It was not long off midnight on a cloying summer evening in the Palazzo Delle Stordito. Dark, floor-length cloaks in deep burgundy, dark emerald, midnight blue and black swished and swayed, each one crowned with a mask and swathed with deep hoods, and they were magnified into a melee of rushing shapes by the gilt-edged mirrors. The disguises were complete, covering the wearer from head to foot with deliciously liberating secrecy. Each to the other they moved, bowing, curtseying, and changing partners in time with the sweet music. The clack and scrape of heel and toe added a rhythmic percussion to the lively beat, joined by the delicate tinkle of glasses clinking as more champagne was poured, and found its way into the mouth slits of the masks through silver straws. The whoosh and skirr as velvet brushed against velvet around the candlelit ballroom was a soft, constant susurration in the background. Overhead, the light fragmented through the glittering facets of each glass droplet swinging from the chandeliers, dropping sparkling shards onto every surface. Outside, the faint, occasional cry of a gondolier could be heard, punctuated by a louder giggle and shriek from the painted girls and boys plying trade along the edge of the Riva Schiavoni. From there, the warm, dark waters of the Bacino di San Marco stretched until they mingled with the Adriatic, as the murk and mire of Venice thought to wash its sins clean in the open ocean.

Water finds it own level, so they say.

One figure swished through the open doors from the balcony, drawing a giggling, stouter figure along with it, before whirling away to another dancer, hands out at the ready to grasp at the next set of fingers, and to grip at the new partner's hip. Even disguised, the black-clad figure was unmistakable, standing out from the other Venetian masks by virtue of a preening layer of feathers. Layer upon layer of peacock eyes fanned over the mask's surface, glinting and romancing and disarming all that came within the sphere of its wearer. Each dance partner was charmed most of all by the real eyes glinting out at them, almost black, framed by dark lashes that fluttered as prettily as the viridian and cobalt fronds around the deep centre of each feather on the mask. None of them noticed a little telltale 'clink', as their elegant partner moved away, depositing valuables into pockets hidden inside his cloak with the subtle hands of a magician. Or, more truthfully, a pirate.

Across the other side of the room, anyone that had glanced towards a tall, slender figure wearing a burnished gold mask and deep plum cloak and leaning against a wall, might have seen the large brown eyes revealed by the eyeholes crinkling with a smile as they watched and saw what no other in the room could see.

The subject of the figure's gaze turned abruptly to meet the level eyes staring at him, as though aware he was being looked at, and glanced towards the large ormolu clock on a nearby mantelpiece. He discarded his latest conquest into the arms of another and stepped gracefully towards the wearer of the golden mask in time with the music, hand extended in an invitation to dance.

The plum cloak shimmered and shifted as the figure uncrossed his arms and took the proffered hand, shoulders quivering very slightly with a chuckle as the peacock mask turned to him, and one eye batted shut in a wink. They both bowed slightly, Even if their height and bearing had not given it away, the fingers that met and clasped together, although slender, unmistakably belonged to men's hands. But the aristocracy cared little about trifles like that. This wasn't the only pair of twin-gendered hands grasped together that evening. The mouth of the golden mask brushed close to the feathered edge of the disguise where the curve of his partner's ear was bare. The delicate fronds fluttered in the warn rush of air that whispered,

"Good pickings, Jack Magpie?"

A low chuckle, as they leaned back and their eyes locked for a moment, before pressing close again and whirling, gliding on hidden feet between the other figures.

"Tush! Do I know you, Wagtail?" came the highly amused reply, muffled from behind the feathers. "We aint' been formally introduced for you to be so familiar. And maybe I should lend you some of these eyes so you can see I'm a peacock. Argus, the many-eyed. Not in fact the same bloke who built Jason's ship, but I'm quite happy to pretend there's a tenuous classical precedent between birds and boats long before I sailed the seas."

"I wish I hadn't asked. And what did you just call me?"

"Wagtail, seein' as you seemed so keen on the bird jokes."

"And what... now I know this is difficult for you... what exactly do you mean by that?" Chest brushed chest briefly, and each had the automatic image of the skin that lay beneath the other's costume, bronze curves and planes and nipples that demanded to be kissed.

"Willy Wagtail. Little black and white birds, that... well, wag their tails from side to side. Not so charmin'ly as you do, though," Jack said, sliding his hands under the cloak and down Will's spine to rest on his swaying backside, giving him a quick squeeze. The eyes under the gleaming gold mask rolled heavenwards.

"Ah. You weren't calling me a harlot, then."

Jack's eyes widened to create two black pools behind the almond-shaped holes.

"William," came the affronted gasp, "would I ever use the slippery nature of our mother tongue to equivocate and insinuate simultaneously that you are blessed in both the bottom and bedroom departments? Anyway, harlots don't do too well if they only have one john. Or one Jack, for that matter."

Under the mask, Will grinned.

"I think you've got more than enough gold and jewels about your person to buy me several times over, if I was remotely interested in something as common as those."

"Ah, and what could you be bought for?" Jack whispered, fingers tightening as he spun Will round, twirling him away then pulling him into his arms again.

"Never bought. Only given freely. But I think my favour might be tempted by one particular treasure."

"What would that be, I wonder?"

Will saw the faint, familiar glint of gold from Jack again, this time glittering out of the dark slit which showed his teeth as he smiled. Will narrowed his eyes playfully and continued the game, guiding Jack with each turn closer to the edge of the dancefloor.

"Ahh. It's unique. And needless to say, highly valued. Almost impossible to access, unless you know the right things to do, and the right words to say. I've actually been told only one man has ever had the privilege of possessing it. Other than you, of course, since you're its custodian."

"An' you have the audacity to accuse me of talkin' in riddles," Jack mocked, followed by a soft, 'Ooh,' as Will dipped him backwards, one hand cupping the back of Jack's head to keep the hood in place.

As Will righted him again, he drew Jack close, lifting their twined fingers and pressing them to Jack's chest, his hand over Jack's. For a second, they didn't move, and Jack's other hand came up and rested on Will's sternum briefly as though to steady himself, while the rest of the room swayed and spun around them.

Will gazed at Jack steadily, his eyes molten, and he leaned in, searing Jack with the heated words.

"I believe this..." Here, Will's hand slipped under Jack's and his fingertips dug gently into the flesh of Jack's chest, the blood racing madly as Jack's heart-rate picked up under Will's palm. Will leaned closer, his other hand coming up to run a lazy thumb over the feathers covering the carapace over Jack's cheek.

"This is my price."

A hot jolt of electricity snaked through Jack's stomach, and he shook himself slightly to regain some composure, and to keep himself from dragging Will to the floor right then and there in front of everyone. He took a breath, feeling the prickle under the stifling mask as a bead of sweat trickled from his temple and ran down the side of his neck. Half of him would have surrendered straight away, but his capricious side wanted to keep playing the game of push and pull.

"It's almost midnight. Time for a few more trinkets to be liberated before our departure?" he said, drawing away from Will slightly, feathers fluttering as he cocked his head to the side enquiringly, teasing, testing Will to the limit.

"Oh no," Will rumbled, pulling Jack back again into his arms possessively. "I think you're dance card is filled for the rest of the evening, as well as your pockets."

Jack chuckled, capitulating, and grinding his hips against Will's, giving him a look that was all dark desire and black heat. He didn't need to see Will's eyebrows under the mask to know that right now one of them was formed into a lovelier arch than any that could be found in the Doge's palace.

"So, is that one of those solid silver candlesticks from the dining room you've got shoved down your breeches, then, hmm?"

"Nope. Just my orb and sceptre, darlin'."

"Huh. Ave Regina."

Will saw the tip of Jack's tongue appear through the tiny slit at the mouth of the mask, and chuckled.

"While you've been relieving the rich of their burden of wealth, as you like to put it, I've been busy too."

"Have you now..." Jack said, guessing what was on Will's mind and annoyed beyond anything that they hadn't thought to bring any oil with them.

"Mmhmm."

"Doin' what?"

"Finding suitable places to come, then go. This one, in particular."

Jack suddenly found himself being whirled away from the other dancers, past a marble table and through a set of the deep red drapes that surrounded the room. Instead of immediately encountering one of the tall windows, he found himself in a deep, semi-circular recess flanked by two pillars supporting an archway, and completely concealed by the heavy curtains. A small, Romanesque window looked out onto the water below. Will had managed to find one of those odd little half-turret promontories stuck on the sides of buildings that Italians somehow seemed to find so appealing. Jack reminded himself to be thankful for architectural idiosyncrasies, no matter how preposterous they might look, and also for lustily single-minded piratesmiths with appetites as insatiable as his own.

The alcove was filled with the pale light of a waxing moon, and the lamps strung along the banks of the river. The luminescence cast an unearthly gleam across their disguises, rendering their appearances unfamiliar to each other once more.

Jack's hands went up to remove his mask, but Will reached out quickly and grabbed his wrists.

"They haven't said we can take them off yet."

"Wha'?! Since when do we care about what 'they' say?"

Will lifted Jack's arms up above his head, backing him up against the pillar and growling into Jack's ear.

"I haven't said you can take it off yet."

"But... I won't be able to kiss you," Jack grumbled, and Will could hear the pout in his voice and stifled a laugh. He leaned in close to Jack's ear.

"I know," he whispered.

Jack said nothing, but Will could tell from his eyes that he was grinning madly. Jack interlaced their fingers together, arcing their arms downwards, then slipped one of Will's hands under the black velvet, pressing it against the hard length between his legs.

"Then your hands will just have to do, won't they, luv." Jack said, his fingers already darting under Will's cloak to work at the buttons on Will's breeches, leading by example. He only undid the two buttons holding the front fly in place, leaving the others at Will's waist fastened so his breeches stayed in place, and drew Will's hard, heavy cock out through the gap, fingertips running through the dark, curly hair before he wrapped his hand around the length and started fisting slowly. Will let out a groan of pleasure, his hand still teasingly tracing the shape of Jack's erection through the cloth. He leaned in, his voice at Jack's ear a purred whisper, and started on the first button.

"I've watched you all night, Peacock. Watched you flutter round everyone as they hang on your every word and move while you rob them blind." Will's hand slid inside Jack's breeches, and Jack felt the first expert tug from those strong fingers and let out a gasp. Will's free hand undid the rest of the buttons, and he pushed the fabric down over Jack's hips.

"I wanted to touch you so much, feel you moving against me, like this. Your hand on me..."

Jack rolled the end of his thumb against the sensitive seam of skin under the head of Will's cock. Gasping, Will elbowed the edge of his cloak to the side, and drew back the edge of Jack's to reveal Jack's hips, bared below his shirt and above his breeches, and the curve of his cock, hard under Will's hand. Will took a single step forwards and pressed Jack against the pillar, his hips coming forwards and sending their cocks into a delicious slide over one another.

"Mmm... Jack, I know it's you, but this feels... like I'm..."

"I know, luv. Sordid and depraved and what if I find out you've been bringin' off strange masked men in alcoves. Oh yeah... like tha'... Mmm, scandalous. An' just imagine what you'll do when you find out what I've been up to with this delectable chap, who, right now, is rubbin' up against me with the most perfect cock I have ever seen."

If Jack could have peeked under Will's mask at that moment, he would have confirmed his suspicion that this remark had elicited a deep blush, and pleased, lip-biting grin. They wrapped their arms round each other, letting their hips do the work as they fucked each other's bellies.

"This... is... uhhh... liable... to get quite...oooh... sticky."

Will snorted, the motion of his hips stilled as he tried not to laugh.

"Since when do you care about the practicalities of things?"

"Since when did I tell you you could stop?" Jack gripped Will's buttocks and canted up against him, but the sweet friction wasn't enough.

"Oh god. Need more. Need to feel you."

"Nnngh. Me too."

Will reached up and unlaced the cord around Jack's collarbone that held the cloak in place.

"What're you doin'?"

"I don't know if I can lift you and the cloak at the same time," Will said, slipping it from Jack's shoulders and dropping it carefully to the floor, trying to dampen the noise of the heavy thud and jingle of its contents. "Besides, it'll get in the way."

"Damn. I was sort of lookin' forward to hearin' it clink in time with you fucking me."

Will paused for a moment, arrested by the sight of Jack's familiar form revealed once the cloak had gone; the mane of dark, jewelled hair, the linen shirt and fine wool breeches he knew well, wantonly rumpled down to reveal the narrow hips and curved cock he knew even better. Yet the figure retained its aura of strangeness, this chimerical faceless bird-man that looked like he could join the ranks of the Egyptian gods. Will squeezed his eyes shut to break the spell, and drew Jack into his arms, and suddenly he was aware of the practicalities of the situation.

"This is going to hurt; we've nothing to ease the way," he whispered, reality making its way through the cloud of lust in his brain. His insistence at keeping on the masks meant there was no possibility of using their mouths to ease the way, and he thought about reconsidering it. Both of them were regretting the foolish notion that this would be an evening entirely about business. In each others company, they realised it was becoming increasingly difficult to think of anything besides pleasure.

"Won't be makin' this mistake again. Should always have somethin' with us."

"I'll go and find something..."

"No, stay. Do you really think I care if it hurts or not? Want you right up inside me, darlin'. Now."

"Jack... Maybe we shouldn't... Maybe I should instead."

"Will," Jack snarled, his voice hard-edged, and he dug his nails into Will's buttocks, canting his erection hard against Will's. "Stow it. Don't you fuckin' dare... Do this, or I'll throw you straight out of that soddin' window an' hope your fall ain't broken by some passin' trollop."

Will laughed, but felt Jack trembling with need, and saw the glitter of the black eyes boring into him, urging him onwards. He reached down and pushed Jack's breeches further down his hips, thumbs sliding back up into the grooves where the bones flared outwards. Then he curled his fingers firmly round the tip of Jack's cock, drawing as much of the slickness onto his hand as he could, and reached round as Jack leaned forwards. Will's fingers brushed against the puckered entrance, coating the skin as much as he could before slipping a finger inside. Jack moaned and his head went back, exposing his bare throat. Will's urge to turn and bite him was reined-in by the constraint of the mask. He could still smell him though, the scent of musk and arousal rising off him. Will twisted his hand and added another finger, stroking deeper, then winced slightly as Jack gripped the back of his neck.

"Christ... can't wait any longer. Just get inside me, dammit."

Will gave Jack a long look, before pulling his fingers out and crouching down slightly, hooking his hands under the backs of Jack's thighs and lifting him, sliding him up the pillar.

Jack glanced down at the tangle of the crotch of his breeches pushed up between his and Will's chests, which effectively hobbled his thighs together, his knees gripping Will's waist and his arms round his neck, clinging tightly.

"Dignified," he snorted, as Will shifted slightly to position himself, balancing all of Jack's weight in one hand for a single Herculean moment, as he used the other to guide his cock up against the seam of Jack's arse. Will sucked in his breath, shaking his head in disagreement with Jack's assessment as he looked at the armful of awkwardly folded pirate.

"No. Gorgeous."

Then Will eased the head of his cock past the pulsing, tight ring of muscle, and Jack swore, gritting his teeth. Will didn't push, he just let gravity, and Jack's grim determination take its course, gritting his teeth at the impossibly slow slide as his cock disappeared, swallowed up by the delicious velvet heat inside Jack's body. Jack breathed hard, the air rushing in and out of his flaring nostrils as his fingers dug in to Will's shoulders, the mask showing nothing of his expression, save for his eyes squeezing shut. And by Christ, it did hurt, but nothing was going to stop Jack now, especially once Will was positioned perfectly against that heaven of nerve-endings inside him that sent waves of shivery pleasure all the way from the tip of his cock to the top of his head, as Will gently began to rock his hips upwards, filling him completely.

Jack gripped around Will's shoulder's, holding on with one arm while he brought the other round to slide under Will's shirt, playing with his nipples. Will's head dropped back and he moaned softly, muffled by the mask, his hips undulating faster in a snake-like ripple. Jack tensed at the increased pressure, his knees squeezing half the air out of Will's lungs. Desperate for skin, he pushed Will's shirt up as far as it would go, then his own, and brought as much of their chests into contact as he could over the top of the fabric of his breeches.

"Resourceful, aren't you, Peacock," Will gasped.

Jack nudged his cheek against Will's, the masks meeting with a soft 'clack'. Will turned his head, pressing a kiss unthinkingly towards the movement, and only succeeded in feeling his mouth meet the inside of his mask. He felt the barest whisper of contact from the silkiness of one of the feathers against his lower lip through the slit, and heard a soft sucking sound at his shoulder. He smiled as he realised Jack was doing the same thing too, trying to kiss the skin that wasn't there.

Demonstrating his resourcefulness again, Jack raised both his hands and grasped the golden-clad face in front of him, his hips jerking forwards to take Will deeper inside him. He heard the quick, panting breath hiss out through the holes of nose and mouth of the immobile features of the gold mask, knowing all the expressions Will wore beneath it—brow knitted, jaw clenched making the muscle jump under his cheekbones, then his mouth dropping open to gasp before biting his lip, the dimple forming next to his mouth. He knew them all, each lovely look Will wore, each sound he made, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever perverse angel had granted him such unexpected favour. He threaded his fingers through Will's hair and pulled him in roughly, tilted his head and brought the mouths of their masks into alignment.

Suddenly, Will felt the tip of Jack's tongue poking through the slit at his mouth, brushing against his lip. With a moan, he pushed back against it, tiny wet licks, rasping against the too-small hole. The sensation of this impossibly narrowed intimacy brought everything into sharp focus. Jack rolled his hips again, feeling the warm slide of skin on skin as Will thrust into him, the rhythm more urgent now. There was just this, just now; small bare patches between chest and belly and thigh and everything in between where they joined together tight and hot, and tangles of linen and wool and velvet covering envious deprived skin everywhere else. With a rough, low gasp, Jack could feel that deep, broiling desire condensing inside him, tightening around the delicious slide of Will's cock.

"Unnnh. Close. I'm so close. That's it, darlin'. God, Will, you're gonna make me come without even touchin' me. Come on. Harder."

Jack knew that any request for 'faster' would be demanding the impossible, given the precarious position Will already had him balanced in, and he could feel Will's arms trembling slightly, his biceps rock hard and straining with the effort of holding Jack up. A series of deep chimes began, as the bells in all the churches began to ring out the hour of midnight. By then, the only sounds that mattered to Will were the moaning noises Jack was making, the pitch rising and rising with every stroke.

"Jack... so... damn tight. So... fucking... mine."

The last word sent Jack over the edge, and he writhed, spine arching backwards as warm wetness flooded his belly, and Will's name spilled over his lips. It only took another thrust into that heartstoppingly tight squeeze for Will to come too, with a choked cry and a snarl and an 'Oh Christ, Jack!'

They both slid partway down the pillar, a high-pitched whine in their ears from the echoing blood. Will bit his lip and pulled out of Jack as carefully as he could, all his muscles spasming. Jack gave a soft hiss, which turned into a laugh as Will frantically shook out his hands, trying to get some movement back into them. Jack wrapped his arms round Will.

"Ah. Souvenirs of our travels."

"Your aching backside, and my dead arms?"

"Better than some of the shite we've brought back with us."

"Like your bloody stuffed ocelot," Will muttered. Jack opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by a loud cry reverberating from the ballroom.

'Signore e signori, rimuovono le vostre mascherine!' (1)

A loud cheering went up, and the music rose to a crescendo.

"I think the unmaskin' is our cue to leave, darlin'."

"Pity. I was just starting to have fun," Will said, hooking a thumb under the rim of the mask and pushing it up over his forehead, his face flushed and damp, leaning back to give Jack a slightly dazed grin. Jack reached down to hoist up his rumpled breeches, then encountered the wetness on his belly and made a little harrumphing noise.

"Told you. Sticky."

"Really, you do find the oddest moments to get all fastidious."

Will dropped to his knees.

Jack had the terribly disorientating sight of the nodding golden mask smiling blankly up at him, empty eye sockets gazing heavenwards like one of the gilded putti in the nearby San Marco cathedral, and beneath that, Will's face, eyes shut in rapture, as he licked through the dark line of hair on Jack's belly, tongue curving wickedly to lap up every last pale drop that lingered on Jack's trembling skin.

"Mmm. I think Lucifer took lessons in lasciviousness from you, Will. But even at his finest, he could never match you for depravity."

"There. Better now?" Will stood, glowing with satisfaction, and smiled at Jack, who was still wearing his mask of feathers, head leaning back against the pillar. Will leaned in and kissed the curve of Jack's neck, feeling him nodding his head against his jaw. Jack let out a long breath.

"If there was somethin' bigger than 'infinitely', I would be better than that, aye darlin'."

Will reached down and gently shimmied Jack's breeches back up round his waist, his fingers working at the buttonholes, silently watching the black eyes regarding him. Jack's eyes were expressive at the best of times, but once divorced from the distracting misdirection of his curving smile and angular nose and cheekbones, Will could read the emotions there more easily. The anonymity of the mask gave Jack the space to be vulnerable, for a moment at least. Jack hissed as Will slid his hands upwards, skimming the hard, muscular planes of his body, until Will's fingers met the bare skin at Jack's throat and travelled all the way up, freeing him from the confines of his harlequin veneer, and revealing the other mask Jack showed to the rest of the world. But there was no disguising the candour in his expression as Jack lunged forwards and pressed his mouth to Will's in a long, deep, desperately hungry kiss that left them both panting, and with the taste of each others blood on their lips.

Will rested his forehead against Jack's, his thumb stroking his cheek, echoing the gesture he made as they danced earlier, and now glad of the warm, living skin beneath his touch instead of the alien feathered surface.

"I'm glad I get to see under that mask you wear, Jack, every now and then when you choose to lift it."

Jack smiled, reaching up to pull the hollow gold face away from the crown of Will's head, and dropping it to the floor so he could run his hand through the dark curls.

"Only for you, luv," he whispered, leaning in to kiss Will's smile. "Only you."

Will felt warm all over.

From the other side of the curtain, an increasing volley of alarmed cries could be heard.

"Il mio collane! Manca! (2)

"Qualcuno rubato il mio braccialo! (3)

"Maledicalo tutto! I miei anello migliori, andati!" (4)

Will raised an eyebrow at Jack, jerking his head towards the nearby window.

"Looks like the party's over."

"Indeed," Jack said, lifting the latch and swinging it open. "But the night is young, and we are in love, eh darlin'?"

They bundled out of the window, Jack smacking Will playfully on the rump with a delighted cry of 'Wagtail!' on the way, and dropped into the street below. Will gave Jack a horrified look as he shed the remainder of his disguise, suddenly realising that they had left the cloak full of Jack's spoils slumped in a guilty pile upstairs.

Jack shrugged and grinned.

"Come on, mate. We're both richer than Croesus a dozen times over. Any more swag on board, an' we'll sink the Pearl. Besides, it ain't about the loot no more. Never really was, not for me."

"No," Will said, nodding as he caught on to Jack's meaning. "It's about the game, isn't it. The chase, not the winning of it."

Jack hooked an arm round Will's waist, as they fell into a quick pace together, slipping between the shadows of the pillars. Jack nudged Will with his hip, veering them off-course for a moment.

"I've already won everything I could want, eh?"

With that, Jack produced a champagne bottle out from under his shirt and pulled the cork out with his teeth, spitting it into the river.

"Not so good as rum, but it'll do," he said, raising it in salute to Will, as they slinked rapidly towards the waiting longboat.

Will shook his head in amused amazement.

"Where in the hell were you hiding that?"

"Now then darlin'. If you knew where I kept everythin' hidden, it'd spoil the game, wouldn't it?"

"Alright Jack," Will laughed. "Since you've given me your masks, you can keep your mystery."

"And that, Will darlin', is why you are the one to warrant the price you are worth, and I would pay it for no one else," Jack said, stopping short for a second to give Will a few pennies change in a brief, lip-crushing kiss.

The Venetian night swallowed them whole, and sent them back sinless to the sea.

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