Touch
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,663
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,663
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
marooned
Title: Touch
Author: Ladyjanelly
E-mail:
Feedback: gives me a reason to type and post instead of just playing with pretty images in my head.
Type:FPS
Chapter: 4/?
Characters: Jack/Will
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Feel free, just let me know where.
Warnings: More of a recovery fic than hurt/comfort, but there are still mentions of child abuse (nothing graphic) and it is Slash.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Will was watching the sea again, and Jack lay all by his onesies between the sticky sheets in their cold bed. He felt marooned, abandoned. How a man could be so alone on a ship full of sailors and pirates, not even Captain Jack Sparrow could make sense of.
There was a mystery here, and Jack did not like mysteries, unless they were of his making. He savvied what had happened to Will, sometime before they met. Maybe not the details, and maybe not the name of the man who had done it, but he understood the pain and shame that had been in that boy's eyes.
What he didn’t know was what was going on in that still-not-piratey head now.
You never should have touched him, he couldn’t tell if it was Pearl whispering or his own guilty conscience. Not really a safe port with ol' Jack always around to take advantage, now is it? No, not Pearl, definitely his own guilt.
He stared up at the swaying lantern that hung from the ceiling. He was frowning, and while he might like to pretend to frown, the real thing was a bit less fun.
I have nowhere else to go... Will's words echoed back to him. I have nowhere else to go, Jack...
So the boy had stayed for the necessity of it, because there was nowhere else.
He had become a pirate, and a damn good one, not because it was in his blood, but because something chased him from Port Royal.
He had let Jack heal him because no one else could.
He had stolen a place in Jack's bed and in his body because there was no one else that he thought would have him.
Jack felt a stab of jealousy for Lizabeth. The boy might not have loved her any more than he loved Jack, but at least she found out without losing two years of her live and all of her heart to him.
It hurt like the inside of his breast-bone was being branded with the boy's name. He rose from the bed and went in search for a bottle of rum, tripping on a pile of loot on the floor, kicking it in his impatience. The spicy sweet bite helped. The hot iron inside of his ribs faded from red to black. He began to pace as he drank.
He wanted, in the depths of his weasely black heart, to hate the boy. He wanted to go out on the deck and....do...do...well, something bloody awful. The bottle of rum came up empty, and he dug another one out of his coat pocket.
He drank and drank, waiting for Will to come back to bed (mine, not ours, he thought) or for himself to gather the courage to go confront the boy.
As it happened to be, courage arrived first. Nigh-pickled, he staggered out onto the deck, ready to fight or fuck or maybe fall on his knees and beg the boy to love him.
Will's back was to him, elbows leaning against the rail as he watched the moonlight on the water. He turned, and for a heartbeat there was peace in the depths of those dark eyes, quickly covered by a flicker of uncertainty. A frown appeared between his eyebrows.
"Jack?"
He couldn’t keep him. He couldn’t own him. Beyond all else, he couldn’t look at him right now, so he took up a position at the rail Will had abandoned.
"I'll put you off at whatever port suits yer fancy," Jack began. His treacherous mouth was failing him, not saying things the way he wanted them to sound. "I'll buy ye whatever you need. Forge, shop, ship. Smart boy like you, it shouldn’t be too hard t' make a go of it."
Will was silent behind him. Pearl whispered her support through his thoughts.
"Jack..." The boy's voice sounded strangled, not grateful, and Jack gripped the ship's rail until it felt like the tips of his fingers would be bruised. He couldn’t look. He couldn’t watch this.
"Please don’t send me away. I can change. I can ask for less. I can give more. Jack, please..."
He hated to hear the boy in pain, but it would be better this way. Let 'im go free. Let 'im find somebody that would make him happier than ol' Jack could. Let 'im choose someone instead of settling for the first convenient dirty old pirate.
"Am I too old?" Will's whisper recaptured his attention, and he briefly considered that perhaps this would have been better done with a tad less rum.
"Have I grown too bold in your bed? I thought that was what you wanted, Jack." Anger was growing in his voice, like low-burning embers being slowly fanned to flame. His voice was tight, controlled. He would not shout or cry. The ship was too small for that; there was crew everywhere, even at this time of night. He wouldn’t shame Jack or himself in that way.
"It was what I wanted. Is. What I wanted." I wanted you to be free of fear, free to love me...but words like that held a danger of their own, and he would not speak them lightly.
"You called me a diamond once, Jack. Do you remember? When did I turn to cut glass?"
"Never." The word was rough in his throat. "You'll always be a diamond, boy."
"Then why are you trying to put me off of your ship like something worthless?"
Jack's control snapped and he spun away from the rail, moving towards Will before he realized it. His calloused hands slammed the boy's chest, throwing him back a few steps, but not off of his feet. Hurt and confusion showed on those so-fine features, but he didn’t fight back. The wall of the forecastle came up behind Will, and Jack shoved him one last time, just hard enough to press him against it.
"Why?" the younger man whispered, and it was a request, a challenge, a demand.
Jack felt like his eyes were too hot, his ribs too tight. His lips pulled into a sneer. It hurt too much, and all he had to shield himself with was his anger. "Because I am Captain Jack Sparrow, and I cannot abide having half of a thing. I want it all, and if I can't take it, I don’t want to be reminded that it even exists. Savvy?"
Will sighed. "Jack, you are drunk and making no sense."
Jack's fingers clenched into fists, gripping the linen shirt on either side of William's neck. He heard a strange noise, and then realized it was his teeth grinding together.
"I am saying that I love ye, boy, but I will not keep a man that doesn’t love me back!" he shoved himself away from the younger man, fearful that he would strike him if he looked into those dark eyes one moment longer.
"Jack..." relief and even humor colored the boy's voice, and Jack turned in stunned shock, trying to understand if he was being made fun of. Will's broad hand cupped his cheek, calloused thumb running over his lips. He knew he should pull away, but it felt too good, and it was too unexpected to react to.
"Jack, I thought this...all of this time, that it was just sex to you. I thought you would tire of me. I tried to leave you alone some time so you wouldn’t see too much of me. I tried to give you time in Tortuga to visit with the ladies."
"What're you sayin', lad?" He was wary still. He had known too much pain, too much betrayal to trust easily.
Will's other hand came to rest on his hip, and he knew he was lost. No matter what the boy said, he was lost.
"I am saying that I love you, Jack. I'm saying that I would rather die than leave. I'm saying that there is nothing I wouldn’t do to be able to stay with you."
Slow, as if he was afraid Jack would pull away, Will leaned in. The first kiss was the barest brush of lips against lips. The second was soft and teasing; Will's tongue reaching out to touch his, but it would not pass his teeth. The third kiss was a rough pillaging of his mouth that left him dizzy and gasping for breath.
"Come to bed, Jack." Will whispered, and all Jack could do was nod.
Will's hands were strong, gentle yet firm against his body, his face. He used his hands to show jack that he meant what he had said. He told him again and again the night through, with his eyes, his lips.
By morning, Will's love was a thing beyond doubt, beyond question. It was as real to Jack as the planks of the Pearl beneath his feet or the wind in her sails.
Author: Ladyjanelly
E-mail:
Feedback: gives me a reason to type and post instead of just playing with pretty images in my head.
Type:FPS
Chapter: 4/?
Characters: Jack/Will
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Feel free, just let me know where.
Warnings: More of a recovery fic than hurt/comfort, but there are still mentions of child abuse (nothing graphic) and it is Slash.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Will was watching the sea again, and Jack lay all by his onesies between the sticky sheets in their cold bed. He felt marooned, abandoned. How a man could be so alone on a ship full of sailors and pirates, not even Captain Jack Sparrow could make sense of.
There was a mystery here, and Jack did not like mysteries, unless they were of his making. He savvied what had happened to Will, sometime before they met. Maybe not the details, and maybe not the name of the man who had done it, but he understood the pain and shame that had been in that boy's eyes.
What he didn’t know was what was going on in that still-not-piratey head now.
You never should have touched him, he couldn’t tell if it was Pearl whispering or his own guilty conscience. Not really a safe port with ol' Jack always around to take advantage, now is it? No, not Pearl, definitely his own guilt.
He stared up at the swaying lantern that hung from the ceiling. He was frowning, and while he might like to pretend to frown, the real thing was a bit less fun.
I have nowhere else to go... Will's words echoed back to him. I have nowhere else to go, Jack...
So the boy had stayed for the necessity of it, because there was nowhere else.
He had become a pirate, and a damn good one, not because it was in his blood, but because something chased him from Port Royal.
He had let Jack heal him because no one else could.
He had stolen a place in Jack's bed and in his body because there was no one else that he thought would have him.
Jack felt a stab of jealousy for Lizabeth. The boy might not have loved her any more than he loved Jack, but at least she found out without losing two years of her live and all of her heart to him.
It hurt like the inside of his breast-bone was being branded with the boy's name. He rose from the bed and went in search for a bottle of rum, tripping on a pile of loot on the floor, kicking it in his impatience. The spicy sweet bite helped. The hot iron inside of his ribs faded from red to black. He began to pace as he drank.
He wanted, in the depths of his weasely black heart, to hate the boy. He wanted to go out on the deck and....do...do...well, something bloody awful. The bottle of rum came up empty, and he dug another one out of his coat pocket.
He drank and drank, waiting for Will to come back to bed (mine, not ours, he thought) or for himself to gather the courage to go confront the boy.
As it happened to be, courage arrived first. Nigh-pickled, he staggered out onto the deck, ready to fight or fuck or maybe fall on his knees and beg the boy to love him.
Will's back was to him, elbows leaning against the rail as he watched the moonlight on the water. He turned, and for a heartbeat there was peace in the depths of those dark eyes, quickly covered by a flicker of uncertainty. A frown appeared between his eyebrows.
"Jack?"
He couldn’t keep him. He couldn’t own him. Beyond all else, he couldn’t look at him right now, so he took up a position at the rail Will had abandoned.
"I'll put you off at whatever port suits yer fancy," Jack began. His treacherous mouth was failing him, not saying things the way he wanted them to sound. "I'll buy ye whatever you need. Forge, shop, ship. Smart boy like you, it shouldn’t be too hard t' make a go of it."
Will was silent behind him. Pearl whispered her support through his thoughts.
"Jack..." The boy's voice sounded strangled, not grateful, and Jack gripped the ship's rail until it felt like the tips of his fingers would be bruised. He couldn’t look. He couldn’t watch this.
"Please don’t send me away. I can change. I can ask for less. I can give more. Jack, please..."
He hated to hear the boy in pain, but it would be better this way. Let 'im go free. Let 'im find somebody that would make him happier than ol' Jack could. Let 'im choose someone instead of settling for the first convenient dirty old pirate.
"Am I too old?" Will's whisper recaptured his attention, and he briefly considered that perhaps this would have been better done with a tad less rum.
"Have I grown too bold in your bed? I thought that was what you wanted, Jack." Anger was growing in his voice, like low-burning embers being slowly fanned to flame. His voice was tight, controlled. He would not shout or cry. The ship was too small for that; there was crew everywhere, even at this time of night. He wouldn’t shame Jack or himself in that way.
"It was what I wanted. Is. What I wanted." I wanted you to be free of fear, free to love me...but words like that held a danger of their own, and he would not speak them lightly.
"You called me a diamond once, Jack. Do you remember? When did I turn to cut glass?"
"Never." The word was rough in his throat. "You'll always be a diamond, boy."
"Then why are you trying to put me off of your ship like something worthless?"
Jack's control snapped and he spun away from the rail, moving towards Will before he realized it. His calloused hands slammed the boy's chest, throwing him back a few steps, but not off of his feet. Hurt and confusion showed on those so-fine features, but he didn’t fight back. The wall of the forecastle came up behind Will, and Jack shoved him one last time, just hard enough to press him against it.
"Why?" the younger man whispered, and it was a request, a challenge, a demand.
Jack felt like his eyes were too hot, his ribs too tight. His lips pulled into a sneer. It hurt too much, and all he had to shield himself with was his anger. "Because I am Captain Jack Sparrow, and I cannot abide having half of a thing. I want it all, and if I can't take it, I don’t want to be reminded that it even exists. Savvy?"
Will sighed. "Jack, you are drunk and making no sense."
Jack's fingers clenched into fists, gripping the linen shirt on either side of William's neck. He heard a strange noise, and then realized it was his teeth grinding together.
"I am saying that I love ye, boy, but I will not keep a man that doesn’t love me back!" he shoved himself away from the younger man, fearful that he would strike him if he looked into those dark eyes one moment longer.
"Jack..." relief and even humor colored the boy's voice, and Jack turned in stunned shock, trying to understand if he was being made fun of. Will's broad hand cupped his cheek, calloused thumb running over his lips. He knew he should pull away, but it felt too good, and it was too unexpected to react to.
"Jack, I thought this...all of this time, that it was just sex to you. I thought you would tire of me. I tried to leave you alone some time so you wouldn’t see too much of me. I tried to give you time in Tortuga to visit with the ladies."
"What're you sayin', lad?" He was wary still. He had known too much pain, too much betrayal to trust easily.
Will's other hand came to rest on his hip, and he knew he was lost. No matter what the boy said, he was lost.
"I am saying that I love you, Jack. I'm saying that I would rather die than leave. I'm saying that there is nothing I wouldn’t do to be able to stay with you."
Slow, as if he was afraid Jack would pull away, Will leaned in. The first kiss was the barest brush of lips against lips. The second was soft and teasing; Will's tongue reaching out to touch his, but it would not pass his teeth. The third kiss was a rough pillaging of his mouth that left him dizzy and gasping for breath.
"Come to bed, Jack." Will whispered, and all Jack could do was nod.
Will's hands were strong, gentle yet firm against his body, his face. He used his hands to show jack that he meant what he had said. He told him again and again the night through, with his eyes, his lips.
By morning, Will's love was a thing beyond doubt, beyond question. It was as real to Jack as the planks of the Pearl beneath his feet or the wind in her sails.