 |
|
|
|
|
Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: R
Pairing: Will/Jack/Norrington. Part of larger series with permutations of Will/Jack/Norrington/Elizabeth/Anamaria.
Fandom: PotC
Feedback: Much beloved.
Disclaimer: Not mine at all. Never mine, unfortunately.
Summary: Stupid, pointless humor fic bit in the Game-verse. For the contrelamontre 'interjection' challenge; done in 45 minutes.
***
"Hell. That's the summary; now we just need a conclusion," Will said morosely, regarding the locked door.
"Rum."
"Jack, that's not an answ-mmph!" Twisting sideways, James glared over the hand that had just smacked over his mouth. Refusing to back down, Will stared back. "Sorry," the other man said, "But in this case, I'll have to agree. Where's the funnel and plastic tubing?"
"Will, y're not in college," Jack muttered, rummaging around in the fridge. "Don' need th'fancy 'cessories; we all know y'can' hold liquor worth a-" he caught sight of the youngest man's glower and hastily corrected himself. "We're all friends here. Don' need t'stand on ceremony."
"If you weren't holding the alcohol, I think I'd have to hurt you," Will growled, taking the proffered bottle from Jack and flipping off the cap, then slugging down half of it. "God. Elizabeth is bad, but both of them at once?"
"Always keep your eyes on th'bright glimmer," Jack replied, handing more rum and a few hotel-size bottles of vodka to James. "'Least, we got Anamaria's knives away from 'er. An' there's more'n one bathroom."
"I still think you're both overreacting," James interrupted, amused and irritated. "It's a perfectly normal bodily process, and you've both lived through the experience before."
Will gazed disbelievingly at the other Brit, and then turned to Jack. "He even-even has-had a mother?"
"Yes, I did," James answered stiffly. At the sound of the older man's voice, Will whirled back, rum sloshing as he stumbled into James. "Really?" he giggled.
Sighing, Jack set down his own liquor and checked James' watch. "Three minutes an' seven seconds. New record."
"It's more than probable that he started before we came back," James remarked, nose wrinkling at the fumes rushing up from the man flopping in his arms. He sniffed delicately. "Beer and…more beer."
"Bad brand," Jack observed, leaning in for his own whuff. Too far in. Will promptly squirted out of James' grip onto Sparrow, sending all three men onto the floor. Luckily, the carpet was thick enough to keep the bottles from breaking. "Turner-"
"William-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Will slurred, head buried in Jack's shirt about as deep as his hands were buried down James' waistband. "Bastards, both o'you. Gone huntin' bad guys, an' leavin' me with Liz an' Ana. Owe me."
"Damn it, Will," James gasped, trying unsuccessfully to claw away, "It's a matter of bad timing! A coincidence, which if we'd known abo-" his voice cracked into a whine as hot, deft fingers wrapped around his cock. Will's other hand burrowed into the curves of Jack's ass, provoking a string of curses.
"Can count, can't you?" the other Brit snapped, diction momentarily crisp again. He took a thoughtful suck at Jack's neck, cutting short an incipient protest, and then mumbled, "Norrie an' Birdie, always out once a month. An' Will Turner, nice guy, always in. Well, you can do th'buyin', dammit." To the great distress of the other two men, he suddenly stopped, scowling down. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to buy-that-that stuff for the girls? An' it's always in pastels, an' th'clerk's always lookin' at me funny, an' it's always, always the wrong bloody brand!" he ranted.
"Very, very sorry," Jack apologized quickly, wriggling desperately. "Won' be doin' it again. Promise."
"On the Pearl," Will demanded implacably. He turned to Norrington. "An' you-on your honor." He accompanied his words with a quick flick of his wrists.
"Swear on her planks," Jack agreed, groaning. Beside him, James nodded frantically, too busy swallowing air to vow properly. Will grinned lopsidedly, and bent back down. "S'better," he answered. And the three men writhed happily together for a few minutes, before Will once more ripped himself away.
"Now what?" James groaned. Smile even wider than before, Will slapped the nearest thigh that wasn't his own. "Time to pass 'em th'painkillers," he informed his two companions. In bone-chilling agreement, a distinctly feminine yell reverberated through the house.
"We're out o' pills again! Merde!"
***