Will had said he wouldn't leave the island without Jack. He had meant it—and for more than the compass. True, he cared for Elizabeth and he did want to save her life, but he knew Fate meant for he and Jack to end up together.

So now that he and Jack had returned to the Pearl, Will found it was not a surprise when Gibbs took night watch of the decks and Mr. Cotton was given the dubious honor of standing watch in front of the Captain's quarters.

As it neared midnight, Jack remained keyed up and anxious. He paced the oriental rug which lined the floor of his quarters—clearly pilfered from Singapore—muttering nonsensical remarks to himself as Will followed the pirate's motions with his eyes. He hadn't been able to find a heading and was nervous and snappish. Jack wasn't the man Will remembered.

After nearly a full hour of his maddening behavior, Jack ceased the motion of his fingers and hands, stood still in front of Will and looked him in the eye.

"You want to save Elizabeth, aye?"

Will nodded.

"And ye think ye can trust a pirate to do the right thing?"

"I trust you, Jack."

Jack ran a finger over the cloth wrapped around his palm. If he thought too long about this, Jack knew he would grow soft to the boy.

"How much do ye trust me, Will?"

"Completely."

Jack moved until he was inches from the boy and drew his sword, placing it to Will's slender, pretty neck hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.

"How much do ye trust me, Will?" he repeated.

"Completely." Quieter and more intimate this time, but again without hesitation.

Sheathing his sword, Jack placed a sea-hardened and wood-worn hand to Will's sun-darkened cheek. Moving to Will, he pressed his lips roughly to the boy's, biting the younger man's lips and sucking hard, surely by the end of the night they would be swollen and bruised from the pirate's ministrations.

Will felt the cloth that circled Jack's hand but said nothing. He drowned himself in the familiar sensation of Jack's lips and that of Jack tugging on his hair with long, slender fingers. The pirate's tongue slipped through Will's lips and Will allowed Jack entry. The kiss was deep and hungry and needy beyond imagination—Jack had to have this to calm himself down. Will focused on the pleasure that each bite gave him. Soon Jack's callused hands were making short work of his vest and tunic, pulling them off and over the younger man's head.

The kiss grew rougher, and Will grunted when Jack bit just that much too hard and felt the sting of copper in his mouth. Jack's fingernails raked over the younger man's flesh and pulled as his breeches, nearly tearing the buttons off.

Will assisted the pirate and removed them quickly but carefully.

"On yer knees, Will," Jack commanded, and Will obeyed, telling himself that this is what Jack needed to settle his head and find his way. Just this, just him.

Behind his back, the rushed sound of breeches being untied at the hips and the sound of fabric sliding over flesh. Jack grasped Will's hair and whispered in his ear: "Breathe, William."

There was the sound of spit and then Jack was pressing into him, working to gain entrance with little lubricant and less patience.

Will gasped as Jack slid inside, the pain was white hot and Jack's hands in his hair were tugging hard and making him see stars. As Jack began to move, the thrusts were rhythmic as the ocean, began to give way from pain to pleasure and Jack moved a ringed hand from the twisted, dark hair of the younger man to the length of his cock, pumping the flesh and twisting with each of the thrusts, a twist as his hips met the young man's ass and his hand slid down as he withdrew to thrust again.

Jack's breath was hot and desperate in Will's ear, and Will was keening, moaning and arching into the motion that Jack had granted him, and they had both missed this so much—they had missed each other and now was the time to make up for that they had lost.

Jack's hands moved to the boys shoulders and he pulled Will into each rock of his hips, rough and angry with the motion but Will granted him the pleasure of his yelps and the motion became faster, over and over, thrusting, rocking, Jack inside Will's tight heat and Will reveling in the ministrations of Jack's rapidly moving hands—hands like birds when not occupied—and they were both coming, arching and grunting and shuddering as the sensation took them.

Jack released the boy and offered him his thanks.

"I'd go to the ends of the world for you, Jack." Will reassured.

A warm silence fell between the two, and Will redressed and made his way to the deck to take watch, replacing Gibbs.

"Will," Jack said, stopping the younger man.

"Pirates are untrustworthy. Not worth your time."

Will simply shook his head and smiled.