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All at Sea

by Melusina

 

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

 


James and Will had only planned a short day's sail, but a squall came up after lunch, and they were forced to seek shelter in a protected cove. The storm was fierce but short, and after dumping an astonishing amount of rain on them, it passed quickly. They could easily have made it back to Port Royal before nightfall, but they decided to leave the boat anchored and spend the night in the cove. Elizabeth had gone with her father to Antigua, and there was no pressing naval business demanding James' attention; both men were glad to escape their responsibilities.

Although they hadn't planned on dining on the boat, there were sufficient leftovers from lunch for another meal. The bread and cheese were gone, but there was plenty of cold chicken and an orange apiece, not to mention the excellent (and no doubt purloined) brandy that Jack had recently sent James. After some discussion of Swann's business in Antigua, the talk turned to the provenance of the brandy, and, inevitably, to Jack.

It had been two months since James had seen Jack, and with vivid clarity, he remembered the night in the inn. He could still recall the disturbing and enthralling feeling of surrender, and the way the blindfold had heightened his senses. Jack's voice, sultry and cajoling, echoed in James' ear. "You've no idea, James, how much you feel when you can't see." Well, that had been true enough. A warm glow spread through James as he remembered Jack's hands skimming over his body, and Will's mouth. . .

Not for the first time, James wondered about Will's arrangement with Elizabeth. From certain hints Jack had let drop, it seemed that she'd given Will some sort of dispensation, but James had no idea how far it extended. The few times he'd shared a bed with Will, Jack had been there as well, and it had felt unreal and detached from ordinary life, as if that Will (so wanton and willing) wasn't quite the same person as the respectable Will Turner of Port Royal.

". . .do you, James?"

James blinked and realized that he hadn't a clue what Will was talking about. He nodded vaguely, and Will's -- pliable, clever -- mouth quirked. James had the disconcerting feeling that Will knew exactly what direction his thoughts had taken. But to James' great relief, Will didn't pursue it.

"You don't know where Jack is now, do you?" Will repeated, as he scrounged in the hamper. He triumphantly held up two reasonably dry king cakes.

Will carefully picked the currants out of his and threw them to the fish as Will and James speculated on Jack's whereabouts. It was an easy, comfortable conversation, and one that James couldn't imagine having with anyone else. It occurred to him that he had Jack to thank for this; if it weren't for Jack's friendship with Will, he and James would never have become friends.

After dinner, they sprawled on the deck of the small boat, drinking more brandy and watching the sun set. The dying light gilded the clouds on the horizon and turned the sails flame red, like a picture from a storybook. The rain had cooled the air, and as night came on, James shivered in his still-damp breeches. "I wish I had a dry coat," he grumbled, "Or for that matter a dry shirt."

Will laughed. "You've grown thin-skinned from too much time in the Caribbean. I don't believe we'll freeze tonight."

James shoved at him good-naturedly, and Will obligingly scooted up to James. Will always seemed to be warm, as if, after so much time in the forge, he'd absorbed its heat into his skin. They sat together quietly as the sky grew dark. The waxing moon was a sharp crescent in the sky, with the bright pinpoint of Venus below it, and the single lantern cast a golden pool of light over the deck. Again James was reminded of the inn, and the isolated, removed feel of the candlelit room.

"Well," said Will forlornly, "That's the end of the brandy."

"We could play cards," James suggested. Testing the waters, he cast Will a sidelong glance and grinned. "If I'd brought any cards."

"I could read aloud from the book of sermons that the Governor gave me for Christmas." Will grazed James' calf with his bare foot. "Except I'm afraid I left it at home this morning."

James returned the pressure and moved his hand to the nape of Will's neck. He dragged his thumb across the short, fine hairs. "And my book was in my coat pocket. I expect it's ruined from the rain."

Will stretched, pressing the length of his body against James. His exaggerated yawn didnít quite manage to hide the laughter in his voice. "Never mind. It's been a long day; maybe we should retire?"

"We'll have to be off early in the morning," James agreed.

Without warning, Will shifted his weight and pinned James to the deck. "Or we could find some other way to occupy ourselves. . ."

Chuckling, James pulled Will down for a leisurely kiss and inhaled the heady scent of French brandy mingled with rain and sweat. His mouth slipped down, and stubble prickled at his lips. Underneath the salt, Will's skin tasted faintly smoky, even after the rain.

Will's tongue was tickling James' ear, and unexpectedly he nipped at the lobe. In retaliation, James sank his teeth into Will's shoulder, eliciting a low growl. When Will dug his fingers into James' hips and deliberately rubbed their pricks together, James gasped, and very devoutly wished that they'd had the forethought to strip off their breeches before they'd started.

There was a splash off the bow, but Will was whispering lewd suggestions in James' ear, and James barely registered the sound. Then, just as Will's fingers began to insinuate themselves into James' breeches, a hand appeared on the rail, followed by a head of wet, dark hair. Jack vaulted over the rail and stood over them, sea water dripping off his naked body.

Will and James fell apart in a mad scramble and Jack snorted with laughter. "You look like two boys caught diddling one another in the hold!"

Sullenly, Will said, "Next time you're enjoying yourself, let's drip cold water all over you and see how you like it."

More practically, James asked, "Where the devil did you come from, anyways?"

Jack gestured toward the beach laconically, and then plopped down between them.

"More to the point, how did you know where to find us? Or do you make a point of climbing onto strange boats in the all together?"

"Oh you know," Jack waved vaguely, "This and that -- it's all a matter of proper prognostication."

Will made a skeptical noise. "It would've served you right if it had been a boat full of strangers."

"When have I ever been caught unawares like that?"

More times than I can count, thought James. Will merely shook his head and sighed.

Jack threw an arm over each of their shoulders. "Now then," he said with a glinting grin, "Where were we?"

"Who said you were invited?" Beneath the irritation, there was a teasing note in Will's voice.

James caught Will's eye and some silent communication passed between them. As Jack opened his mouth to make a (no doubt smug, self-satisfied) reply, Will and James moved together to twist his arms behind his back. Jack yelped in surprise and struggled, but Will held him still while James secured his arms to the rail with a spare bit of line.

"What do you mean by that?"

With great satisfaction, James said, "What's the matter, Jack, don't you trust me?"


Jack blinked, not entirely sure he liked hearing his own words turned against him so neatly. This was most definitely not what he'd had in mind when he snuck onto James' boat.

Will nodded sagely. "Turnabout's fair play."

Jack gave him a black look. Whose side was Will on anyway? Then, realizing the futility of protesting, Jack turned on the charm. "So it is." He tipped his head and smiled magnanimously. "Never let it be said that Captain Jack Sparrow reneged on a deal. Do your worst, gentlemen." Holding James' gaze, Jack let his voice drop to a seductive purr. "You know, love, if you'd wanted to play at the commodore and the pirate, all you had to do is ask. I'm game for most--"

James gripped Jack's shoulders and coldly interjected, "Jack, shut up, or I shall have to gag you. And as tempting as that thought is, I rather think we'll have a use for your mouth at some point tonight."

A bolt of pure lust shot through Jack's body, and he felt himself growing hard. Belatedly realizing that his mouth was hanging open, he snapped it shut and leaned back, with what he hoped was a passably nonchalant air.

"Much better." Then, with an infuriatingly smug smile, James turned to Will and they began whispering to one another. As much as it pleased Jack to see them getting along so well together, it did give him a bit of a turn for them to be conspiring against him like this. They seemed to come to some agreement, for the conversation ended with a burst of crude laughter, and they began tugging at one another's breeches, interspersing their labors with teasing kisses.

They were a pretty sight -- the lantern limned them both with gold, and James' pale hands contrasted nicely against Will's muscular back -- but Jack was beginning to feel downright neglected. Before he could complain, Will broke away from James and sauntered over. He knelt between Jack's legs with a roguish look, and his soft hair ticked the insides of Jack's thighs. He blew teasingly on Jack's belly, and Jack swallowed hard. Then Will's tongue flicked out, touching the head of Jack's cock, and Jack bit his lip to keep from crying out. Will traced a sinuous path down to Jack's balls and sucked each one in his mouth in turn, laving them with his tongue.

Dimly Jack remembered that he'd planned to put up a brave front, but then Will licked the sensitive skin behind his balls and Jack heard himself whimper.

"Jack, open your eyes."

He hadn't realized that he'd closed them. James was standing directly in front of him, lazily stroking his yard. The message was clear, and Jack was self-possessed enough to lick his lips and grin before James slowly slid himself into Jack's mouth.

Jack prided himself on his abilities in this department, and he made a valiant effort to please, but Will (who'd learned from the best after all) proved unbearably distracting. Jack's breath caught in his throat and he faltered.

A cool hand cupped Jack's cheek. "If you stop, he stops."

Jack made another attempt. It was awkward at this angle, and without the use of his hands, but he was keeping up his end of the bargain, and he felt an obscure satisfaction at that.

Will's pace never varied and the wet suction kept Jack right on the edge. With increasing desperation, Jack began to suspect that he wouldn't be allowed to come until James did. He redoubled his efforts, and, as if to reward him, James buried his fingers in Jack's hair, holding his head in place and thrusting hard. It took a moment for Jack to adjust to the depth, but after that it was easier. He no longer had to think; he simply had to hold his mouth open and let James fuck it.

In a surprisingly short time, James' grip tightened and he pulled back, coming all over Jack's face with a hoarse cry. Jack arched up, his whole body tightening in anticipation, and then, abruptly, Will's mouth was gone, and his fingers were pressing tightly against the base of Jack's prick.

Jack wailed in complaint, too far gone for words. Will slithered up his body and licked Jack's face clean. A sloppy kiss followed, flavored with the bitter taste of James' seed.

Presently James joined then on the deck, and was whispering in Jack's ear, "Not yet. . .Not until you beg for it."

Jack wondered how the hell he was supposed to have begged for it with James' cock down his throat, but there didnít seem to be much use in pointing that out. Instead, he offered a prompt "Please?"

James replied with a sardonic laugh. "That's a bit too calculated for my tastes. What do you think, Will, can we provoke a sincere response by sunrise?"

The thought of the hours that stretched out until dawn made Jack groan in genuine dismay. He began to wonder why he'd every encouraged James and Will's friendship.

Will cocked his head and there was something strangely familiar about the devilish grin he gave James. "At any rate, it'll be fun trying. . ."

By the time this conversation was over, Jack was eager for any attention. James slipped his fingers into Jack's mouth and Jack sucked and licked shamelessly. Then wet fingers were stretching him and opening him up with a slow, sweet burn. In and of itself, that was promising, but the leisurely pace and the cool amusement with which James was surveying Jack left much to be desired.

There was something James had wanted from him, but it was impossible to think with James' fingers twisting and sliding in and out. Jack squirmed, trying to get James' fingers further inside him. "More, dammit. . ."

James crooked his fingers and Jack gasped and strained at the rope. James tsked and held his hand still.

In increasing desperation, Jack moaned, "Please. . ."

James' eyes flashed in the lantern light. "Better, but not good enough. Keep trying. . ."

Jack had lost track of Will, and so he was completely unprepared when his wrists, still tied together, were released from the rail, and he was rolled over to face the deck. There was a cool splash of oil trickling between his legs and onto his aching prick, and then Will's weight pressed Jack to the deck and Will was pushing into him inexorably. The burning fullness of it was overwhelming, and each stroke drove Jack closer to the edge. He was pleading in earnest now, repeating Will and James' names and babbling incoherently.

Without pulling out, Will turned him on his side, allowing James to snug himself along Jack's front, stopping Jack's pleas with a bruising kiss. Will thrust harder, pushing Jack against James, and Jack and James' cocks slid together deliciously. The rope was cutting into Jack's wrists, but he couldn't think about that because James was biting on his bottom lip and then Will set his teeth to Jack's shoulder and it all came together, and Jack was screaming against James' mouth and coming apart at the seams.

When he returned to his senses, Will was digging his fingers into Jack's shoulders and shuddering in the throes of his own release. After a time he grew still and said, "My God. . .That was. . ." He made a contented sound and repeated, "My God. . ."

Too exhausted to talk, Jack grunted in agreement. The lantern suddenly seemed too bright, and he closed his eyes against the glare. Will and James were murmuring and laughing quietly, but Jack was too dazed to follow the conversation. The rocking of the boat was soothing, and he was nearly asleep when James cut the ropes binding his wrists and then lay down beside him again.

As Jack drifted off, a pleasant thought occurred to him. "Will?"

"Hmmm?"

"What's that you were saying about turnabout? Your turn next. . ."
 

 

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