked with a grin.

Jack licked his lips, trying to regain his voice. "An' ye say you've not done this before?" he asked, scratchily, not really complaining.

"Not to anyone else," Will replied, looking up at Jack through his golden eyelashes, the soft light filtering through the porthole catching and skipping on their soft lengths

Reaching up to smooth back some of the smith's hair, Jack murmured, "Yourself?"

"Wasn't anything like this, though."

"Tha's 'cause it weren' us, mate." Jack leaned in and kissed his lover. "Never be as good as 'tis 'tween th' two o' us."

Will opened easily to the kiss, letting Jack entice him to fight back in the kiss, learning how to give and take during the emotional interchange expressed through their physical forms. When they backed off for air, Will curled his fingers around Jack's hip, turning them under a bit, sliding blunt nails over the flesh. "All mine," he mused quietly.

"All yours," Jack agreed adoringly, allowing himself to soften a bit in here, where nobody else could see.

Will nodded. "All mine... All yours," he sighed back in contentment. "I rather like this arrangement... and your bed. Why's your bed so much more comfortable than mine?

"I'm the captain, that's why," Jack retorted with a chuckle, feeling Will snuggle against him, pillowing that sun-kissed head against his shoulder, calloused fingers reaching up to trace Jack's scars.

"I might just move in and force you to share it," Will half-threatened, half-promised.

"Good. Then I'll never have to go far to look for you." Jack's smile became a yawn, and he felt as well as heard Will's deep intake of breath. "Stay with me?" the pirate offered.

Will closed his eyes, smiling. "Long as you like."