Rags of Time
Part 13
by
Full headers in Chapter 1
Disclaimer: Not mine, none of it. Claim no ownership and make no money. I just like to play with them. Sorry!
Disclaimer: Not mine, none of it. Claim no ownership and make no money. I just like to play with them. Sorry!
James was determined to actually fish. Much to Jack's annoyance. On the second day, he insisted they take Jack's rowing boat to a quiet little cove out of sight of the main shipping routes.
"Are you incapable of sitting still for even a minute?" James asked with some exasperation.
"What do you mean?"
"Moving around like that will scare away the fish."
"No it won't."
"It will; they can hear the noise through the water."
"No they can't."
"Jack, please."
"If they can hear me, luv, where are their ears?"
"They don't—just please, just be still."
Jack rolled his eyes and sighed in compliance. He sat with his chin propped on his hand, rolling with the gentle bob of the waves against the boat. James brought in the line and cast it out again, a far too satisfied smile on his face. A very smug and far too silent smile. Which sparked an idea in Jack's mind.
"Don't know why you're chiding me, anyway. You're much louder than I am," he said through an exaggerated pout.
"Oh, really?" James laughed, turning to look at him over his shoulder. "Upon what twisted logic do you base that, then?"
"I wager," Jack said, silken voice sliding past his lips as he blinked slowly, leaning forward, "that I can be quiet as a mouse compared to you, luv."
"Well, I would certainly take you up on that bet, Jack, if only to get a little peace," James said, smiling as he turned back to face the water.
"Would you now," Jack said quietly. With swift, sinuous movements he slipped his way closer to James, managing to sway the little boat slightly on his way.
"Jack—what are you doing?" James asked with annoyance as Jack's legs and arms made their way around him, keeping his weight balanced equally somehow, until he crouched in the small space between James's knees in the cramped little bow of the boat, forcing James to hold the fishing rod in only one hand.
"Testin' the wager, luv," Jack replied, fingers sliding up the inside of James's thighs to slowly pluck at the buttons of his breeches.
"Don't you mean you're cheating at the wager?" James said frowning, trying to pass the rod over Jack's head to clasp it between both hands again.
"Pirate, luv." Jack smiled, rising up on his knees to prevent James's attempts at returning to his boring fishing. He slipped his fingers past the fastenings of James's breeches, pulling them open further. "It's what's expected."
With a sharply wicked smile he ducked his head, nuzzling his face into the dark warmth of James's crotch as he slipped his arms around the small of his back to tug him closer. James tensed but remained determinedly silent, even as one of Jack's hands slipped far back between his legs and fingers teasingly stroked the secrets there. James inhaled a slow deep breath as Jack smiled against his hardness, happy with his new game.
"So, luv," Jack said quietly, "you think all your Naval discipline is going to keep you quiet, hey?"
James only closed his eyes with a very put-upon look on his face, but rested the fishing rod against the floor of the rowing boat.
"You're so sure you can get the better of me," James whispered, more an observation than a question or challenge.
"Come now, luv," Jack said with silken tones. "I am the better of you."
With that his warm and self-assured smile wrapped itself around James's cock, tongue flat and pressing then sharp-tipped and stroking, twisting down until his nose touched James's hip. James's whole body stiffened as he gasped, determined not to make a sound, although he thought he may lose his control with undignified speed if Jack continued doing all sorts of unusual things with his mouth and lips. He braced himself against the sides of the boat, letting the fishing rod drop against the wood. He saw his knuckles whiten as he closed his eyes, felt the pressure building within him, and then Jack's hand slid up his shaft and fingers slipped passed his lips to join his tongue in some maddening dance in the heat and soft—
And Jack pushed him suddenly so he dropped back from the beam he'd been sitting on to tumble to the floor of the little boat, causing it to sway and bob violently for a few moments. James looked down and saw his hands still gripping the sides and Jack's head bobbing with the same rhythm as the sea, saw his legs splayed out and hooked over Jack's shoulders.
"That really is cheating," he whispered, somewhat breathless but still composed. "You pushed me, it doesn't count as me being noisy."
Jack only chuckled quietly, the vibrations of the sound around James's cock sending sharp bursts speeding up his insides to arch his neck back, a silent cry stifled in his mouth.
Jack's fingers slid back out from his mouth and their exploration of James's member while his tongue continued its teasing. Slicked fingers tripped down to slide gently into James. He managed to quiet the deep rumbling noise the action produced and relaxed into the familiar feeling of Jack inside him, the comfort of it suddenly vanishing as Jack's fingers twisted and pressed just there and kept pressing and releasing and sliding until he could almost see through his closed eyes the feeling of this exquisite knot building in him. Half desperate for the release and half wanting to just make this insanely intense feeling last he clenched his jaw tight, pushing his back down hard to stop himself from thrusting upwards.
Jack's free hand joined his mouth and gripped around his cock, stroking in time with the sucking and lapping of his tongue and pressing of his fingers inside James, sparking like embers and building with the heat in his chest and dizzying swirl in his head. He brought his hand to his mouth and bit down hard on the base of his palm to remain silent as he felt his body tensing one last time and his hips began to buck up into Jack's mouth and—
Jack pulled away and sat back on his heels suddenly, hands and fingers and mouth and tongue gone, leaving James a rumpled mess with legs splayed around him and the most bereft look of loss on his face, and a rather loud cry of dismay and need hanging in the air between them.
"Jack!" he cried, eyes wide and frowning.
"Told you," Jack replied with an evil smile, eyes dark with satisfaction.
"Jack, that is not even remotely fair!" he complained, still breathless.
"Whoever said I played fair, luv?" Jack said, walking his fingers back up James's thigh. "Now, what were the terms of our wager which I just won?"
"Terms?!"
"Aye. I'd say I could get you to agree to just about anything right now."
James felt his pride sting and stubbornness rise in him, telling him to protest. But it was eclipsed by his need to have this man make him feel all the things he had become addicted to feeling, that he yearned for more and more to the detriment of his better judgement and all the other things he had always held so important. He sighed heavily and let his head fall back to the wooden boards, his eyes stinging with the beginnings of frustrated tears.
"You think so," he said quietly through an ironic smile. The emotion in his voice was disguised by his desire so that Jack wouldn't hear it. "And what is it you would ask of me?"
"No more fishin'." Jack said in a serious tone.
James laughed at that, forcing back the tears so that Jack would not know they were ever there. He raised his head again with a shallow smile.
"That's it?" he asked. "No fishing?"
"It's so boring, luv, please no more of it, ay?" Jack said, almost pleading and bringing his hands together as though in prayer.
"Christ, Jack, yes then. No more bloody fishing, but please God get on and finish what you started."
Jack grinned like a child and pounced forward, taking up exactly where he'd left off. James's body stiffened as he let his mouth give up the sounds he'd been holding back, gasps and moans and whispers of Jack's name mumbled as he felt himself crash, spilling himself into Jack's throat and grinding down on those clever fingers, the piercing heat of his orgasm all the sharper for the time he'd been made to wait for it.
Afterwards Jack slid up his body and kissed him gently.
"Knew you'd see it my way, luv," he said, making to jump up and grab for the oars. "Let's get back to shore, ay?"
"Wait," James stammered, pulling him close again. "Just—just wait here a minute."
Jack looked at him questioningly, but allowed himself to be tugged closer and rested his head against James's shoulder.
"All right, love," he said, letting his fingers twist in a lock of James's hair. "We'll wait here a bit then."
James stared at the sky above them. Thoughts of how much he wanted to hold Jack's body to him, to keep him near, to never have to be apart from him; the feelings welled in his chest and sighed out of him and into Jack's mess of hair where James nuzzled his face to it.
The days passed blessedly slowly for James, punctuated by moments of Jack. He woke one morning to the clattering of pans on the little stove as Jack made scotch pancakes and melted down an ostentatiously large block of sugar to make a syrup.
James sat up on the bed rubbing his eyes sleepily. He watched as Jack made exaggerated gestures spooning out the batter onto the hot pan, cussing under his breath as he realised he'd neglected to stir the sugar pan and muttering thanks to some heathen god that it hadn't burnt.
"Jack, what are you doing?" he asked with a smile.
"Ah!" Jack exclaimed, spinning round and nearly knocking something over. He beamed back and winked at James. "Was tryin' not to wake you, but never mind. Breakfast!"
James chuckled as Jack went back to his task. He lay back down and propped his head on his elbow, content to watch as Jack carried on chatting and making odd noises as he almost dropped things. He sashayed his way over to the bed, hands and arms overloaded with the plate of pancakes and pan of sugar and bottle of rum and a stool to put it all on.
He sat on the bed, arranging everything haphazardly on the stool, pausing with palms raised towards the objects to persuade them to stay upright. Then he turned, smiled at James and leant forward quickly to kiss him.
"Mornin', luv."
"Good morning." James smiled quietly, then poured a spoonful of caramel on a pancake. "These are good," he said through a sticky mouthful.
"Course they are." Jack dramatically halted James's chewing with a finger poised in the air, and then grabbed at something hidden in the back of his sash. His hands reappeared with an apple in each, rolling one down his forearm to toss at James with a flick of his elbow. "Just like your old dear cook used to make, I'm sure."
James tried not to think about the expression Cook would have worn were she to have seen exactly what he and Jack got up to with the remaining caramel when they had their fill of pancakes and apples.
James was dreaming. There were only images, flashes of feelings. He was falling, trying to grab at something. Trying to grab Jack's hand as he fell too.
He woke up suddenly with a start, gasping himself awake. The bed was empty beside him, but the sheet was still warm. It was mid-morning, the sun streamed in through the window, bringing stifling Caribbean heat with it. He sat up, picked his breeches up from the floor and put them on along with a shirt. He noticed Jack's bandanna by the door.
He went outside and saw a trail of various bits of Jack's attire leading toward where the hill fell away steeply towards the sea. Smiling at the clues he'd been left he began to follow.
James walked to the ridge of the hill and looked down. There was a little cove around from the small bay that became isolated from the sea when the tide was out, creating a calm temporary lagoon. He saw Jack's lithe body slipping through the water there, tanned and naked and glistening as he broke the surface, throwing his head back as he rose making an arc of hair and sparks of sun reflecting on the trinkets, drops of water spraying out behind him. He hadn't seen James yet, but he was laughing out loud with delight. James frowned and smiled, made his way quietly down towards him jumping from rock to rock.
Jack went back underwater again and swam toward the rock face, darting into the seaweed that clung there. Silver slivers raced before him, and James laughed as he realised Jack was chasing the fish trapped there by the retreating tide.
Jack didn't see him until he was near the edge, and swam towards him beaming.
"James!" he spluttered, pulling himself up on a rock high enough to kiss him before sinking back down again. "Jump in, come on. I've seen dolphins do it, we can herd the fishes."
"I thought you said no more fishing," James replied teasingly.
"It's not fishin', luv, it's fun. Come on."
"Perhaps I'll just watch you from here," said James, sitting down on a smooth rock a foot or so above the water. Jack gave him a playfully sullen pout and frown before grabbing hold of James's arms and tugging him into the water with a very large splash.
"Jack!" he shouted as he surfaced surrounded by hands and arms and splashing. "These are the only breeches I have with me!"
"Really? That's a real shame, luv," Jack said, smiling wickedly.
"As well you know it," James glared, raking his hair back from his face.
"Well, we'll just have to wait in this lovely little private ocean here 'til they dry," said Jack, hands disappearing under the water to tug at the buttons. "Won't we, hey?"
They sat together on a smooth rock and wrung out the clothes. Jack flicked water at James. James laughed despite himself, and threw his shirt to slap wetly against Jack's chest. He lay the clothes out to dry in heat of the midday sun and followed Jack into the water.
James felt like his world was imploding—his mind seemed like it was slipping from him, replaced with nothing but feeling and force and pressure, the sharp intensity building deep beneath his stomach, arching his spine as the moaning and gasps and cries choked from him. He gripped the bedsheet tighter and braced his knees firmly against the mattress, pushed back against Jack's thrusts and heard him growl as he dug his fingers deeper around James's hips, pulling him back hard. He couldn't see Jack's face, but he knew that sound was made through half snarled lips baring teeth as his breath hissed back in, frowning with want and need and holding back to keep James's body spiraling steeper towards a higher drop. The knowledge of that expression pushed him there.
"Jack, God please, pleasenowpleaseplease—"
Jack leant forward instantly, scooping an arm around James's waist while his other hand took hold of James's cock, hard, stroking fiercely in time with his movements. Jack cried out as he felt James's body tense and spasm around him, as James's shoulders dropped to the bed and he shouted the noises of his release, as Jack found his too.
James's breathing stalled, staggered as he tried to force control over his body again and stop himself from shaking. Jack leant forward, slowly resting his chest against James's back, running his fingers feather-light over his arms to brush his shoulders.
"You all right, love?" he whispered.
James nodded into the mattress, made some noise to go with the gesture. Jack stayed there for long moments catching his breath, stayed inside James as he stood back up again and began to stroke his fingers down and up and over James's back, slipping around his hips and over his stomach and chest to repeat the movements over his back again.
"That feels good," James said into the linen after a few minutes. He stretched his body out to lay on his front, dislodging himself from Jack and turning to tug Jack's wrists down with him. Jack collapsed on the bed beside him, nudged closer to kiss James long and slow and gentle. Jack tasted of rum and sugar and the sea. James wrapped his arms around him, pulled him close and closed his eyes.
The lamplight was soft, made Jack's skin seem to glow. He lay on his side in front of James on the bed, hair splayed out about them on the pillow. The warmth of the night had made Jack kick the sheet off them to lay bunched up around their feet. Jack's back tensed slightly as he shifted his hips, muscles taut then slack beneath tanned, marked skin. James stroked fingertips over his shoulder blades, gently followed the curve of his side until it rose with his pelvis, cupped the sharp bones there before tracing the same path back up again. Jack murmured a contented noise sleepily, his shoulders pushed back into James's hand.
James's fingers tripped gently over the rise and fall and dip of countless scars and marks; some bold and obvious, though many more near indistinguishable from the skin and from each other. Like the sky in the clearest night—barely a shard of black that does not contain some dim hint of a distant star. He traced the raised edges of Jack's Chinese dragon, inked into the skin as though he'd been born with it there. He stroked the billowing beard, sharp teeth bared in a vicious snarl, clawed foot grasping a dark globe, tail looping around beneath to wrap around it for further protection.
"Careful, luv, 'e bites," Jack said quietly with a smile.
"I thought you were asleep," James whispered softly.
"Not sleepin'. Just dreamin'."
"What's this sphere he holds?" James asked absently, swirling his finger around it.
"It's a pearl."
"But it's dark, it's black."
"Exactly."
"Oh. Of course."
Jack rolled onto his back, eyes half open as he leant forward to kiss James with lips soft and thick and sleepy.
"I was just dreamin' of my lady-love," he said quietly.
"I think you have far too strong an attachment to that bloody boat, Jack," James replied, brushing a stray lock of hair from Jack's forehead.
"Are you jealous, luv?" Jack asked quietly.
"Don't be ridiculous," said James. "If I were to be jealous of anything you own it would be your freedom. Nothing else."
"But she is that. Precisely that, luv," said Jack, eyelids heavy and fluttering closed then open again.
"How can a ship be freedom? A ship is only as free as the man who sails her. It doesn't matter which ship I sail on, she would never be free under my hand," James said, his voice plain despite the sadness in his words.
"It's a choice, luv. You could choose it if you wanted to." Jack closed his eyes again, but brought a hand to rest heavily on James's hip. "You could leave the Navy, leave Port Royal. Sail away with me and my girl."
"Now that truly is ridiculous, Jack," James said as though talking to a child who was describing fairy stories. "Asking that of me is like asking you to give up your freedom, take a Letter of Marque or some such. You would do that no more than I would leave the Navy."
"You take your freedom where you can find it, Jamie. I'd have taken that letter of yours if I'd have thought it the only option."
James's breath caught in his throat at that. He stared in sudden disbelief down at Jack's half sleeping face. Jack seemed to notice the heavy silence then. It roused him with a frown to look up at James.
"What did you just say?" James asked. Jack smiled then, closed his eyes again before he continued.
"Freedom's worth dyin' for, luv, but not if you've got another option. You can live without your freedom for a time and fight to get it back, but freedom's no good to the dead."
"But, you said—I remember. You quoted some theologian. You said you couldn't parcel it out, it was all or nothing, that you couldn't give up your freedom and get it back whole again."
Jack chuckled quietly, half opened his eyes and smiled at the shocked and puzzled look on James's face.
"You didn't want to kill me. Or have me die by your hand. If I'd thought you meant to offer me the letter or have me hang if I'd refused, then I'd have taken it. We're all free once we're dead, luv, but it's a bit beside the point by then. I knew a conscientious man such as yourself would have at least one more plan up 'is sleeve. I just had to pick the lesser of the two evils."
James was silent for long minutes, staring in disbelief at Jack's sleepy face. How could this man constantly flip his world upside down as easily as flipping a coin, and then look upon the chaos he'd wrought as though it was nothing more than a sleight of hand. James had never thought himself transparent or particularly predictable, at least not in his negotiations and business. Yet Jack seemed to have seen through him with more ease than should have been humanly possible.
"You would have taken the letter," James said blankly. Jack looked up at him then, narrowed his eyes to focus more clearly through the dim light. "Do you have any idea how much trouble I went through to arrange your escape—the mess I had to face afterwards, the explanations I had to give and accusations I had to face?"
"Aye, but I was worth it wasn't I?" Jack said with a wink and rose up on his elbows to steal a kiss.
James barked a hollow laugh of disbelief and lay down on the bed. Jack turned on his side and pressed another kiss to James's cheek.
"You are unbelievable," James said blankly.
"Unbelievably clever?" Jack chirped.
"No."
"Unbelievably beautiful?"
"No."
"Unbelievably lovable?"
"No."
"Oh come, luv," Jack sat, pulling himself up and sitting heavily on James's stomach, straddling his hips. "Sulking doesn't suit you, you know." He leant forward and kissed him, forcing James's lips to respond in kind with a flickering tongue.
Jack pulled back slightly, met James's eyes. James stared into their depths, made darker by the dim light. He didn't understand why he was angry, or, more to the point, didn't understand why his anger was not based on the consequences arranging Jack's escape so many months before had had on his reputation and wider career. The Governor's report had stated that event as the beginning in a seemingly long list of misdemeanors and offenses. Yet that was not why he was angry.
Maybe it was because he'd been played a fool. By a man who made a living out of playing the fool himself. Although he doubted it.
No. He was angry because Jack had seen through him so easily when he hadn't expected it, seemed to have such insight into the workings of his mind when James didn't want him to. Yet seemed blind to the havoc he was wreaking in James's life, the changes in James that seemed to be threatening everything he had worked for since he was a young man. And he cursed himself for feeling that way, felt like a hysterical woman, unable to keep a check on his emotions.
But there was Jack—perched on his stomach with placating fingers skipping across his chest to stroke his tense jaw, slip up to brush through his hair. Jack's eyes full of something that looked a lot more than lust or affection, his mouth curving in his gilded smile as he leant forward, lips so gentle on James's that it made his breath catch in his throat.
"Don't be mad, luv," Jack whispered softly into his mouth. "T'was before I knew you as I do now."
"Would you do the same now?" James asked, pushing Jack's shoulders back so he could see his face.
"Would you?"
James stared at him, his eyes harder than he realised. Jack only met his gaze, silently challenging him. Something unspoken in his expression, the way his lips pulled back a little too tightly. Would you really ask it of me, James? Would you really want to hear the answer?
"You think you know me so well," James said with quiet bitterness, inadvertently tightening his grip on Jack's shoulders.
"Course, luv. Inside and out," Jack said flippantly, grinding his arse against James's crotch with a comical leer on his face.
James leapt up from the bed, bucking Jack off him and pushing him away to tumble into the wall.
"You are incapable of taking anything seriously," James said with quiet rage in his voice. He grabbed his breeches and angrily forced them on. "Just once Jack—Jack bloody Sparrow—just for once can you not take something seriously!"
"Jamie, what the hell is the matter with you?" Jack demanded, picking himself up from where he'd been dropped against the bed, sparks of anger flaming in his eyes.
"Everything to you is nothing but a bit of fun, a jolly game to pass the time until your next adventure!" James snatched his overcoat from the back of the chair and stuffed himself into it, cutting Jack off short each time he opened his mouth to protest as he stood and walked closer to James. "And you think nothing of the people whose lives you trample on the way! It doesn't matter to you that you leave a wake behind you like a storm, you just take the pretty bits of treasure for yourself and swan off to the horizon and forget what you may have destroyed in the process!"
Jack stared open-mouthed at the onslaught, uncomfortable with the sharp bitterness in James's voice, the angry sarcasm that betrayed some deeper feeling. His own anger faded somewhat, but not enough to follow James to the door as he made to leave.
"But what else can be expected of you?" James spat with venom, swinging open the door and leaving with a mocking bow. "You are, as you love to remind me, a pirate."
James slammed the door shut behind him, and it was only then that Jack moved toward it. He opened the door again and stuck his head out, saw James storming toward the ridge in the moonlight. He took a breath to shout something after him, but the words stalled on his tongue and he only slammed the door again with a frustrated growl.
James sat on a rock far back from where the ridge fell away to the cliff. The air was cooler here by the shore, cooler than by the harbour in the town. The waves broke and hissed on the beach below, fizzed against the rocks. He listened to the silence as each breaker rose, before it crashed gently, chasing itself along the length of sand. The sand shone grey and white as the water retreated, faded from slick wet to dull. James felt something like despair welling in his chest, cold fingers around his heart that tightened until he forced it back, rubbed his face in his hands and pushed it down until it ebbed away gently like the tide.
The sea was still tonight, slow as it rolled softly to peaks in the moonlight. Silver ruffles bouncing on her surface. Jack was actually sending him mad. Or rather, his own unhinged emotions were sending him mad. And the fact that Jack, despite his uncanny ability to seemingly know a man's inner thoughts, was unaware of what was obvious to the men under James's command, and those above it.
Yet he knew he would not tell Jack what was actually happening, the extent that his weakness was eroding away his capabilities. Pride and stubbornness would prevent him from doing so, the indignity in admitting to Jack that he was losing his ability to cope. And of course, the fear of the effect that knowledge may have. He could not help but think that Jack would simply vanish, were he to know the truth of what was happening. It would feel too much like an attempt to control him, to clip his wings. The only way to settle the situation was to ensure Jack was no longer a threat to the Crown. In short—no longer a pirate. Remove his liberties, stop him floating in and out of James's life on the breeze, able to have what he wanted and leave with the dawn. He imagined that trying to take that from Jack would feel like a trap to him. Like trying to catch a wasp in a jar.
He heard Jack's boots scuffing the ground behind him. Jack sat down heavily beside him on the rock, his battered coat pulled tight around him. He was silent for a while, following James's gaze out to sea, towards the horizon.
"The world's serious enough, luv," he said quietly, as though there had been no gap in their conversation. "Why make it more so, hey?"
James turned to look at him, his face silhouetted against the night sky. He had never heard him speak in such an open tone. He tried to see his expression, but in the dimness could only make out the flash of his eyes reflecting the silver light, the shimmer of his lips as he made to speak but instead took a breath. The sparkle of the trinkets in this hair like constellations. James remained silent, not trusting his voice.
Jack sighed, began to examine his nails despite the darkness. He twisted the rings on his fingers, spun one around full circle.
"You're mad at me."
James laughed despite himself, at the absurdity of the statement.
"And you won't tell me why," Jack continued. "I only know what it's not. It's not because I lied to you the best part of a year ago to convince you I've more honour than I do. It's not because of all the trouble that little lie of mine caused you. And it's not because you think I don't take things seriously enough. That's one of my most endearing qualities, luv."
James snorted another laugh at that, lowering his gaze to the ground beneath him, to the cold grass beneath his toes. Jack put a hand on his knee, fingers circling beneath.
"Mutiny is serious. So's runnin' out of rum at sea. Or water, I suppose." His fingers traced feather light patterns around James's knee. He sighed quietly. "Serious is seein' a man hang for stealin' food to feed his kiddies. Then seein' the kiddies hang or shipped out to the ends of the Earth for tryin' to feed themselves. Serious is growin' up a whore's son in a brothel not fit for the rats that live there, or bein' worked in the plantation all day worse than cattle, while the mistress's dog has its own cushion by the fire. There's too much of that in the world, Jamie. You've just to take what you can get and try to do right by it."
James let the words settle on him, felt their weight in his stomach like lead.
"You and I live in two different worlds, Jack," he said softly. "And the two shall never align."
"Perhaps not, luv," Jack replied, putting his arm around James's waist. "But they can collide."
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