Commodore Norrington kicked off his shoes and fell backwards onto his bunk at Fort Charles, one arm draped across his eyes, shielding them from the unrelenting Caribbean sun streaming in through the unshuttered window. He sighed and rolled off the bed, back to his feet, shrugging off his heavy coat as he did so. His waistcoat followed, draped over the back of a chair, then stockings, shirt and breeches, and finally he could peel back the heavy coverlet and crawl beneath the blissfully cool cotton sheet. With the ease of a man who has seen far too many sleepless days and nights in his life, he fell immediately into a refreshing slumber.

The noise was slight, and so it woke him slowly. Scritch, scratch, mutter, curse, rustle and then near silence as the sentry paced the grounds three floors below. The sentry turned the corner, and the sounds resumed. Closer now—he would have to move carefully as the intruder might already be high enough up to glimpse into the room.

With a grunt he threw one arm back over his eyes, and languidly stretched the other to that it came to rest behind his head, beneath the pillow. Shifting position slightly, he made sure to let out a soft murmer—may as well give them a bit of encouragement, reassure whoever it was that he was in the room, he reasoned with a feline smile.

There came a slight pause, a light scrabble, then the soft slap of bare feet on the floorboards of his room. A low chuckle, and he knew who his visitor was.

"Good day, Captain Sparrow," he drew and cocked the pistol from beneath the pillow, aiming it by ear alone.

"Commodore." There was a note of disgust in the pirate's voice, and Norrington smiled. The Captain didn't like to be bested, and not once had he or Mr Turner managed to surprise the Commodore. Even worse, the insufferably pompous naval officer had now learnt how to tell which of the two approached him, so they could not even surprise him that way. He sank into the chair with a sulky look on his face.

"I'll thank you not to crease my uniform," admonished the Commodore, still inspecting the inside of his eyelids. The pirate straightened his back and glowered. "You can take that look off your face as well, Captain. I would have thought we'd been playing this game long enough now for you to be used to losing." His lip quirked up in the all-too-familiar fond smirk.

Jack scowled and stood.

"Leaving so soon, Captain?" James lifted the wrist draped over his face, turned his head and lazily regarded his intruder with one eye. His pistol remained levelled at Jack's chest.

Jack growled in the back of his throat, turning to the window whence he had entered.

"Ah ah! Not so fast!" James tracked him with the pistol and Jack stilled. The Commodore's stern face melted into a genuine smile and he continued gently, "I have to say, I'm rather flattered by all this attention, but I have to question why?"

Dark eyes darted to the window, then back to the pistol. The pirate forced his body's muscles to relax into his habitual insouciant slouch. " 's a challenge," he shrugged, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a known criminal to risk his life climbing the outside of a four-storey building in broad daylight so that he might surprise the Commodore in his bed.

The smile remained; warm, challenging, compelling. A dark eyebrow arched over an emerald eye. "Is that so?"

"Aye." The pirate captain took another step—this time directly towards the cocked pistol—then continued to walk deliberately towards the commodore's weapon, directly challenging him. "A man's gotta know what he can and can't do."

With the last word, he stopped moving. The gun's mouth rested against his stomach, and the commodore's other arm had moved, his second eye opened, and he stared speechlessly up at the interloper for a heartbeat.

"Is that so?" he whispered.

"Aye," repeated the tousled maritime vagabond, smiling down at his prey. Smiling through the dreadlocks and the beaded beard and the salt grime; smiling not just warmly and compellingly, but so bewitchingly that the proper, upstanding Commodore of Port Royal raised no objection as those full red lips descended to his own, brushing lightly then darting away.

He gasped, a sharp indrawn breath which made the pirate grin. The pirate who yet bent over him; who had folded his lithe body so neatly over the cold steel nozzle of his handgun; who had gained access to his chamber by dexterity of hand and foot, not to mention sheer courage and brazen impudence; who, when questioned had answered with a smile and then a kiss. He considered his intruder in silence for a few moments, both of them unmoving, then carefully, conscious of the danger of a wrong move, uncocked his pistol and placed it on the floor.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I quite caught that," he lightly informed his visitor.

Jack Sparrow felt an inner flutter of delight—not that he would ever admit it. It seemed he'd successfully moved the game to a new level, and one in which he felt sure of his superiority. Eyes sparkling with his smile, he bent down once more and pressed his lips to the other man's.

Only to be taken by surprise yet again.

Instead of passively accepting the brush of his lips, the stiff-upper lip of the English gentleman relaxed and responded eagerly to his touch. He moved back once more, and straightened, looking down at the recumbent figure with a slight frown, inspecting the smile on Norrington's face for any hint of mirth. Tentatively, trying to work out the solution to his puzzle, he stooped once more.

This time there was no doubting the Commodore's reaction. The hand which had lain across his face when the pirate first entered the room now dashed to bury itself in untidy piratical locks of hair, whilst that which had until very recently brandished a lethal weapon now wrapped around the pirate's hip and pulled him down to the bed.

"Not so fast!" the pirate gasped, pulling his head from the commodore's strong grip as his lower half gave way to his adversary's demands and seated him on the edge of the single bed. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts and trying to decipher the face gazing up at him. Shock and pleasure shone from those deep green eyes, and he thought he could detect a hint of hurt as well. He wondered if he were flattering himself in thinking that the hurt was due to his withdrawal. Still, a man could only handle so many surprises in one day.

Or could he? The set of Norrington's jaws changed; Jack wondered if he were in for a dressing down, but the officer remained silent. There was something vaguely disturbing, yet enthralling, about the man's expression. He felt a stirring in his groin at the same time as a cold sweat broke out across his shoulder blades and he realised—he was being pouted at. By Commodore Norrington. The scourge of piracy in the Spanish Main was actually encouraging him in this course of action. Stunned, his hands dropped to the thin sheet, landing either side of the increasingly inviting naval officer, and Jack leant his weight down through his arms, bending once more to this new pleasure.

This time there was not even a pretence at decorum from the man who usually embodied such traits. Still reeling with surprise and just coming to the realisation that he was quickly losing this game as well as the other, Jack's lips automatically parted to allow access to the Commodore's tongue.

James smiled in full-fledged glee as his tongue flickered in and out of the astonished pirate's mouth, wondering why he had never allowed his daydreams to progress even to this point. He realised that he hadn't considered being presented with the opportunity, and decided to take full advantage of it, snaking an arm around the slim body above him and drawing it closer even in the warmth of the tropical day.

Jack acquiesced to the pull of James' embrace, slyly opening his eyes to gather what information he could about the man who cradled him so fiercely.

His eyes were closed, absorbed in the moment; he could make out the movements of the eyeballs beneath. As Norrington drew his weight down, he detached one hand from the sheet and ran it across the commodore's forehead. And stopped; pulled away.

The commodore let out a bleat of protest before mastering himself and frowning up at him. Jack smiled gently, conscious of the need to remove any possible offence from his request lest he be denied and his hunger go unsatisfied. "Would you mind removing your wig?"

"Would I..? My ... ?" Norrington reached up to his head with one hand, and his face blanched, "Oh good grief, I completely forgot about that! It'll be ruined!"

Jack winced as the commodore pulled roughly away from him, sitting up at the head of his bed and tearing at the grips that held his powdered wig in place before he pulled the object from his head and cast it aside in disgust. Angrily, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, and the pirate instinctively retreated from his glare.

Immediately filled with contrition, he forced himself to ignore his frustration and reached a hand towards the fleeing pirate. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I was annoyed at myself. Please," he stopped abruptly, "That is, if you want to?"

For an answer, Jack grinned and seated himself astride James' legs; planted a firm kiss on his lips whilst with one hand he ruffled the commodore's untidy dark hair, and the other he ran over James' chest, tweaking playfully at the small patch of dark hair which grew there. James growled in response, tugging Jack's shirt free from his breeches and over the pirate's head. He ran his own slender fingers over the pirate's smooth, tanned upper body. Jack let out a small moan as his fingers brushed along the waistband of his breeches, dipping down close to the crease of his buttocks. The pirate pressed close against him, forcing him back against the wall and leaving the commodore in no doubt as to his intentions as his erection strained to be released from his remaining item of clothing.

James' pulse beat wilder and wilder, almost panicking him until he realised he would have to let Jack win at least this one small part of their game. With a noticeable reluctance, he disengaged his lips from Jack's. "What do you want?" he asked huskily.

Jack pulled back far enough to see his partner's eyes. His worried dark gaze acknowledged the fear in the jade depths. "You," he replied simply, throat suddenly dry as the truth behind their games was openly spoken for the first time.

James nodded, accepting this as honest. "But how?" he asked, a slight pinkness in his cheeks changing him from attractive to adorable.

Jack grinned. "Trust me?" he ventured.

James frowned, shrugged, smiled and let a passionate kiss speak for him, abandoning caution to the winds. Jack chuckled deep in his throat as he returned the passion, scrabbling with one hand to undo his breeches as he clasped the commodore to himself. Suddenly he felt the laces give as another hand came to his aid. A nip on his lip caused his eyelids to shoot open and receive the full effect of emerald eyes sparkling with mischief.

It seemed he couldn't he be rid of his clothes fast enough, then there was the sheet to contend with, and all the while he broke neither kiss nor gaze, even as he slid his hips between the other man's shapely white thighs.

"Oil," he gasped, tearing his lips away for long enough to utter this single syllable.

A crease appeared above the aristocratic nose.

"It'll... hurt..." more gasped syllables as he strained to contain his desire. Norrington wasn't helping much, the way he twined his legs around Jack's waist and his swollen shaft pressed insistently against Jack's belly. Norrington frowned and shrugged, shifting himself closer to the head of Jack's cock. "No, really," the pirate insisted, struggling to keep his composure as sweat glistened on his skin.

Something in the other man's voice must have touched Norrington, for he unwound his long legs and rolled neatly off the bed. Landing light as a cat he padded over to a chest of drawers and withdrew a bottle. "Coconut oil," he stated as if reading it off a ship's manifest, "any good?"

"Yes yes, here now!" The kneeling pirate could hardly contain his amazement and admiration—both at the way Norrington could seemingly ignore everything around him including himself, and at the way the naked commodore looked and moved. Without the bulky layers of uniform, Norrington's innate grace and fluid movement were far more evident—as was his toned and muscular body. Smiling, the commodore crossed back to the pirate on his bed and handed over the bottle, stealing yet another prolonged kiss before resuming his position. After liberal application of oil, Jack slid himself into the man beneath him. James' eyes flew wide open as Jack's fluttered closed in brief contentment. Content for a few moments simply to lie buried—until James reminded him of his presence by nipping him on the earlobe. Jack's lips broadened into a grin and he returned the favour, catching James' shoulder between his lips as he pulled out, then eased back in.

Emerald eyes danced in delight as new pleasures revealed themselves. Jack continued to smile broadly, stunned that events had progressed so far. He reached down to stroke some of the ache from James' loins only to find the commodore quite capable of ensuring his own pleasure. "Concentrate on yourself," James instructed affectionately, and Jack laughed and abandoned himself to doing just that.

James' back arched as every muscle in his body tensed at his climax. The change of angle and sudden tightness of his backside caused Jack to come almost simultaneously. Both men collapsed limply and stickily onto the bed, clasping each other tight to avoid either one falling off and laughing softly into each others' hair.

"What ... what just happened?" James' soft question broke the ensuing silence.

Jack pushed himself up onto one elbow. "You want a blow-by-blow account?"

His lips quirked in that idiosyncratic half-smile, "No, but..." he expression grew serious, "Something's ... changed."

Jack nodded.

"What can we do? We can't exactly carry on like this. I mean..." he gestured helplessly at his uniform.

Jack followed his gaze. "You could always leave, sail with me."

"I could."

Jack gaped at him. "Serious?"

"You?"

A pause, a nod.

Another pause, another nod.

"Really? You'd give up all ..." ineffectual hand waving.

"What has it given me?"

A shrug. "Won't people miss you?"

A shrug. "I'll still be around."

"But why?"

Green eyes challenged brown. James knew that Jack already knew the answer to his own question.

"But I'm..."

"Captain Jack Sparrow, as you told me when we first met." James bestowed a lingering kiss on his new-found love, "and you are far less replaceable than a Commodore."