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A Sure Cure for Drowning
BY: Melusina*** Will is fooling about in the rigging,
trying out a
trick he'd seen Jack use during their last raid, when the Black Pearl unexpectedly lurches and bucks and he loses his balance and plummets into the ocean. He hits the water with a sharp sting and a loud splash. Cold water envelopes him, salt burns his eyes and nose, and then he's kicking his feet and pushing his way up to the surface. Just as his head breaks through the water, there's a sleek, slippery movement beside him. Half a beat later, Jack's head surfaces, black kohl streaking down his cheeks and water beading in his hair. "Thought you were a goner, mate." "I *can* swim, Jack. You know that." "Aye, but I've seen a man take a fall like that and knock hisself out. Can't swim if you're not awake." Will isn't sure if he should be flattered that Jack cares enough to dive in after him, or insulted that Jack thinks he needs looking after. A rope goes over the side of the Pearl and Will follows Jack up. Jack's shirt is wet and clinging to the muscles bunching in his lean back. Through the damp cloth Will can see the vague outlines of tattoos. There's a dark smudge on Jack's shoulder that looks like it might be a mermaid - or maybe a fish? And *that* one is definitely a compass. Will wonders when he started paying so much attention to Jack's back. They repair to their cabins to dry off and change clothes. Will moves stealthily to avoid waking Elizabeth. Lately, she's always asleep. And no matter how much sleep she gets, she always seems tired and cranky. She's angry with him, and he's not sure why, although he's beginning to think it may have something to do with the way her body has softened and gone to fat. He wonders what in God's name they'll do with- But best not to borrow trouble. After all, Elizabeth hasn't mentioned anything, so perhaps he's just imagining it. Leaving his cabin, he runs into Jack - literally. Will stumbles and almost falls arse over teakettle, but Jack catches his arm and stops his fall. "Fancy a drop to take the chill off?" Now *that* is a brilliant idea. "Don't mind if I do." Jack makes a wide, sweeping gesture towards his open cabin door. A bottle appears and then its contents disappear rather quickly, as Jack demonstrates that he has a very loose definition of the word "drop." "What you need, love, is an earring." "A what?" "An earring - it's a sure cure for drowning. Stops it every time. 'Sides, you need something to give you a bit of panache. Tattoo, earring, a bit of flash. I'm not so good at tattoos, but I'm a dab hand at piercing." Before Will can articulate a protest, Jack is on his feet, rummaging in a drawer in his desk. He pulls out a dangerously long needle, of the sort used to mend the sails. A bit more digging produces a gold hoop and a gaudy purple rag that might once have been a scarf. Jack turns back to Will and Will holds his hands up in a warding gesture. "Jack, I'm not sure about this-" "What are you, a man or a eunuch? Have another drink and you'll not feel a thing." Jack's standing in front of Will now, with his head cocked and eyes narrowed. He takes Will's head in his hands and tilts it back and forth. Jack's fingers are rough on Will's skin, and there's something disconcerting about the way he's moving Will's body about like a puppet. Making a decision, Jack twists Will's head further to the right. "Hold still." Jack wads up the rag and stuffs it behind Will's ear. Jack's face is fixed in concentration, the pink tip of his tongue held in the corner of his slightly open mouth. As quick as thought, he stabs the needle though Will's ear lobe and into the cloth behind. Will expects the pain. The surprise is the bolt of lust that accompanies it, shooting straight to his groin. He feels his eyes widen and his pulse quicken. There's a trickle of blood running down his neck. Jack swipes at it with the rag, his breath warm on Will's ear. Then Jack's fumbling with the earring and sliding it into place. A little tug - and that shouldn't feel *good*, should it? - then Jack stands back admiring his work with a self-satisfied smirk. "Quite dashing, if I do say so m'self." Perhaps Will's had more rum than he realized. Perhaps the fall has turned his head. Perhaps having a hole in your ear is like having a hole in your head, and all the sense leaks out - which explains a lot about Jack, actually. Whatever it is, Will's out of the chair and pouncing on Jack before he can change his mind. There's a momentary look of shock on Jack's face and then he's tilting his head back, opening his mouth and letting Will kiss him for all he's worth. Jack's mouth is hot and wet and his mustache is tickly and the kiss is dirty and sinful and enticing. Then Will's mouth is moving down Jack's neck, nipping and tasting. Jack tastes like he smells: salt, and the alcohol he's sweated out of his skin, and something sharp and metallic. Jack's head drops backwards and his hands are pulling on Will's clothes, untucking his shirt, loosening his breeches, and then, oh, Jack's hand is on him - callused palm rubbing on him and then a finger reaches behind and *that's* different and altogether very nice. In between moans, Will says,"*God*, that's good." Jack's voice is smug, right next to Will's ear. "Not God, love, just Captain Jack Sparrow." Jack's mouthing the earring, catching it in his teeth and licking the sensitized flesh around it. The pleasure and pain combined send chills through Will's body. Jack's hand becomes a bit more insistent and Will belatedly realizes that he probably should be returning the favor. He hurriedly unlaces Jack's breeches and reaches inside, not sure exactly how to do this, but he's done it for himself and how different can it be? Will's first tentative stroke elicits a lovely guttural groan. He grasps a bit harder and moves his hand faster and Jack's breathing becomes ragged and uneven. They fall into a rhythm, their hands moving swiftly together, panting breath and pounding hearts keeping time. Jack's moaning into Will's shoulder, biting him through the fabric of his shirt. If Jack keeps making those amazing noises, Will won't last long, and then Jack says his name, "*Will*." Something cracks inside him and he's spending himself all over Jack's hand and he hears himself, as though from a long way off, saying Jack's name in that same stricken tone. And then Jack is coming as well, spurting hot and sticky in Will's hand and letting out a sobbing moan that makes Will's cock give one last twitch. Will's grinning like an idiot and he leans into Jack, pressing his forehead against Jack's and looking into those glittering dark eyes, not sure what to say now. Jack recovers first, pulling his hand out of Will's breeches and licking his fingers like a cat, his eyes full of lewd promises. And Will thinks that his earring must not be working properly, because he's damn sure drowning now, and there's no help for it at all. -End- |
