"Jack, get off me," Will's voice sounded strained
and Jack Sparrow grinned as he tilted the rum-bottle
up for another swig. "Dammit, Jack, I mean it!"
   "Nay, whelp, not yet. There's still another mast
and three sheets t' go 'fore we're through here. My,
Marc, but you do lovely work."
   "Merci," The tattoo artist replied as he cocked his
head and studied Jack's left breast where the Pearl
was tattooed then glanced down at the lovely round ass
upraised before him. Most of the Pearl was there on
the right cheek, he just had to finish the last little
bit and it would be complete.
   "Jack, you weigh a ton!" Will grumbled as he tried
to shift a bit to get more comfortable. It had not
been his idea to get a tattoo. His Captain had
insisted.
   "Do not, love. Ah, but this is a lovely bit here,"
He felt Jack's hand trail down along his spine then
along the cleft between the naked buttocks. 
   "Get your hands off, Sparrow, or you won't be
touching that again�as a whole man," Will snarled. 
   Jack's grin broadened. "You're the one who wanted
it here, mate. Remember?"
   Will pushed up suddenly and Jack let out a little
"Whoa!" The blacksmith was a strong man but 150 pounds
sitting on your back for over 2 hours could get
tiresome for even the strongest, most enthusiastic of
tattoo seekers. Will certainly did not fall into the
"enthusiastic" category at the best of times. Worse,
it had been Jack's notion that Marc needed his tattoo
of the Pearl to get things perfect so he had to sit
atop Will so Marc had the best view. "I was
protesting!!"
   For a moment, Jack thought about that. It was
certainly possible. He brought Will into Marc LaPeau's
shop on the pretense that he wanted another tattoo.
When he told Will, he was going to get a tattoo of the
Pearl somewhere on his anatomy, Will said, "But-but .
. ." Naturally, Jack took him at his word. Will being
a little drunk and Jack being a lot more, the ensuing
struggle for the destiny of Will's unmarred personage
was a tad unfair. Jack, of course, had won, being both
in his element and deeper in his cups.
   Now, though, Jack was finding himself in the mood
for some sweet William but Will was still put out. He
trailed his hand down the crack again only, this time,
Marc slapped his hand away. "What did ye do that fer?"
   "Vous ferez la marque lui se d�place trop beaucoup
de et ruine l'image, comprendre?// You will make him
move too much, understand?" Marc scowled then dropped
the needle in his hand to the table nearby and picked
up a sharper one. When he finished a line of
needle-marks, he then swabbed the ink over them before
moving on. 
   Jack sighed. "Ye're lucky, whelp. Marc's only usin'
one color on ye. When I got my samurai, Chung had t'
use 6 different colors. It was quite the experience."
   Will sighed heavily. "If I go to sleep, it's your
own fault."
   Jack wiggled his eyebrows at Marc. "If he falls
asleep, can you tattoo 'Property of Jack Sparrow' on
the other side?"
   "Don't you dare!" Will growled again, this time
slightly muffled because he didn't raise up to speak.
"One tattoo is enough for this pirate, do you
understand?"
   Jack's grin turned into a smile of genuine
affection. "Aye, sir. You jus' rest up, love. I got
plans fer you when I get ye back to the Pearl, savvy?"
   Will snorted derisively but, feeling exhausted, he
drifted off to sleep after a few moments. He did trust
Jack after all. 
                          X
   Will woke with Jack's mouth affixed to his ear. He
could still feel the effects of alcohol in his system
and it made him a little woozy. They were in a bed but
not on the Pearl. Will could feel his skin rub against
the linen sheets and realized he was as naked as Jack
was. Being in bed, though, and in some state between
full awareness and dead-asleep, that was acceptable.
He turned toward Jack, who was also asleep, and tossed
his arm over the pirate. He had to grin when he
spotted Jack's bird over the sunset tattoo. When he
saw a matching tattoo on his own arm, the grin faded
and he woke up.
   "Jack, you arrogant, conniving, sneaking fraud!"
   "Not so loud, sweetie, ye'll wake the neighbors,"
Jack muttered in his sleep, patting at Will as if to
calm him down.
   "WAKE UP!" Will could stand it no more. He sat up
and realized that he had Jack's face emblazoned on his
naked chest, his nipples Jack's pupils. Worse, both of
his upper arms were covered with the words "Jack
Sparrow's property � do not touch" in what Will could
only guess was every language Jack knew�which meant
Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, French, Chinese, Japanese
and a few that Will didn't have a clue about. "Jack,
what have you done?"
   Jack opened one eye. "Sorry, love, not now. Li'l
Jack needs a bit o' rest."
   "No, you damned pirate, wake up and explain to me
why I look�like this!"
   Gingerly, Jack raised himself on an elbow. "It goes
like this, love. Yer father an' I sailed int' London
on a May mornin' about 22 years ago. Things were
pretty bad fer us at the time so--."
   "No, no, no, I mean 'this', all these tattoos. You
said I could trust you, Jack!" 
   "And you could! What�ye don't like my taste in
artwork?" Jack cocked his head to one side, openly
admiring the way Marc had scaled the face on Will's
front so that his mustache coincided nicely with the
trail of hair on Will's lower abdomen.
   "Jack, how could you do this? I-I feel so
violated," Will began to pout and Jack couldn't fight
the leer that popped onto his face at the sight. 
   "Violated, eh?" Jack leaned over and began to lap
at one of Marc's exquisite renderings of his eyeball.
Will started to pull away at first, but Jack put steel
into the grip he had around Will's waist. "Such a
pity. All that fine work gone to waste."
   Will, beginning to respond, moaned softly and
leaned back on the pillows. "How can you say that?
Just because I don't�Wait, where'd your eye go?"
   Jack raised his head and stuck out his tongue.
Instead of ruddy pink, his tongue was a charcoal
color. "Here. Marc wouldn't let me have the needle so
all I got t' do was paint ye up nice and pretty. He
helped put me face on but I insisted on doin' the
'sword-work' alone, savvy? Wait 'til ye see how pretty
me pistol can be in the right spot."
   When Jack raised the covers, Will could see for
himself that the drawing on his manhood was a very
detailed rendering of the pistol Jack had killed
Barbossa with. Feeling suddenly much happier, he
glanced up at Jack with a naughty gleam in his eye.
   "Somehow, Jack, I have the feeling it's time for
you to 'bite the bullet.'"
   Jack beamed. "I'm sure ye don't mean that
literally, eh?"
   For a moment, Will considered. "No, I guess not.
But I've got to get cleaned up somehow, and since you
did this, you're responsible for the mess. Savvy?"
   Jack leaned back and snagged a half-full rum bottle
from the floor. "Cleanin's hard work without the
proper solvent. Hold still, love."
   Will made a little gasping noise when the rum
dribbled across his nether regions then a much bigger
gasping noise when Jack began his appointed chore. He
could tell that Jack would end up with as much ink on
himself as on Will when this was done. And that would
be the perfect excuse for a real bath. The two of
them. Together.