was probably unfair, Will admitted, to put all the blame on Jack. Still, the
man had such an inherently culpable
Will and James were quite content to lay it all on his head. Until long
after the particulars of what had really happened had been forgotten, and
the true story had faded into a quiet legend, Will always began the tale
with the same six words:
"It was all Jack's fault, really."
"Oh, really now! That's hardly fair, William!" Jack interjected, oozing
wounded indignation. "If it hadn't been for that blasted goat, the plan
would've gone perfectly smoothly!"
"Yes," conceded Will, leaning forward with a positively devilish glint in
his eye, "but you of all people ought to know, you can't trust a man of the
cloth in such a situation!" The sailors surrounding them burst into
laughter, and Will grinned at Jack.
"Cheers," Jack toasted him, and drank deeply.
Their latest run of successful raids had left the Pearl's crew with
heavy pockets and a bevy of new stories to crow over. Their celebratory mood
was infections, and it was well past one in the morning when Will, deep into
his cups, staggered out of the tavern.
Jack clapped an amiable hand on his shoulder, and Will canted dangerously to
the left. "Another fine sail," Jack proclaimed, clutching at Will's shirt to
haul him upright. "Will you come with us again, in September?"
Will hesitated, then took a deep breath and leaned conspiratorially in
Jack's (general) direction. "I'm late," he confessed.
Jack cast about him as if to verify this by the position of the stars, or
the buildings, or... something. "So you are!" he allowed, deciding to take
Will's word for it. "But next time I promise--the Pearl promises not
to be be--be bebe--not to get stuck. And we'll have you back on schedule,
and Commodore Nosypants will not even miss you."
Will frowned at this, and opened his mouth--to say what, Jack didn't even
want to know. He laid one filthy finger across Will's open lips. "Hold that
thought," he cautioned, looked left and right down the street, cocked an
eyebrow at Will, and announced, "This is where we part ways. 'Til
"'Til September," Will agreed with a clumsy handshake, and stumbled off
toward the forge.
Although it was late, the moon was bright and provided enough light for Will
to get home with minimal trouble. He stood in the doorway to his quarters
behind the forge, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Suddenly,
a lantern flared to reveal James Norrington, sans wig and in civilian
clothes, seated at Will's rough desk.
"Forgive me for intruding," he murmured darkly. "You were missing, and I
"Commodore," Will began, then realized he had no idea what to say. "I... I
had left word... I did not mean for you to worry," he finished lamely,
stepping into the room.
"Yes, I got your message. But you said you'd meant to be back weeks ago.
When you missed our fencing engagement, I thought to come looking for you."
Norrington's face was unreadable behind the light.
"I have been keeping up my fencing with--another tutor, in my absence," Will
said stupidly. As though it mattered at all.
"Another tutor?" suddenly, Norrington was out of the chair, his hands fisted
in Will's shirt. “Do you imagine I don’t know where you’ve been gone all
this time? Jack Sparrow—a tutor--I can only imagine what else he’s
been teaching you.” Norrington’s rage washed over Will, unexpected and
inexplicable. His mouth twisted in a sneer, and he continued, “did he say
that all men do it, did he speak of the lonely months at sea with no
Will blinked stupidly at him, then stammered uselessly, “I, I don’t—he—it
Norrington sighed. “I had expected better of you. You’re a fool, Will, to
listen to anything he says.” The cold look in his eyes stung more than his
words; anger was manageable, but this forced indifference—it pained Will to
see it. And then it struck him. This was never anger; it was jealousy.
Norrington had come to see him as a protégé, a friend of sorts, and now Jack
threatened to take Will away from him.
“I am a fool, James, but then, so are you.” Norrington was still frowning
when Will kissed him. There was a moment of stunned acquiescence, maybe two,
and then Norrington shoved him violently away.
“Do not--no. You cannot do this.” He looked, by turns, infuriated and
anguished, as though Will had asked of him something he could not give, but
desperately wanted to. But then, perhaps he had.
“Why not? James? I’m not an orphan child, needing to be coddled. I don’t
need your protection, or your patronage. I will make my own way in the
world, and accept the consequences of my actions. You cannot always save me
from myself, from what I want and what I choose.” He paused, and his
expression and tone both softened. “Or is what I want so evil?”
Norrington gave him a long, searching look. At last, he sighed, and pushed
his fingers back through his disheveled hair. “You are a fool, and I am
weak. I should, with every part of me I know that I should, but I cannot
tell you this is evil, Will. To condemn you for my own failings—it would be
“Your own—“ Will paused. He wasn’t certain of Norrington’s meaning, and to
misspeak would certainly give offense.
Norrington smirked. “Did you think I offered unqualified advice? I speak
from experience. Jack Sparrow says many pretty things, Will, and greater men
than I have believed them.”
Will could only gape at him and found himself stuttering again. “You—and
Jack? But—I—how?” Norrington chuckled and Will blushed. “I didn’t mean…”
“I know. It has been going on for some time, Will. The man does have… some
admirable qualities, and I find that I do respect him, in spite of myself.
He is also the most conniving bastard I’ve ever met, and I’ve no doubt he
planted the seeds of… this,” and he waved his hand vaguely between them,
“for some nefarious purpose of his own.”
Will’s jaw tightened and his brows drew together. “Maybe he did,” he said
tightly, “but I’m glad of it.”
Norrington smiled. “As am I, Will. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. I have
watched you closely, you know, and you’re right—you are a grown man. And a
fine one, at that. I just never thought—well. It seemed inappropriate.”
Will cocked an eyebrow at him—a gesture borrowed (no doubt unconsciously)
from Sparrow. “And now?”
Norrington stepped forward again, crowding Will back against the wall. Will
did not retreat. “Now? It still seems inappropriate. But I find I’ve lost my
concern for propriety.”
Will laughed. “It’s a hazard of keeping company with pirates, you know.”
“I shall have to be more careful about the company I keep, then,” Norrington
murmured, and brushed his lips against Will’s. “Perhaps… perhaps you would
prove a better influence?”
“I doubt that very much,” Will grinned, and pulled James flush against him.
“I’ve been known to keep bad company myself,” he explained. He stroked
James’s arms, tugged at one taut thigh. “James.” Norrington arched an
eyebrow. “What do I have to do, to convince you to give me what I want? What
we both want?”
“Well, for starters, you might try shooting him.”
Norrington froze, and Will spun about—too fast, and he nearly pitched over.
“Jack!” he cried, shocked out of lustful torpor by sheer panic.
“What? It worked for me. Or was it the kidnapping, James?” Jack Sparrow
lounged in the doorway as though it had been built around him, every muscle
in his body radiating casual unconcern. His eyes, though, snapped black
steel and darted back and forth between Norrington and Will. “James?” he
Norrington answered slowly, as if considering his words very carefully. “I
believe,” he drawled, “I believe it was when you called me—what was it? A
stubborn, unyielding fool who wouldn’t know an opportunity for happiness if
it walked up and shot him in the ass?”
Jack grinned. “Ah, yes. One of my better moments.”
“You shot him? You kidnapped him?” Will interrupted, looking at the
two men as though they were suddenly dangerous. “You’re both mad.”
Jack eeled up to them, insinuating himself between them without any effort.
“Well, yes,” he said, tapping Will lightly on the chest, “but that’s half
the appeal, now ain’t it?” He slid one thumb across Will’s lower lip, and
Will’s breath hitched in his chest.
“Jack…” Will protested half-heartedly, but had gotten no further than Jack’s
name when his teeth closed on Jack’s thumb and he sucked at it, eyes looking
up at Norrington.
James stood, his hands on Jack’s hips, and stared hungrily at Will’s mouth.
“Jack,” he breathed, and pulled gently on his hips. “I want…”
Jack pulled his thumb away, and James leaned in over his shoulder. He kissed
Will deeply, tongue sweeping roughly across his mouth. One hand moved from
Jack’s hip to Will’s neck, and James pulled until Jack was crushed between
them and Will could feel every line and angle of his body, every inch of
Jack against him as James kissed him.
James did not pull back when he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against
Will’s. “This is madness,” he protested weakly.
“We’ve been over that, James,” Jack reminded him. He squirmed, not entirely
uncomfortably, between them. “Ah, James, if you would be so kind…” There was
no response, and then a little of the pressure on Will’s cock was eased as
Jack pressed his ass back against James.
Norrington responded with a bite on Jack’s shoulder as he slipped his hand
between Jack and Will. As he struggled with Jack’s trousers, the back of his
hand brushed against Will’s cock, and Will could not help but surge forward,
seeking more of the tantalizing contact.
Jack laughed, but there was no mockery in it. “You’re teasing him, James.
James took a deep, unsteady breath, then nodded and stepped back before
slowly letting it out. Before Will could object, Jack’s hands were at his
belt, and he found himself divested of his pants entirely. “Jack… I want to
The sound of James Norrington pleading was intoxicating, and Will looked at
Jack in breathless anticipation. “What…” he began, and Jack cut him off with
“You’ll like this,” he assured Will as he dropped to his knees.
Jack slid his hands down over Will’s legs, then lightly bit the tender flesh
on the inside of one thigh. He licked the reddened skin and his hands came
up again to gently squeeze Will’s cock. He stroked for a moment, and then
slid his mouth down where his hands had been.
The intense pleasure of Jack’s mouth on his cock transported Will, made it
difficult for him to focus on anything but the slide of Jack’s tongue up his
shaft, the slick squeeze of his lips on the head. He leaned his head back,
eyes closed, against the wall and pressed his palms flat to it. “Oh, god,
Jack,” he swore, “god yes.”
James groaned, and Will opened his eyes to see the other man watching him,
eyes wide and his hand stroking his own erect cock. The idea of James
watching this, seeing Will flushed and panting, Jack on his knees before
him, was nearly overwhelming, and Will closed his eyes again. He felt his
balls draw up tight against his body and he clenched his fists against the
“Will,” James gasped. “Will, look at me.”
With herculean effort, Will wrenched his eyes open and forced them to focus
on the sight of James’s hand, squeezing and pulling his cock, his hips
stuttering forward toward Jack and Will. Jack reached back to stroke the
sensitive area behind Will’s aching balls, and Will was swept under. He
spilled into Jack’s mouth, cock pulsing hotly each time Jack swallowed
Will felt his legs go unsteady underneath him, and Jack jumped up to brace
him. He guided Will to the bed and kneeled over him, grinning like the
proverbial satisfied cat. “Told you so, didn’t I?”
James snorted. “As if your ego needs any more stroking.”
“It’s not my ego as needs stroking, James,” Jack shot back, winking at Will.
“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to help a man out?”
James moved to the bed, stripping off his clothes as he did. Will helped him
divest Jack of his clothing, and then James pushed Jack forward, so that he
straddled Will on all fours. “I’m not reaching into that ratty coat, Jack,”
James declared. “Heaven only knows what sort of vermin I’d encounter.” The
statement was met with much eye-rolling and a burdened sigh, but Jack
reached down and fished a small bottle from one of his myriad pockets, then
handed it to James.
Will explored Jack’s body with his hands, stroking his chest, pinching a
nipple, squeezing the muscles in his arms, while James slicked his cock and
prepared Jack to be entered. Jack responded with a host of encouraging
sounds, and Will grew bolder in his teasing. When James gripped Jack’s hips
and sunk into him, Will reached down and grasped Jack’s cock between them.
He worked Jack with his hands while James fucked him, and Jack writhed
between them like a wild animal. This time, when Will looked up and found
James’s eyes on him, he did not look away.
“Will,” gasped James, and thrust into Jack.
“Will!” cried Jack, and his seed spilled out, hot over Will’s hand and
“James,” Will whispered, and James groaned as he spent himself deep inside
Jack, now draped warm and pliant over Will.
“Jack,” mumbled same, and James, withdrawing gingerly, laughed. “Couldn’t be
left out, now could I?” Jack argued.
“No worry of that,” Will pointed out.
There was really no way for three grown men to arrange themselves
comfortably in the small bed, but none wanted to leave, so they remained
draped over each other, crushed against the wall and draped over the edges.
Later, after sleep but before the morning, Will whispered a question to
Jack, who laughed softly in response. “Does it matter? Here we are. It’s bad
luck to question good fortune, Will. And bad manners besides.”
It was no answer, but it hardly mattered. Will conferred with James in the
morning, and the two agreed—the whole affair was entirely Jack’s fault.