A Fish Tale 08

Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money, etc.
Originally Posted: 3/12/06
Note: Yep... it's those mer-guys again... and chasing new horizons. Thanks to Porridgebird for the Beta... Go raibh maith agat! and for Elessil's "Sea Men"...(and hoping she's still feeling inspired.)

James wasn't sure whether to be hurt, insulted, or relieved. In truth, after a week of their enforced vacation, the complete absence of responsibility and purposeful activity was beginning to wear thin.

Of course, they had managed to pass the time pleasurably enough. And actually, James thought, raking his eyes along the length of Jack's tail, now that his mind was on such things, he wouldn't object to giving that another go this morning.

Jack caught his glance and grinned. "I did mention, you're a randy bastard, didn't I?"

"You may have, now that I think about it." He looked down to crack another shell and then back up to cast a teasing sidelong glance at Jack. "Too much for you, Sparrow?"

Jack bristled indignantly. "I'll have you know I have plans for this morning, Commodore."

Jack slid down the rocks to his side. "Aye, just as soon as I tell ya what I got in mind we can get on to the elaboratin', the demonstratin'," he leaned close and lowered his voice, "the fornicatin'."

He stole a quick kiss then. "Good morn to ya, James. Now, as I was sayin', I'm getting a bit bored an' I've been havin' a thought. What say you to a little treasure hunt?"

"No, no... not at all, mate. But it's occurred to me that we're in the unique position of being able to commandeer lost swag from ships that have gone down. That's not pirating, luv, that's collectin'."

"You're willing to give me 70 percent?" James knew damn well that wasn't what he meant.

"Now see here, James, we're gonna need the Pearl for this and I got a crew to pay."

"I suppose, Jack, in theory it might prove to be an interesting venture," he turned his attention back to his breakfast and added, "but I rather doubt there is any swag in these waters."

"Exactly my thoughts, luv!" Jack said excitedly. "So, what say you to a little trip to Gibraltar?"

"Gibraltar. Off the coast a Spain... really big rock. Believe it's under English occupation—"

"Three thousand, eight hundred and ninety-one nautical miles from Fort Charles."

James stared at him for a moment. "Do I even want to know how you come to have that information just off the top of your head?"

"Indeed," James sat back against the rocks and crossed his arms over his chest, "well, by all means, Sparrow, do go on. I can only imagine where this is must be going."

"Aye, well, ya might a heard of Admiral Francis Wheeler of HMS Sussex?" Jack cocked his head to the side and tapped thoughtfully at his chin with a finger. "Let's see... was 1690... something or other," he fluttered his hands dismissively, "anyway, when he was but a day's sail out of Gibraltar, a levanter wind came up. He tried to tack into it and run the ship back round Gibraltar, but it went down on the rocks, and all hands lost."

James furrowed his brows in concentration. "If memory serves," James said, "he was in route to pay the Duke of Savoy moneys to mount an invasion. He was a key ally in Britain's war against France."

"Aye, that's the one. Tons of gold in her hold when she went down, mate... tons."

"Surely you can't mean to try and salvage any of that." He studied Jack's face in mounting disbelief. "Oh, dear God, you do. No, Jack. Absolutely not. Of all the harebrained things that you have managed to come up with in your admittedly colorful career... well, I'd have to say that this probably tops them all."

"Jack, for God's sake, be reasonable. We can't possibly swim to the Mediterranean from the Caribbean. And even if we could manage it, why, how deep do you think that ship is?"

"And have you considered the length of time it will take to accomplish what you're purposing?"

"Christ, what if this curse should end while we're in the middle of the Atlantic? No, absolutely not. I forbid it."

"If you think for an instant, that I'm going to allow you to embark on an enterprise as foolhardy as—"

Jack had a wicked right hook and James never saw it coming. One minute he was on the rocks, and the next, he wasn't.

The blow sent him spinning down through the water to bounce gently against the seabed.
When he looked up, he could see Jack hanging over the edge of the rocks and glaring down at him through the clear water

That, James thought, as he rubbed his jaw, was probably not the wisest thing to say to Jack Sparrow.

Jack was waiting for him and still glowering. "That was to remind ya that I'm yer mate... not yer bleedin' wife." Then he dove from the rocks and James could see him arrowing off through the waters toward the cave.

Well, now, James thought, hauling himself back onto the rocks. Should he go after him? He rubbed at his chin. Perhaps not quite yet.

He sat for a while, watching across the cove to where the entrance to their cave was. Jack surely wouldn't just slip off and try it on his own. Would he?

He continued to watch the cave and worry, but despite his fretting, his mind kept circling round and round and returning to one simple statement: 'I'm your mate.'

He scrubbed distractedly at his face and swore softly to himself. Is that what this thing... this damnable, irresistible thing, had led them to? Becoming mates in a real sense of that word? Like Dree and Aroo?

The idea didn't sit well with him. But if he were honest with himself, and James usually was, that was exactly how he had just acted. There was simply no denying the sense of fierce possessiveness he felt for Jack, and the equally fierce desire to protect him and keep him safe.

A fool's task, that, he thought wryly. To think he could keep Captain Jack Sparrow from harm's way. He had a moment's humorous mental image of he and Jack as men, and trying to do just that, and then caught himself up sharply, and reminded himself bitterly of who and what they were in life.

What a ridiculous notion to even entertain, he chastised himself harshly. Jack is a pirate and a man and this absurd infatuation will end when the enchantment ends. He gazed across the water and a worrisome thought nudged from the back corners of his mind: if the infatuation does not end... what then?

He stifled it quickly and assigned the thought to a place that was ruled by duty and society and guilt. It will end, he told himself firmly.

He let his gaze wander back towards their cave and wondered if Jack was still angry.

If they were mates, if that was how Jack thought of them, then perhaps he could use that to his advantage. It was a bit of a calculated chance to take, but still, it was a better than good bet that Jack's instincts to protect were at least as strong as his.

James shook his head in bemusement as he slipped into the water. The Mediterranean... what the hell is he thinking?

Jack looked up then and watched silently as James climbed onto the ledge beside him.

"And I suppose," James continued, earnestly, "it should have been phrased more along the lines of: I'll do whatever it takes to prevent you from embarking on a course of action that will probably cause you grave harm."

Jack dropped his gaze and pulled his face into a sullen moue and returned to shredding moss.

"Aye, I did at that." Jack frowned and looked down at his hands. "You've come a long way from wantin' to hang me, Commodore."

"Yes, I have," James admitted. He stretched out on the ledge beside Jack and twined the ends of their tails together. "It seems we've both come a long way, Jack, and certainly in ways neither of us could have imagined."

Jack looked up at that and James brushed the hair back from his face and then leaned in to give him a gentle kiss. "You're one of the finest sailors I've ever known," James told him, when they drew apart, "you know the sea, and I can assume you are well aware of the risks this venture poses."

James nodded slowly as he traced light fingers along the sharp angles of Jack's cheeks and then ran his thumb along the full bottom lip.

"I'll grant you," he said softly, "the plan is an intriguing one, but with only three weeks left of the enchantment, I fear it is a doomed one."

James leaned down and kissed him again and then whispered against his lips, "But if you insist on this venture, I'll not let you go alone. I will go with you."

He lifted his face enough to see into Jack's eyes and played his ace, "That risk... and its failure will be on us both."

Jack was silent and thoughtful for several long moments as he searched James's face. "Ya know," he said, finally, "you don't fight fair."

Jack sighed and then looked up through his lashes. "Well, do ya figure I can talk ya into goin' to the Floridas?"

The request caught James completely off guard and he stared dumbly for a moment before asking, "What?"

"The Floridas." James made a quick mental calculation. That was at least within the realm of possibility and he grasped at it like a drowning man. "Yes!"

It was right about then that James began to realize that he had been very artfully played.

"Now, mate, I just happen to know that during the Great Storm of 1715, five Spanish ships went down off the coast of Cape Canaveral and loaded with—"

"Aww AWWWW..." Jack bolted up and covered his arse with his hand. "Now that was just uncalled for, Commodore," Jack said, scowling down at him.

"Sparrow," he said through clenched teeth, "I swear, if I had a knee, I'd put you over it and thrash you soundly."

"Lucky for me you've no knees, eh?" Jack answered, eyeing him warily for just a moment before the corner of his mouth curled into a dirty leer. He leaned against James and tapped his fingers against his chest, "I'm thinking though... if my arse were across your lap... you wouldn't be thinking about thrashin' it."

Jack licked a long wet path up his neck. "Tell ya what, luv," he whispered in James's ear, as he eased him back down on the ledge, "I'll forgive you for tryin' to give me orders an' you forgive me for bein'... shall we say, less than forthright in me plans."

"You're trying to distract me," James accused as Jack's fingers strayed to tease at the opening of his pouch.

Jack lifted his head and dropped his gaze to James's pouch, and smirked to see that it was beginning to swell. "You're already distracted, James." And then without ceremony, he dipped his hand inside.

James lurched in surprise, and then, "Jesus, Jack, what do you think you're... oh. Oh!"

Oh, this was lovely. This was a strong calloused hand, stroking and working his rapidly hardening cock, and the heat and desire was building in an almost familiar way.

He arched and thrust himself harder into Jack's hand, seeking a firmer touch against the knot. When Jack tightened his grip, James's tail twisted and slapped against the stone and Jack coiled his tail round it, stroking with his tail as he stroked with his hand.

Jack was kissing him hungrily now and he set a hard, rhythmic squeezing around the knot in James's prick.

This is going to be embarrassingly quick, James thought in surprise, feeling his balls tighten. But then, before the anticipated, the expected, the very much desired conclusion, Jack withdrew his hand and...

"Why the bloody hell did you stop?" his voice held just the slightest edge of desperation.

"Just thinkin' a little reciprocation might be order here, mate. An' I seem to recall there was tastin' involved in yesterday's activities."

James's pride prickled at the note of challenge in Jack's voice, and the words tripped off his tongue before he quite weighed what he was committing to. "Think you can handle that, Sparrow?" he goaded, and then clamped his mouth shut when Jack's grin widened.

"Aye. That and more, Commodore," Jack said, softly. He motioned to himself with a wave and flutter of fingers.

In for a penny, in for a pound, James thought, refusing to back down. He twisted up onto his side, facing Jack and reached into his pouch, then grinned in smug satisfaction at how rapidly Jack responded to his touch.

When Jack's shaft was hard and arching proudly above his pouch, James felt Jack's hand back on himself. Jack moaned against his neck and squirmed closer and James suddenly felt the heated flesh of Jack's cock, pressed against his own.

He heard Jack hiss softly in his ear at the contact and looked down at his hand on Jack and Jack's on him, and oh, God. This just somehow seemed far more intimate than anything they had done before, being face to face, being able to look into each other's eyes, Christ, while their pricks were sliding wetly against each other. He looked back up at Jack.

James looked down and Jack ran his finger over and around the head of his own cock. When his finger glistened wetly, he lifted his hand and spread the fluid along James's bottom lip.

James caught his breath at the act, but then there was that smell, Jack's smell... and he sucked Jack's finger into his mouth.

He heard Jack gasp and looked up, still sucking on Jack's finger, and the look of desperate want on Jack's face was worth damn near anything.

He let Jack's finger slide from his mouth and he leaned close to kiss him, to let him taste himself on James's lips. Jack groaned deep in his throat and James broke the kiss to whisper in his ear, "I'm going to take you in my mouth, Jack..."

Jack whimpered and James whispered again, "I want you to suck me while I'm doing it."

They both lurched up, twisting and turning and struggling with thrashing tails until they were finally repositioned, cock to mouth and mouth to cock.

James was dizzy with the scent of Jack's prick. He stroked his hand down its length, pulled the foreskin back with his stroke and took the wet, shining head of it into his mouth. It was hotter and harder than he had imagined it would be, and he wrapped his hand around the knot and squeezed hard as he sucked him down.

He heard a harsh gasp and then felt Jack's lips on him, tentative at first, but James's own musky scent must have had the same affect on Jack, because he gave a strangled cry and then was sucking James's cock into his mouth as if it were some rare delicacy.

It was too much... too fast. James was already right there. He tightened his grip on Jack's shaft and tried to hold himself back, but Jack was right there too. Jack tensed, gasped out one long desperate-sounding mewl and then, suckling hard, he spent himself in James's mouth.

James had a stunned, breathtaking realization that he was swallowing down Jack's seed. He came hard, and for one heart-stopping moment, it felt like his entire tail was spending through his cock.

After a while, Jack lifted his head and James opened his eyes to find Jack looking down at him with a look of bemusement. James was still nestled beside Jack's spent cock. He turned his head and swiped his tongue along its length before looking back up at Jack and asking haughtily, "Something you wanted, Sparrow?"

Jack grinned and shook his head at him. "Swear ta God, James, I'd a never guessed you for the wanton that ya are."

"What say you to some lunch, luv," Jack asked, "while we make plans for our little trip?"

"There's still plenty of time to plan. We've still six days before Theo and the Pearl are due back here."

Jack lifted a finger to his chin and furrowed his brow while he counted off days with the fingers of his other hand. Finally he looked over at James and grinned. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean, not exactly, Jack?" James asked in exasperation, "I thought we agreed on a fortnight."

"Aye, luv, and if I'd struck that accord with you, I'd a kept to the bargain." He leaned over and gave James a quick kiss. "Really. But I don't know your Lieutenant Groves, mate, and I've no mind to have my Pearl show up to find your Dauntless waitin' for her."

James studied him silently for a moment before nodding his understanding. "When is she due, Jack?"

A Fish Tale

Chapter 8