Treasure

Will stared about him, feeling more than a little intimidated as he watched Jack saunter his way across the drunken brawl of the Tortugan tavern. Jack drew up beside him long enough to mutter, “Keep a sharp eye,” before joining Gibbs at a nearby table in a more secluded corner of the room.

“Now,” Gibbs said, “tell me about this venture of yours.”

Casting his eye over the other occupants of the tavern and lowering his voice, Jack said boldly, “I’m going after the Black Pearl. I know where it’s gonna be, an’ I’m gonna take it.”

Jack smirked as he watched Gibbs choke on his rum before replying, “Jack, it’s a fool’s errand. Barbossa’s not going t’ let you just want in an’ take his ship.”

“Let’s just say it’s a matter of leverage,” Jack said, glancing pointedly at Will. “That there, is the only child of Bootstrap Bill Turner. Barbossa’s not likely to turn that down.”

Gibbs’s face broke into a smile of understanding. “‘Leverage,’ says you. ‘I think I feel a change in the wind,’ says I,” he replied.

As Gibbs and Jack downed their tankards of rum, Will slipped quietly away to wait for Jack outside, trying bitterly to suppress the tears of hurt betrayal that were threatening to overcome him.

* * *

Will flopped down on his bed in exhaustion. It had been two days since he and Jack had gathered their crew in Tortuga. Now, they were speeding after the Black Pearl towards the Isla de Muerta.

Jack had been working them all hard, keeping the ship in excellent condition, but wearing them all out in the process. That, combined with being cooped up on a boat with Jack and several insane crewmen, was slowly driving Will out of his mind. The only sane person on board seemed to be Anamaria, and even she could be trying when she and Jack had arguments (an almost twice-daily occurrence).

Will was feeling even more disgruntled than usual, however, because the previous night he’d had a very…unsettling dream. His face burned with shame as he recalled how, in the dream, Jack had been kissing and touching him in very inappropriate places, and instead of feeling disgusted, he’d enjoyed it, begged for more, pleaded Jack to take him right then and there. To make matters worse, he’d awoken from the dream with a quite uncomfortable problem in his trousers.

Sighing, he heaved himself out of bed and went to sit at a small desk that served as the only other piece of furniture in his small quarters, save of course, his bed. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep anytime soon for fear that he’d somehow slip back into that dream.

Scanning the desktop, he idly straightened the few items that he kept there: parchment, a pen, a small bottle of ink, a spare candle, a box of matches, and some charcoal.

Will had become quite good at working with charcoal. There’d always been so much of it around in the smithy from keeping the fires going all day. Often, when he was first brought to Port Royal, he would take small bits of charcoal from the dying embers at nighttime, and crawl under his bed, setting a candle on the floor beside the bed for light. He would sketch pictures on the wooden boards on the underside of his bed, and eventually, when he ran out of room, he had begun to draw on the floorboards directly under his bed, where Mr. Brown wouldn’t think to look.

It was his way of distracting himself at night. Often, when he would blow out the candles, he would fall back into that time when the ship carrying his mother had been destroyed. In the darkness, he could still hear her calling his name before the dark waters had pulled her under to her death.

Will shuddered, shaking away the memories of the past and picked up a stick of charcoal, fingering it distractedly for a moment, loving the fragile way it felt compared to the hard metal he was so accustomed to working with.

Pulling a sheet of parchment toward him, he began to press into the paper, not quite sure yet what he was drawing, but then he never really knew in the beginning. He just let his hand run free across the page, going wherever it wished, and before long he would begin to see shapes forming. His movements would be more precise then, sometimes whittling the charcoal away to almost nothing to form a fine point to fill in the finer details.

An image was beginning to form now; Jack at the wheel of a ship. Will began to layer the charcoal thickly on the page, trying to capture the pirate’s dark, unkempt hair and kohl-blackened eyes.

Will sat back and surveyed his work. It was quite good, one of his best works in fact. He’d somehow manages to convey that magnificent gleam in Jack’s eyes when he was steering a ship. Will leaned over to blow out the candle, but before he could, a voice spoke from just behind him.

“Not bad.”

Will jumped out of his chair, knocking it over in the process. Jack was standing there, smirking at him. “Nervous are we?” Jack raised an amused eyebrow.

“Only when people sneak up on me,” Will grumbled indignantly. Why didn’t you knock?”

“It’s me ship. I can do what I want,” he stated plainly. “Besides, I doubt ye would have heard me anyway, ye were so intent on yer drawing. May I?”

Without waiting for a reply, Jack swept the parchment off Will’s desk and examined it closely. Will half expected the pirate to make some snide remark on it. However, the seconds ticked by and Jack said nothing, his face unreadable.

“Ye shouldn’t be wastin’ yer time with these scribbles,” he said at last, crumpling up the paper and shoving it into his pocket, “not when ye should be getting ready to fight for yer girl.”

Will opened his mouth to yell at Jack for wadding up his drawing, but he wasn’t in the mood or a fight, so he decided against it. Besides, it wasn’t the drawing itself that he cared about, it was more the act of drawing it that mattered.

“What do you want, Jack?” Will said, feeling very weary all of the sudden. “And whatever it is, can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“Nope,” Jack said, picking up the chair from where it had fallen. “We’ll be at the Isla de Muerta tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Will tried to make his voice sound uninterested as he turned around to straighten the blankets on his bed. He was hoping that the pirate would take the hint and leave. After overhearing the conversation between Jack and Gibbs in Tortuga, Will had been feeling more than a little hurt and angered toward Jack.
Will practically jumped out of his skin when he felt Jack’s arms encircle his waist. The pirate pressed his body against the young smith’s, and Will could feel Jack’s prominent erection pressing into his backside.

“Jack,” Will said in a warning tone. “Remember your promise?”

“Oh, I’ll not be goin’ against me word,” Jack replied, lips ghosting over Will’s neck, “but there’s so much more we could be doin’ in the mean time.”

“I was afraid of that,” Will murmured, shivering as Jack lips and hot breath brushed against the pulse point on his throat.

“Besides,” Jack added, turning Will around and gesturing for him to sit on the bed, “there’s no guarantee ye’ll get the opportunity to fulfill yer promise t’ me. One or both of us may die tomorrow so I’ll be takin’ all I can from ye tonight.”

Jack leaned forward, placing a hand on either side of Will, and kissed him, pressing him back onto the bed. Will allowed himself to get lost in Jack’s kiss, trying desperately not to remember the dream he’d had the previous night.

He felt Jack break the kiss and pull him up farther on the bed so that Jack could lay on top of him, and their kissing resumed. Will found it rather hard to breathe at first with Jack’s full weight on him, but after he got used to it, he found Jack’s kisses and the warmth of his body rather relaxing.

But then Jack’s hands began to travel along his body, and Will found the relaxation gone as Jack’s hands trailed down his chest to his waist…to his hips…finally settling on Will’s arse, kneading it.

Will made a funny noise in the back of his throat and was about to protest, but Jack, foreseeing this, swooped in and enveloped him in a deep kiss, Will’s protests coming out as mere muffled groans as Jack cupped his bottom and pressed their hips together.

Jack’s hands were now sneaking around to the front of his hips, drawing lazy circles there, touching him everywhere except…

Will clapped a hand to his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to repress the distressed cry that had threatened to escape his lips as he realized that, due to Jack’s ministrations, he was getting hard. He desperately hoped that Jack wouldn’t notice, but then he heard a choking noise and opened his eyes to see Jack laughing at him. Will responded by glaring angrily at Jack and crossing his arms indignantly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jack laughed. “It’s a perfectly natural reaction.” Will continued to glare. “Oh, just relax,” the pirate told him. “Ye don’t have much choice in the matter so ye might as well be enjoyin’ it.”

Jack carefully positioned his hips above Will’s and pressed their erections together. Will closed his eyes and swallowed hard as he tried to keep from admitting to himself that Jack’s cock pressing into his felt so good.

As Jack began kissing him again, Will hesitantly reached out to wrap his arms around Jack, his hands resting on the older man’s shoulder blades. Jack deepened the kiss and let his hands rest once more on the sides of Will’s hips, not moving too much.

Will was grateful for this and tried to show it by rubbing his hands gently along his captain’s back. Jack let out a soft moan of approval and broke the kiss to murmur, “Mmm, I like it when ye touch me.” He bent his head down to graze his teeth against Will’s neck before saying, “Go lower.”

Will flushed a deep shade of crimson, but he allowed his hands to travel down Jack, reaching his waist. Jack continued to kiss his neck for a moment longer before moving his lips up to Will’s ear, hot breath tickling it as he whispered, “Lower.”

As his blush deepened, Will did as he was asked, trailing his hands down to cup Jack’s arse. Jack gave a surprised grunt and bucked against the young man beneath him. Will gasped as a wave of electricity sparked through his groin.

“Ye like that?” Will could feel Jack’s smirk against the side of his neck as the pirate continued to explore him with kisses.

Not waiting for a response (as usual), Jack began to slowly rock his hips against Will’s, groaning in pleasure as the rubbing fabric between their cocks created a wonderful friction that was slowly beginning to drive him out of his mind.

Will forgot to breathe for a moment as Jack’s hard erection rubbed against his own. He never experienced pleasure like this when he touched himself, and he’d certainly never dreamt that it could be brought on by another man.

As this thought crossed his mind, he let out a deep moan that was likely one of the sexiest sounds Jack had ever heard. He felt himself beginning to lose it. So, sighing deeply, he heaved himself off the young smith before he lost control completely and began tearing Will’s clothes off.

“Jack?” Will groaned in surprise. “Why are you stopping?”

“Because that’s enough for tonight,” Jack said gruffly, making his way toward the door. “If we went any further I’d have a hard time keepin’ me promise to ye.”

After Jack had gone out of the room and shut the door, Will let out a deep sigh. He felt more than a little irritated with Jack for leaving in the middle of everything, but most of all he was furious with himself for allowing himself to get all hot and bothered over some bloody pirate.
Blowing out the candle, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but the throbbing want between his legs refused to go away. 'Think of Elizabeth,' he told himself sternly as his hand delved into his breeches to grasp his cock. But even as he did so, he found Jack’s image fighting for dominance in his mind.

Letting out a groan of frustration, he muttered, “Oh, to hell with it!” and began pumping his cock furiously, imagining Jack’s rough hands bringing about his release.

With a strangled moan, Will came into a handkerchief, and buried his face in his pillow, a few hot tears of shame wetting his cheeks.