Repression, Obsession & Past Life Regression

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Taxes Part 3 - Repression, Obsession, and Past Life Regression
Part 5 of 8: Gone
Disclaimers, yadda yadda, in Part 0. Added warning here on out for bad language.
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Not much later, both sat in a seaside hotel bar, enjoying afternoon cocktails. Will was letting himself get just a bit tipsy, Jack observed happily. He recalled Will getting truly drunk to be rare, the boy always meaning to be Jack's own sober complement, and anyway for some reason those Turner wits appeared to work better dry, something Jack had never quite been able to figure. Still, with just a little lubrication, it was easier to talk young William into Jack's idea of fun.

Thus, while appearing merely two men in love, appreciating large seafront bay windows and a basket of fried shellfish, they cased the hotel's complement of cigarette boats meant for showing the tourists some speed. Then, arm in arm, they strolled along the docks, eventually disappearing from view. No one connected them to the boat that slipped its lines and began to drift ever so slowly away. No one noticed that boat much at all, in fact, 'till its motor gunned and it took off like a rocket.

Nobody pursued it, either. They were hotel security, not cops, and not up for any sort of chase. Anyway, that was what the homing device was for.

* * *

Jack let go a wild whoop as he sped across the water. Incredible...this was incredible, amazing...such speed and it was even better with the lad clinging to him for dear life.

"Jack! Are you sure you know how to steer this thing!?"

"Well, not exactly.

"So it's Byrd, then?"

"Well, not exactly..."

"What!?"

"Just havin' some fun with ye. It's not at all hard to figure. Now, I know a little place..." Drawn from Byrd's memories of surfing all up and down this coast, of course, though said worthy was snoozing again in the back of Jack's mind. A cove and a cave, small, barely room for the boat and to stand. They cruised in far too quickly and stopped just short of colliding with a jagged rock.

Jack stood and felt everything reel just perfectly. He corrected himself right into Will, who was trying to stand as well, and brought him to land on his knees. Blood sang in his ears. His heart throbbed in sympathy with other places dear to it.

He saw his own intent, serious gaze in the beautiful boy's eyes and smiled, knowing the grin for the predator's leer it was. "Jack, is everything all...mmMmph!" A handful of breaths taken together and those eyes slid out of focus. "...suppose that's a yes..." Will murmured, then actually squeaked as Jack tackled him and bore him down.

Tongue met tongue, slid, pulled, sucked in, tasted sea salt drawn from spray-stung lips. He took the time to catch a lip in his teeth and pause, near motionless, his eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. Wait for it...wait for it...Will's eyes filled with exasperation and need in equal measure. Perfect. Now, soon, yes...a quick violent motion and the younger man was on top and unzipping his jeans for him. Lovely. He assisted, shimmying out of the overshirt, beginning to pull the black t-shirt off. Will caught his wrists.

"Leave it on."

Jack smiled, shrugged, and relaxed against the hull. Who was he to question, save the lad's captain, but just so..."ship is yours, mate," he murmured.

"Mm? Ah..." and Will took the cue, undoing and removing loose khaki pants. The grey shirt stayed on, too. Will's warmth on his front, the cold boat against his behind...the sensation made him squirm and his hips twitched just a bit. Jack shivered, and it seemed that Will liked that a great deal, as he claimed Jack's mouth in another searching kiss.

"Do that again," the lad whispered in his ear, and then blew softly. Jack shuddered obligingly, giving his whole body to the tremor. In his mind, Byrd murmured sleepily //...yes, oh...// and subsided. Then Will was at his neck. Teeth, tongue, suction on skin and Jack was being boarded, knees up and wide, one hand below and the other between. Will had found something in a pocket somewhere, applied it with one finger, then two, then three, spreading, crooking, searching 'till Jack could only groan loud and mumble low in a language he hardly recognized, but thought might be French.

The boat rocked and Jack rocked and shuddered again under his Will's weight and dexterity. The boy was sweating now, realized it, and the grey shirt came off. Just a thin layer of cloth between their chests, and between their hips...nothing. Fingers pulled away, he made a moaning animal sound then pressed up and back against the length that of a sudden filled him, impaling himself with his fiercest smile. He rocked harder, intent on driving his William to utter mad.
.

Oh, and it was working - Will's eyes unfocused, his hips running away with him and down into Jack - hot pressure against cold metal...and then Will came back to himself with a wild grin echoing Jack's own, and his hips slowed...rolled...*twisted...* oh, Jack had forgotten that the boy could *do* that, and then he did it again and again and...oh, hell, who was supposed to be the madman here anyway...all was sensation and abandon and he was coming, coming hot and hard against skin and a thin black shirt, moaning at that feeling and at the moist heat that filled him an instant later.

A panting sigh, and Jack's hands tangled in chestnut curls as the men took a long, languid taste of one another. With slight concern, Jack noticed a tear in Will's eye - this phenomenon was rare, a sign of the world rushing back to the lad after mindless pleasure, and was seen only when William had a great deal on his mind. Same issue as earlier, Jack assumed, and pretended he'd not seen as tas the truth would out in time. Will withdrew, slow bittersweet loss, and Jack stripped out of the temporarily ruined tee that they might towel off. It was as he began to lever himself up that he saw the blinking red light.

"Ah, Will, I daresay me memories of this modern world are clearer in me mind than the Caribbean of old, but would y' mind confirming what that is, love?"

Will squinted. "Homing device." He glanced involuntarily at the cave mouth. "They LoJacked the boat!"

Jack sighed. "Well, seems only fair. Jack hijacks, they LoJack." He took an instant to rinse the black tee in saltwater and twist it out, and then skinned back into the jeans and the white shirt, half-open over his tanned chest and chains. Will was already dressed and waiting for him on the rocks when he hopped out of the boat, checking his jeans pockets for all his ill-gotten gains.

Satisfied, he tipped an imaginary hat to the fast little lass. "Milady, I'm sorry, but if ye haven't the decency to stay stolen, it'll never work between us. Farewell." Crouching, they emerged from the cave and Jack led them up the beach access trail to the highway. A convertible was parked nearby, top down, the owners off somewhere surfing, fishing, or the like, and a good thing too. When the police came by half a minute later, they did not look too closely at the couple making out in the car save to note with mild interest that they were both men. They were after a stolen boat, and these two obviously had another conveyance.

As it turned out, the actual conveyance was a cab from the local convenience store back to Jack's bike. They slid onto the black and chrome, and Will turned a questioning look upon him.

"Why," Jack replied, "wenching, of course!"

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A stop at an ATM later, change made by a very helpful bartender, they were seated at a table near a glossy black runway. Will had a mug of some dark brew, and Jack was drinking something called a Zombie. Appropriately named, he thought, and something the late unlamented Barbossa would appreciate, as after half of it Jack could not feel his fingertips.

The strumpet who spent the most time about, or atop, their persons was also glossy and black, with tea-colored braids brushing the small of her back. Will bought her a drink - not the overpriced champagne that lurked at every other table, but a mug of beer, which she downed with a grateful grin.

"I hate champagne," the stripper confided, as Jack stuffed a five in her waistband, waist being quite relative with regards to the bikini that was more of a suggestion than an article of clothing. She rewarded him with a gyration and a teasing pull at her bottoms that revealed a thong hiding beneath.

"More clothes, lass? Where d'you hide 'em all?"

"You wanna find out, it's all about the tipping, gorgeous." In the background, AC/DC blared, "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap." "Where you from, anyway? No, lemme guess - I'm good with accents."

"Ye'll not place this one, love," Jack replied, grinning as a man at the next table slipped a twenty in the straps of her high heels, and she made a shooing motion with her hand, not turning to look.

"Wait, handsome, almost got it..." She stretched, did a back-bend that ended up with her shoe on Will's shoulder. Jack heard him gulp and his smile widened. "Got it! Bahamas, right?"

Jack stared. "That's...actually very close."

"Told ye, love," she mimicked, near-perfectly. Her leg did an improbable swing over both their heads and back behind her, tipping her forward to expose her bosom. Jack placed a twenty in that heaven, and the bikini bottoms came off.

Jack felt the tenseness in Will's thigh, right up against his. They *were* very near Will's apartment at this point....Time to leave this wonderful establishment, but definitely a place to mark. The wench saw them getting up and sighed theatrically.

"Pity I'm here another three hours. You got a phone number, beautiful?"

Jack wrapped a twenty about another of Byrd's business cards and hid it well enough that he had to wait for the bouncer to look away. "Call me, m'dear."

The stripper chuckled and gave light kisses both to Jack and a blushing, *very* tense Will. "You got it, baby. And you ask for me any time. I'm Honey."

"I do wonder if you're as sweet as your name."

"Don't you know by now, cutie?"

"Oh, not yet," he said, licking his lips and watching, satisfied, as her eyes grew smoky. He tipped his imaginary hat once more. "'Till we meet again."

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//Oh, wow,// Honey thought, as she watched the couple leave. //Now that was rare as anything, and damn were they amazing. I'm gonna have to tell my sisters all about this one.//

She might even be able to top Annie Mae's stories about her hot gay boss, for once.

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Up the elevator to Will's apartment they shared only light touches and heated breath, Jack prolonging the boy's agony, alas, but it would be worth it. Jack fingered the buttons on his shirt, but did not undo them, all for Will's benefit. Will looked away, fixedly, as he opened the door. Iron control, but Jack had no lack of confidence in himself for breaking it. He lifted a lighter from a tray and lit one candle only, near the black leather couch. Then he turned to his Will...

Who stretched out an arm and placed it flat against his chest. "Jack, no."

"No? Really, now? You seem very interested..." Jack stepped closer and Will's breath hitched, his arm bowed so slightly...then firmed again and Jack stopped.

"I am. But we cannot."

"Since *when!?*"

Will put his arm down. "Tell me, Jack, what are your plans for tomorrow?"

"Larceny and debauchery, of course. Pirate, as you recall."

"And the next day?"

"More of the same, I suppose - hadn't really thought that far ahead. Though there's something about the day after that nags at me a bit."

"Aye." Will's face had that serious set that never meant anything good. Occasionally, in fact, it meant getting clocked with an oar.

"And?"

"The day after, Will and Jack must be at work."

"I'd have come to that in a bit."

"Perhaps." Will turned, paced away, and back again. "Jack, this is dangerous. We must call them back, and now."

"Ah, me Will, what's the harm in one more day, in waking in each others' arms again..."

"Jack, there is too much temptation in this."

"Now, that was always your problem - the best part of temptation's in the yielding to it..." Jack reached out to brush Will's cheek with his fingertips. Will's eyes closed and he shivered, sighed. He caught Jack's hand against his face and ran his fingers across it. Then he let it go.

"You said it yourself, in that cave. Their memories are clearer than our own. It would be easy...so easy to live as these men, only changing small bits to suit - jobs, friends, location..."

"I would not..." And yet, was he in fact certain? He was Captain Jack Sparrow, and there was very little that he would not do, to get what he wanted. Though it truly seemed he only wanted one day more...just the weekend, when no one would miss...

"We must give these borrowed bodies back before we come to like this too well," Will said softly. "This has to end, Jack, at least for now. We're enjoying it too much, and they...I don't know that they're even truly aware. They seem so much farther away than we were."

"And is it wrong, then, to wish for just one more day to enjoy the feel of you on min, in, the taste of you on my lips, my own lips?"

"There. That is what's wrong. We're losing ourselves in sensation, we have been all this day."

"Pirates, lad, pirates. We're all about sensation, and taking what we can, when we can get it - don't ye *remember?*"

"But to go on about feeling, touching and tasting...do you know who you sound like, Jack?"

No...oh, no...

"They've been drowsing, half-asleep, and I must wonder, are we keeping them thus? We can't commandeer their lives, Jack. We feel alive, seem to be men, but we are uncanny things."

Everything was shifting, turning on its axis. The horror rose in him and he longed for his ocean...And Jack Byrd was oh, so quiet and peaceful. If he were trapped, would he know it, this other half of his who had given him such a gift...

"Would you become a ghoul, lusting after what belongs to the living by right?" Will continued, and turned, picked something up, tossed it at him. Jack caught it without thinking, then stopped and stared.

It was an apple, of course.

A terrible sadness rose above his head and he was drowning...could it be true? Could he no longer trust himself? And if he could no longer trust himself, then whom could he trust?

The answer was right in front of him, and always had been.

Will.

//...farewell...//

//...JACK! No, don't go...//

Jack Byrd came fully aware with a long, wheezing gasp. He grabbed the man in front of him by the collar.

"He's gone! Goddamn it, Turner, what did you do?! I can't feel him anymore! What the hell did you do?!"

Regret darkened the other man's eyes. "What I had to..." and then his face changed, and a stricken Will Smith looked out of it. "Oh, God, Jack, I'm so sorry...I should have shut him up...I should have stopped him but I couldn't... Oh, God..."

Jack let go and sank to the black couch, hands covering his face. "I can't feel him. I can't feel him at all. He's gone."

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