Marooned, 1
In Which Jack is Found
by
Gloria Mundi
Pairing: Various: slash and het, real and imaginary.
Rating: up to NC-17
Disclaimer: Characters in this story are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer, Johnny Depp and the Disney Corporation: I see no profit in this for me, nor is any gain or claim intended.
Archive: No thanks, Imagin'd Glories only. [Archived on Horizon with permission]
Originally Posted: 1/01/05
Beta: Thanks to fabu for splendid beta, and tessabeth for Gentle Persuasion!
Warning: Het, if you need warning about that sort of thing. AU.
Summary: Set somewhat after the events of the movie, in a world whose history isn't quite the same as our own. When everything you loved is gone, what's left? Duty, honour, dreams, dust ...
Really, it was remarkably lucky that Will and Elizabeth had managed to find him here. But after all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow: maybe there was no luck to it after all, but just a good story telling itself so that he didn't have to make up very much. For they'd found him, after all: their ship stood out in the bay, though he was far too comfortable here to raise his head and look at her. He was lying with his head in Elizabeth's lap, and her husband refilling his cup as soon as he drained it. Good rum, too: none of your watered-down molasses and rat turds, but the sort of thing the quality drank, when they took it into their minds to slum it for an evening.
Elizabeth's hand stroked over his face, lingering on his mouth. "Jack," she crooned, "I thought we'd never see you again!"
"We missed you, Jack. Life was simply too dull in Port Royal without you." Will was smiling at him affectionately. Very affectionately. His hand lingered on Jack's as he passed another cupful of rum to the pirate captain.
"Well, you're here now," said Jack brightly. "We should celebrate!"
"Oh, yes," cooed Elizabeth as she leant down to kiss him. Jack suffered this indignity bravely, for quite a while: her mouth tasted cool and sweet, and her tongue moved promisingly against his. But eventually he had to peel her away.
"Patience, love," he said gently. "What of your poor husband?"
And then Will was kissing him too, all fierce and fiery with his tongue invading Jack's mouth and his hands making short work of Jack's loose, tattered shirt. Jack moaned into the kiss, unable to keep from thrusting his hips up against Will's as his friend sprawled half over him: they must have been crushing poor Elizabeth, but she never complained, just carried on stroking and teasing with her soft white hands.
Faster than he expected, she'd twisted around somehow and those hands were at his breeches and then on his cock, and he groaned into Will's kiss.
"Careful, love, or it'll go off in your hand," he moaned. Will's mouth was working over the scars on his chest, and Elizabeth was looking at him triumphantly as she, oh, she'd been learning from her husband right enough. Jack yelled and convulsed, and every nerve in his body glowed brightly for an instant.
Elizabeth was licking her hand. "Tastes so good," she murmured indistinctly. "Will, I need ..."
But Jack was tired—there'd been something creeping along the beach, dragging its scaly tail and keeping him awake, last night—and he wasn't really in the mood for more. He banished the Turners with a chuckle and sat up.
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