Jack impaled himself on James' needy, throbbing cock and had the audacity to swear at his lover.

"Fuck, Jamie! If you haven't gotten bigger since the last time, then I don't know how you feel inside me." He ground down, twisting first to the right and then to the left, as he began to ride him up, down and sideways.

Grinning with feral glee, James gripped Jack's hips and thrust upwards, hard and fast, making the scoundrel pay for...

"Auhhhhh!" Jack's head fell back, exposing his throat. If it was within reach James would have sunk his teeth into that golden temptation; since it wasn't a possibility for the moment he had to satisfy himself with Jack's forearm. Jack's shriek of pain reverberated through them both.

"Dirty rotten bugger!"

Jack leaned forward planting his hands on either side of James' head. Their faces were very close together. Those black eyes bore into his and James wondered if he had gone too far. A quick glance to the left showed a red mark over Jack's sparrow tattoo. He hadn't broken the skin. Good. He hadn't intended to, only to let Jack know his feelings.

"Yer a bad boy, Jamie Commodore Bloody Norrington, love. Y'll have to be pun... Whaaa?!"

James flipped Jack over so that he would land on his back. But James had misjudged where they were on the bed and Jack went over the side, scrabbling for purchase on the cheap blankets supplied by the inn. James suddenly regretted his sneaky lover's superior reflexes when he felt strong thighs clamp to his sides. He felt an instant of weightless surprise and then a thump, jarring his knees and hands as they landed in a startled, breathless heap. James' hands skidded outward and he lost what little balance he had, coming to rest with Jack flattened under his larger body.

"What'd ye do that for?" Jack asked when he could speak again, the words muffled because his lips were smashed against James' shoulder.

"I missed y-you." His voice breaking on the last word, James spoke for the first time since Jack tripped over the window sill an hour earlier. Their exuberant reunion had precluded conversation, opting instead for touch, smell and taste—lots of touching. James dropped his head onto Jack's chest. His gaze travelled to that bite mark. He brought Jack's arm to his mouth and slowly licked the bruised flesh, dredging a heartfelt moan out of his lover.

He was still inside Jack.

His body became aware of that fact before his mind did, reawakening after the shock of the fall. As he filled Jack again, his lover squirmed in pleasure.

"Now that's a treat." He stretched his arms overhead before bringing them around to drape over James' shoulders. James lifted his head at last and smiled. He slid his hands under Jack's body, cupping the firm cheeks and pulling him up. They grinned at each other as their lower bodies writhed in slow undulations. That ever-present spark between them ignited and suddenly their movements quickly became infused with desperation, the fire blazing hot and fast. This time when Jack arched against him, James followed into sweaty oblivion.

After a while they roused long enough to curl around one another on the crumpled scatter rug. What had just passed between them was what had led them to one another on that first, fateful night. An animalistic attraction, some base, lust-driven frenzy to couple; and yet, the primal need had turned into so much more. James knew that if he ever received word that Jack was lost to him, he would grieve for a long, long time, but he would also carry with him the joy of having loved Jack Sparrow.

A rough hand passed over his chest drawing him out of his bittersweet reverie, the callused palm catching slightly on his chest hairs. He plucked it up, kissed each raised bit of skin, and then turned to regard his lover with as haughty an expression as he could manage. All the while he knew he looked like a cat having just feasted on a cream-dipped canary.

"Smug looks good on ye," Jack teased, confirming his notion.

"I learned from the best." James shifted so he could kiss the tip of Jack's nose, and then tucked his head in under the braided chin.

"I'm not arguin' with ye."

A lazy, contented and, above all, happy smile settled on James' face, and he closed his eyes to the sound of Jack quietly singing something about rotten eggs and rum.

# end