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Nice Hat

by Linaelyn

 

Fandom: PoTC    Rating: NC-17    Pairing: Jack/Will    Full Header

 


Jack looked at the young man dangling out over the sea, precariously clutching the boom that Jack had so deftly used to sweep him off the deck a moment ago. He spoke didactically. "The only rules that really matter are these: what a man can do and what a man can't do. For instance, you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man or you can't. But pirate is in your blood, boy, so you'll have to square with that some day." Jack grinned; he was enjoying this moment. "And me, for example, I can let you drown, but I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesies, savvy?"

The rudder was once again shoved to a new position, and the boom swung around, abruptly dropping Will Turner to the deck of the Interceptor. The journeyman blacksmith panted for breath as Jack's sword stabbed in his direction. "So....can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not?" demanded Jack. The blade flipped through the air, suddenly, and landed in the reversed position, blade flat in Jack's palm.

"Tortuga?" Will extended his hand to grasp the hilt, in a gesture of bewildered fealty. Jack hoisted him to his feet.

"Tortuga!" was Jack's exultant cry.

They pushed onward. The sun glinted on the sea, and the brisk wind from the stern made their speed deceptively invisible, as perceived from the deck. Will thought to himself that it was a lovely day for a sail.

"You need a hat," announced Jack.

Will was peering over the gunwale, startled at the rapid passage of the waters below. So, this really was a fast ship. "Pardon me?"

"A hat! A chapeau. Somethin' to keep the blazing fiery eye up there from driving you mad in the heat of the day, mate!" Jack gestured from his position at the helm towards the sun, which was nearing its zenith now.

"Oh, I'm fine," Will reassured. "I'm out in the sun quite often. Never had much trouble with a burn. My mam was quite fair, pale and blonde, so I must have gotten the dark from my father." Will's eyes sought the horizon thoughtfully, at his own mention of this painful topic.

"C'mere!" Jack ordered. Will hesitated.

Jack sighed, pained. "You just do not seem to understand that I'm the Captain, and I give orders here. Let's try again, shall we? C'MERE!!!" Jack bellowed.

Will leaped across the deck to Jack's side; in three bounds he stood nearly nose to... forehead with his Captain. "Yes, SIR! I am here, SIR!" Will gave his best impression of a British Naval Officer with a rod up his arse. A smirk twitched his lip.

Jack chuckled quietly. "So it's to be that way, is it? Ah, suit yourself, boy. No harm in a little fun." He glanced up at the sun again. "But no question, you need that hat! Take the helm."

Confusion filled Will's eyes. "What do I do?"

"Poseidon's toothpick, you're such a lubber!" Jack laughed. He grabbed Will's right hand, and slapped it roughly into place on the large wooden peg at two o'clock. "Hold her straight, don't jiggle the wheel all willy-nilly." He spun around behind Will, and used his hips to shift the young man's body into the proper position at the helm. As Will struggled for balance, the pirate snatched his left hand from the air, and slammed it into the peg at ten o'clock. "Both hands stay right there. Don't move. She's a sensitive maid, and needs a light touch. I'm going below to see if I can't find you some suitable headgear."

Jack leapt to the deck amidships, and sauntered into the hold. Various clanking and crashing sounds emanated from the region of the hatch, and the occasional muffled curse. Finally, he reappeared, the crown of his head festooned with a stack of hats.

"Well, of course the bloody uniforms are all... uniform," said Jack, as he bobbled and swerved under his precarious cargo, "but some of the crew appear to have been on a shopping run for their paramours!" He paused, struck by a thought. "Or not, perhaps. Well, whomever they were intended to decorate, one of these shall now decorate you!"

Jack's wobbling gait brought him to Will's side. The journeyman blacksmith shook his head, as Jack dropped the stack of hats into his own hands with a deft snap of his head. Somehow, improbably, Jack's own hat stayed attached.

"I really don't need a hat. I'm fine!" Will insisted. He held up both his hands to ward off the first hat that Jack was attempting to apply to his head. The wheel swayed, the rudder shifted, the sails luffed, and the ship changed its tack to the wind slightly.

Dropping the hats, Jack reached across Will to right their course. "Did I say you could relinquish the helm!!!!" Jack thundered. Once the sails billowed satisfactorily again, and holding the wheel steady with one knee, Jack took Will's hands roughly between his own. Holding their hands flat, palm to palm, with his own on the outside, Jack said, "You never, Never, NEVER take your hands from the helm, until you have been relieved of the duty. NEVER. Savvy?" He looked into Will's eyes, and something glinted there.

"I understand." Will assured. Wordlessly, Jack placed each of Will's hands on the wheel again, with a motion that was almost a gentle caress.

"Now," Jack said softly, "you have the helm. You are not to move. Both of your hands are to remain right there." A wicked smile played across Jack's visage, and he whispered in Will's ear. "Remember, sensitive, and needs a light touch."

Jack reached down to the deck, and chose a hat. It was a broad-brimmed felt bucket, trimmed with garish straw flowers and small green and golden stuffed dead bird. Jack set it atop the younger man's wavy brown locks, and looked at him appraisingly.

"No." said Will.

"No?" queried Jack. "No, perhaps not. And that bird." He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Just give me the one off the uniform." Will growled.

"Very well," Jack acquiesced, and placed the British Naval tricorne on Will's head. The pirate frowned. "No, that will never do. Useless. Too much light still reaches your face." He brushed Will's cheek with the back of his fingers. "It would be such a pity to mar your lovely complexion..." Will moved to roughly bat away Jack's hand, but he was anticipated.

Instantly, Jack held Will's wrist in a visegrip. "Never. Take your hands. From the wheel." The pirate's eyes were black as coal, yet still burned like the forge. The offending hand was placed back on the appropriate peg. Jack leaned close in to Will's ear again, and he ticklingly whispered, "You will remember, now. Won't you, mate?" Jack brought up his right hand, and once again brushed the blacksmith's cheek.

Anger flashed through Will, flushing his cheeks and narrowing his eyes. Jack's finger traced the jawline to the wispy goatee that was blossoming there. Tucking his forefinger beneath the chin, he lightly brushed the short hairs with his thumb. "You know, I must not have been far off with that eunuch remark, if this is all the beard you can manage. Or are you still a just a whelp, who hasn't got his growth yet?" Jack looked down pointedly at Will's crotch. Jack's hand slowly reached down as if to examine the goods for himself, and Will stiffened and flushed further up to his hairline.

"Ahhhh..." Jack laughed. "Direct hit there, I believe! Well, I think I can manage to restrain my curiosity on that score until a more Opportune Moment." His eyes twinkled with merriment. "Where were we? Oh, yes. Hats."

Then the flamboyant pirate reached up and plucked the tricorne from Will's head, and sent it spinning over the rail. "Ye really must learn to relax a bit, mate. You're tighter than a jibsheet in a gale."

Jack lifted another hat from the deck. It was a pink, beribboned one, with a brim even broader than the first. On one side, the brim was pinned up and festooned with an enormous ostrich feather, also dyed a lurid shade of pink. "Fascinating, what they can do with coal-tar these days, don't you think?" Jack observed, examining the workmanship carefully. "Yes, I'd say this is just the thing."

He plopped the hat on Will's brow, and settled it down over his ears, deftly tucking wisps of wind-tossed curls up beneath the band. Then, tugging free the cord that held Will's hair at the nape of his neck, he spread the brown tresses down the broad shoulders.

"Hell's Bells! Would you keep your hands OFF me!" Will endeavored to shrug the other man's hands away, without removing his grip from the helm.

Jack backed away, hands raised. "Easy, lad, easy. I only let your hair down to shade your neck and shoulders! The reflected light from the water will burn you, dark skin or no. Then your wits won't be at their sharpest, and that's not the way to enter Tortuga, now is it? At least not in your case, when you need every piece of wit you can possibly muster." Jack placed his pinkie finger point-first on Will's chest. "What's that there?"

Will looked down, and Jack's finger bounced up, twanging Will's nose sharply. Jack gave a brief snort of amusement, and shook his head in dismay. "Were ye never a boy, then? Did ye never have mates to teach ye these things?"

Will stood silent, eyes on the horizon. Jack, uncharacteristically still, waited.

Several minutes passed with no sound but the sea and the wind in the rigging.

"I'm sorry," said Jack. He clapped Will on the shoulder, and went belowdecks.

***********************************************

The sun hung somewhat lower in the sky when Jack returned to the helm. He carried a full waterskin, and a spyglass liberated from the ship's stores. "They must have off-loaded the damned rum-ration for their time in port!" Jack complained. "Naught to be had but pure water, and a tiny flask of antiseptic."

Will looked askance at the pirate. "I would have saved ye some," Jack continued, "but there weren't much more than a dram. Hardly worth the effort to swallow it. Helm's mine." Jack took hold of the wheel, and Will slumped away from it, shaking the kinks out of his shoulders, the stiffness from his forearms, the tension in his biceps.

"Ahhh... harder than it looks, isn't it?" Jack tsked and grinned. "And you looked like such a strong boy."

"Smithing involves much more moving around than this," Will defended himself. "I'm not used to so much inactivity." It was his own turn to smirk. He caught the waterskin that Jack tossed to him and thirstily downed most of its contents in gulp after gulp.

Jack watched Will intently, as his adam's apple bobbed, and trickles of water escaped from the corners of the younger man's mouth, running down the cheeks and chin to splatter a drop or three on the salt-stained boards. Suddenly, Jack's own mouth felt just a bit parched. "Save us a swallow, would ye, mate?"

Will gulped once more, and nodding his head to the Captain, passed the skin back to him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his left hand. "How long until we reach Tortuga, do you think?" Will asked, as Jack placed his lips over the still-damp mouth of the waterskin, and pulled two deep draughts.

"We should reach our anchorage within the hour" Jack explained, gesturing to the archipelago that was growing larger off the starboard bow. "However, we don't enter Tortuga until well after nightfall, and then only in the dory. We'll have to lay low on the ship for several hours, to avoid detection."

"Lay low? Will the Royal Navy be here looking for us, then?"

"Nay, Lad. We're not hiding from the likes of them, at least not yet. No, we need to keep this lovely piece of boat out of the hands of me colleagues and associates. Can't just be leaving her tied to dockside in a town like Tortuga, and expect her to be there when we return, now can we?" Jack twinkled. "And as good as you are with that little metal stick of yours, I doubt we can keep hold of her if she's spied before we've mustered a full crew to defend her. No, we hide out until close to second nightwatch."

A thoughtful glaze shuttered Jack's face, and he didn't speak for several minutes. Will wandered the deck, stretching his arms overhead and leaning over to touch his toes, to further loosen the stiffness in his spine and shoulders.

"Will!" the Captain hollered, "See what can be found in the way of grub inside this hull. Do ye cook?"

Will was pleased to be given another task. Ship life was rather boring, actually. "Aye, aye, Sir!" Will saluted jauntily. "I can do anything!" He swung around the banister at the head of the ladder to belowdecks, and hopped down into the hold. His hat and ostrich feather bobbed flamboyantly, unremembered by the head it festooned.

"He is an appealing pup," Jack murmured to himself.

*********************************************
The Interceptor lay at anchor, tucked up into a tiny shallow bay barely larger than ten of her hull, surrounded on five of six sides by the palms growing from the low coral atoll. They had spent hours furling the sails and disguising her mast as the tallest of the palms on the island. Jack's sharp manner had betrayed his nervousness throughout the process, but now that the sun was setting and the concealment was complete, he returned to his more characteristic good nature.

"That's well done then." Jack said, relieved. He sucked at one of many minor cuts on his hand, received from the razor-edged palm fronds. "We've still some hours before the current shifts with the night breeze and the tides. No sense in rowing against it at the moment, when we can arrive at the same time with a quarter of the effort.

"Come on and let's see if we can get another bite to eat in you, Will." Jack continued, as he clapped an arm across the other man's shoulder and guided him down to the galley, where they had eaten Will's attempts at cooking, a few hours earlier. "We'll be drinking socially this evening, and it would behoove you to lay down a good base in advance, if you're going to be knocking them back with this crowd."

Will turned his head, and caught his captain full in the face with the pink ostrich feather. Jack sputtered, and snatched the offending article from Will's crown.

"Sorry..." Will began, but Jack held up a hand to forestall him.

"No apologies, just that it's time to remove the hats for the evening," Jack bared his gold-flecked teeth, and removed his own battered leather tricorne as well. "Even if you are tremendously fetching in the thing, lad." Jack smirked and winked.

As they chewed on the remaining now-stale biscuits and slurped cold potato chowder, Will rolled his shoulders again, fighting the stiffness that was settling there. "Still sore, eh?" Jack queried. "Here, mate. Swing 'round this way. I'll untie the knots for ye." Jack straddled the bench behind Will, and brought his hands up to Will's neck.

After a moment or two of Jack's expert fingers on his shoulders, Will inhaled deeply and his eyelids drooped. "Thanks, Jack," he said in a drowsy voice. "I guess I'm just not accustomed to wrapping sails and climbing trees and steering boats."

"S'alright, mate. At least you didn't spend the day leaned over the rail, feeding the fishies, which is what I half expected ye to do." Jack's hands were working their way down the muscles on either side of Will's spine, the thumbs circling and releasing the tension from the young man's back. "So...tell me about this girl of yours, then." Will's back suddenly returned to its former rigidity, every tendon and ligament pulled taut with the strain of his emotions. Before Will could reply that Miss Swann was not "his girl", Jack exploded.

"Bloody Hell! You are a useless menace, to yourself and to those around you, boy!" Jack stood and made as if to kick the bench over, but remembered in time that the seating in a ship's mess would be nailed to the floor. Instead he grabbed Will by the shoulders, roughly, and cried, "I cannot take you into Bloody TORTUGA, if you are this wound up over that pretty little bit of tail! I've seen you today! You can't keep your mind on a task for more than three minutes at a time. You gaze off to the distance, and you grow a bulge in yer breeches! It's been painfully obvious that I was mistaken about the eunuch business. How long has it been since you got any, mate? Because I can tell you right now, it's been far too long!"

Will sputtered incoherently, incapable of forming a response.

"Well? I asked you a question, lad." Jack moved in close to Will's face, and whispered so that Will could feel his breath, touching his lips. "How long since someone made you cry out in passion, eh? How long since anyone's done...this?"

Jack reached up behind Will's head, and covered the blacksmith's mouth with his own. Entwining his fingers through Will's hair at the nape of the neck, Jack sought entry past the lips with his tongue. Startled beyond belief, Will opened his mouth to speak, but was unable to make any noises but muffled ones. And he found his body responding to the passionate kissing that Jack was inflicting on him.

Jack disentangled his left hand from the brown locks he held, reached down to feel the front of Will's breeches, and detected the firmness growing there. He chuckled through the kiss, and began to stroke the fabric in earnest. Will moaned quietly, and Jack took that as a sign that he could ease off on the kiss, and come up for a bit of air.

Jack was mistaken.

"Bloody Hell!" It was Will's turn to swear. He shoved Jack away from himself as roughly as he could. "What are you doing?"

Jack laughed. "It seems I'm trying to get you to a sane mental state, by getting into your pants, luv."

Will backed away further, his eyes wide. "No..."

"Alright. Then our bargain is null and void. I'll let you off wherever you find it convenient. Tortuga to your liking? Or shall we sail back to Jamaica? It's been a while since I've visited the Keys..."

"You're breaking your word?" Will was bewildered, out of his depth, and was still combating his body's response to Jack's kiss.

"No, you're the one who broke the accord first, luv. You said you'd do anything, even die, for your fair lady." Jack placed his hand over his heart dramatically. "But now, you say you won't have a little roll in the sheets, to clear your head; and I can tell you, that head needs to be cleared!" Jack paused to give Will a moment to take in his words. "I won't go further with you on this venture, unless and until you find some way to clear the cobwebs, lad. Otherwise, I can virtually guarantee you'll be the death of me, savvy?" Jack folded his arms over his chest. "I don't see what the problem is, mate. We're stuck here for a couple of hours anyway. What have you got to lose?"

Will ducked his head in a vain attempt to hide his blush, but even in the dim lanternlight belowdecks, Jack could see it.

"Ye Gods and Monsters. Ye never have done?" Jack was stunned to silence. In the world he inhabited, for a handsome lad to reach the age and maturity of a journeyman blacksmith and still to have never tasted the pleasures of the flesh? It was unheard of.

"I..." Will stammered and looked at the floor. "I..."

Jack stepped forward, and took Will's chin in his hand. Raising the contorted face so he could look Will in the eye, Jack quietly stated, "I think ye best come with me, luv. We're doin' this one right." Jack released his chin and grasped Will's right hand in his own left, and led him through the ship. On the passage over the deck, the Pirate leaned down and lifted Will's pink plumed hat from the boards, and carried it along. He then threw open the door to the Captain's Quarters. Releasing Will's hand, Jack ordered Will to sit on the bed and lit the tapers around the room.

"I-I-I'd rather it was dark, actually." Will's voice shook.

Jack pouted. "But then I can't watch you enjoy it."

"I-I-I'm not enjoying it."

"But you will." Jack's vulpine grin lit his face. They had long since discarded their waistcoats in the heated exercise of disguising the ship, and both wore only shirts, breeches, and boots at this point. He knelt at Will's feet, and tugged off each boot with an expert pull and twist motion. He took each foot, one at a time, and massaged it firmly. Then he stepped gracefully out of his own boots, and kicked the four into a pile beneath the bed.

Jack rose and sat on the bed at Will's side, then reached over and slowly, painstakingly, unfastened each button on Will's muslin shirt. Running his hands over Will's nearly hairless chest, he leaned over and kissed him again, far more gently this time. Will neither pulled away nor responded. After a moment, Jack paused to remove his own shirt. As he did so, he said, "Some things you need to know. Love play is a game. But the object is not to come in first, but rather to come in last. And ladies always go first. Anything that happens here tonight is not to be spoken of, later. Kissing and telling is ungentlemanly. And finally, Relax! We're not leaving this boat until you're less tightly strung, lad."

Jack's body was a canvas of tattoos, scars, and even a shark bite. Will's eyes grew wide when he saw that, and he reached to touch the semi-circle of tiny, untanned triangle scars. Jack let him explore briefly, and then leaned in to suck at Will's neck. As Jack's hand slid over Will's chest, pausing to give some attention to the hardening nipple, Will's hand also moved over Jack's skin, feeling the texture, the tiny divots of scars, the slightly rougher tattoos, and the nubbin of Jack's nipple as well.

Jack's hands slid around the back of Will, and their mouths sought each other. Jack leaned back on the bed, pulling Will over atop him as he dropped back to lie on the pillows. Will was the first to use his tongue in this kiss, and Jack let him lead, although inexpertly. Jack's hands played over the muscles of his shoulders, and down his back to clutch at his buttocks through the breeches.

Will broke off their kiss. "Ow! damn! ouch!" he whispered, and pulled away to kneel above Jack's legs. Will's hand darted into his own pants and readjusted his offending member, which had grown in an awkward position, and was bending in a painful way in the folds of fabric.

Jack laughed heartily, and reached into his own breeches to adjust his own growing problem. "How about you help me loosen these a bit?" Jack asked. Will's hands trembled, but he managed the laces somehow. Jack arched his back and lifted his hips, hoping to get his hint across, and Will obliged by sliding the leather down below his thighs. Jack squirmed and kicked them off to the foot of the bed. "Now you're wearing too much, luv," Jack purred as he lay on his back, nude. His hair was dark all over, but not particularly thick, except on his head. His cock stood stiff and ready. It suddenly occurred to Will that Jack was equally tanned stem to stern.

Will looked at Jack's body silently, as he unlaced his own breeches. He stepped out of the bed to stand on the floor and drop them off his ankles, but before he could return to the bed and Jack's side, the pirate spoke.

"Wait." He was breathless. "Wait." He looked Will up and down. Will's mainmast stood at attention, his slender hips barely curving on either side, the bones of the pelvis making shadows across his pale skin. He was dark-skinned above the beltline, but pale as moonlight from the waist to the knees. Jack took his fingers and on each side, traced the line from the crest of the bone to Will's thigh. Then he took the shaft and enclosed it in his hands, just holding it still, watching Will's face the entire time. The play of shock and joy and madness and intensity that passed over Will's face was a beautiful sight. "Ah," Jack sighed, "I love the view of unexplored territory," but Will did not hear him. Jack pulled gently on the convenient handle, urging Will back into the bed with him, and guiding the young man to lie atop him.

Will gasped and shivered as the skin of their bodies touched along their full length. "Jack," he whispered. "Jack... I can't..." The sweat stood out in droplets on Will's back, and Jack smoothed the spots to a glistening sheen with his sea-roughened hands.

"Hush, hush..." Jack reassured. "Yes, you can." And he began to grind their hips together. The smooth skin of their erections glided together with a slippery intensity. Jack's hands held Will's hips firmly against his own, and squeezed nearly hard enough to bruise. He sought Will's mouth with his own: hungry, devouring, ravenous, seeking to acquire every mote of the younger man's existence, through his kiss.

Will's eyes closed. Jack's skin smelled of sweat and salt and rum and... something else. Something he had not the words for. As Jack sucked at his tongue, he felt his loins tighten for release, and he cried out. Jacks fingers marked his skin as he shuddered and bucked against the pirate.

Jack's bellyskin grew warmer and wetter, and Will collapsed bonelessly into him. Jack let him lie for a moment or two, and then grunted, "Yer a bit heavy, darlin'. Ye mind?" He rolled Will off of himself, to the wall side of the bed, then tugged at the soft linen pillowcase behind his head, removing it from the pillow. He dabbed their skins clean with the fabric, and tossed it across the room. "Well. You're quite the sprinter, luv. Can't say as I'm surprised, but then there's still plenty of time yet, so that's not a worry."

Will's eyes flew open. Jack was holding the Pink Hat. He drew out the ostrich feather, and twirled it between thumb and forefinger. It bounced and fluttered enticingly. "How ticklish are ye, lad?" Will's eyes grew wider. Jack set down the hat carefully on the nightstand, and then sat astraddle Will's legs at the knee.

The feather played back and forth across Will's chest. Will smiled, amused. Jack smiled back. The feather circled in a figure eight, looping each nipple with every pass. Then the figure rotated to circle Will's bellybutton and sternum. "Is this really necessary?" Will inquired, as the feather dipped lower towards his nether regions.

Jack lifted the feather out of the way, to gain an unimpeded view of Will's body. With his other hand, he cupped Will's flaccid member. Grimacing in dismay, Jack said, "Looks like it is, luv."

"No, I mean, can't we be done now?" Will asked. "I did what you asked of me."

Jack's eyes flared. "Listen here, you scurvy whelp!" He took a deep breath to calm himself, then shook his head sadly. "I feel sorry for whoever becomes your wife," Jack murmured.

Will's eyes were drawn downward to Jack's still-very-erect cock. His mouth formed a little "oh" of dismay. Jack's shoulders shook with amusement. "Ah, the boy has a thought pass through his little brain. Watch as it dawns on him!"

Will's strong arms suddenly reached up and encircled Jack's shoulders, pulling him down into an embrace. Will kissed Jack's lips, and ran his hands up and down Jack's back. Then, tentatively at first, Will reached around to the front of Jack's groin to touch the firm smoothness there. Jack's was different than his own, he was struck by the thought. Just a bit longer, but less big around. He found himself wanting to look. And he began to swell again, himself. He stroked Jack gently, in a way he liked to stroke himself, although the angle was different: fingers around the front and palm gliding over the head.

He looked at Jack's face. Jack was enjoying it! He could make Jack moan! The thought of it made Will a little light-headed. How did he get himself in this position, anyway?

Jack's eyes caught Will's "Hold that thought," said Jack. And he hopped out of the bed and disappeared through the doorway. Will lay in the bed, bewildered, vulnerable and confused.

The ostrich feather fluttered on the floor beside the bed, forgotten.

Jack returned in just a moment, carrying a small earthenware jar, a wooden spoon, and a small blue-glass flask stoppered with cork.

Will had gone soft again in Jack's absence. "What in heaven is that?" Will wondered aloud.

"Heaven in a jar, mate." Jack set his cargo on the bedside table. He examined the things he had brought, and came to a quick decision. Lifting the lid from the earthenware jar, he dipped his finger in the golden contents, and placed it to Will's lips. Will tasted honey...honey flavored with just a touch of lavender. Jack raised an eyebrow and lifted the finger to his own lips, sucking it rhythmically in and out of his mouth.

Then Jack dipped the spoon in the jar, twirled it carefully, and lifted it with a deft flick of his wrist. Quickly moving it over Will's skin, he drizzled a thin, cool stream of it onto the un-erect member. Jack smiled wickedly at the involuntary recoil that it did. Dropping the spoon back in the jar, he leaned over Will's cock and lapped at the honey gently with his tongue.

Will gasped and stiffened. Some parts of him more than others.

"Ye like that one, eh?" Jack inquired solicitously. "How 'bout this?" An he took the head in his mouth and laved it vigorously, in circles.

Will felt as if explosions were going off inside his body. Never had he imagined anything so...

"That's enough for you, mate. I doubt we've time for a Three-Fer, tonight at any rate." Jack interrupted. "My turn." Jack grabbed the pot of honey, and passed it to Will, then lay back on the pillow, arms behind his head expectantly. "Don't be shy."

But Will was shy anyway. Or scared. He fumbled with the spoon handle, and some dribbled on the sheets before he got it to Jack's body; but soon Will was lost in the play of the candlelight on the thin stream of honey, as it fell on Jack. He made tiny designs with the fine line of sugary substance, wandering his spoon up and down the canvas of Jack's entire front.

Jack cleared his throat. "And...?"

Will set down to honey jar. He looked at Jack. Jack was beautiful. His beads, his hair, his scars and tattoos. His eyes.

His smile.

Will lowered his mouth to Jack's cock, and took it inside. The sweetness of the honey was exquisite. The lavender mixed with the musk of Jack's skin to create a heady blend of scent and taste. He began to move up and down along the length, just as Jack had done to him a few moments earlier. He brought his hands up, and cupped Jack's balls and massaged the base of the cock in his mouth. He felt the hardness between his lips strain with further intensity. A smile played at the corner of Will's mouth. He was good at this. He concentrated on listening to the signals that Jack was giving, voluntary and involuntary. He found it surprisingly arousing to watch another's pleasure.

He concentrated so intently on Jack's enjoyment, that he almost missed it. Jack began to subtly throb, and he whispered, "Ready or not, luv..."

Will nearly choked, but the sweetness of the honey helped him to swallow... and swallow... and swallow... as Jack spent himself in gush after gush into the younger man's mouth. The taste wasn't really unpleasant, just very... different. Will knew he'd never eat honey again without thinking of this moment.

Jack grinned. "It's an acquired taste, I'll grant you. But lucky for you, I seem to have acquired it." Still coated in honey over most of his torso, Jack sat up and held Will tight against himself. Sliding downward and spreading the sticky mess all over Will as he went, Jack paused at strategic points on his way south to lick and kiss and nibble the various tasty bits he encountered.

Will was lost in a world of sensation as Jack did so. And when Jack finally brought that mouth over his sex for the second time that night, Will plunged over the edge of that abyss instantly. Everything went black for a moment, and he was lost to sight and sound as the blood pounded in his veins and Jack seemed to suck out the very marrow of his being.

Will gradually returned to normal cognizance. Jack was sprawled next to him, gazing at him with playful eyes.

Jack leaned forward and whispered in Will's ear. "Last one in the water is a pox-ridden monkey!" and he bounded over Will and out the doorway, his naked bits dangling and flapping in a ludicrous fashion as he ran. Will leapt up to pursue, but as he did so, he stepped with a honey-coated foot on the ostrich feather that still drifted lazily beneath the captain's bed.

Balancing on the other foot to remove it, Will paused, and smiled. Carefully, licking his fingers clean before he did so, he retrieved his Pink Hat, and decorously placed the feather back in its rightful place on the band. Then, shaking the hair back out of his face with a toss of his head, he put the hat on and swaggered out onto the deck.

"Nice hat." And he smiled.
 

 

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Comments (feedback) are the life-blood of the fanfic loop.  Writers love to hear from their readers, be it a simple "I read your story and liked (or didn't like) it." or detailed constructive criticism (con crit). Hearing what you, the reader, thinks about a story helps a writer improve and helps to assure that future stories are ones you will want to read.
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