Stranded
Author: Daniela
Fandom: PotC: Pirates of the Caribbean
Pairing: Sparrington
Rating: NC17
Category: Angst, Adventure, Romance
Series/Sequel: Yes
Summary: Jack and James are stranded.
Warning: M/M, Slash
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Nobody is capable of owning them.
Feedback: Is my treasure.
Email: daniforblue@yahoo.de
Beta: Monika, Ysolde
Released: September 2003
Revised: January 2020
Word Count: 10700
James broke free from the web of darkness, coughing and uncurling. He smelled the ocean; a minty freshness, and tasted salt in his mouth. The sound of breaking waves rushed in his ears. He opened his eyes. The bright light hitting his retina made the pain in his skull almost unbearable. His body hurt worse.
The ocean was lying right ahead, glistening in alluring green. He tried to stand up. He couldn't. His hands were tied behind his back. He was bound to a - palm tree? Dazed he looked around. He was on some beach. But where? And how? What had happened? He couldn't remember a thing. He tore at his bonds. They didn't shift. Not a bit. "Damn." What now? Was he alone here? Who had tied him up then? Where the hell was he? He searched the horizon. Not the tiniest sign of any ship. Ship? Oh God! A surge of memories washed over him.
A fight on a ship. The Black Pearl. The ship of that pirate Sparrow! He was fighting him. All the men were fighting. Sparrow's pirates against his men. He remembered shouting and gunshots. There was fire everywhere. He didn't care. Sparrow was all he cared about. Standing in front of him, the familiar smirk on his face. That alone was enough to enrage him. He attacked the pirate again and again trying to strike him down. He was forgetting what was happening around him. Only beating Sparrow mattered. What then? He didn't remember...
...until he was waking up here. Hurt. Bound. Captured. But why and by whom? Damn that pirate, the filthy scoundrel. I am certain this is his fault. I hate him.
He viewed the surrounding area. Sand. Water. Palm trees. Nothing else. It couldn't be worse. The sun was shining mercilessly on the glittering sand. The waves were ploughing ceaselessly against the shore. The suffocating heat was already taking its toll. I am going to die here. Alone and forgotten.
A figure was coming from the left into his field of vision. Or maybe not. He squinted. That walk. I am having a nightmare. He can't be here. It was him though. The pirate. Jack Sparrow. Coming closer and closer.
Sparrow winked at him. "Aye-aye, Commodore. Feeling comfortable?"
"Sparrow!" he sailed into his worst enemy.
Sparrow shrugged. "The very same. Always at yer service."
"Where am I..." he fumbled for the proper insult "... bloody pirate."
"I don't know."
"Where are my men?"
"I don't know that either. We're alone here. Just ye and me, mate. Fun, eh?"
"But, what..." He was muted by Sparrow's mysterious smile. What about this makes him so happy? Nothing about this is good or joyful?
"What happened?" Sparrow pursued. "Ye attacked me. Something exploded behind ye. Ye were flung overboard. I came after ye."
James stared up to him. "Why?"
Sparrow kneeled down in front of him. "I assumed ye were knocked unconscious. I didn't want ye to drown." He seized James' head by the dishevelled brown hair.
James flinched. His wig was gone and he felt the bold touch of the pirate up to the roots.
"I grabbed ye," Sparrow went on, "luckily found a plank and pulled us onto it. We were drifting away from the ships. Nobody noticed."
"Where is my jacket?"
"I had to pull it off. It was too heavy. It could have dragged ye down to Davy Jones' locker."
"How did we come to be here?"
"Kismet." The pirate eyed him closely. His distinct smile didn't fade.
James was looking at his bare feet. Stockings and boots were gone.
"Ye look different without that wig. So defenceless."
He shuddered. What might the pirate do to him? "Where did you get the rope you tied me up with?"
Sparrow flashed him a mischievous grin. "The rope was part of the plank that brought us here."
I am his prisoner. I am in his grip. He can do whatever he wants to me. He could kill me right now. "What do you want to do with me?" he croaked.
"I don't know - yet." He moved closer. "What do ye want me to do with ye?"
"Cut me loose," James snapped at his captor, though he was trembling
Sparrow shook his head. "Untied ye're much too dangerous."
"You can't keep me like this."
"Ye have incredible green eyes," Sparrow mumbled, touching the spot below James' ear. "The same colour as the sea."
James blinked. "What?"
Sparrow edged his knee between James' legs. He pulled James' face nearer to his own. "I'm getting excited about this, luv. Us. Here. Alone." His lips were touching the same spot below James' ear that his fingers had felt up shortly before.
James didn't move a muscle. This is not real, is it? I was wounded and pull through a delirium. An odd delusion...
"I think I know now, what I want to do with ye," the pirate whispered, his lips sliding over to James' mouth.
"What are you doing?" James gasped. "Are you mad?"
"Aye, as ye've always presumed," Sparrow agreed, and shut James with a soft and long kiss. A kiss too intimate to be called casual or a tease.
In vain James struggled and tried to pull away. Was he too enfeebled or didn't he want to fight back? Was he even returning the kiss, if just for a second? No! No, no.
Sparrow broke the kiss, licking his lips. "I've always wanted to do that."
James felt a blush creeping over his cheeks.
"I think we'll have a lot of fun here, eh?"
"You bastard. I will kill you!"
"Are ye sure, mate?"
"I am bloody sure!" James tore at his bonds. That was in vain as well. The bonds were too tight.
Sparrow kissed him once more.
James shook with revolt. He closed his eyes. He couldn't stand the pirate's mockery and deviousness.
Sparrow brushed his lips gently over his cheek. "Next time, we'll take it further. What do ye say?"
James tore his eyes open.
Sparrow laughed.
"Don't ever touch me again! I will hunt you down and kill you!"
That threat did nothing to his enemy. "Never stop hunting me, luv. I don't want our competition to stop. I want to go on. Forever and ever. Further and further." He stood up. "I'll try to find some water." He turned to the landside.
"Sparrow! Come back here! Set me free!"
Sparrow didn't look back. He was whistling.
James kept wriggling to get out of this tight spot. Next time. Next time. What is happening to me? "God damn you, Jack Sparrow." I will fight this. I will fight you. You are a pirate. Your only purpose is to hang. I will bring you to this. I hate you so much. I could kill you right now. I could... The sweet arousal he was feeling in his groin taught him otherwise. He imagined Jack Sparrow in his grip, bound like he was. Sparrow at his mercy. What he would do to him, though the image that was coming to his mind wasn't about torturing the pirate. Not at all. James was shaking with shame. Good God! What is wrong with me? Did the heat already make me mad?
*****
Jack finished whistling and started humming. He felt as alive as a man could ever be. The Commodore didn't know how lucky they were. While Norrington had lain unconscious, he had already explored the island. This spit of sand wasn't large, but it wasn't as small as the one Barbossa had once left him on to die.
On this island he had even found a cave. Big enough to hide inside it would also serve as a perfect shelter from both the heat and the hurricanes the Caribbean seas were notorious for. In the back of the cave, he had discovered a streamlet of freshwater, running out of the stones. Not much, but enough to stay alive. He took the bottle attached to his belt and filled it with water. The rum in the bottle was long gone. That was bad but it could be worse. After he had stilled his thirst he leaned against the solid rock wall.
He could survive for days without water, without shelter or even without some lovely company. But now he had a British officer to hold as his prisoner. When he had captured Norrington his first plan had been to have just some fun, humiliate the man. Aye. He had already succeeded at that. But he wasn't feeling as satisfied as he thought he would be. Aye. He couldn't stop thinking about him, could still feel the Commodore's lips on his own. Arrr! That kiss. He wasn't surprised that he liked Norrington. From the first moment he had looked upon that man; he knew he was in trouble. He had never forgotten the officer's mocking remarks.
'A captain without a ship... a compass that doesn't point north... a sword, I half expected to be made of wood.'
"Will ye take a look for yerself Commodore at what me sword is really made of?" Jack had been tempted to say. He smirked. At another run-in, Norrington had ordered him to be silent as the grave, oh that fine officer liked to give the orders. It must be hard for him to be not in control, helpless and at his mercy.
Jack felt the urge to go back and kiss him again. He still wanted to have fun with his prisoner, though for pleasure, not to humiliate him. He wanted to touch Norrington all over, get rid of those breeches and all his other clothes, giving him much more than kisses on the mouth. His fantasies were fired up, Norrington kissing back, letting his smooth yet strong hands running down his back....
Belay! Jack chuckled. Untied Norrington wouldn't permit any kissing nor return the favour. Not from him. Not from Jack Sparrow. He hates me. The moment I release him, he'll knock me down for kissing him that one time. Maybe he'll kill me. Aye. He'll try at least. He sighed. Ye're much too old for having such dreams, me boy. Getting horny about yer enemy. Ye're much too old to be playing games. Kissing the Commodore, bound and defenceless. Shame on ye ol' Jackie-boy. He sneered. Shiver me timbers! Fucking a British officer would be some curious adventure, wouldn't it? Something to make me day. Aye. I won't find out with this particular British officer though.
Supplied with plenty of water Jack left the cave and went back to the beach, back to the unsuspecting object of his desire. Just as he had left him, he found the officer still bound to the palm-tree.
The face of the Commodore was hard as steel, his eyes emptied of any feeling.
Jack could see he was exhausted. He didn't have any strength left to fight back. "Feeling better, mate?"
"No, I'm burning up here."
"It wasn't me intention to torture ye." He stared at Norrington's lips. "Not much." He fetched the bottle and opened it. "Drink something." For a few seconds he thought Norrington was stubborn enough to refuse his offer but he was wrong.
Norrington opened his mouth and sipped carefully, letting only a few drops touch his lips. Just then he took a whole sip and swallowed with visible relief.
Jack was pleased. "It isn't that bad here. We have water. I found a comfy, cool cave...."
Norrington's head jerked up.
"Ye heard me right, luv. I discovered it, exploring the area."
"When?"
"While ye were still a sleeping beauty."
"You already found some shelter and still let me burn up here?"
"Not forever, luv. Just for the moment. I admit it was fun to see ye so miserable. So-"
Norrington exhaled. "Shut up."
Jack wasn't offended. "Eh? If ye...."
"Shut up." Norrington looked as if he was in great pain. "Listen. I have to..."
"What?"
"I have to... you know... what everyone... I need to...."
Jack chuckled. "It's nature's call, eh?"
Shame was written all over Norrington's face under the amused stare of his enemy. "Yes... in fact, now. It is urgent."
Jack drew his dagger. "If ye promise to behave I'll undo yer bonds. Just for this particular call."
"I won't promise you anything."
"Oh!"
"I am an officer of the British Navy and I won't promise anything to a pirate. I will see you hanged first."
Jack smirked. "Would ye like it better if I were to kiss ye again?"
"Don't you dare!" Norrington glared at him.
Jack enjoyed this game way too much; he kept teasing him. "It's yer choice. Another kiss from me or a promise from ye to behave. Savvy?"
Norrington clenched his jaw, his eyes flashed in the most amazing green.
Aw. Such fire. I'm hooked. "I'm waiting for yer answer, Commodore."
"I promise to behave," Norrington snarled, digging his bare feet into the sand.
Jack beamed. "We have an accord then." He went to the back of the palm tree and undid the bonds.
Norrington shortly struggled with the balance but managed to stand up on his own.
"The ocean is waiting, me dear Commodore." Jack nudged him.
Norrington groaned but walked straight ahead to the water. He didn't proceed further though.
"Ashamed in front of me? Go on, luv. I promise I won't look."
Norrington snorted.
Jack turned his head to the landside and observed the palm trees. He was humming. Shortly after the sound of splashing came to his ears. He started to whistle. Against all odds he was in a great mood and he couldn't wait for what else the day might bring to inspire him. The splashing sound ended. He twitched, ready to take a look after all. He was knocked down by a punch the next second. Blimey! He stumbled, got to his knees, but was quickly back on his feet.
Norrington was running to the line of palm trees.
Jack started chasing him. It was plain sailing. Norrington was much slower. The heat had weakened him. Jack caught up with him and tackled him to the ground. They struggled shortly. Norrington was taller and broad-shouldered but Jack was much more flexible. He got on top of his enemy and put the dagger to his throat.
Norrington froze in motion.
"Ye broke yer promise, matey. Is that the behaviour of a British officer?"
"Let go of me, bastard."
"Ye're in no position to threaten me. Though yer position is quite juicy. Maybe ye behaved so badly because ye wanted me to chase after ye and capture ye. Maybe ye wanted me to get on top of ye, eh?"
"You are mad."
"Mm, luv. I think I know what ye need." With his right hand he was still holding the dagger against Norrington's throat. His left hand was sliding down to do more delightful things. "Ye remember what I told ye an hour ago?"
"Not at all," Norrington said, trembling. "Don't touch me! I warned you...."
"Did Miss Swann never touch ye there?"
"Certainly not. She is a lady."
"Oh, me poor Commodore." He was busy stroking the man's privates through the fabric of the breeches.
"Sparrow, stop this!" Norrington wriggled under him though not convincingly.
Jack didn't let go. "Considering the state of affairs ye can call me Jack." He increased the pressure. His mouth watered and he licked his lips.
"Stop it. Please," Norrington begged, struggling little more.
Just now Jack was feeling some response, swelling up under his hand. "Oh Commodore, I feel someone doesn't agree with ye."
Norrington turned his face to the right. He was gasping though.
Jack removed the dagger from his enemy's throat. "Do ye want more? Just say it. I won't stop. I'll get him out."
Norrington turned his face back to him. "I-I... think... I..."
"Just don't think so much, luv." Jack muted him with a searing kiss. Norrington writhed under him; his legs were threshing the sand. A few seconds later he arched up and a shudder ran through him. Then the tension in his body was gone. Norrington had come in his breeches.
Jack broke the kiss and forgot to feel superior. "Already! I was just getting started."
Norrington was shaking, his face flushed crimson.
Jack's marauder heart melted. "Our Commodore hasn't had fun for a long time, eh?" No reply. Even though Jack was a pirate he was not the kind of bastard who would beat down on a man looking shattered. He stood up and pulled his enemy to his feet. He tied the officer's hands behind his back. "Let's take a look at the cave. What say ye?"
Norrington remained silent and like that they marched to the cave. Inside the chill shelter Jack put Norrington down in a tolerably comfy swale. "Get some rest, luv."
"Stop calling me that!" Norrington scrabbled about in the swale.
Jack brought him more water to drink. This time the Commodore refused the offer.
"Do ye want me to clean yer privates?"
"Keep your hands to yourself!"
"Just asking. If I had known...."
"Shut up. I do not need your pity."
"It's not..."
"Will you shut up? Just for one minute. Is it possible?"
"Aye, lu- matey." Jack went to the other side of the cave and curled up against the wall. He closed his eyes.
Norrington kept on shifting around.
Jack wondered about the cause for his enemy's restlessness. "Next time we'll get rid of those breeches first," he said in the softest voice.
Norrington exhaled, the echo of the flustered sound bounced off the stony walls, but he stopped moving.
Jack smirked. Arrr! That alone made me day.
*****
Fire. Explosions. Men fighting for their lives. A familiar and beloved face, captured by the shadow of death, a scream, and then... water, dark, black water. He was drowning in its abysmal depths, sinking deeper and deeper. Mortal fear was creeping over him, turning his heart to ice. He struggled to get to the surface, struggled and struggled, then opened his mouth in need for air, though only water filled his lungs....
No. Don't give up. Don't surrender. James flailed his arms and kicked his legs. I am not beaten yet. Not today. Just not... He jerked awake. His heart was racing, his fingers were numb from chilliness. The darkness surrounding him increased his disorientation. Am I still dreaming? Is this place part of the nightmare? Or is the nightmare the reality I am caught up in? Good grief!
He was in a cave on an isle. He was Sparrow's prisoner. The pirate was having the upper hand and laughing up his sleeve. The darkness pointed out it was night. He sensed he was alone. Sparrow wasn't here. He didn't feel comforted by the pirate's absence though. He didn't want to be alone. Not now. He had never felt so lost. The recent nightmare had brought the most gruesome trauma of the past to the surface. A trauma he would never get over. Come on. Leave this cold and unpleasant place. Keep fighting! Given that his hands were still bound it was tricky to get to his feet and he couldn't prevent hurting his wrists in the process. That damn rope. I need to get rid of it. I need to get the upper hand to stay alive.
Outside the cave an enchanting moon and countless stars were filling the firmament. The only sound he heard was the waves ploughing against the beach. This place was peaceful, beautiful even. He looked up to the stars. What a mess this was. Yesterday he had tried to escape by running away. Where to? What had he been thinking? He had embarrassed himself. Then the pirate had succeeded in humiliating him much more. He trembled with the memory of what Jack Sparrow had done to him. He hated him so much. He despised him more than anyone else. But he would be dead without Sparrow. Drowned. Rotting on the bottom of the ocean. Forgotten. Who would care if he had died? His family was long gone. Elizabeth only cared about William Turner. So no one. Why, no. That is not true. There are two people who would care if I am gone. Two people who love me. But it is not the kind of love Elizabeth feels for Turner, not the kind of love I want for myself. James sighed; he certainly envied the boy for having this kind of love.
Still bemoaning his grim fate he reached the beach. Where is that bloody pirate? Scheming against me? Gloating about my misfortune? Ah, there he is. Taking a swim in the ocean. Bloody hell! He was feeling incredibly filthy and that bastard went swimming. Sweat, salt and his own dried juices... his body had become so sticky he was disgusted, particularly about the way he smelled. Well, no hope to change that tonight. Not after his attempt to escape. He sat down, unburdening his sore muscles, watching Sparrow.
The pirate spotted him shortly after, and was swimming back to the shore. Dripping wet and in clinging breeches he soared from the water.
James caught himself staring at the tan and slender body, glistening in the moonlight. Why is his presence soothing my fears? What powers does he possess to keep me mesmerized?
Sparrow moved deliberately slowly towards him, shaking his damp dreadlocks.
Unable to move his eyes away from the enticing sight James was feeling insanely insecure. For heaven's sake. What was wrong with him? Was he caught up in Sparrow's game already? He dug his heels into the sand, churning the coarse material up to keep control of his inner struggle. That is all this is, isn't it? A game.
"Ye want to jump in, go for a swim yerself?"
"Hardly."
"Come on. Don't be stubborn. Ye don't want to stick to those breeches forever, do ye?"
James ignored the sting of shame and anger piercing him. He kept his control by digging his feet into the sand until his toes hurt. "Not at all, but my hands are bound."
Sparrow yanked his dagger out. "I'll cut yer bonds. Ye won't try to escape again, will ye?"
"What is the point? There is nowhere to run."
"Aye. Promise ye'll not knock me down again."
"I...."
"...won't promise anything to a pirate, eh?"
James was done arguing. He was beyond exhausted and longed to clean himself. "I won't try anything. I already said it is useless."
"Aye. That's the spirit." Sparrow cut the rope.
James got to his feet and rubbed his sore wrists. His shoulders were burning too. Carefully he stretched his limbs.
"What are ye waiting for, Commodore? Are ye ashamed to undress in front of me?"
James shot him a glare, of course in vain. Ignoring the pirate's wicked look he shuffled to the ocean stripping his worn-out shirt off. In breeches he jumped in. The expected saltiness was prickly refreshing and drove the last shreds of his nightmare from his body and mind. Swimming on his back, looking up at the sky and its stars he let himself drift for quite a while. He knew Sparrow was keeping an eye on him. He didn't feel threatened by that. He just wondered if the pirate was waiting for him to break. Well, that would never happen. He was stronger than the pirate thought. Now that he was free of the bonds he would do everything to keep Sparrow at arm's length.
Come on. Go in and win! He left the water ready to challenge an entire gang of pirates but was distracted by a growling sound from his stomach. Right. He was starving. The sound was vivid enough to be heard for miles, certainly the pirate wouldn't miss it.
"Sorry, mate. All we have right now are some coconuts. In the early morning I'll go fishing."
"Agreed." Let him take the lead. Let him think he is in control.
"Listen, about what happened earlier today...."
"I don't want to talk about it!" he snapped, putting his shirt back on. "Didn't you humiliate me enough?"
"I remember ye didn't mind that much."
"Shut up! That is not-" He stopped, working his jaw. Stay in control. Don't play along. "Just stop harassing me."
"Sorry for giving ye a good time, luv."
"Stop calling me that!"
"Why's that bothering ye? It's just me way of talking. I call many people luv."
"I don't want to be one of them."
"Obviously." The pirate smirked.
James laid down in the hollow he had scrapped into the sand. He didn't want to go back to the cave until sunrise. It was too chilly there. "Stop calling me love, Sparrow. That is not too much to ask."
"If ye'll start calling me Jack maybe."
James clenched his fists. "Never. That is a promise."
"Aye. Got it." Jack shrugged. "Though nothing is impossible, eh?"
In particular being stranded on this spit of sand. As well as me not being lost to the sea, or us sitting on this beach, chatting like old cronies, James considered, and muttered some words under his breath he had never meant to say to his enemy.
"What now, eh?"
"Thanks for saving my life. Without you, I would have drowned."
Sparrow gaped at him. His deep black eyes glowed in the moonlight. "Whatever, matey." He dropped down, at least five feet away from James, sprawling. "I would do it again. Savvy?"
What the hell? "Certainly," James scoffed, not believing such rubbish. The pirate would save me again? Why so? What is his game?
"Rest now, Commodore. At sunrise I'll go fishing. I'm good at it. Well, I'm good at everything. I'm Jack Sparrow."
"Captain Jack Sparrow," James murmured, delighted to rub the pirate's conceit in. Though he was already drifting off to sleep he could still hear Sparrow's laughter.
"Aye. Ye and I we'll have..."
James didn't get the conclusion of that statement. He had fallen asleep. Neither bad dreams nor the shadows of his past were haunting him. That wasn't because the pirate was within spitting distance, was it?
Nah. Not on your nelly.
*****
Jack opened his eyes. For a few seconds he lolled, wallowing in the inspiring dream he was having. Blimey! Such craving. He turned on his left side, yawning.
His lovely companion was still asleep. Norrington's expression was calm, peaceful even; all worries had vanished from the attractive face.
That's it. The opportune moment. Jack reached out and brushed over his enemy's cheek. The skin was scratchy, unshaven, but still delightful to touch. Jack moved his hand along to the full lips, lingering at the sensitive corners. One kiss, only one more kiss. Norrington wouldn't know.
Norrington shifted and Jack pulled his hand back. Go on. Let him rest. He's more useful having his strength back. A different hunger was tormenting him anyway, aye, his stomach was aching for food. Time to catch some breakfast. Jack tore his eyes away from his dear enemy and fetched the stick he had found yesterday. At one end he had already sharpened it, transforming it into a spear. Aye. Let's do this. Maybe Norrington will be grateful. He snorted, and walked to the water.
He waded several feet into the ocean, searching for a good place to stand undisturbed by the undercurrent. The proper spot to pry for some big fish to catch. Fishing with a spear wasn't easy. Not as easy as he'd claimed it would be. But a little bragging didn't hurt anyone, did it? He was used to embellish the truth all his life. Sometimes he lost track of which story did or did not happen, what was true and what a fantasy. The adventure here and now was real, though people might think he had made it up if he tell them about it.
He could feel drops of sweat running down his face and the water floating around his thighs. The sun was rising higher and higher, getting hotter and hotter. Despite the heat he kept staring at the water, spear in hand, his attention focused on the fish darting by. He knew his aim had to be exact. In the background he could hear Norrington shouting his name. He paid no heed. A big fish was within his reach. He wanted this one. He needed this one. His empty stomach cramped at the thought of food.
"Sparrow!"
Jack didn't turn around to Norrington. He could hardly hear him anyway. The surge was too powerful. What does Norrington want? Doesn't he see I'm trying to get us something to eat? Is he that ignorant or just damn self-righteous?
"Jack!!!" Norrington screamed at the top of his lungs. "A shark!!"
Jack jerked around grasping why Norrington was freaking out. Just then he felt an intense pull at his right thigh. The spear dropped from his hand. He gasped and pulled his dagger out. Blindly he knifed down and hit firm matter. But the dagger bounced back from the shark's skin.
The creature's iron jaws kept hold of his thigh, his black dead-looking eyes rolling around. The strong tail fin threshed the water, making resounding waves.
Staring into one of those dark eyes, which promised death and little else, Jack sensed a horrible shadow floating by. Is this it, eh? The route to Davey Jones' locker? Is this me end? Nay! He stabbed the dangerous beast again and again, until it opened his jaws and let go of his thigh.
The bloody shark though, didn't stop attacking him.
The second impact by the enormous creature was too much. Jack stumbled backwards. I'm going to die on this forsaken place in the ocean. Killed by a fish in shallow water. I'm going to die satisfying a shark's hunger.
The greedy beast didn't care for his dark thoughts but attacked once more.
Jack could see the fearful, edged teeth coming for him. In a final act of desperation, he aimed and stabbed his dagger deep in one dark rolling eye. His aim held true. He pulled the dagger out and repeated his manoeuvre a second time.
The shark jerked his head free and glided away into deeper water, on the hunt for easier bait.
Gripping the bloody dagger like a lifeline, Jack swayed on his feet. He saw blood mingling with the water. The shark's blood was his first idea but then he felt the screaming sensation in his thigh. Blimey! I've been bitten. He looked down. His right thigh was bleeding heavily. The shock hit him then. He became dizzy, losing his balance. He collapsed into the water, going under. Only for a second though. Strong arms grabbed him and pulled him up.
The Commodore. "Sparrow! Did he bite you?" Just now he spotted the slashed breeches and the lashings of blood tinting the water. "Oh my God!"
Not able to stand on his feet, Jack was clinging to him. "Aye."
Norrington kept hold of him. "Can you walk? We have to get you back to the beach."
"Some help wouldn't be amiss."
"Hold on." Norrington hauled him through the water.
Though Jack could barely support his saviour they reached the sandy beach and the comforting shadow of the palm-trees. Norrington leaned Jack against one of the trees.
Jack slid down to the bottom. His leg had started to hurt horribly, a pounding burning feeding on his flesh.
Norrington kneeled down beside him. "How are you feeling?"
"God-awful," Jack moaned, flailing his arms.
Norrington was checking out Jack's thigh. "I have to slice the right leg of your breeches."
"Stripped to the bone," he quipped, but then he shuddered due to the shock.
"Don't be silly. You are bleeding a lot." He searched for Jack's dagger.
Jack let him have it. If he wants to kill me, now is the opportune moment.
The Commodore didn't slash his throat though, only his breeches, right between the knee and the hip. At once, blood spilled out soaking the sand. "I have to bandage the wound to keep you from bleeding out."
The jagged, frayed wound looked bad indeed. Pieces of skin were missing; at some spots you could see the raw meat. Jack groaned. "I should have killed that bloody monster."
"Calm down. It could be worse." Norrington pulled his shirt over his head and tore it into strips.
Shirtless Norrington was a vision of delight. Sink yer teeth into that! "Shiver me timbers! Stripped to-"
"Will you shut up, idiot. Do you want to bleed to death?" Norrington lifted Jack's leg, wrapped the strip around, pulling it tight, again and again. His touch was firm yet amazingly gentle.
Watching his enemy doing such a mighty deed to him Jack was feeling astonishment and a lot more. "I'm so hungry."
Norrington glared at him but kept touching him, of course only to affirm that the bandage was tight enough. His fingers moved higher and higher though, coming close to a most favoured part.
Jack's pain mingled with a downright different sensation, the sweetest dragging, a prickling from head to toe. "I'm getting horny too."
"God damn it, Sparrow! You almost got killed. How could you even... for heaven's sake!" He stared at the distinct swelling in Jack's breeches.
He shrugged. "It's yer fault. Ye touched me."
"Excuse me if I made the mistake to come near that area."
Jack grabbed his hand. "Touch me some more."
Norrington tore his hand free. "I promise I won't."
He smirked. "One more promise to a pirate. Oh me dear Commodore."
"Enough already!" Norrington bounced up and pulled Jack to his feet. "I am fed up with your games."
Jack cried out. "I'm not playing any games."
Norrington pushed him away. "If you can get horny, you can walk on your own."
"Please, luv. I'm..." Jack swayed and leaned back against him. "...a little weak." Seizing Norrington by the muscled upper arms, he was feeling the steady and strong heartbeat of his enemy. Still horny though.
"You are disgusting! Keep that... keep away from me."
"Sorry, but I can't walk alone."
"Sod it!" Norrington exhaled and rolled his eyes. "Fine. Put your arm around my shoulders." He seized Jack by the middle. "And shut up."
Why, yes! Jack bit his malicious tongue for two selfish reasons. Norrington ordering him around was making him yet harder and the pain in his leg had turned severe.
In silence they made it to the cave, where Norrington lowered him down and brought him some water. "I will go fishing, because we need something to eat."
"Are ye good at fishing?"
"Not at all. I am good at minding sharks though."
Jack laughed. "Savvy." He picked at the bandage. "Do tell, luv. Did ye call me 'Jack' when ye were running to save me?"
"Me? The shock of the injury must have played tricks on your mind."
"Mm, are ye sure? I could have sworn I heard ye calling me 'Jack'."
Norrington shuffled his feet. "I didn't. The blood loss must have unhinged you."
Jack wasn't picking at the bandage anymore but at one red bead plaited into his hair. "What's yer problem calling me 'Jack' anyway?"
"You are my enemy. A pirate. That is enough."
"I think calling me 'Sparrow' pleases ye."
Norrington snorted. "I am going fishing now. Leaving you alone to indulge in your illusions."
"Oh Commodore. I think the bandage isn't tight enough. I need a hand."
Norrington shook his head. "I don't think so. I am good at enwrapping."
Jack pouted. "Well, luv. I just want to point one thing out. Today ye missed an opportune moment."
"Stop this. I won't touch your...."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Ye can't stop thinking about that, eh?" Aw. Look. His enemy was blushing. "I meant the opportune moment to kill me."
"I won't kill you."
"Oh!"
"I will bring you back to Port Royal and there you will hang."
Jack winced. The shark bite was torturing him. The hunger in his stomach was excruciating.
"That prospect pleases me." Norrington turned around and left the cave.
Jack squeezed his eyes shut. Norrington's words etched deeper than the teeth of the shark or the pangs of hunger. Those words made clear he was still worth nothing to Norrington. What's going on, eh? Why had Norrington saved me anyway? Aye. He wants to see me hang. Maybe I deserve that because I did play him, didn't I? I didn't fake fainting or hurting, but I could've stand up anytime if I wanted to. I've been injured much worse in the past, though I kept fighting and walking. Sometimes, I even kept running. Aye. I'm playing the Commodore a bit. What's me plan, eh? Even though he hates me, I won't give up. I keep trying. Do I really want him, or is this a challenge that keeps me sharp? Is it a game like Norrington implied or do I want more than his body? Do I actually care to win his affection? Well. I sure liked him being nice and considerate. I sure want him to get bloody naughty with me as well. He settled in the earthy swale and started humming a cheery song. A pirate's song. Aye. I'll keep trying. 'Cos it pleases me.
*****
In a much better mood than an hour ago James walked back to the cave. There the filthy pirate is waiting for me. Strangely the thought made him smile as well as nervous with anticipation. The catch of the day was dangling in his hand. The fishing had been good for clearing his head, not to think at all. Though now he was once again thinking about Sparrow. He had left the pirate lying hurt and defenceless in the cave. He snorted. Come on. Don't think that. He is not defenceless. He never will be. He is unpredictable, dangerous and... and he was having a hard-on, and I haven't even touched his dick. So what? He is playing me. He enjoys the challenge. He wants to fool me, humiliate me, break me even. I can never trust him. He is and always will be a pirate. A filthy outlaw with impertinent eyes, who wallows in vice, and likes to impose himself.
Yet James couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to kiss Sparrow, instead of being kissed by him. Taking those perky lips, taking him without permission, right there at the waterline. Would Sparrow for once in his life knuckle down? Surrender to his mercy? Would the kiss feel victorious or rather delightful? He jerked to a halt. Stop this! Don't you understand that the pirate would play this game with anyone who were stranded here with him? Such as Elizabeth or Will Turner. You are nobody he fancies in particular. So stop thinking about how it feels to make out with such a man. Get rid of these evil cravings. Keep your tail up! Don't mind his advances or the sweet tingle coursing-
What the hell? His attention was drawn to a quite different beast. He smelled smoke. Damn. What now? He skipped into a sprint. Seeing the smoke was near the location of the cave, he called out for Sparrow. His concern was terminated though by the scene presenting itself seconds later.
A perfectly happy looking Sparrow sitting at a fire in front of the cave. "I see ye found me spear. Did ye catch something? I already prepared the fire for cooking."
James couldn't believe the nerve of that lunatic. "What in God's Name? Are you out of your mind?! You got up and walked around gathering wood?"
"Ye're welcome, mate."
James shot the caught fish into Sparrow's arms. "There. You can walk around, you can cook."
"Me pleasure, luv."
James opened his mouth to snarl at him for calling him love again. He reconsidered though, was pacing up and down instead, aware of the pirate's amusement. When he had cooled off a bit, he sat down and stared into the fire. That was a mistake. The sight of the crackling flames riled him up again. He kicked two pebbles into the fire.
"What's wrong, mate?"
"You were playing me. You were not half as badly injured as you were pretending to be."
"Not true. I'm bad, but I'm not that bad. I'm truly injured but I'm a pirate. Often in me life I've been injured much worse. It isn't that easy to weaken me, or even to kill me."
"I will remember that," James muttered, scratching at a mosquito bite on his left foot.
"Besides, ye took good care of me."
James grimaced. "That won't happen again." The smell of the fish sizzling over the fire, assailed his nose though, and made his mouth water. Delighted by the thought of getting something to eat, he dropped the matter. The pirate wasn't worth the trouble anyway.
They ate in silence. James appreciated the peace, enjoying every bite. Well. The truce didn't last long.
Finished eating and licking each of his dirty fingers Sparrow heaved himself up.
James frowned. "Where are you going?"
"Fishing. I'm still hungry."
"You are mad, aren't you? You are in no shape for fishing."
"Not yer concern. I can provide me own food. I don't like to be at yer mercy."
James jumped to his feet. "Damn! Your injury will start bleeding again. What have I wasted my only shirt for?"
"I never asked ye to waste it!" Sparrow barked at him and turned around to walk away.
"You stay right here." James grabbed him by the shoulder.
The pirate whirled around and punched him against the chest.
James punched back and then they struggled to get the upper hand. Though having only one good leg, Sparrow lost the fight on the spot. He dropped to the ground and dragged James down with him. James was falling right onto him to boot, making the pirate cry out in pain. "Blimey! Ye're crushing me leg..."
James couldn't care less. He was livid. "Shut up! You won't go anywhere." He grasped Sparrow's hands and pinned them to the ground. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Inescapably clear." The pirate's face was only inches away. An odd joy brightened his tanned features. "I have ye now, Commodore. I have ye where I've wanted ye right from the start."
"Stop this. You will never get me to... to..."
Sparrow licked his lips. "...fuck ye."
James held his breath, and all his muscles hardened, as he got lost in the mysterious black eyes of his enemy. "I mean it," he exhaled. "You will never... We will never..." The sensation of Sparrow's lean and warm body though, took its toll.
The pirate remained under him, unmoving, not blinking and least of all smiling. None of the trademark smirks, mocking gestures, or smooth-tongued words. Just the hard-on snaking along the inside of James' thigh gave away his cravings and motives.
He wants me. He is waiting for me to attack. Is this for real or just a trick to stab me in the back? James trembled, unsure of what to do. He was torn between desperate longing and rational thinking. Get out of here. Remember who you are. You can never get involved with a pirate. He clenched his jaw and shifted, and the hardness in Sparrow's breeches twitched. Damn! Take him. Take him now. He wants to be ravished. What are you waiting for? Do it!
"Well then!" The pirate was done being still. "Let me up, Commodore. I'll always remember this as the day that ye almost-"
James crushed his lips down on Sparrow's mocking mouth. Shutting him up in the most effective way. A kiss as brutal and rough as an assault, lacking any finesse.
Yet Sparrow accepted the attack all-out, even returned the kiss equally hungry.
Spicy sweetness swept into James' mouth, a delicious taste that inflamed him even more. Hence he bruised the pirate's lips deeper, claiming them relentlessly, shoving his tongue through the cheeky lips. Slick hotness captivated him, seducing him to linger on. The pirate's tongue joined in, pleading and demanding, and the scaring need to sink his cock deep inside him drove James to ravish that mouth plenty more.
Sparrow sprawled out willingly, giving away choked groans, though he kept writhing under him, trying to free his hands from his grip.
James didn't give him an inch but pinned those sneaky hands down. This is my turn. I am in charge.
"Mm." The pirate arched up, rubbing his groin against James' growing hardness.
The aching urge to fuck the pirate into the ground steamrolled James. He had never felt this aroused and wicked in his bloody life. I still need to breathe, damn it. He broke the kiss, gasping.
Sparrow was gasping too. "Ye feel so good in me mouth. Give me more, Commodore, give it to the pirate."
James' last control snapped. He captured that malicious tongue once more and struck it with all the anger and desire he had suppressed for so long. Though his kisses softened against his will, and when he pushed along sucking at Sparrow's neck, he had lost himself in a frenzy of craving that was hardly laced with any anger anymore. Sod it! He wanted to taste the pirate and hear him beg again. He yearned to make him scream. Right. Call the shots.
Sparrow wasn't shy himself, was nibbling at his earlobe, and wriggling his hips. "Ye and me," he moaned, sticking that naughty tongue of him in James' ear, exploring the sensitive shell. "I always knew."
Those words struck James like a breaker. He rolled off his enemy and stumbled to his feet. He had sobered up, though he couldn't ignore the aching swelling of his cock or the delightful prickling of his skin. He couldn't deny he had wanted this as much as his enemy. Indeed. He had allowed himself to get dragged down to the pirate's level. I am as despicable as he is.
Disappointment clouded Sparrow's face briefly but then his expression changed to smugness. He stayed down, lolling nonchalantly. "Well, well, well, me dear Commodore. I'm not that filthy after all, eh? Kissing yer enemy like that. Who would have ever suspected what ye're capable of?"
The mocking words ripped into his heart. Shamed to the core James stumbled backwards. Get away. As far away as possible. Hide if necessary.
"I didn't mean that. Savvy? Please don't run away, luv. Listen, James..." Sparrow reached out to him, the long fingers were baiting him to join the pirate once more in horny playfulness. "...Jem. May I call ye Jem?"
"You... you..." he choked out, horrified. He took a few more steps backwards, almost falling across a root.
"Eh? What did I say?"
James turned and fled. He didn't stop running, until he reached one end of the island. The sun was hiding behind a cluster of low clouds spreading across the horizon, the sea was churning, and the wind was picking up speed. He squatted on a patch of withered grass. Jem. He called me Jem. Nobody ever called me by that name - not even my mother. Only Tommy. Oh God. Tommy. How could I forget you? It is his fault, that bloody pirate's. He made me... Oh Tommy, beloved, what will I do? He has made me forget about all the things I worked so hard to believe in. He has made me remember all the things I tried to forget, he has made me remember you. Sometimes it feels like an eternity has passed since I have lost you. My friend. My lover. Forever lost to the sea. James buried his face in his hands. I miss you Tommy. I loved you very much. One dry sob escaped his throat, though he swallowed his tears and kept himself from crying. Such weakness wouldn't help him. Neither the cursing of Jack Sparrow's name for the thousandth time. Not to beat this ardent longing, least of all to put the blame on Sparrow. Simply because this wasn't the bloody pirate's fault.
That's right. The only one I have to blame is myself. I lost my focus, was sailing off course, and now I am... Stranded. He shuddered in the stiff breeze blowing on his naked torso, well aware that he was in danger to give Sparrow more than the shirt of his back. That man is able to make me forget my education and my position in society. A man who is in no way suitable to be anybody's lover. A man who makes me surrender unarmed.
My enemy.
*****
Jack was on the ropes, his whole body was burning with heat, his head was pounding and the wound on his leg itched terribly. The bandage, made of Norrington's shirt, was clotted with dried blood. He rolled and skidded around in the swale he had settled in hours ago staring at the stony walls of the cave. He knew he had a fever. That wasn't good, nay, as well as the storm that was coming. That Norrington hadn't come back yet worried him the most. He shouldn't be out there strolling around the island, or whatever he was doing with a storm approaching. The cave was the one place to be safe. He certainly knew why Norrington stayed away. He doesn't want to be around me. He's avoiding me because we kissed. Nay, because he kissed me. He shuddered, though rather from his fever than from pleasure. He put a hand on his forehead, feeling how hot it was. The wound must be infected. Bloody stupid to get ill. Aye. I'll get gangrene and die.
The storm was raising; the wind was flogging the palm-trees. A familiar sound he usually didn't mind but today wasn't a usual day, eh?
At least I'm safe here. Aye. Safe but sick. And alone. Shivering, he rolled on his left side, turning his back to the entrance of the cave. He pulled his knees to his body, though that hurt, trying to warm up, but without a fire or another body close to him it was a futile act. He cursed the isle, the bloody shark, and Norrington. I wouldn't be here without him. Aye. I was stupid to jump after him when he was flung overboard. Bloody hell. I don't want to die here, stranded and alone. I always wanted to die on a ship. Me ship, the 'Black Pearl'; cruising the ocean with her, sailing under the Caribbean sun. Aye. Warm winds in me face, salt in me hair, and wood under me feet. That's the proper place for a pirate to die. Not here, in this dark, rotten, stinking cave. He pulled his knees closer; even though it was useless. He would never get better, not without help.
"Still horny, pirate?"
Blimey! He came back. Jack turned his head to look at the only companion he had on this god-forsaken island. "No, I'm sick."
"Sure! A likely story!"
"I am. Savvy? I'm glad ye're back."
"I told you to go easy on that leg," Norrington said, wearing a remorseless expression.
Not in any shape to start another dispute, Jack relied on his persuasive skills. "Still mad at me? Please, J... Norrington. I'm not playing ye. I'm honestly sick. I think it's because of that damn shark bite."
"As well as walking around gathering wood." Norrington's eyes were as green as a storm-troubled sea.
"Aye. But what's done is done, eh?" He tried to sit up. He couldn't.
Norrington's face softened and he lowered down to touch Jack's forehead. "Well, you are definitely hot. It could be gangrene. Let me see." He lowered further down and put his face close to Jack's injured thigh to take a sniff.
Shiver me timbers! Jack held his breath. Norrington didn't stop to surprise him.
His enemy rose. "It smells too clean to be gangrene. Probably a sunstroke considering your roaming on the island."
"Aye." Another shudder ran through his body. "I deserve this, eh?"
For a few seconds Norrington eyed him, his face reflected his conflicting emotions. Then he sighed, as if he had come to a crucial decision, and laid down right next to Jack. "Keep quiet and get some rest." He wrapped his arm around Jack and pulled him close.
Snuggled against the officer's bare chest, Jack was feeling a bit choked up. "Commodore, this is..."
"Shut up. Don't make me change my mind."
"Savvy... luv," Jack murmured meekly. Inhaling the cool scent of his enemy, and touching his smooth skin, his feverish unease became less and less with every breath he took. Norrington smelled as refreshing as the storm roaring around the cave. His steady heartbeat was putting Jack's mind to rest and he drifted off to joyful images and sensations.
The ocean, wide and endless. The horizon, waiting for him. The sun, golden and rising. The wind brushing his hair. The spray of the sea, wetting his face. The smell of salt and spices, the Caribbean in all its beauty.
Missing these joys of his life he gave in to the one thing that was left, right here, right now. The warmth of Norrington's arms. The enemy, who was holding him, as if he cared. Wallowing in that blissful thought Jack fell asleep, snoring softly.
The storm roared on and on, but neither of the two men was worried about its rage.
*****
Streaming sunlight was beaming into the cave when Jack opened his eyes. He was feeling much better. Still captured in the tight embrace of Commodore Norrington his senses came alive. The warm skin and arousing scent of his guardian made him eager to examine the body that was so close and made him feel so much.
Aye. The opportune moment was here.
He lifted his head to look into Norrington's face. Still asleep. Good. No worries then. Just with his fingertips he caressed Norrington's chest, then the taut belly. For a soldier of the British Navy, me dear Commodore, ye have pretty soft skin.
A sigh escaped Norrington's mouth. He twitched.
Jack froze in motion. Wait. Don't hurry. Don't wake the beast.
Norrington shifted once more but only to pull him closer.
Eh? Lo and behold! Jack relaxed and dared to put his hand back. Not satisfied with only touching the chest and belly his course took him further south. Exhilarated he nestled on the laces of Norrington's breeches. He'll kill ye. Don't go on. He couldn't resist though. He was feeling hot again but not from a fever. He snaked his hand inside, getting a grip on Norrington's half-hard cock. Mm. Nice indeed.
One more sigh slipped past Norrington's lips and then he slurred something.
Ready to discover one longed-for treasure, Jack caressed the cock with firm strokes, in attention for his enemy to wake up. Though he was gifted with more pleased moaning instead. Encouraged he rubbed the cock faster and was even more surprised by hearing a name.
"Tommy."
Jack stopped. Blimey! Me dear Jem, once ye had someone in yer life. Someone nothing like the luvly Elizabeth. Someone who still sweetens yer dreams. He pursued the coddling and was rewarded with a yet more intense reaction. Norrington bucked his hips.
Ho! Matey, aren't ye a man filled with secrets? The mysterious Tommy was yer lover, eh, could be, he still is. Aye, I'm not yer first. He slipped from Norrington's comforting arm and settled on his enemy's right leg. In that position he tightened his grip around Norrington's shaft, his fingertips measured the booty. Pretty good sized. Inside of me, he would feel incredible. Aye. He clicked his tongue about having such unfulfilled desires, and moistened his lips. He bent down then, to flicker the tip of his tongue around the cock's head. That he dared to taste his enemy's flavour gave him the sweetest kick, and he felt his erection jerk against Norrington's thigh.
Norrington whimpered and twitched under Jack's soft thrusts. The Commodore was still asleep though.
"Dreaming about Tommy, eh?" Jack puffed and blew. A fat lot I care! He went back to take care of Norrington's delightful cock, swallowed the whole length, bobbing up and down. Mm. Spicy as well as rich. Aye. Get the bloody treasure.
Norrington slurred and wriggled some more, though his breathing had changed.
Jack knew his enemy was awake. Awake and dangerous. His mouth chock-full, he lifted his eyes to challenge Norrington's ocean eyes. Easy now. Don't sweat it! He let the shaft slid out of his mouth, prepared to take stick, though Norrington did nothing, except staring at him.
Jack licked his lips. "Do ye want me to stop? Say so, and I will."
No reply.
Jack fixed his gaze on Norrington but went back to sucking him passionately.
A shudder ran through Norrington's body. He clenched his fists and worked his jaw.
"Do ye want me to go on? Say so," Jack said, rejoicing in his enemy's fight for control.
Norrington kept silent.
Well then. I won't beg. Jack stopped the sucking. "I think I'm finished here."
"Don't." A raspy sound.
"Aye?" Jack said, teasing the twitching shaft with the tips of his fingers.
"Don't stop." Just a whisper.
Jack shifted on Norrington's leg, savouring the lush feeling of his lusting cock. "If ye say so, I won't." He lowered his eyes and dragged his tongue up and down the line of the hard shaft. Slow and easy. Hearing Norrington whimper, and feeling how close his companion was to reach his climax, Jack left the focus of desire to caress the balls instead.
"What the... you..." Norrington lamented, gripping Jack's shoulders.
"Hush. I have command." He ate up Norrington's balls, was lapping at the sensitive skin, until Norrington swore and bucked his hips. "That needy, eh?" Jack smirked and went back to the main deck. His deep-throating of the tasty shaft was rewarded with the most uncommon sounds from his enemy. Juicy sounds that went straight to his cock.
Norrington dug his nails into Jack's shoulders and pushed his cock deeper in his mouth, increasing the pace.
Jack welcomed him, adapting to the faster movements, smacking his lips around the strapping cock. Norrington fucked his mouth in jerky motions and Jack had to give up control. Blimey! He just couldn't keep up with the officer's pace anymore.
Forceful, Norrington shoved his shaft down Jack's throat, making him almost drop off the shaking and twitching leg. Bloody hell! Jack spilled his load into his breeches. His surprising climax was yet sweetened by Norrington's cry and the cum squirting down his throat. Jack swallowed the creamy essence with pleasure, also licking every drop off his lips. He then kept the softened cock in his mouth, nibbling at the edges. Stalling for time, old boy? Not ready to destroy the mood. Not ready to get back into fighting. As well as hoping to get the same treatment in return, eh?
Just then Norrington nudged him. The signal to let go. Breathless and agitated, Jack got to his feet. How are we now, luv? What would ye like to do next, eh? I'd fancy a fuck.
Norrington got up and put his breeches in order. That took him longer than necessary. At last he couldn't avoid looking at Jack anymore. His eyes were misty with desire. He cleared his throat. "Say one word and I will cut your wounded leg off and feed it to the fish."
Not happening, eh? Jack lifted both eyebrows, though he kept his mouth shut.
Norrington spun around and left the cave.
Slowed down by his injured leg, Jack followed him as fast as he could. He's mad again. Not at me though, at himself. For giving in to his needs, for giving in to me. Me, the pirate. I tasted him in me mouth and on me tongue. The flavour of the man who wants to see me hang. Could ye still send me to the gallows, if ye have the chance, Jem? After everything that has happened between us. I know it would be terrible for me, if I have to kill ye to save meself. "Enough," he muttered. "Enjoy the moment. This is a good day. Ye and Norrington are flourishing." Aye. He made me come without touching me. Blimey! That Brit excels any pirate. He started singing and didn't stop until he reached the sunny beach.
Norrington was splashing around in the water, freshening up.
Worn out by the fever and the satisfying treat for his mate and himself, Jack sat down in the shadows of the palm-trees, enjoying the sight. Norrington appeared to be a different man without his wig, uniform and at that half-naked. Jack gloried in the uniqueness of the moment and dreaded the end of the illusion. Aye. That's all this is. Yarn spinning for the old days. One of the stories no one is ever going to believe.
Norrington waded out and lay down beside him, showing off his back.
Jaw-dropping close. Do ye want to play, dear Commodore? Do ye like this game we started? Ye're messing with the best. Captain Jack Sparrow. He rolled onto Norrington's back, pressing himself to the delicious wet skin.
Norrington didn't complain nor did he throw him off, though the muscles at the base of his neck tensed.
Jack kissed those muscles, eager to soften the tension. At the same time he ran his fingers through his enemy's damp hair. "Say stop and I will."
"Stop." Norrington did nothing to fight him off though, was indeed sprawling.
Blighter. Are ye teasing me? Are ye ready for more? He turned cheeky and sucked at Norrington's neck, making him shift and sigh. "I'll mark ye with me monkey bite. Everyone will know whose Commodore ye are."
Norrington jerked up and threw him off his back.
Jack landed on his wounded leg and cried out.
Norrington's eyes glowed like brilliant emeralds. "You filthy son of a....,"
Though he was on the ground Jack glared at him. Don't ye dare!
"..." Norrington wavered and swallowed the nasty insult. "I am not yours. I will be never yours. Understood?"
Jack's curiosity was on fire. "Are ye Tommy's?"
Norrington gasped. "What the hell?! How do you... No, I am not."
"Ye were dreaming of him, whispering the name. I could feel insulted, aye, no man, who ever got sucked by me, was dreaming of another man."
"I would bet we are talking about an endless number of men."
The bitter tone in Norrington's voice added up to Jack's curiosity. He wouldn't chase that matter right now though. He could wait for the opportune moment. "Is Tommy dead?"
Norrington pressed his lips together. He treaded the sand.
Jack waited.
"Yes, he is. Happy now?"
"I'm sorry. Did ye luv him?"
"Leave me alone." Norrington turned away from him.
Aye. He was once more running away. Jack jumped to his feet, ignoring the raw pain in his leg. "Jem!"
Norrington spun around. "Don't call me by that name."
Ah. That must have been Tommy's privilege. "Savvy. Well, James. I know, ye want me."
"No, I don't. You are my enemy," Norrington replied in a tired voice. The fierce emotion he had showed only a minute ago was gone.
"Ye forgot to call me a filthy pirate," Jack taunted, though he was dead serious. "Whatever. Ye want me. I know this since the first day we met because I want ye too."
"That doesn't matter. You will never fuck me."
"Aye. I would never dream of fucking ye."
Norrington stopped treading the sand. He looked stumped. "What do you want then?"
"I dream of ye fucking me," Jack purred, tilting his head in a seductive way.
Norrington blushed.
That touched him to the quick. Be gentle now and ye'll get the goods.
"It isn't right. We are..."
"Please," Jack begged, flashing on his most disarming smile.
Norrington's stare broke away and was drawn to the horizon. He squinted.
What now? A new manoeuvre to brush me off?
Norrington pointed at the ocean. "A ship!"
Jack jerked his head around. "What ship?!"
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chart the course |
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