Who We Are

Author's Note: The boys aren't mine. I just borrowed them for a night so I could write this fic. It's all yours, Q! Hope you enjoy it.

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Moonlight drifted through the panes of glass like cobwebs, weaving patterns of light and dark over Will Turner's face. His hair silvered at the touch of the beams, his eyes became dark hollows in his face, and it seemed to Jack that the caress of pale light aged the boy far beyond his years. It gave him the look of one who had seen dire things, unspeakable truths that ravaged the body as surely as time. So many of the men that Jack knew assumed that mantle of pain. So many of them died of it.

Jack put out a hand hesitantly, calloused fingers brushing Will's jawline. The rough tips rasped along the younger man's stubbled skin, and Will looked up, surprise lighting his eyes in the silver-gray darkness. "Jack?" His voice was a whisper, thin and silken like the webs of the moonlight, and barely audible over the waves that lapped the hull of the ship.

"You all right, lad?" Jack looked at his own hand, stained rusty gray by the filtered light, large and workworn against the boy's smooth skin. Will shrugged, a casual roll of the shoulders that told Jack all he needed to know. The boy wasn't all right. He hadn't been all right since they'd set sail but Jack had tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that things were going smoothly. But he had seen the way Will's eyes would lose focus, or the way the boy's hand would unconsciously go to his throat, looking for something that wasn't there. Every time, it broke Jack's heart. He was no stranger to madness, and though he could see that sharp edge in Will's eyes, he knew the boy wasn't losing his grip on reality. There was something else that made him quiet, something else eating at his heart.

"I'm all right," came the answering whisper, soft on Jack's ears. "I just keep thinking. About Elizabeth." Ah, so that was the answer. It was lovesickness that made Will's fingers clumsy, loneliness that set his gaze to the horizon, worry that drove him until he dropped from exhaustion. Jack would be lying if he said he understood, for never having experienced the depth of love that Will cherished, he was not particularly equipped to deal with the pangs of that love lost. Still, he wanted to do what he could for the boy.

"We'll find her." Even to Jack, the words sounded forced and insincere, and Will just looked at him, the tips of his long lashes glittering like snowflakes against the dark shadows smearing his eyes. Jack was struck by how lovely the boy looked sitting there crosslegged on the bed, a study in light and dark, moonbeam and shadow, silver and deep velvet black. Before he could stop himself, he was leaning close, lips barely brushing Will's. It was a there-and-gone sensation, light as a wisp of cloud, but it elicited a gasp from the boy, and Jack smiled.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" The outrage in Will's voice was so delicious that Jack almost tasted it, and so familiar that he wished he could. The accent was all wrong, the phrasing a bit off, but it was close enough for Jack, close enough to send a shiver of lust through his bones.

He didn't reply, not verbally. His mouth met Will's again, hungrily this time, hands rising to the boy's shoulders and pushing him down against the feather mattress. Teeth and tongue nipped and stroked, bit and soothed Will's delicious mouth and by the time the boy managed to shove Jack away, the pirate captain had ascertained that while Will tasted quite different, the feel of his lips was nearly the same as the feel of Bootstrap's had been. Disturbing to think of, really, so Jack resolved not to think of it any more.

"Just a little comfort, love," Jack murmured, bending his head, lips grazing Will's ear. The boy shuddered beneath him, the resisting hands on Jack's shoulders relaxing slightly. "Take your mind off of things for a bit." Will simply stared, lips parted a little in confusion, and Jack, never one to waste an opportunity, swooped in for another kiss.

Surprisingly, Will didn't struggle when Jack's tongue slipped into his mouth. Even more of a surprise, though, was the breathy little moan that escaped him, and the way his fingers tightened against Jack's shoulders, curling into claws and tugging the pirate closer. Jack only allowed himself to be stunned for a moment, then resumed his exploration of Will's mouth. He took his time, tongue stroking languidly along the boy's teeth and palate and twining in a gentle dance of desire with his tongue. Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes seemed to lengthen to hours, and still they kissed, Jack unwilling to pull away from a tantalizing sweetness that seemed just out of reach.

Will was the one who turned away first, gasping and shivering, his eyes wild and frightened. "Jack...we shouldn't..." His voice was thick, throaty with arousal, and Jack chose to respond to that, ignoring the negative words. Fingers made quick and strong from years of labor went to work on Will's shirt and had it open in a trice. It was off the boy's shoulders almost as fast and fluttering to the floor before Will had a chance to breath. "My god..." and his voice was amused now, a laugh bubbling just behind the words. "What are you, a pirate or a pickpocket?"

"Both," Jack replied, hands eagerly devouring smooth young skin. "Neither." He found a nipple, teased it to a point with his ragged fingernails. Will's chorus of gasps and moans was almost as beautiful to his ears as the roar of the waves, and as he dipped his head, a smile flitted across his lips. "Does it matter?" Will's answer was lost in the strangled cry of surprise he gave when Jack's teeth closed around his nipple. One hand went to the back of the pirate's head, holding it there even as he arched his back, pushing himself against Jack's lips.

Jack murmured endearments into Will's skin as his hands drifted down, tracing the faint ridge of the boy's ribcage, the taut skin along his waist, the quivering muscles of his stomach. He released Will's nipple, lips drifting downwards tok ank and taste the salty skin of Will's abdomen. Sharp teeth, bone-white in the moonlight, left vivid red marks on Will's silvered flesh, drew moans of pain and lust from his throat. As he teased Will's stomach, tongue dipping hungrily into the boy's navel, Jack's fingers went to work on the fastenings of Will's trousers. Deft and sure, they loosened and shoved them down, off his hips, off his legs, and finally to the floor.

Jack took a moment then to savor the sight laid out before him. Will no longer seemed old and tired; now, instead of sapping his youth, the moon gilded his body, highlighting the perfection of young muscles, tracing the graceful sweep of long bones. Jack drank it in greedily, having been deprived too long of youth and beauty, and sorely missing both. Then, with a tenderness that surprised both of them, his lips continued downward, grazing the peak of Will's hipbone. The boy gasped and bucked his hips up, legs spreading eagerly, and Jack could feel the fine trembling of Will's muscles beneath his calloused hands.

"You want this, Will?" he murmured, each word sending a warm puff of air brushing across the sensitive skin of the boy's pelvis. Will whimpered in reply, a hand descending to tangle in Jack's dark hair, trying to force his head to the right. The pirate laughed, nipped at the inside of Will's thigh. God, the boy's skin tasted good..."No guilt in the morning.'m o'm only doing this to keep you from moping, savvy?" Will gasped out a word that could have been any number of things, but from the way he was twisting and writhing, Jack took it to mean yes. "Good lad."

His lips wrapped easily around the head of Will's cock and in spite of the boy's breathless begging, Jack paused. It had been a while since he'd last found himself in this position and, as he drew his tongue in swirling circles along the smooth skin, he caught himself flashing back. Back to the last time he'd had a cock in his mouth, a body beneath him. This body it seemed to his hands and his mouth, both stroking and probing places that they had been a thousand times before, bringing forth the gasps and the sweet, begging words that had fallen on his ears so many years ago. Here, on the outside of the thigh, was the scar from that unfortunate run-in with the Royal Navy. There, just below the ribcage, would be the birthmark shaped like a cross, or a dagger. Jack was lost in remembering, hands and mouth moving of their own accord, sucking and petting and pinching just so.

A finger, slick with saliva, crept down between the boy's legs, pressing into him with no warning. A cry of surprise passed his lips, and he tried to twist away from the sensation, but Jack held him fast, fingertip searching out the sweet spot and stroking it gently. Will moaned tremulously, his muscles shuddering with each ke oke of Jack's finger, and Jack echoed the sound, mouth still locked around the boy's erection. He was achingly hard, cock straining painfully against his trousers. It was difficult for him to resist simply thrusting into Will and fucking him into oblivion, but Jack knew from personal experience that sex should not be rushed. This was his first and only time with the boy, and he intended it to be memorable in a good way.

Amidst Will's crescendoing cries of pleasure, a second finger joined the first, scissoring apart, thrusting in and out with deep, long strokes. The boy's body was practically out of control, twisting and writhing, limbs tangling around Jack, cock hard as steel in the pirate's mouth. It was almost too familiar to Jack, almost too painful, but he kept going. He forced himself to keep going if only for the sake of the boy, whom he suspected would explode if not finished off properly. Jack's free hand descended to fumble with his trousers, less graceful now that he himself was fully aroused, but still quick, still sure. There was no time to bother with his shirt, barely time to pull his mouth off of Will's cock and spit in his hand.

"Jack..." The boy's eyes glittered pure blue in the moonlight, heartbreakingly beautiful in his boyishly handsome face. His features twisted in need, fingers reaching for Jack, pulling him back down. Their lips met in a harsh, hungry kiss and Jack, breath taken away by the ferocity of Will's mouth on his, could only tremble in lust for several long seconds. When the kiss broke, both of them gasping for air, Jack stared down at the boy with new eyes. He was so gorgeous there in the pale light... Moonbeams danced across his naked body, envious that it was Jack who stroked those lean muscles, Jack who kissed that smooth skin. "Please...Jack..."

Will's body twisted, arching up to press against the pirate, and Jack came back to himself, giving the boy a lopsided smile as he stroked a hand down his cock, slicking it with his own spit. "Brace yourself, love," he whispered. The head of his cock rubbed hungrily against the opening to the boy's body, and Will gasped, tensing his muscles in anticipation. "Relax...Hurts less if you relax." But Jack couldn't wait, couldn't hold back long enough to let the boy get used to the idea. He entered Will with a sharp jerk of the hips, the head of his cock slipping past the ring of muscle and penetrating the boy with surprising ease.

They both stopped for a moment, overcome by the sensation. Will's muscles were tense around Jack, either with nervousness or just plain virginal tightness, though Jack suspected it was a combination of the two. Whatever it was, it held him in a hot, sweet embrace and set the muscles in his stomach to fluttering in anticipation. Slowly, gently, he pressed in, the two of them gasping as one, moving together. Will's legs wrapped tight around Jack's waist, pulling him deeper, hips canting up eagerly as Jack slid further and further into his tight young body.

Fully sheathed, Jack paused, relishing the feel of being buried inside the boy. His mind, overcome by the sensation, drifted again, recalling other lovers, other nights of sweat and passion and moonlight. He began to thrust lazily, each stroke bringing him almost all the way out before plunging him back to the hot depths of Will's body. The boy's cries of pleasure and pain mingled in Jack's head with the cries of lovers past, one in particular that Jack seemed never able to forget. Will was so like him, such an exact duplicate that it was almost uncanny. Every muscle, every bone, every little expression and gesture and the way his eyes lit up when he smiled...His voice rose in the same fever pitch of desire, every nerve pushed to the limit as he c spi spilling hot and wet across Jack's stomach.

"Ah, Jesus..." Jack's hoarse whisper was lost in the sobs of relief and completion that tore ragged from the boy's throat. Every thrust brought him nearer his climax, each more rough than the last until finally he exploded within Will, vision lost in a haze of pleasure as he buried his face in the boy's neck and murmured into his skin. "William..." he hissed, forgetting in his ecstasy who lay beneath him. "Sweet Jesus, Bill..."

Will either did not hear or did not care, for he wrapped his arms around Jack and held him close until the trembling stopped. They did not look at each other, did not speak. The silence that lay between them said enough, and as Jack stripped off his shirt to clean his belly, he wondered what Bootstrap would say to this. Unbidden, the memory of his first night with Bill rose up in his mind and he smiled at the words that echoed in his head, a comfort in the dark from a friend long dead. We do what we do, Jack, because of who we are, Bill had said, eyes twinkling in the darkness, arms twining around Jack's shoulders. If we did anything else, we wouldn't be ourselves, now would we? All those years ago, Jack had fallen asleep to those words, spooned up behind Bill, and as his eyes drifted shut, his lips parted in a wide smile. How appropriate to drift off to them now, nose buried in Will's hair, lingling the scent of his new Turner.