Barbossa's Boys 2

TITLE Barbossa's Boys
AUTHOR Clonesofconfusion
CO-AUTHOR Yakkorat
BETA The wonderful Chrysanthemum
SLASH FIC!!

A/N Kudos to Yakkorat and Chrysanthemum for making this chapter so outstanding. It really wouldn't have been any good without their care and support and , of course, their skills. You girls rock!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Barbossa's Boys
Chapter 7
10/05

The door burst open and Barbossa strode in, that blasted monkey on his shoulder and a stranger trailing in his wake. With feigned nonchalance, Jack turned to face this additional threat, shifting ever so slightly in the bed as he did to hide a little
more of Will's body. The monkey screeched and made for his perch.

The new arrival was tall and gaunt, so thin that his bones seemed to stick out, stretching the pockmarked skin above them. Half of his sallow face was covered by lank black hair, and black eyes glittered mercilessly from underneath the oily strands. They seemed to shine in their bulging sockets as they fixed briefly on Will. Jack felt his lover tense behind him and casually sat up on his elbow, blocking even more of Will from view. The other man didn't seem to notice; after a cursory glance he turned to Barbossa, evidently awaiting instructions. It almost seemed absurd that anyone with so little substance could contain such vigor, but Barbossa's guest all but vibrated with manic energy. In one skeletal hand he carried a heavy
black bag that Jack eyed warily. Though he knew nothing of this man or his ominous sack, something about him made Jack's hackles rise instantly. He could only be trouble; why else would that Spanish bastard have brought him?

As if sensing his unease, Barbossa grinned. "This be Santos," he said, dropping into a chair and kicking his booted heels up onto the table. "Picked him up in Tortuga." When his master was settled, the monkey dropped from his perch onto the pirate's shoulder, twisting an Aztec coin in his tiny paws and chittering madly. Absently, Barbossa gave his pet an
affectionate pat, then he held out his hand and waited. The monkey placed the coin dutifully in Barbossa's palm, and the pirate captain chuckled. "Thank ye, Jack," Barbossa leered, never taking his eyes from Jack, who was scowling right back at him. One day, Jack promised himself bitterly, he would snap that creature's neck.

Slowly, smirking wickedly, Barbossa brought his blade to the coin, shaving a few thin curls from its edge and dropping the slivers into a tiny pile on the table. "Figured yer correction could wait a bit, Jack," he said as he continued at his work. "When I saw Santos up on deck, I remembered I had plans fer us today. Besides, anticipation's half the fun, inn't it?"

Jack tensed. Knowing the strategy behind Barbossa's words didn't make them any less effective. Unseen, Will's fingers traced a soothing pattern over his lower back, quietly reminding him that whatever ordeal awaited, he would not face it alone. It was amazing that with all Jack had done to protect Will since this cursed thing began, the one thing that seemed to
have given the boy purpose, to have given him strength, was his need to protect Jack. Jack pressed back appreciatively against the blacksmith's hand and glared at Barbossa.

"They say ye always imagine things worse than they are. But I can be surprisingly creative, can't I, Jack?"

Seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room, Santos stepped up impatiently beside Barbossa and dropped his bag on the table with a thud. Ignoring them all, he opened the burlap sack and began arranging its contents on the table. One by one he laid instruments in evenly spaced rows, instruments that Jack more than recognized. Jack felt himself blanch.

Barbossa laughed. "So ye recognize them things, eh, Jack? I thought about piercin' yer ears - yers and the whelp's - but piercin's heal. They grow over in time. So I thought about it some more, and I think I came up with an inspired idea."

Jack swallowed hard. "A tattoo."

"Dead right, Jack. Somethin' to mark ye as mine." The corner of his mouth turned up into a vile grin. "A lil somethin' so as ye don't ferget yer place. In my bed and at my feet." He sneered at the two men. Will moved minutely closer to Jack, his fingers still splayed over the pirate's skin, and Jack was suddenly aware of just how thin the sheet that covered them really was. He wanted to reach back and shield Will. He couldn't. "Jack, yer first." He patted the table.

"Oh, really, I couldn't," Jack said, letting his eyes enlarge slightly. "I have a compelling fear of needles, you see."

Barbossa snorted in disbelief, his eyes dropping to the black pearl on Jack's chest, then the sparrow in flight on his forearm "Very funny, Jack." Without warning, the pirate captain grabbed a handful of Jack's hair, yanked him to his feet, and then shoved him toward the table. Jack's feet skittered across the floor, and when he turned back Barbossa had his
hungry glare fixed on Will. "Now for you."

Will's lip curled even as he shrank in on himself.

Barbossa snapped his fingers at the youth. "Up, boy."

Slowly, staring fiercely at his captor, Will slid from the bed, wincing as his abused muscles stretched and pulled.

Barbossa tutted. "Yer a mess. But I suppose that's my fault. Don't you worry. I'll fix ye up nice and proper." He leered at Will, drinking in the sight of his naked body, and Jack's stomach clenched. He was almost relieved when Barbossa turned his attention back to him. "On the table, Jack," he said and stalked over.

Glancing briefly at Santos, Jack lifted himself onto the table, managing not to grimace when Barbossa put a proprietary hand on his thigh.

Santos looked a question to his captain and grinned at his nod. Placing a hand on Jack's chest, he shoved him flat. "Where do ye wan' it, Cap'n?" He asked in a thin nasally voice.

Barbossa stepped around Jack's feet. "There." He poked low on Jack's belly, at a spot between navel and hip. "And I'll be wantin it ta look like this." Grinning, he placed the coin on Jack's stomach. It tingled slightly on his skin and sent a wave of nausea sweeping through him as his body remembered and reacted to the weight of the Aztec curse.

Barbossa ran his hand up Jack's chest, wrapping his fingers lightly around his neck. "This here be special ink, Jack." He grinned cruelly, sprinkling the little pile of gold shavings he had carved from the coin over Jack's face. "It's got a special ingredient. An' once it's in yer skin you'll never be free of it, never be free of me." Barbossa leaned in low, his grayed face menacing over Jack's, his rancid breath faintly nauseating. "The whelp will never be free of me." Jack fought not to betray the dread churning in his stomach, but Christ, Barbossa was right. The damned gold would call to Barbossa forever. Even if he and Will managed to escape, they would never be able to stop running.

The urge to struggle, to put his fist into that slimy bastard's face, was nearly overwhelming, but it was Will who would pay for it. So Jack grit his teeth until he thought that they would crack, and stayed still. "Good, Jack," Barbossa smiled, obviously having seen the conflict in Jack's eyes and pleased that he had mastered himself. "You remember the rules. Now don't be givin' Santos here no trouble. I'd hate ter have t'punish the boy for yer smart mouth." He pinched Jack's thigh and then moved back to Will.

The blacksmith's eyes met Jack's over Barbossa's shoulder and the pirate captain instantly filled his gaze with all the strength he could muster, knowing that his young lover would sorely need it in the moments to come. Will did not disappoint,
but soaked up every drop of offered support. Jack could see it in the subtle raise of the boy's chin, the setting of his jaw. Pride swelling in his chest, Jack watched as Will squared his shoulders and met Barbossa's eyes defiantly, not even flinching when those knarled, bony hands rose to his shoulders and shoved him backwards. "In," Barbossa ordered. "Kneel."

Will obeyed slowly, never breaking the glare that bored into his captor as he stepped into the cooling bathwater and sank to his knees. It was all an act. Even with the distraction of the Spaniard's chilled fingers dancing over his hip, Jack could see that the hands gripping the edges of the wooden tub were pressed white with tension Hold on, Will, Jack urged silently,
trying to ignore how the nib of Santos' quill was beginning to dig a preliminary pattern into his skin.

Barbossa smirked down at Will. "I'd suggest ye get used ta this, whelp." He kept his voice low, deliberately intimate, and Jack saw gooseflesh break out over Will's skin. "Ye were born ta be on yer knees with a mouth like that." Then he chuckled softly at the mutinous look that flashed across Will's face. For a split second, Jack was sure his lover was going to
do something characteristically stupid and he froze, but Will let out a long, low breath, obviously curtailing whatever violent impulse had happened into his mind. Jack released a breath of his own, one he hadn't even realized he had been holding.

Lowering himself beside the tub, Barbossa reached into the water and snagged the waterlogged cloth. He dragged the rag up Will's back, slowly washing the smooth skin. Jack lay watching, still as stone, fingers digging into the wooden planks under his palms.

Carefully, like an artist preparing the canvas of a lifetime, Santos put the final, painstaking touches onto his design, glancing often from the hated coin to the placement and back again. His eyes flashed to Jack's for only a moment as he picked up his equipment, a self-satisfied sneer mutating the stark features into something truly sinister.

As Santos began to bend to his work, Jack steeled himself for the bite of the needle. He knew that it would sting where the sharp point pierced his skin; after all, the pirate captain had several tattoos already. He thought he was prepared for the pain.

He was wrong.