Bound By Blood
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male › Jack/Will
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
12,492
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male › Jack/Will
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
12,492
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A Surprise Visit
Bound By Blood
By Serena-chan
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my own strange little mind. (Applies to all chapters.)
“speech”
‘thoughts’
***dreams***
Chapter Two: A Surprise Visit
Sparks flew into the stale air of the smithy as Will pounded out the blade for what would become a sword. The metal glowed in the dim light as Will set it by to cool.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he sat down near a bucket of water, dipping his aching hand in to soothe it. The cut on his palm still hadn’t healed even though they’d been back in Port Royal for over a week. Elizabeth’s hand had healed almost immediately, but his had barely scabbed over.
He was becoming increasingly worried over this because it was greatly hindering his work. The only time it had shown any signs of healing had been three days ago:
He’d been making a sword and thinking about the dream he’d had the previous night, a dream about Jack. As he worked he began to imagine what Jack might be doing at that very moment—probably at the helm of his beloved Pearl, staring off into the never-ending horizon, the wind whipping through his hair while the hot Caribbean sun beat down on him.
As he thought about this, he worked, not really paying too much attention to the task at hand, and a sword had formed. It was quite different from any he’d made before.
The blade was the perfect length and weight; strong, too. This sword was definitely not for show. The grip was surrounded by bold, elegant swirls of metal that would protect the hand as well as serving as decoration.
Everything about the sword reminded him of Jack. It was beautiful, yet deadly; light to carry, yet undeniably strong. Already in his mind he had dubbed it “Jack’s Sword.” He’d tucked it quietly away to give to him when and if he saw the pirate again.
After it was finished, he realized that during the entire process his hand had not hurt once. He’d removed the bandages to find a thin layer of skin healing over the wound.
Will pulled his hand out of the water to examine the cut. It had split open again the very next day and grew more and more painful with each day that passed.
He was beginning to wonder if he was slowly going insane. He found the feel of sturdy land beneath his feat maddening, longing instead for the ever-changing waves of the ocean. Each night he dreamed of the sea…and each night he dreamed of Jack.
A deep blush spread across his cheeks as he recalled last night’s dream. He’d been in Jack’s cabin on the Pearl, gentle waves rocking beneath them, when Jack had suddenly started kissing him. It was slow at first, but it turned passionate rather quickly, tongues probing, a hand sneaking up his thigh…
Will angrily forced these thoughts from his mind. He felt a sudden rush of guilt as he realized that he’d grown hard.
‘Honestly!’ he thought to himself sternly, willing his erection to get back under control. ‘Jack’s my friend. What would he think if he knew I was thinking of him in this way? And poor Elizabeth! What about her, hm?’
Still, he had to wonder if there was some possible connection between his dreams, his persistent wound, and the new longings that were growing stronger with each passing day, with each dream that he had. He’d always awaken from the dreams longing for the sea so badly that it hurt (along with another rather hard longing in his trousers) and his palm throbbing, sometimes bleeding.
He glanced at it now, noting how it looked as though is had just been cut. A voice spoke suddenly from quite close behind him.
“Mine hasn’t healed either.”
Will whirled around quickly. “Jack!”
The pirate was leaning against the wall directly behind him, grinning his usual, gold-toothed smirk. He looked much the same as the last time Will had seen him, and he noted that Jack’s hand was still bandaged, too.
Without really thinking, Will rushed forward to embrace his friend. The pirate returned the hug warmly, pleasantly surprised at the usually uptight boy’s show of affection. They stayed like that for quite some time, and Will nearly wept with joy as the world seemed to right itself once more; all his aching and longing vanished instantly, and he decided that he liked the solid feel of the earth beneath his feet.
“What are you doing here?” Will asked at last, pulling away from their hug.
“I came to ask yer opinion on something…” Jack said, unwrapping the cloth bindings from around his palm. He took Will’s injured hand in his good one, and they compared their wounds side-by-side. “…but it seems ye’ve got a similar problem yerself.”
“It hasn’t healed since I’ve been back,” Will explained.
“Nor has mine.” Jack studied him closely. “I haven’t felt quite meself since this cut was made. I was wonderin’ if it had sumthin’ to do with the curse. Tell me, has Elizabeth’s—?”
“It’s healed,” Will informed him, correctly guessing the question before it was voiced.
“Of course, she was never actually cursed,” Jack said thoughtfully.
“Neither was I,” Will reminded him. “It was my father’s share of the curse, not mine.”
“True,” he mused.
“Jack,” Will started uneasily. “I’ve also been feeling rather odd lately, pretty much ever since you sailed away from Port Royal.”
“Really?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been a bit sick since then meself. Come to think of it, that’s about the time the dreams started…”
“Dreams?”
“Er…nothin’ really,” Jack replied hastily, avoiding Will’s gaze. “Just some strange dreams I’ve been havin’ at night.”
“I’ve been having strange dreams, too,” Will said breathlessly.
“Have ye, now?” Will flushed and looked away as Jack regarded him with interest. “That’s interesting…”
“Well, what are we going to do about it?” Will asked.
Jack thought for a moment. “There is one person we could consult about this, ‘cept she lives quite a ways from here. Ye’d have to leave Port Royal fer awhile.”
“I can’t just leave,” Will said incredulously. “I have the smithy to run, and then there’s Elizabeth.”
“Aye, an’ then there’s Elizabeth,” Jack sighed, annoyance and a sudden burning hot jealousy coursing through his veins. “How is the fair Miss Swann.”
“She’s well,” he replied, but Jack noticed that he didn’t quite meet his gaze. He raised a skeptical eyebrow and waited for Will to look up at him.
When he did, he sighed and said, “Actually, I’ve been avoiding her all week. Ever since those dreams started, my feelings for her have been changing. That’s what makes me so certain that there’s something…unnatural about this whole business. After all, you don’t stop loving someone practically overnight, do you?”
“I wouldn’t know, mate. Sorry,” Jack shrugged. Some small part of him—well, actually more than just a small part—felt a fierce sort of joy in the knowledge that Will wasn’t as madly in love with Elizabeth as he had been.
‘What in God’s name’s happening t’ me?’ he wondered. ‘I’m actin’ like a jealous woman.’
Aloud he said, “Well, enough of this curse talk. When things bother me, I find it’s best to just forget about it for awhile. Why don’t we have a little something to take our minds off it.”
“Rum?” Will asked, rolling his eyes, for he already knew the answer.
“Rum,” Jack confirmed with a grin, pulling a bottle out of his coat pocket.
Will sighed but allowed Jack to pour him a small amount of rum in a cup while Jack occupied himself with the whole rest of the bottle. Will sipped his rum slowly to make it last. He’d actually grown rather fond of the taste since his adventures with Jack, but he had no intention of getting drunk…tonight especially. With Jack around, Will found that it was always best if at least one of them kept a clear head.
The rest of the evening passed by rather quickly. Jack recounted stories of his adventures, each one becoming more and more unbelievable (and sometimes obscene) the farther he got into the bottle. Will listened attentively, finding Jack’s stories quite amusing, although he made a secret game of it in his head to try and sort Jack’s stories into three categories: true, half-truths, and outright lies.
Late that night, when Will excused himself to latch the door of the smithy, he came back to find Jack sound asleep on his bed. He smiled affectionately at the older man and gently nudged him over. Crawling in bed beside him, Will blew out the candle and almost immediately fell into a restful sleep.
Neither of them dreamed that night.
By Serena-chan
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my own strange little mind. (Applies to all chapters.)
“speech”
‘thoughts’
***dreams***
Chapter Two: A Surprise Visit
Sparks flew into the stale air of the smithy as Will pounded out the blade for what would become a sword. The metal glowed in the dim light as Will set it by to cool.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he sat down near a bucket of water, dipping his aching hand in to soothe it. The cut on his palm still hadn’t healed even though they’d been back in Port Royal for over a week. Elizabeth’s hand had healed almost immediately, but his had barely scabbed over.
He was becoming increasingly worried over this because it was greatly hindering his work. The only time it had shown any signs of healing had been three days ago:
He’d been making a sword and thinking about the dream he’d had the previous night, a dream about Jack. As he worked he began to imagine what Jack might be doing at that very moment—probably at the helm of his beloved Pearl, staring off into the never-ending horizon, the wind whipping through his hair while the hot Caribbean sun beat down on him.
As he thought about this, he worked, not really paying too much attention to the task at hand, and a sword had formed. It was quite different from any he’d made before.
The blade was the perfect length and weight; strong, too. This sword was definitely not for show. The grip was surrounded by bold, elegant swirls of metal that would protect the hand as well as serving as decoration.
Everything about the sword reminded him of Jack. It was beautiful, yet deadly; light to carry, yet undeniably strong. Already in his mind he had dubbed it “Jack’s Sword.” He’d tucked it quietly away to give to him when and if he saw the pirate again.
After it was finished, he realized that during the entire process his hand had not hurt once. He’d removed the bandages to find a thin layer of skin healing over the wound.
Will pulled his hand out of the water to examine the cut. It had split open again the very next day and grew more and more painful with each day that passed.
He was beginning to wonder if he was slowly going insane. He found the feel of sturdy land beneath his feat maddening, longing instead for the ever-changing waves of the ocean. Each night he dreamed of the sea…and each night he dreamed of Jack.
A deep blush spread across his cheeks as he recalled last night’s dream. He’d been in Jack’s cabin on the Pearl, gentle waves rocking beneath them, when Jack had suddenly started kissing him. It was slow at first, but it turned passionate rather quickly, tongues probing, a hand sneaking up his thigh…
Will angrily forced these thoughts from his mind. He felt a sudden rush of guilt as he realized that he’d grown hard.
‘Honestly!’ he thought to himself sternly, willing his erection to get back under control. ‘Jack’s my friend. What would he think if he knew I was thinking of him in this way? And poor Elizabeth! What about her, hm?’
Still, he had to wonder if there was some possible connection between his dreams, his persistent wound, and the new longings that were growing stronger with each passing day, with each dream that he had. He’d always awaken from the dreams longing for the sea so badly that it hurt (along with another rather hard longing in his trousers) and his palm throbbing, sometimes bleeding.
He glanced at it now, noting how it looked as though is had just been cut. A voice spoke suddenly from quite close behind him.
“Mine hasn’t healed either.”
Will whirled around quickly. “Jack!”
The pirate was leaning against the wall directly behind him, grinning his usual, gold-toothed smirk. He looked much the same as the last time Will had seen him, and he noted that Jack’s hand was still bandaged, too.
Without really thinking, Will rushed forward to embrace his friend. The pirate returned the hug warmly, pleasantly surprised at the usually uptight boy’s show of affection. They stayed like that for quite some time, and Will nearly wept with joy as the world seemed to right itself once more; all his aching and longing vanished instantly, and he decided that he liked the solid feel of the earth beneath his feet.
“What are you doing here?” Will asked at last, pulling away from their hug.
“I came to ask yer opinion on something…” Jack said, unwrapping the cloth bindings from around his palm. He took Will’s injured hand in his good one, and they compared their wounds side-by-side. “…but it seems ye’ve got a similar problem yerself.”
“It hasn’t healed since I’ve been back,” Will explained.
“Nor has mine.” Jack studied him closely. “I haven’t felt quite meself since this cut was made. I was wonderin’ if it had sumthin’ to do with the curse. Tell me, has Elizabeth’s—?”
“It’s healed,” Will informed him, correctly guessing the question before it was voiced.
“Of course, she was never actually cursed,” Jack said thoughtfully.
“Neither was I,” Will reminded him. “It was my father’s share of the curse, not mine.”
“True,” he mused.
“Jack,” Will started uneasily. “I’ve also been feeling rather odd lately, pretty much ever since you sailed away from Port Royal.”
“Really?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been a bit sick since then meself. Come to think of it, that’s about the time the dreams started…”
“Dreams?”
“Er…nothin’ really,” Jack replied hastily, avoiding Will’s gaze. “Just some strange dreams I’ve been havin’ at night.”
“I’ve been having strange dreams, too,” Will said breathlessly.
“Have ye, now?” Will flushed and looked away as Jack regarded him with interest. “That’s interesting…”
“Well, what are we going to do about it?” Will asked.
Jack thought for a moment. “There is one person we could consult about this, ‘cept she lives quite a ways from here. Ye’d have to leave Port Royal fer awhile.”
“I can’t just leave,” Will said incredulously. “I have the smithy to run, and then there’s Elizabeth.”
“Aye, an’ then there’s Elizabeth,” Jack sighed, annoyance and a sudden burning hot jealousy coursing through his veins. “How is the fair Miss Swann.”
“She’s well,” he replied, but Jack noticed that he didn’t quite meet his gaze. He raised a skeptical eyebrow and waited for Will to look up at him.
When he did, he sighed and said, “Actually, I’ve been avoiding her all week. Ever since those dreams started, my feelings for her have been changing. That’s what makes me so certain that there’s something…unnatural about this whole business. After all, you don’t stop loving someone practically overnight, do you?”
“I wouldn’t know, mate. Sorry,” Jack shrugged. Some small part of him—well, actually more than just a small part—felt a fierce sort of joy in the knowledge that Will wasn’t as madly in love with Elizabeth as he had been.
‘What in God’s name’s happening t’ me?’ he wondered. ‘I’m actin’ like a jealous woman.’
Aloud he said, “Well, enough of this curse talk. When things bother me, I find it’s best to just forget about it for awhile. Why don’t we have a little something to take our minds off it.”
“Rum?” Will asked, rolling his eyes, for he already knew the answer.
“Rum,” Jack confirmed with a grin, pulling a bottle out of his coat pocket.
Will sighed but allowed Jack to pour him a small amount of rum in a cup while Jack occupied himself with the whole rest of the bottle. Will sipped his rum slowly to make it last. He’d actually grown rather fond of the taste since his adventures with Jack, but he had no intention of getting drunk…tonight especially. With Jack around, Will found that it was always best if at least one of them kept a clear head.
The rest of the evening passed by rather quickly. Jack recounted stories of his adventures, each one becoming more and more unbelievable (and sometimes obscene) the farther he got into the bottle. Will listened attentively, finding Jack’s stories quite amusing, although he made a secret game of it in his head to try and sort Jack’s stories into three categories: true, half-truths, and outright lies.
Late that night, when Will excused himself to latch the door of the smithy, he came back to find Jack sound asleep on his bed. He smiled affectionately at the older man and gently nudged him over. Crawling in bed beside him, Will blew out the candle and almost immediately fell into a restful sleep.
Neither of them dreamed that night.