A Pirate's Heart

A Pirate's Heart - Part One "A Pirate's Eyes"

Disclaimer: The characters are the legal property of Disney and other rich people. I make no claim to the characters used, and do not profit from this in any way.


Will stared out across the black ocean, shivering as the wind nipped at his bones. Nothing for miles but vast expanses of black clouds and black sea. Nothing inside his soul but a black heart and black thoughts.

He heard a footfall behind him but didn't turn to regard it. It could be no other but the single one he was forced to spend this journey with. The one who had named him "pirate".

He'd been raised to hate pirates, almost born to it, as dogs are born to hate cats for no reason at all. Yet he was half of one. Jack was right, pirate was in his blood whether he liked it or not, but he didn't know how or when he was meant to square with that. And could he accept that his father was a pirate and a good man? Could a pirate be a good man? Could a good man be a pirate? Was Jack a good man? He hadn't mocked Will at all on telling him. Certainly he'd thrown the news none at him too gently. But he'd just offered his advice. Will really didn't have any need to feel so angry with him, yet he did. Jack was the one who'd just made his entire life a lie.

Will wondered why his mother had never told him the truth. She probably thought, or hoped, that he'd never find out. Surely she had known, so why had she lied? Shame? Pride? And for his sake or her own?

What had happened between his parents to take his father to sea when he was a baby? What had happened that made him never come back, not even for the son he sent love and gold to in letters? Perhaps he had found himself a pretty lover on some seedy island.

There was only one person who could have answered these questions, but Jack had been quiet since telling Will the truth about his father. He hadn't seemed to want to talk about it to start with. Will had asked him where his father was now, he couldn't answer that. He had asked him how he knew him, he wouldn't answer that. He asked him how well he had known him and Jack had given a little flinch and only replied 'well enough'. He hadn't spoken a word since. Strange for the man who never seemed to stop talking, even when one was trying to take his head off with a sword.

There was more than what the Captain was telling him, he knew it. There was a plot in Jack's head somewhere and Will was worried as to what it might be. Jack wanted him for his own means and it was something to do with his father.

Perhaps he should sneak up on the pirate unawares and take his sword to his throat, but he doubted he would get anymore out of him if he did. And Jack would only cheat him again and throw him into the sea.

Or he could kill Jack, but that would leave him stranded in the middle of the ocean with no way of getting home or saving Elizabeth.

Now another footfall, and the faint tinkle of beads. Jack was walking back towards him.

Hurt. That was how he felt. Hurt that his mother had told him so many lies, hurt that his pride could not bear the truth, hurt that Jack had just dumped this on him so callously. And he wanted Elizabeth back. To know that she was safe. Maybe she might notice him then? Perhaps....

"Don't take it all to heart, kid." Jack stopped behind him. "There's nothing you can do to change your blood. Tears won't change it."

Feeling a flush rise to his face, Will gripped the railing before him. "Leave me alone!" He felt an arm fall heavily around his shoulders, even as tears stung in his eyes. He hadn't realised they were forming there. Bitter tears. Angry tears. Tears of shame.

"There's no one here to see you cry but me," Jack said softly next to his ear. "It's just another drop of salt water in the ocean. I'm not going to beat you for it."

Will bit back his emotions, unable to stop himself leaning back against the pirate's light embrace as his legs turned weak. "I said I am fine." He cringed at the lack of conviction in his own voice.

"You feel it, don't you?" Jack whispered. "You feel it in your blood. When I'm this near to you, you feel the connection."

His breath was hot against Will's ear, like the Caribbean breeze on a sultry day, fire upon the skin, anointing him with the faintest hint of rum.

Too close... Jack was standing far too close. If he were to turn around he would have found his face but an inch away from Jack's. Uncomfortable indeed.

And he could move no further forward without diving into the sea. Already the railing was pressing into his belly. He could feel the tension knotting in his muscles and he had to swallow to rid his throat of the cold taste of fear.

He was getting close to turning and smacking the pirate out of the way when Jack took another step forward, successfully pinning him. Now pressed between the ship and her new Captain, Will had nowhere to turn.

Then Jack's hand moved from his shoulder and slid past his collarbone, slipping beneath his shirt to rest against his heart. His hands were rough, dry, sea-worn, but they were warm and Will felt his heart gather speed to catch up pace with the one that pressed into his shoulderblade, thudding into his very being. His blood seemed to sing in response.

Yes... It was there. He could feel it. The same tremulous beat of the heart, like the roaring seas, the billowing of sails. He suddenly found it an effort to keep his breath steady, his heart was thundering like a death toll, the heat from Jack's body radiating into his back like it was taking over his soul, Jack's fingers flexing just slightly over his muscles and the cool bite of a ring into his heated skin just above his nipple.

Goosebumps crawled over him and he shivered while a second before he had been burning. A thought crossed his mind that he was going to faint, then Jack released his hold and stepped back, leaving him to stumble forward to grip the railing.

"It's in you, Will. Same as me." A harsh statement in the darkness. "Pirate. Accept it."

"I will not!" Will turn angrily to punch him only to find his hands caught in a tight grip.

"You haven't a choice," Jack pushed him back against the railing. "But to go mad fighting it."

Will closed his eyes and tried to move from the uncomfortably close proximity of the Captain's body. He felt like he was going mad already, but he had to fight it!

"I... I want...." He wanted to understand, he wanted to understand all the feelings that had lingered in his soul for as long as he could remember. He wanted to know why his heart had always longed for the sea. "I want to know..." he felt himself leaning on Jack once more.

"Shh..." Jack ran a hand through his hair, like a mother would a child and Will didn't know whether to feel comforted or angered by it. "You want it too," he whispered. "You hate it, but you want it. The freedom... to be your own king...to have no one watching you but the moon and the sun and the stars as you float along, one tiny dot in a great big sea. To come and go as you please, and do what you want, and not have to worry about what other folk think." He cupped his hand under Will's chin. "Look at me."

Will raised his head and looked into the pirate's dark eyes. Would he find what he was looking for there? A strange flush crept through his body and he pulled away from Jack's grip. He noticed the ship was no longer moving. They had dropped anchor some time ago. "Are we going now?" he asked hoarsely.

"Aye," Jack replied, sounding very eager indeed. "Tortuga awaits us."

Will found his sleeve caught as he tried to walk ahead. He wanted to get away from Jack's presence as fast as physically possible. That moment had been far too strange for his liking.

"Be careful, young William," Jack said, holding him back. "Your sort could get into trouble in a place like this."

Will nodded, not daring to ask what constituted to 'his sort'. "I'll stay right behind you," he said.

"No," Jack grinned. "You stay right beside me. At all times."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Will watched Jack from across the room, only yards away yet seeming miles away to his fading vision. The pirate was slouching in the corner of a bench, one leg sprawled lazily beneath the table, his toe scuffing in the dust on the floor, talking with a coarse tongue and elegant hands as he laughed with Mr Gibbs before the old man departed.

His fingers were mesmerizing Will, weaving an elaborate dance in the smoky air, the candlelight flickering now and then on the ring on his right hand. His hands didn't seem like pirate's hands to Will, other than the dirt that marred the long slender fingers, a tattered cuff slipping over his wrist from beneath his coat sleeve.

Once Jack was alone, Will was in half a mind to move across the room to sit beside him, to demand to know what he and Mr Gibbs had spoken so fertively about, but he could see Jack was on the make. He was scanning the tavern, his eyes roaming over every woman in the building.

Will sat back in his seat, taking another drink of ale. He was starting to feel rather drunk, but he decided that if he had to spend the whole evening in the presence of Jack, it might be better not to be sober. Perhaps after a few more drinks he'd stop feeling so furious and stop risking doing something stupid.

He kept watching Jack as he looked at a woman across the room with a exasperated expression, then his eyes settled on a lad that had been pacing around the tables all night. The boy was looked no older than Will himself, yet he was a lot smaller, delicately boned. He was a rather scruffy looking creature with dredlocked blond hair, a worn overcoat and breeches that looked a little too snug (or maybe that was the intention?). Of face, he was prettier than any woman in the bar, and Will wondered at Jack's intentions as the pirate beckoned with a turn of the head and the lad smiled and slid into the seat beside the Captain, folding himself into the bench and drawing one knee up to mirror Jack's pose.

Will shook his head and looked away, glancing around the room. Some pirates were engaged in a brawl by the door, a whore was lifting her skirts by the bar. He looked back to Jack. He was too far away to hear the conversation but he tried to make what he could of the gestures. Jack seemed to ask something, the lad nodded to a dark looking pirate at the bar and Jack grinned, shrugging.

Then Jack's eyes slid across to Will and Will looked down into his half empty mug, not wanting Jack to think that he was watching him. Even so, he looked back up as soon as he felt the pirate's eyes leave him.

Jack looked strange in the half-light, the candlelight making his dark skin glow bronze. Flickering shadows flirted across his face, picking out the accents of a straight nose and high cheekbones and ever-smirking lips. His eyes looked impossibly dark, almost black, ringed in dark smudges of kohl. On anyone else it would have looked ludicrous, and Will tried to convince himself that it looked ludicrous on Jack, just like that ridiculous hat and the gold teeth, but it was to no avail. The thought kept returning to his head that Jack was actually rather attractive.

For a pirate....

No, Jack was actually rather attractive. And Will was rather drunk, but he couldn't stop himself thinking that thought. Drunk, it didn't seem as shameful to think it. Yes, he had thought it before, the first moment he'd laid his eyes on Jack.

Tidy him up a bit, give him a wash and a shave and a haircut, and he may be passable....

Tidied up, he may actually look pretty, if a man could be called pretty. Will knew with a curl of the lip that he had been called a'pretty boy' by some of the sailors at Port Royal when he hadn't meant to hear. Jack wasn't like him, and he wasn't like the pretty boy sitting next to him. Jack was wild and untamed, unmanageable as the sea that had eroded him with time, carving this striking image.

Will felt those deep eyes on him again, but this time only for a second. Even so the intensity of the oh-so brief glance made him shiver and he turned his eyes to the lad at Jack's side to move away from the stare. He could see beneath the table that their legs were pressed closer than they should be. He wondered if Jack knew the lad. He didn't appear to, and in that respect the level of physical intimacy was disturbing, even for Jack's habit of blatantly ignoring others' need for personal space.

Jack was smiling, a hand now upon the boy's knee, and the lad was looking back at him, head tilted slightly to one side, a shine in his eyes and a coy smile on his lips. Like a flirtatious woman, Will thought.

Then Jack leaned in closer. Will was terrified for one awful moment that he was going to kiss the lad, but instead he tilted his head to whisper something in his ear. What was Jack up to? Will shuddered to think and averted his eyes back into his drink, deciding that was the last time he'd look in that direction.

Until he felt a stare as hot as fire forcing his head back up and he found Jack looking at him over the lad's shoulder, his lips curving into a predatory smile. Will realised with a gulp that the smile was meant for him. Then, as Will was trying to figure this out, Jack's eyes had moved to stare into his new friend's eyes.

Will was torn between staring into his rapidly decreasing ale, and watching to see the next time Jack looked at him. It was like a challenge, a competition, and he knew he was losing. What Jack's intentions were he had not yet dared to try and figure out.

He shook his head again. And oh dear God had Jack just winked at him? Yes, he had. And now his eyes were raking down Will's body, seeming to strip his clothes with every inch.

No, no, now that was just silly. He'd had too much to drink. So why did it make him feel so warm? If Jack had eyes for any man in the room (heaven forbid such a thought), then it was for the boy at his side, not Will.

He blinked, then looked back to Jack and found the pirate's eyes were still on him. And the lad was whispering something in Jack's ear, glancing towards the back door and Jack was nodding. He stood, pulling his coat shut to hide the tense bulge in his breeches but not so fast that Will's eyes didn't get a chance to seek it out.

Now Will was scared to imagine what was going on. That left no doubt to his thoughts about what Jack was up to. It left an uncomfortable taste in his mouth and a flutter in his stomach that to his horror fluttered a little lower than he would have liked it to.

And still those eyes were on him, as the drunken Captain followed the lad out of the door, daring Will to follow with an uncomfortably direct stare that seemed to call to him like the song of a sea siren. He knew he should not pay heed to the summon, he knew in his heart that if he followed he would be crushed on the rocks like the sailors of old. Yet like those poor souls, he was powerless to resist.

Led under this spell, he did follow, staggering around the tables and customers and whores as he made his way through the bar. He fell out of the door, not sure where Jack had gone. He slipped around the corner to stand behind a crude fence, and there Jack was standing with his back pressed against a wall, hands splayed against the bricks. The moonlight painted him blue where the candlelight had painted him bronze but the look was just as dramatic. His face was hidden in shadows but Will could see his eyes were closed and a glimmer of gold told him he was smiling.

The boy from the inn was drawing closer to him, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his mouth. No, not even a kiss, it was something far more dubious than that. It was a lick, a full long lick across Jack's lips.

Then he asked, in a soft girlish voice. "What would you like?"

And Jack replied. "What you're best at, of course."

To that the lad grinned, and dropped to his knees. Will wasn't so ignorant that he didn't know what that meant, but he had never so much as seen (or experienced) the act performed by a woman, let alone a man upon another man.

He had never known of such a thing. Of course, he had heard of it, had heard of sodomite pirates, had seen some hanged with buggery on their list of crimes, but he had never dreamed of seeing it. Never wanted to. It should have made him feel sick but instead he couldn't turn his eyes away.

He didn't need to squint through the darkness to know that Jack was already hard as the lad undid his breeches with a devilish grin. Oh no, he had already seen that back in the bar. He suspected he had been meant to see, but he couldn't fathom why Jack wanted him to see what was about to unfold here. And he couldn't fathom why the hell he was there watching.

He saw Jack's tongue snake out to lick his lips and heard him give a soft moan that sent a shudder through his soul. Almost afraid to look away from Jack's face in case the pirate should open his eyes and turn them in his direction, Will couldn't stop his gaze moving south again. It was a horrid thought to come into his head but he couldn't help but think that Jack's cock was as beautiful as the rest of him, and he bit into his lip as he watched the lad run his fist up and down the length to bring Jack to full hardness before lowering his head to taste him.

He heard another whimpering grunt come from Jack and it seemed to send a lightning bolt to his groin. He watched the pirate's body crumple a little as he slumped against the wall, leaning his head back so the moonlight shone upon his face.

Definitely beautiful. Too beautiful for his own good. Far too beautiful for Will's own good.

The lad had taken him into his mouth, working slowly and deliberately until Will could see a fine layer of sweat glistening on Jack's face. The boy seemed to know his task well, sucking long and slow, drawing back for nips and licks which made Jack groan every time. Will wondered if he had a backless throat, the way he was going, swallowing that deep. He saw the corner of a blue eye open and stare at him, and a smile formed on the lips around Jack's cock. He had been spotted. This seemed to encourage the little strumpet even more, and he sat back on his hauches, taking Jack in his hand while he licked around the head of his cock, saliva glistening upon the darkened skin. He drew a pearl of pre-ejaculate fluid back on his tongue, moaned around it and plunged Jack back into his throat.

"Oh, fuck..." Jack gasped, his hands fisting against the rough brick.

Will leaned against the fence he was skulking around and closed his eyes against the sight. He could feel himself blushing, and wondered how he had enough blood in his face to cause this. It felt like every drop of blood in his body had rushed to his groin. If it had been the intention that he was to be aroused by that act, it was certainly working. He was so hard it hurt and he was contemplating releasing his own breeches to ease the ache that was forming there when he opened his eyes to find Jack staring straight at him.

A wide grin crossed the pirate's lips, then he gave himself over to his release. Will knew he had just been challenged to keep staring and he could do nothing else, his breath quickening as he watched Jack shudder and buckle and gasp, painting the air with some colourful language as he came into the boy's mouth.

So this was the pirate way? Had his father acted like this? How many times had he got drunk and shared ale and rum and whores (and boys?) with Jack while Will had lay curled up in bed dreaming of the day his father would return? A sailor. Not a pirate.

He felt Jack's eyes on him again, and he turned quickly, dashing back into the inn and up the stairs to his room. He unlocked the door, slipped inside and slammed it shut behind him, making the small window above the bed rattle.

He lit a candle, then unstrapped his weapons and hurled them onto the small table. He was furious, and hurt, and too damn warm, and still achingly hard.

Bloody Jack! What had he done to him?! Had he cast a spell on him? Had he put something in his drink?

Unable to bear the prickly heat a moment longer, Will stripped of his clothes and collapsed on to the bed, his head spinning and his heart thumping. As warm as he was, he pulled the rough blanket up far enough to keep his dignity. He wasn't about to let anyone walk in and see him like that.

He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling his head spin madly from the effects of the alcohol. He should not have drunk that much. It had to be the drink making him feel this for Jack.

What was he feeling for Jack? Lust? Desire? A very strange urge to do very inappropriate things with the pirate, an uncontrollable need to crush those pouting, smirking lips beneath his own...

He needed to sleep. Everything would be better after he had slept this off. He closed his eyes and felt himself drifting already, the alcohol pulling him heavily into unconsciousness. He felt the room slip away from him, and hardly cared as he heard footsteps faltering up the stairs outside the door.


~to be continued~