Allegiance, Chapter 13
The Windward Passage, 1 month later
by
Full headers in Chapter 1
Disclaimer: The Mouse owns them, but I take them out and play with them. No money involved. All for fun.
Disclaimer: The Mouse owns them, but I take them out and play with them. No money involved. All for fun.
"Sail ho!"
"It's the Lazarus, sir, and a ship with black sails."
Norrington gazed through his glass intently. "So it is," he said. "Captain Sparrow has been busy, I see."
"Sir, it looks like the Black Pearl!"
"I believe you are correct, Lieutenant," Norrington replied. He glanced at Captain Marshall, who nodded and began giving the necessary orders. They would await Sparrow here. Captain Marshall had asked if they should prepare for battle, on the chance that the reverse was true—that the Pearl had captured the Lazarus—and that this was in reality Barbossa attempting to catch them off guard. But Norrington shook his head. Both the brig and the ship were flying signals that he recognized as coming from the Spanish documents. Only Sparrow would have known them, and known that Norrington would recognize their meaning.
For some little while Norrington paced the quarterdeck, stopping from time to time to stare at the approaching vessels. So, he thought, Jack had succeeded in capturing the Black Pearl, against impressive odds. Norrington was, of course, delighted to have Barbossa accounted for. It was that, he told himself, and nothing more that made his spirits rise as he watched the Pearl bear down on them.
Two hours from the first sighting, a boat from the Pearl drew alongside the Dauntless and Jack came up the side. Norrington was on the main deck to greet him.
"Captain Sparrow," he nodded—his determination to show nothing of what he felt giving him an air of rather distant formality.
Jack swept a bow and smirked. "That's Commodore Sparrow, if you please, sir." He turned and waved in the direction of the Pearl and the Fury.
Norrington's eyebrows rose and his mouth thinned. Provoking bastard. "Congratulations appear to be in order," he said, a little stiffly. "That is the Black Pearl, is it not?"
"To be sure, it is," Jack grinned.
"And Barbossa?"
"Dead," Jack replied, "along with many of his crew. A few of them escaped, but for the most part they are dead—or soon will be."
Ruthless satisfaction gave Jack's face for a moment a feral cast that took James aback. Pirate, he thought.
As if he could read James's mind, Jack grinned, once again all sly mischief. "Would you like to inspect her, Commodore?" he asked.
Common sense told him to refuse, but Jack's eyes were glinting with that now-familiar challenge and he found himself accepting the invitation almost without volition. Damn the man; it was infuriating to be out-maneuvered in such a way.
He spoke as little as possible as they were rowed over to the Pearl, merely enough to avoid the appearance of petulance. Jack, he could see, was mightily amused and pleased with himself and James's irritation grew.
Aboard the Pearl, Jack gave him a complete tour; they went over her from bowsprit to taffrail. She gleamed with polish and fresh varnish, her rigging was taut and the sails new—James had to admit she was a beauty, if decidedly unconventional.
The crew, James noticed, watched him with a careful lack of expression that spoke volumes. They were not pleased to see him, of this he was sure. They were a motley assortment; some of them looked distinctly piratical, while others gave a more convincing impression of respectability. Jack might call her a privateer, but the Black Pearl was still a pirate vessel, he was certain.
"I must admit, Captain Sparrow," James said at last, "that I am impressed with her condition. Most pirate vessels that I have had occasion to board were slatternly to the point of filth."
"Aye," Jack replied, cocking an eyebrow at James's refusal to call him Commodore, "the Pearl was no better. But we've been working on her for more than a month and she's almost restored to her former condition."
"Her former condition?" James asked. "So you have known this ship in the past?"
Jack nodded, grinned, and said no more. James, annoyed once again, swore silently and vowed to be led no more into gratifying Sparrow's love of being mysterious.
"You will stay to dine, of course, won't you Commodore?" Jack asked, gesturing for James to precede him into the great cabin.
"No, I am afraid I must not..." James began. His words cut off abruptly as he was spun around and Jack's mouth closed on his.
Jack backed him into a table and pressed him hard against it, holding his face when he tried to break the kiss.
James took hold of Jack to push him away but found that somehow his arms had gone round him and were gripping his buttocks, pulling him close and rubbing their cocks together. He realized at the same moment that he was sucking Jack's tongue and moaning softly. This was madness. With difficulty he pulled his mouth away from Jack's and said so.
Jack ignored him, nibbling on his throat and murmuring, "I told you there'd be a next time, didn't I, love?" He chuckled. "You should trust me."
James tried again to push Jack away. "Stop it, you lunatic," he said. "Anyone could..."
"Door's locked," Jack grinned.
"And if someone tries the door, what will they think?" James asked.
"That I do not wish to be disturbed and to come back later," Jack shrugged. "Now kiss me."
Suddenly James was angry. This... this pirate made it sound so simple. If you want something, take it. If it brings pleasure, do it. No thought for decency. No shame.
Furiously he shoved Jack backward and followed, pushing him again until Jack stumbled and crashed into the hull. James pinned him there with his body, glaring down into snapping eyes that laughed at him still.
"Shameless," James growled and crushed his lips to Jack's.
Jack wriggled encouragingly and hummed his approval as James ravished his mouth. The hum became a moan as James undid Jack's breeches and took hold of his cock in an ungentle grasp.
Stroking hard, James raised his head and watched Jack's face; the mocking eyes were closed but his mouth was open as he panted in time to the movements of James's hand. Jack groaned as James tightened his grip and stroked faster.
"Please," he whimpered, "James, please."
As his cries grew louder, James placed his free hand over Jack's mouth, while with the other he worked him harder and faster still. "Shameless," he snarled again.
Jack's back was arched, tight as a drawn bow, and his voice behind the muffling hand was hoarse and desperate. James's hand had become a blur of motion when Jack gave a last shout, spilling himself in thick spurts as he went limp against the hull.
After a few moments, James removed his hand from Jack's breeches; Jack sighed and opened his eyes. He brought James's hand to his mouth and, holding James's gaze, he slowly licked each finger clean of his seed. Next he ran his tongue in long, slow sweeps across James's palm and knuckles.
At the first touch of Jack's tongue, James gasped. The feel of it curling around his fingers loosened his knees. "Stop," he whispered. "Don't..."
Jack smiled and continued lapping, sleek as a cat in cream. "Always don't," he mocked softly, between licks. "Remember what I told you, love. Don't think, feel."
"Feel this." He drew James's thumb into his mouth and sucked hard, caressing it with his tongue. James's eyes went wide and Jack let his thumb slip free with another smile. He turned them around and pressed James back against the hull. "Feel this," he said again, and kissed him, nipping to make James open his mouth and slipping his tongue in, flickering and teasing.
James tasted Jack's seed, bitter-salt, on his tongue and shivered. He reached to take Jack's head in his hands but Jack gripped his wrists and forced them down and back until his hands were flat against the planks of the hull.
"You'll want to be holding onto something," Jack whispered against his lips. He slithered down to kneel between James's feet. "When you feel this," he said, unbuttoning James's breeches.
James looked down as his cock sprang free. Jack breathed upon it and he groaned, letting his head fall back against the hull with a thud. "Jack," he said, voice breaking.
"Hush, love," Jack murmured. He pressed the flat of his tongue to the underside of James's cock and drew it firmly up and over the head, swirling gently around and down again. "Feel."
Indeed, James could do naught else but feel as Jack's mouth closed on his cock. He forgot to breathe as wet heat engulfed his senses. Jack sucked lightly at first, working his way down the shaft and then up, with lips and tongue and a hint of teeth. James groaned again and bucked. Jack stilled him with a hand on his hip and sucked harder, humming softly. His other hand massaged James's balls, then slipped back to press one finger lightly against the tight ring of muscle.
"Oh God," James gasped, and bit his lips in a vain attempt to keep from whimpering. His fingers clawed at the hull, searching frantically for support as his knees buckled.
Jack drove his mouth down again and again, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked. He opened his jaws wider and relaxed his throat as James began to thrust helplessly. Jack looked up, waiting for the moment when James's eyes opened and he looked down. In that instant Jack curled his finger, breaching James to the first knuckle and James shattered with a cry; coming hard into Jack's waiting mouth.
Jack licked James clean and released him as his legs gave way and he slid down to sit on the deck facing Jack. Jack leaned forward and kissed him.
"Trying," James panted, "you're trying to kill me."
Jack chuckled. "Oh, not quite yet, James," he replied. "But there are worse ways to go, eh?"
"I can think of one or two, yes," James said. He pulled Jack around to sit next to him and silence fell, save for the sound of breathing slowly returning to normal.
After a time, James said, "I should go."
Jack stirred and stretched. "Not yet," he replied. "You are to dine with me, remember?"
"I remember declining your invitation," James said, wryly. "But you didn't seem to be listening."
"No more than I am now," Jack grinned, fastening his breeches and getting to his feet. "Come on, put yourself to rights and we'll have some wine while we wait for the food to arrive."
James shook his head without speaking and did as he was told. Jack had poured them some of the Xeres and they sat at the ornate table, sipping and chatting. James asked to know the Pearl's history, but Jack grinned and refused. They talked instead of James's recently concluded operations against the Spanish, which had gone according to plan, to the vast irritation of a number of colonial governors.
Dinner was delicious and, although James would not admit it even to himself, too soon over. When he rose to go Jack took his arm and walked him out to the rail. As the boat was lowered he grinned and said with a bow, "Until next time, Commodore."
James's lips thinned at the veiled taunt and he bowed somewhat coldly. "Captain Sparrow," he replied. As he climbed down and took his place in the boat he heard Jack laugh.
"That's Commodore," the mocking voice drifted down to him as the boat pulled away, "Commodore Jack Sparrow."
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