Title: Spite and Revenge

Authors: Creed Cascade and SassyInkPen

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean

Pairing: Jack Sparrow/Will Turner

Rating: NC-17

Status: new

Archive: If you want it, go ahead. Just knock me upside the head and let me know.

Feedback: creed_cascade@hotmail.com and sassyinkpen@yahoo.com

Other websites: http://insaneasylum.slashfanfiction.com

Disclaimers: We have a "don't ask, don't tell" policy. You don't ask where we get these strange plots starring mysteriously familiar characters, and we won't tell you that I make no money, only deliriously happy satisfaction. Very hush-hush.

Summary: Sweet and dark animosity between Jack and Will.


Spite and Revenge
By Creed Cascade and SassyInkPen


Will groaned and rolled off the bed, sinking to his hands and knees and not bothering to get up. Instead, he crawled across the floor, sifting through the empty liquor bottles looking for one that had a little more to offer. There were apple cores littering the boards, along with bones from various cuts of meat, cigar butts and odds and ends of clothing, some his, some belonging to others.

"Why the hell doesn't somebody clean this dump up?" he mumbled, voice growing louder as he spoke, until he was yelling, "This is supposed to be an INN!!"

A tsking at the door made him look up to see a young woman standing in the doorway. She shook her head, "This ain't an inn, luv... it's a brothel. And I'm pretty sure you know that damn well, seeing as you've bedded almost every girl in the place. Not to mention the chamber boy, and he was none too happy about that, I can tell you."

Will waved her off. It couldn't have been that many, but he'd not really been paying attention in the past many weeks. It didn't matter anyway... as long as it was enough to piss off Jack. The bastard.

"And the reason no one cleans the room anymore," she said, working up to a full scolding, "…is that whenever any of us comes in here to do it, you either scream at them or throw them on the bed."

"Wha's wrong with that?" asked Will, tossing another bottle aside. "Isn't that what you're here for?" He spied a half full bottle that had rolled under the bed and wedged himself in after it. Backing out with his prize, he reached up to grasp the windowsill and hoisted his body up, swaying slightly. He pulled the cork with his teeth and spit it out the window. Then he froze. There in the dim evening light he saw, out in the bay, the unmistakable silhouette of a ship... and the black sails furled on her booms.

"That bloody bastard..." Will seethed. He was still angry, even weeks after the vicious fight that ended when Jack set sail without warning and left him behind on Tortuga.

"You fucking POUF!!!" he screeched out the open window, "If you think you can just march back in here and expect me to be ready and waiting you can bloody well rot in HELL!"

The woman at the door rushed forward, "Oi! That's enough of that. We can't have you screamin' out the windows and stirrin' up a lot o' bother. Get back in here. Why don't you have a nice bath." She added this last with a wrinkled nose.

Will resisted her attempts to pull him away from the window at first, but finally relented, looping a long arm about her shoulders and leaning heavily on her. "Why don't you *give* me a bath..." he grinned sloppily, pulling her onto the bed. "A tongue bath..."

*

“Whore’s son!” Jack spat as they finally sailed into the port of Tortuga. The Black Pearl’s sails rustled as if in agreement with him. “Bloody bastard.”

“Technically, Mr. Turner isn’t a bastard, sir,” Mr. Gibbs pointed out. “You know ol’ Bootstrap married his Ma.”

“Shut up, Gibbs!” Jack snapped coldly. “This is all your fault anyways. I’m only here at your insistence.”

“Don’t forget the crew, Capt’n,” Mr. Gibbs answered, moving a few steps away from his Captain. “They were on the edge of mutiny if we didn’t return to port and find Mr. Turner.”

“Mutinous bastards!” Jack hissed and then slapped the wheel, only to turn around and apologize to the Black Pearl immediately, “Sorry girl, not mad a you, just at the scab I share my bed with.”

“Now most of the crew are bastards undoubtedly, but they know when their own Capt’n is actin’ like a down right crazy man,” Mr. Gibbs said carefully and then added, “Well, more crazy than normal anyways. We all know the only thing that keeps your temper away from us is Mr. Turner. Having that young man around makes sure you’re regularly bedded and have your mind on the booty.”

“And exactly where am I supposed to find him?” Jack asked in a heavily sarcastic tone.

“Where would you be, sir?”

“But of course, I would either be drunk or with a...” Jack didn’t finish his sentence, but instead snapped, “If that cheating bastard is with a whore, I’ll fucking kill ‘im!”

“You always say that, sir...” Mr. Gibbs laughed as he watched Jack storm around the deck, yelling orders to dock the Pearl more quickly. There definitely would be hell to pay. He knew how they acted around each other. Every crew member of the Black Pearl knew that Captain Jack Sparrow and Mr. Will Turner acted like a pair of rutting cats in heat around each other... always scrapping and fucking. Everyone heard it. He was confident that after another mighty row they would both be back aboard the Pearl and ready to cause more mischief to the Royal Navy.

*

Back on dry land, Will bedded the scolding wench with half-hearted enthusiasm and less finesse. He was far too distracted by the vision of the Black Pearl sailing toward the docks and the fit of temper it had brought about. He rolled off her, and she sat up with a pinched expression on her face. "You really could use that bath, luv," she said, smoothing down her skirts and patting her hair slightly into place.

Will sneered and took a pull off his bottle. "Fine then. Send up that pretty little chamber boy." He chuckled and added, "And see if he has a few friends to bring along...they can all gather round and wash me..."

The wench shook her head and left the room muttering to herself. Will watched her go and then drained the remaining rum from the bottle in three large gulps. Then he fell into a drunken stupor for quite a long while, musing over past events both good and bad.
Finally, he roused himself when he noticed the sky growing dark. He knew that the Pearl would surely be secured by now.

A fresh flare of anger burned through him at the thought, and he lay limply on the bed and bellowed, "Where the bloody hell is my BATH!", the force of his yelling shaking the bed.

“Shut up you impatient git!” Jack’s distinctive voice rang out from the doorway.

"YOU," seethed Will, head snapping around to look at the man standing in the doorway. He hated that his heart, as well as other parts of his body, surged at the first glimpse of him in so many weeks, and he squashed the feeling before it could take root.

He immediately scooted off the far side of the bed, putting the piece of furniture squarely between him and Jack.

At the shocked look on Will’s face, Jack laughed and walked closer towards the bed. On his way, he kicked a few bottles with his boot and gave Will a distasteful once over. It hadn’t been hard to track down his absconded lover, as he knew most of the whores and sluts in Tortuga by name, if not by how they fucked. He just had to take one of the biggest gossips in town behind the bar for a freebie and he had found out Will’s exact location.

“Didn’t know you’ve taken up whoring, Willie?” Jack finished, knowing how much Will hated the nickname.

Will narrowed his eyes and glared at Jack, "I took up whoring the minute I crawled into *your* filthy bed..." Jack's appraisal hadn't escaped his notice and he was bristling now.

“Except I don’t pay you,” Jack quipped, “Guess that makes you a plain ol’ slut.” Jack moved a little closer to the bed and made a face as he leaned over to sniff Will. “You even smell like a whore. Thought you had better taste than women.”

Will took a few steps backwards, still staring at Jack. He curled his lip. As if Jack had any leg to stand on over that point. The man would fuck just about anything.

"I smell like a whore because I've been fucking them... Loads of them," he slurred in defiance. He crossed his arms over his chest and added, "I fucked the chamber boy too, and you should have heard how I made him squeal."

Jack snorted at Will's comment. "You made the lad squeal from your lack of talent. Haven't I told you you're better on your stomach with your arse in the air than at anything else..." At the mention of Will in such a position, Jack got a slight wistful look on his face for only a mere moment. "Or bent over the side of the Pearl... Or over a table in a pub... or a canon aboard ship..."

Jack really was easy to distract when it came to sex or the Black Pearl. Come to think of it, he was also easy to distract when it came to anything shiny or even a good bottle of rum, oh hell, even a half-assed bottle of cheap bootleg rum would turn his head on a good day.

Will choked back a moan at the mention of being bent over the canon, not wanting Jack to know how much the image affected him. That had been one hell of a memorable day...and night. And all the next day, as a matter of fact. The results of another of their wild fights, and Will found himself growing heated from the memory. It was almost enough to make him want to forgive Jack for leaving him behind - if only for the repeat performance.

When he realized what he was thinking, Will swore violently and flung the now empty bottle at Jack's head with as much force as he could muster. "If that's all the more use you have of me, then you're just as well to employ any random crewman for your purpose...." His voice lacked the venom he'd intended it to have, and he knew he was fighting a losing battle here. It would be far better to get away while he still had the force of his anger to spur him on.

Jack was between him and the door, but the rustle of the curtains caught his eye and he bolted toward the window, flinging one leg over the sill and starting to climb out.

Jack and Will were about evenly matched on a good day, but today wasn’t a good day for Will. Too much rum and too many bad whores had made his movements slow. Jack was across the small room in a matter of seconds and had his arm wrapped around Will’s jugular in a sleeper hold even as pulled him away from the sill.

“You’re asking for it today, aren’t ya Willie?” Jack hissed.

"Not...from...*you*... you... poncey... freak..." gasped Will in short ragged breaths as he struggled against Jack's hold. Even as he clawed helplessly at the arm encircling his neck, a part of Will's mind registered the heat from the man's body and the solid feel of it against him. It suddenly dawned on him that he had a raging hard-on and he cursed his wayward body.

"Fuck!" he spat, twisting his body and then letting his legs go limp to try to unbalance Jack. He swung his arm around behind him and felt the back of his hand connect with a sharp, satisfying *smack*.

“Bastard!” Jack hissed in a raspy, definitely higher tone and holding his genitals protectively. “You fight like a fucking wench!”

Will hadn’t used that particular move since he’d first kidnapped him from his wedding to Elizabeth Swann. The little bastard had a tendency to play dirty when he was really pissed off at Jack. He supposed that he might be pissed off if he had been left in a port alone. But instead of apologizing, he turned around and kicked Will in his own genitals.

Will yelped loudly when Jack's foot connected with his groin, then collapsed to the floor, hunched over and unable to speak. He lay there for several moments, face pressed into the splintered floor, panting and groaning. His head swam from the mix of rum and pain and he had to fight to keep from getting sick.

How dare that bastard come here and treat him like this when he'd been the one who started it all in the first place. But Jack Sparrow was never one to admit when he was wrong and Will was spitting mad.

He knew he needed to move soon or he was lost, so he started scrabbling at the floorboards with his fingers, trying to move away and looking around for the means of escape or his next move. He knocked an empty bottle with his head and it rolled into view. Without even a second's thought, he snatched up the bottle and swung it at
Jack's head, yelling, "You left me, you prick...why the fuck did you bother to come back?!"

Jack ducked the swinging bottle from many years of practice during pub brawls. “I came back for you, you wanker!” Jack shouted back. “Though I’m beginning to doubt why! Why in the hell I missed you, I won’t know! The crew must’ve put salt water in me rum jugs to water it down again.”

Jack grabbed the bottle from Will’s hand and flung it against the clapboard walls.

Will winced as the bottle broke against the wall, and promptly snatched another from the ample supply littering the floor. He swung at Jack again, but missed, connecting with the bedpost instead and smashing the bottle to pieces. He skittered away from the broken shards, putting more space between himself and Jack.

"You shouldn't have bothered to come back," he seethed, searching the floor for anything handy to throw and seizing up an apple core. "If you think I'm going to have another bloody thing to do with you, you're off your fucking rocker!"

He pelted Jack with a steady stream of bones, bottles and rinds. "Now FUCK OFF!!!"

"Hey!" came a sharp and irritated voice from the doorway. One of the older women, who usually tended bar, was standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips, glaring from Jack to Will and back again. The wench who'd so recently been in Will's bed was peering around her from out in the hallway, looking scandalized but curious. "Just what in the hell is going on in here?!"

“I’ve just came back to claim my property, that’s what!” Jack hissed. Then an apple core hit him squarely in the face and he yelled out, “Though I don’t know why!”

"Your property, my ASS..." bristled Will, crawling across the floor. "You gave up any rights to me when you left me here." He was nearly to the door and his brain was working feverishly to think of one place he might run where Jack wouldn't find him.

“Get the hell outta here, you cunts!” Jack yelled and started to push the door closed on the older woman.

Will made a desperate lunge for the door, grabbing the edge of it with both hands. His head was swimming and he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to stand, let alone run. Jack grabbed Will around the waist and pulled him away from the door. It didn’t take much for him to kick the door shut with one foot.

Will groaned in frustration. He could hear the barmaid swearing and stomping down the hall, and wondered if she was going for reinforcements or simply giving up on them. He wasn't entirely sure which would be better. Furious though he was, he knew all too well that Jack had ways of getting to him. And he wasn't about to let that happen this time. He fought to pull free of Jack's grasp and slammed his head into the edge of the nightstand.

“Stop that!” Jack hissed, “You’ll knock yourself out, you stupid git!”

"That's not a bad idea!" Will shot back, cracking his head forcefully against the table again just to make his point.

“Your mother must’ve drank too much sea water when she was knocked up with you,” Jack huffed and then wrestled Will onto the ground. “Fucking lunatic.”

"You leave my mother out of this," snapped Will, struggling ineffectually against the body pinning him down. When he felt the heat of Jack's body through the layers of cloth, he reversed tactics and tried to press himself into the floorboards instead.

“She was a better fuck than you,” Jack snapped the insult, wrestling with Will like they often did. “At least that’s what all her customers told me.”

Will's eyes flew wide open with shock. "You *prick*!" he bellowed, jerking his head upwards and smashing it into Jack's forehead. Blinding pain split through the numbness dulling his brain and he dropped his head back on the floor, groaning weakly.

“You used to call me *your* prick,” Jack countered and pinned Will’s hands above his head. He took advantage of the seconds Will was stunned to move into a rage filled kiss.

Will arched his back and fought against the brutal onslaught, even as his body flushed with the heat and excitement of it. He managed to twist his head slightly and bit Jack's lip sharply.

“Bastard,” Jack hissed fondly and licked at the blood, then promptly bit Will’s lip back.

"Oh, fuck...." moaned Will. This time it was his hips that arched upwards, pressing wantonly against his captor in spite of his anger.

“You know it makes me mad to think of anyone else touching you,” Jack growled between savage kisses. “Don’t care if they are dirty whores…” He ripped open Will’s shirt and started to kiss down his chest, maintaining at least one hand on Will’s own wrists at all times. “Captain Jack Sparrow is the only one who should touch you…”

"Oh, bullshit..." groaned Will, trying to keep the note of longing out of his voice. He wanted to believe Jack, but he knew better than that. "You don't give a rat's ass about me... you left me behind like every other whore..." He squirmed against Jack's grasp as chills ran through his body with each touch of the man's lips.

“I can forgive anything…” Jack said, stopping for a moment. “But not when you threatened to get back with that… that… bitch.”

Jack could take anything but not the threat of Elizabeth Swann being thrown in his face.

“I wha…?” gasped Will in a daze, aching to feel Jack’s mouth on him again. Then he remembered… and nearly laughed out loud. The last time they’d fought, Will wanted to hurt Jack, badly, the way Jack always hurt him. So he’d grasped at the worst thing he could think of. He couldn’t believe that Jack took the ridiculously empty threat seriously. But then… if he did… so much the better for Will.

“Well…” said Will, trying to sound grave and torn. “…at least she’s devoted to me…”

“I’m devoted to you!” Jack defended himself instantly. He was never one for sweet declarations and relationships that masked themselves as marriages. He was Captain Jack Sparrow and not meant to be tied down. He’d seen Will Turner and wanted him, so he’d taken him right on his very wedding day and kept him. “Haven’t thrown you over board like most of me lovers!”

Will went stiff and glared at Jack, all thoughts of pretense forgotten, "Leaving me behind is the same damn thing!" He renewed his struggles, twisting beneath the pirate and kicking at whatever he could reach.

“I came back, didn’t I?” Jack shouted back, pinning Will back onto the floor. He started to kiss him forcibly and hard. “Stupid boy, you knew I’d come back.”

Will groaned into the powerful kiss and allowed Jack to take control for the moment. Whether from the distraction, or mere carelessness, Jack's grip on his wrists loosened and Will gently slipped one hand free, tangling it in Jack's hair to pull him closer for a moment. Then he trailed it down Jack's side, trying to ignore the ache in his groin that was weakening his resolve. His fingers closed around the butt of Jack's pistol and deftly pulled it free, already leveling it against Jack's ear as he cocked it with a loud sharp click.

Jack made an annoyed sound against Will’s lips, clearly put out by a death threat when he was just starting to get somewhere. But Jack never reacted like a normal man with a pistol to his head. Will should have learned that a long time ago, but then again, Jack was always full of surprises. Jack nuzzled Will’s lips a bit more, then pulled away. “You can shoot me AFTER we fuck. Savvy, luv?”

"No," said Will, swallowing hard and shivering as the word 'fuck' rolled off Jack's tongue. "No...get OFF!" He shoved hard against the body pinning him down and set his jaw. "And DON'T call me STUPID!!!"

“Stupid?” Jack parroted back with a disgusted look on his face. He seemed to be ignoring the pistol pointed at his head and blatantly adjusted his erection. “Maybe not, but how about the most annoying git on the on the bleedin' open seas?"

Will curled his lip and re-aimed the pistol at Jack's crotch, nudging the stiff bulge and squirming out from underneath the man. "Annoying or not, I'm smart enough to never believe another word you say...."

Will sat upright and pressed himself back against the bed, shaking his head to try and clear it.

“Pirate,” Jack repeated the single word that was his excuse since the day they had met for breaking his word to Will. To him, it was all the answer Will needed to explain his actions. When someone normal would have gone soft with a pistol pressed against their groin, Jack moved his hips, making his cock rub against the barrel.

Will sighed and let his arm go slack, admitting the futility of holding a gun on a man who knew he would never pull the trigger. "Jack...." he whined softly, gazing wearily at the man.

“Would it help if I said m’sorry?” Jack answered. “We can fuck, make up and I’ll promise not to leave port without ya.” Jack was just about willing to say if anything if Will would stop being difficult. Will was both his bane and addiction. He needed to touch him again, so he reached out and took the pistol from Will’s limp grasp. He put the gun within reaching distance, just in case that damn serving wench came back and then pulled Will’s fingers into his mouth, starting to suck them.

Will groaned helplessly as a shiver ran through him. "You never fight fair," he said in a weak voice. It did help to hear Jack say he was sorry, even if Will knew it was more likely that he was sorry there'd been such a fuss, rather than it being any kind of apology. When he thought he couldn't take any more of Jack's teasing tongue, he reached out and slapped him hard.

“I deserved that,” Jack told him, flashing his gold toothed smile at Will. God, but the boy knew how he liked it. “And fighting fair doesn’t happen when you’re a pirate.”

"No... I guess it doesn't..." said Will pensively, averting his eyes. Then with a sudden leap, he lunged at Jack, shoving him backwards onto the floor, pinning him with a hand on his throat. He straddled the man, weaving slightly as the rum sloshed through his system. Grinning sardonically, he said, "So what's it gonna be, Jack Sparrow?"

“How about a good fucking?” Jack leered at Will. At this point he was so damn worked up that he didn’t care who fucked who, just as long as there was fucking involved. He groaned when he felt Will’s hand tighten on his neck.

"You *don't* deserve it...." Will hissed, leaning close to Jack's face, and flexing his fingers around his slim neck. He slapped Jack again and then bent down to kiss his cheek where a red handprint bloomed faintly.

“But you want it anyways,” Jack shot back. He could feel the sweet burn from the slap on his face and cherished it. “Did you go and make yourself a eunuch for real while I was gone?”

"Why?" asked Will, trailing his mouth along Jack's jaw line. "Just because I've failed to throw myself into your arms begging to taken the instant I saw you?" He flicked his tongue over Jack's ear and sunk his teeth sharply into the soft flesh below it. "I've had a steady stream of whores and willing young boys to keep me company." If he failed to mention that the whores did not satisfy or the boys were not entirely willing, it hardly seemed important.

“But they’re not me!” Jack hissed with more than hint of jealously. “No one knows you like I do. I made you the whore you are today!”

"Then you have only yourself to blame," Will shot back as he released Jack's neck and grasped his shirt, wrenching it fully open and bending to bite one small nipple.

Jack hissed when he felt the sharp pain of Will’s teeth biting into his flesh. He loved to mark his flesh, both with the permanent tableau of tattoos, but also with the less permanent panorama of bite marks and bruises. It was a beautiful thing the next morning of what he had shared, and, once they were back on the ship, Jack had every intention of not wearing his shirt to show his trophies off.

Will bent his head lower and bit harshly into Jack's stomach, then soothed it over with his tongue and a slow kiss. He stood up, towering over the pirate and looking down at him as he shrugged off the torn remnants of his shirt.

“Gonna have to get you a tattoo, luv,” Jack told Will, noting that the bruises would fade but that a tattoo would be a permanent mark on that pristine skin.

"If you think I'm getting your name tatoo'ed on my ass, your sadly mistaken," sneered Will, crossing his arms.

“Don’t care what it is,” Jack shook his head, “Just wanna see that pretty skin with a mark on it. And much better to leave my bite marks on your ass.”

Will rolled his eyes and reached to his waistband, frowning when he could not find what should have been there. He narrowed his eyes on Jack a moment and then turned to start sifting through the litter strewn about the room.

“Looking for this, luv?” Jack asked, dangling the dagger Will kept attached to his waistband between his fingers.

Will whipped around and stiffened up when his gaze fell on Jack's hand...and what was in it. There was certainly no use in asking for it back, and he questioned the wisdom of trying to make a lunge for it. Too much rum and too little sleep were making his wits slow.

“My poor lad,” Jack cooed, turning the knife and running it along his tongue. Then he moved the knife and started to outline his cock through his own pants, the entire time keeping his eyes locked with Will. Will knew, in a mere moment Jack could flip that dagger around in his hand and lunge into Will’s chest if he so desired. “Never were that bright, but your arse and pretty face always made up for that.”

Will stared, transfixed, until Jack's insult made him bristle. He realized his breath was ragged and he fought to get it back under control. Before he could stop himself, though, his gaze dropped to the sleek blade in his lover's hand, and he swallowed nervously.

“Missed your mouth,” Jack drawled, getting to his feet now and carefully running the blade over the head of his cock, the only barrier being the thinning pants. “Why don’t you kneel down like a good lad and show me how much you missed me?”

"What makes you think I missed you all that much?" asked Will weakly.

“Licking your lips for one,” Jack pointed out. “Know how much ya want my cock. But you can’t tell me you didn’t miss this?”

Will took half a step forward without thinking and then paused, "I did miss it...*I* never would have given it up..."

“Then never talk about going back to that bitch again,” Jack growled.

A feeling of grim satisfaction came over Will and a sly grin spread across is face. "That really got to you, didn't it?" he prodded, slowly closing the gap between them. He nipped at Jack's lip and then lowered himself carefully to his knees. Gazing steadily up at Jack, he pressed his lips to the flat of the blade.

“What if it did?” Jack huffed. “You forgot that you belong to me, Will. Don’t care about your cock, but your heart belongs to me.” From the very first moment he had seen Will Turner, he knew the boy would be his. He really didn’t care who Will slept with because he knew Will would always come back to him.

"It always has," Will murmured, pressing his face against Jack's groin. He grasped the man's thighs and pulled him close, rolling his head against him with a soft moan. As he did so, the tip of the knife cut into his cheek and he gasped, blinking up at Jack with a mixture of lust and surprise.

“Make it good,” Jack told him. “And no biting.”

"You seemed to like it before...." taunted Will, mouthing Jack's erection softly through the thin material of his pants.

“Just don’t bite it off,” Jack amended with a hitch of his breath as he felt Will’s teeth scrape over the head of his cock.

Will fumbled at the ties of Jack's pants with shaking fingers, breath ragged with anticipation, and one eye keeping track of the dagger in Jack's hand.

Jack ran the dagger over Will’s stubbled cheek and noted with a half smile, “I’ll have to shave you when you get back to the ship.”

A moan escaped Will's mouth at the thought and he had to refocus his efforts on Jack. Gripping Jack's waistband, he slid his pants down over his hips and caught the straining erection on his tongue.

Jack had missed Will’s delightful enthusiasm when it came to fucking. Will loved to fuck and be fucked, his mouth included. The sucking noises Will was making were simply obscene and Jack loved every single moment of it.

Will worked every trick of the tongue that he could think of, and a few he made up on the spot. Not only had he missed Jack more than he was willing to admit, there was some deep nervous part of him that would do just about anything to keep Jack from ever leaving again. He clutched desperately at Jack's legs, and when he finally needed a short break for air, he turned his head and bit Jack's hip, leaving another livid mark.

“Bend your pretty ass over the bed,” Jack demanded. “Or I’ll use the dagger somewhere else.”

"Make me," gasped Will, kissing Jack's stomach. His blood surged through his veins and pounded in his groin, and he ached to feel Jack's hands on him.

Jack threw the dagger against the wall and briefly watched the plaster chip off the wall. He didn’t need a weapon to make his Will submit. It wasn’t about rape, it was about the passion they shared for each other that was so intense it wavered between love and hate.

A shiver ran down Will's spine and he winced as the dagger stuck with a metallic twang. He moaned anxiously, longing for Jack's might to be turned on him next.

Jack launched himself at Will and knocked him onto the floor. They started to struggle on the floor, wrestling around with each man trying to gain dominance. This was how they usually decided who topped in their relationship.

Rolling easily to the floor, Will growled with relish and threw himself into the fight eagerly. He sunk his teeth into Jack's shoulder and kneed him in the ribs, running his hands hungrily over Jack's torso at the same time.

Jack grabbed Will’s ass fiercely, leaving deep scratch marks in the flesh. Then he also ran his fingers greedily between his cheeks, ripping the fabric of Will’s pants.

Will twisted his body and threw his head back, yelping with pain and then moaning. He grabbed a fistful of Jack's hair and yanked firmly on it, pulling Jack's head around for a greedy kiss.

Jack kissed him back and used the distraction to roll on top of Will. He answered the hungry kiss, only happy when he tasted blood. “Your blood ties you to me,” he growled. “The blood of your father and your own.”

"That's not the only thing...." gasped Will, clutching Jack for a moment before giving him a sharp elbow in the side. He bit his lip to keep himself from saying more. He knew far too well what Jack thought of sentimental declarations.

Jack looked down at Will for a moment, still gasping from the sharp blow. “I don’t hate you…” Jack told him.

Will stared at Jack with gleaming eyes and face flushed. He reached up to trace Jack's mouth with the tip of his finger, then reached back and slapped Jack hard. "Prove it," he hissed.

Jack’s breath caught as he felt the stinging on his cheek that was so very much like a kiss. He pushed Will’s legs up, happy now that the tear in Will’s pants was so aptly placed and his own cock was free.

Will gasped and struggled eagerly, grinning wickedly. "And am I just supposed to give myself up to you so easily?" he taunted.

Jack’s answer was to slap Will. “Yes. Act like the slut I know you are.”

Will rolled his head against the floor, arching his back with a long moan. The heat from his stinging cheek spread down his body and he clawed at Jack's shoulder, pulling him close.

Jack entered Will without preparation. The younger man had enough experience that he wouldn’t be torn or bleeding, but Jack was sure he would feel it for days.

"Oh... FUCK..." Will cried, choking back a dry sob. He clung to Jack for a long moment, not moving.

“You may be a slut, boy,” Jack growled, pumping into Will even harder. “But you’re MY slut.”

"You're ruthless... you know that?" Will panted, twisting his body and writhing, trying to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

“Pirate, luv,” Jack answered brutally and continued to pump deep inside, not giving Will time to adjust.

Will's body shuddered with each thrust, growing hot and slick with sweat. Other people’s nightmares are some people’s greatest dreams. What some people might have called rape, Will called ecstasy. He didn’t need to touch his cock as Jack pummeled him. His back arced up and he started to cum, yelling out Jack’s name.

As his climax hit him full force, he seized Jack's head and pulled him into a crushing kiss, biting down hard and drawing blood from Jack's lip. Jack came with the taste of his own blood mixing with Will’s in his mouth. He collapsed onto Will, still fully sheathed deep inside.

Will's arms snaked around Jack immediately, holding onto him tightly. He pressed his mouth to Jack's shoulder, partly from the need for contact, and partly to keep himself from saying anything just yet.

“You’re coming back with me,” Jack said. It wasn’t a question, but a cold statement.

"When hell freezes over..." Will said warmly, kissing Jack passionately.

“The Pearl misses you,” Jack rumbled softly. “I don’t like to displease my lady. I’ll carry you back in chains if I have to.”

"Promise?" asked Will, tracing one of the marks on Jack's neck with his finger.

Jack reached out and tightened his hand in Will’s hair. He looked Will straight in the eyes, “Promise.”

He sealed that promise with a kiss.



END.