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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: NC-17. Wall scene-thing that I promised fabu and bondage.
Pairing: Jack/Will/James. Ref. to Will/Elizabeth.
Feedback: Fave lines, errors I've made, where your mind snapped, etc.
Disclaimer: Not mine, for some odd reason.
Notes: Not intended to be historically accurate.
Summary: Devising a fair sharing arrangement is much more difficult than it seems.
***
Will estimated that he had been staring at the plastered ceiling for about a half-hour. His legs were beginning to cramp rather badly, and he was dying to stretch them out, but he didn't want to wake James, who was a fairly light sleeper. The bane of all good workingmen, rising with the sun. Even his months on the Pearl living the unstructured life of a pirate hadn't managed to break that particular habit.
His knee twitched in warning, making Will shoot up and grab it before the tendons completely spasmed. And then he noticed the blankets that he had torn away in his mad rush, and dropped his head with a groan. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"
"No." James' rumpled head appeared next to Will, a faint trace of embarrassment detectable in the weak light. "Actually…I've been awake for quite some time."
Oh. Really. Well, now that Will actually thought about it, James would be used to waking up at ungodly hours to attend to his duties. And he was the type of man to not slack off, even on Saturday mornings. Will studied his clasped fingers as the corners of his mouth tugged into a rueful smile. "I'm an idiot. Sorry."
Arms slipped around his waist, the body heat quickly seeping through the nightshirt's thin material, and James' mouth ghosted over the back of Will's neck. He shivered and let go of his now-relaxed knee in favor of covering the other man's hands with his own. "Hardly, I think," James whispered to him. "Though you certainly should use your common sense more often."
Will winced and, slightly irked, poked at the fingers rubbing over his stomach. "Look, it was the only way José was going to let you go without him losing honor and Jack losing a friend. And I went into that fight with every intention of coming out alive, and furthermore, you are the last person who should be lecturing me on misplaced chivalry-James?"
Laughter in his hair, warm puffs of air dividing themselves on his neck. James was shaking against him, squeezing him with every chuckle, and Will grudgingly let his smile return.
"All right, all right. We agree that the pot should not mock the kettle." The other man nuzzled into the side of Will's face as he spoke, his hands suddenly moving with distinct purpose. Then they slowed, drifting under the blankets to trace the lines of Will's inner thighs. "Did you have this problem with Jack?"
An idle enough question, but something about it put a small chill up Will's back. Just a small one, which might be chalked up to the early-hour cold air. "No," he answered casually, leaning back into the other man. "Jack is like a cat, really: he sleeps when he pleases, as much as he pleases."
"Where he pleases?"
Damn, damn, damn. Even a rock could catch the biting-jealous?-criticism in those words. It was entirely too early in the day for this sort of thing, and anyway, what on earth had brought this change in James?
"No," Will stalled while he hastily reviewed the rest of their conversation. Sleeping patterns, his occasional lapse of thought, concern over-James didn't seem like the possessive type, but people did have odd reactions to traumatic events. Which brought up a lingering ghost of bitterness to the forefront of Will's mind as he stiffened. "No. He doesn't do that, and I don't know why you would think that he would. Or that I would put up with that. I do not leap from bed to bed."
The arms tightened around Will, and the hands hesitantly picked up his own. "I know," James replied in a soft, straining voice. "I apologize for any insinuation I might have made. Whatever place you choose is entirely your decision."
"God, James…" Will gazed through the strands hanging in front of his face, barring over the sunbeams that were trickling through the curtains. Damn it, but nothing he said right now was coming out as he meant it to. "It isn't a choice. You and Jack-there isn't a decision to be made, all right? I'll take both of you as long as you let me."
He knew that wasn't going to be enough as soon as the words hung themselves on the still air, so he quickly turned and kissed James fiercely, trying to imprint his meaning into the other man in that manner. After a moment, his gesture was returned. With increasing fervor that soon had Will on his back, clothing tossed to the four winds and cries desperately muffling themselves in his fist.
Later, when the sunlight had nearly stretched itself to the other side of the room, they laid on their sides and simply shared breath for a long time before Will reluctantly dragged himself back into decent dress. "I should go. I'm already late for the forge, and your servants will be in soon. Your housekeeper…well, she doesn't frighten me, but there is this odd little glint whenever she tries to feed me something. And she's constantly trying to get me to eat…I don't look starved, do I?"
"No." James' amused smile fled as he slowly readied himself to see Will down the back passages. "Feeding...suffering young men is a kind of hobby of hers. She means well."
"Oh, I don't refuse-the food is wonderful. I was simply curious." Will put an extra emphasis on the last word; he was sure the servants had to know, given the way they looked at him, but luckily, all of them seemed to be devoted to James. In fact, they acted as if they secretly approved of the relationship and encouraged Will to come back whenever possible. Which was odd. He wondered what James might have told them to explain his frequent visits, but had never quite managed to ask.
"So what are your plans for the day?" James inquired politely as he straightened an invisible wrinkle in Will's shirt. His fingertips were soft and warm and too, too tempting, but Will was already going to have to run in order to avoid being noticed by the early-birds going to market as he left James' house. It was a bit like when he used to sneak up to Elizabeth's window for a chat and then had to dodge her grenadier of a nurse.
"I'm done with the blade, so today I'd intended to finish the hilt." Which involved borrowing quite a bit of equipment from the goldsmith, as the forge didn't normally handle that kind of detail work. Will, however, had met and talked with a few other swordsmiths during the course of his jaunt with Jack, and he had some ideas.
Mentally plotting out his course of action kept him from noticing the odd quiet from James until they had nearly reached the last door. And then he looked up for his farewell kiss. "What's wrong?"
***
A difficult question to admit to, let alone answer. James put a hand to the doorframe and glared out at the mercilessly rising sun as he struggled for the right arrangement of words. But Will was waiting, unconsciously shifting from foot to foot as he bit his lip, and everything tumbled out. "You said you were coming back to make yourself a sword. That's what you told Jack when he asked when he should return."
The jealousy coiled back and sank teeth into James' tongue before he had finished speaking, but he couldn't help it. Jack had the sea, the Pearl, adventure and treasure to offer Will; he had skulking around back alleys and quick, innocuous conversations in his office while Gillette sniffed impatiently in the next room. And he had to sit and wait in one place, not knowing whether Will was well or impaled on a sword or sleeping on the bottom of the ocean, while Jack could slip into Port Royal whenever he very well pleased in order to check up on Will.
Whose face shaded from surprised to stricken to angry in the space of a heartbeat. "I never mentioned the word "leaving" in that conversation-you should know, you were there. And I should hope that you don't believe I would go without talking to you about it. If only for politeness' sake."
With that sharp retort, Will spun on his heel and was out the gate before James could collect enough of himself to apologize. And before he could go running after the other man, sounds in the corridor behind marked the approaching bustle of the servants. Cursing at himself, he hastily retreated back to his bed chamber and hoped that Will still showed up for dinner.
Eight hours later, James was fervently praying that Will would keep to their date and give him an excuse to leave the fort. Normally, he spent Saturday out at the ships, or attending to inspections, but due to a confluence of several events, most of the men were stationed elsewhere for the weekend. So instead, he had gone into his office to catch up on paperwork. Unfortunately, so had Groves and Gillette with the discovery of some odd discrepancies in the account books, the curse of every military man since Julius Caesar. The numbers could not be chalked up to either addition mistake or everyday pilfering, but instead pointed toward embezzling by one of the officers. Which brought James an entirely new set of headaches that grew in proportion to the increasing loveliness of the day, and the shortening of Gillette's temper as he and Groves argued.
As was typical of him, Gillette refused to believe that an officer would dare do such a thing and muttered things about the rankers, while Groves constantly referred to the evidence at hand to support the opposite stance. In point of fact, James agreed with the second man, but the offending officer had locally powerful relatives, a detail whose implications Groves did not quite seem to grasp. "Gentlemen, I would like to retain at least the semblance of civility. If you please."
Both men flinched and flushed, staring at their hands. "My apologies," Groves offered Gillette in a stiff, forced tone before turning to James. "But what is our course of action going to be?"
"At the present time we can do little, given that Quartermaster Hill will not be back in Port Royal for another two weeks," James reminded them in a dry tone. He shuffled the papers together and sealed them into a file, which he then locked safely away. "Gillette, the proof is clear. But Groves-" cutting off any jubilant gloating "-the influence of his uncle is not to be trifled with, unfortunately. Jarvis is a rational man, so it would behoove us to consult with him about his nephew's character. While neither of you say anything of this matter to anyone else."
"Yes, sir," Groves and Gillette grudgingly but sincerely muttered.
The throb in the back of James' head receded. A little. "Thank you, gentlemen. Enjoy your Sunday, and I will see you on Monday."
Ushering them out without undue haste took another fifteen minutes of jaw-straining niceties, but James clenched his jaw and did it. Then he slumped against the wall, laying forehead to cool stone.
"Y'look a sight, mate." Wary voice. Jack's form slowly emerged from the darkened hallway, like a tropical bird creeping near an orchard tree. "No hat, ink on y'r cuffs…wig's not even straight."
"Sparrow." James straightened so he could put his superior height to advantage, though it didn't seem to affect Jack's spirits. "You're early."
"Well, I got t'lackin' a scold by m'side, so I came t'check on Will." Gilt flash and hand pattering at James' shoulder. "Make sure y'aren' teachin' him any bad habits."
Irate and showing it, James grabbed the hand and began to haul Jack down one of the less traveled corridors. "I could hardly do worse than you. Coming into the fort-have you absolutely no sense? Though an affirmative wouldn't surprise me-"
Jack yanked back, bringing them to a sharp halt and nearly causing James to stumble into a door. The pirate had a surprising amount of strength lurking within his small frame. "An' would y'be goin' back on y'r word? I thought that we had an accord. Trade an' war an' all that."
"Yes, we do, and yes, you have been harrying the Spanish shipping. Yes, your cargoes have profited the merchants of Port Royal. But damn it, Jack, they remember the ship, not you." James wrenched his arm free and tugged at his wig in an attempt to reset it. He pulled too hard, however, and the wretched thing came completely off so strands of hair fell into his eyes. Too long-he needed a haircut. "The Black Pearl spent nine years under Barbossa terrorizing the Caribbean, and that's what people think of. That's the horror with which most of my soldiers are familiar."
Jack's rings rolled along the wall till they were level with James' arm. Then Jack swayed in and poked at one of the buttons on James' uniform. "Did notice that. But it's Saturday, mate, an' anyway, that doesn' address th'question of why you y'rself don' seem too happy t'see me. I'm…early. Early." Jack tried out different inflections on the word. "Earrrliiie. Y'make it sound like a crime."
"With you, it most likely is." James gave up on the wig and combed through his hair as best he could. There was still time to make a quick stop to his house and change into civilian clothing. "You'll excuse me for not believing that your sole business for coming here is to see Will."
"An' why couldn' it be?" Jack pressed, blocking the way. When James tried to pass on the left, the infuriating man sashayed left. When he tried right, Jack tilted right. "Commodore, y'seem slightly…unlike y'rself."
The headache blanched out everything with blinding, angry agony. "Why? Because I can't take for granted that a "good man" will have the decency and sense to leave things as he found them? Because I can't simply accept your word as a gentleman? Because I know that-"
"-appearances an' pasts don' dictate th'present?" Jack snapped, steel suddenly barring the backs of his eyes. He pushed, hard, at James' shoulder and kept pushing until James was pinned up against the wall. His nails were pricking through the coat, the shirt. Shocking James back to himself. "Damn you, what're y'talkin' of? Or is it who?"
And looking into those indignant eyes, staring at the flaking edge of the kohl smears, James abruptly knew that Jack was, as he'd said, only here to see Will. That Jack had survived to a rather advanced age for a pirate, and that he would not risk losing the Pearl again if he could help it. That in fact, Jack was not Hill. Though James was beginning to suspect that he himself had more in common with the sticky-fingered quartermaster. "Nothing," he muttered, sinking back into the rough cold wall. "Nothing that actually concerns you."
"Is that how it is?"
Jack dropped to his knees before the sentence had quite finished coming out of his mouth, so the last word jerked itself thin as James' breath when air tingled over his skin. He hadn't noticed his clothing being undone. Only hands of old gold planting themselves on his thighs. Only the soft slide and rustle of bead-strung hair shifting with Jack's movements. Only-
--"God, God, oh, God, what are you-you can't-here!"
***
Jack was doing it here if he pleased, and he damn well did. After all the honorable commodore's insinuations, it was either anger Will with Norrington-in-pieces, or…other methods. Anyway, James would be more likely to open up into an actual discussion after proper application of this one.
Slow and tight and soft when that was least expected. James' hips bucked forward with a desperation that boded rather well for cutting loose this gentleman's corset. "Jack…"
Who shoved the hips back with one hand while getting his sash loose with the other. As expected, James didn't seem to like the teasing licks and made a grab for Jack's hair. Of course, that ended in the previously half-dressed and groaning James becoming a half-dressed, groaning and bound James. The other man's eyes glittered with lively antagonism as he twisted and strained at the sash holding his wrists behind his back, which made Jack chuckle low in his throat. Subsequently vibrating the lovely-really, Jack wouldn't lie or flatter about something like that-cock filling his mouth. James stopped struggling and slumped heavily against the wall.
Without the distraction of hands directing him around, Jack was free to indulge in experimentation. A finger trailed behind the balls, he soon discovered, garnered him a shudder and constricted pupils. Slipping it back and just a bit in produced an even prettier shake, and combining that with a deep swallow got him a cracked gasp. Which was just where he wanted matters. As he stood, Jack yanked down James' breeches to his ankles so the other man couldn't walk, then stepped over the crumpled garment to lean his full weight into the trembling body before him. "Now, then. About m'question."
"Jack," came the ferocious, strained hiss. "Have you no sense of-of-"
"Mercy?" Jack propped one bent elbow on the wall by James' head and examined his nails while the other hand skated down James' chest to stop just short. "Propriety? Generosity?"
James closed his eyes and, with a visible effort, brought his breathing under control. "What do you want?"
"Now, y'see, that's what I'd like t'know. As y'seem t'have decided y'don' want whatever that happens t'be." Sweat from James' brow tasted vaguely like soap, but droplets lapped from his quivering neck and the hollow at the base of his throat were citric salt, like limes eaten with sea spray. "I came here because I wondered whether Will was all right after killin' Gasper's man. Turner's a fightin' pirate, t'be sure, but not a murderin' one. Savvy?"
"No." The eyelids fluttered, then steadied to slant a prescient gaze at Jack. James suddenly lunged forward, capturing Jack's lips in an unexpectedly savage kiss. Bruised him, caught his guard down and struck in to shake lightning down his spine. Then the force of nature was gone, tucked back behind a shadow-mirror of James' normal composure. "You came because you missed him. Because you're tired of waiting for your turn. Because you want to take him. And take him back to your world."
So that was where the wind blew. Jack crushed down his instinctive irritation and embarrassment, then kicked his reflexive urge to grab the blacksmith and run under a metaphorical rock. As tempting as the proposition was, he did like and respect James as well. When the man wasn't being an envious, insecure idiot whose rigid self-control only packed down the gunpowder into better explosive. "Mate, I really do think y're not referrin' to m'fine self any more."
"Oh?" Arched eyebrow that Jack couldn't help licking. Aristocratic contempt always was a flashpoint for him. While James gasped into his neck, he worked out a vial of bottle from his clothing and slathered up his fingers, then plunged the first in. Well, now-to judge from the lack of resistance and immediate response, Will had been busy. Pity he hadn't tackled James' various internal conflicts, or Jack wouldn't currently be late for surprising the blacksmith. "God-God damn you-"
"James." Jack paused to let that deliberate change in tone sink in while he added more fingers and loosened his trousers. Lovely, lovely wriggling, and no, it really wouldn't be fair to leave the man hanging. Even if he could be quite the vicious one with words as well as military strategy. "James. I couldn' drag Will away from where he didn' care t'leave any more'n either of us could've stopped him duelin' in y'r name. An' I wouldn' bother tryin'-he'd hate me. Come t'think of it, I'd not like m'self too much, either."
"He. Almost. Died." Lashed that across Jack's face when he shoved into the other man, when James jerked and suddenly pressed forward to bury his face in Jack's neck. "And I-would've had-to watch."
Not much Jack could say to that, given as a few weeks later and he still felt the same. Jesus Christ, but the whelp could be so stupid-oh, Holy Mary. Hot and clenching and yes, James was getting revenge on the earlier torture. Jack felt rippling silk through his whole body, grabbing at his nerves and ruthlessly twisting them till the pressure nearly stopped his breath. He clamped fingers down on the other man's shoulder and sought out the rhythm, listened for tide and surge and ragged heartbeat. Matched them. "I know. I know."
"I can't-" voice was a mere whisper now, choked dry while wet dripped into Jack's shirt "-I can't see that. Not again. God-Swann and Will-neither were well enough to-to see to the funeral, so I did and-Christ, Elizabeth. I can't see that again. I can't lose him."
"I. Know. I can't, either. But we might have to, an' that's how things go," Jack rasped, forcing James back so he could get a clear view at the tear streaks. His kohl had smudged onto the other man's cheeks so they seemed gaunt and beaten. He kissed James, pushed his tongue deep until all he could taste was warmth and spark. Excluded the dirt, the ashes and dust of the funeral litany. Dove in again and again, taking comfort and reassurance and having it taken from him. Couldn't help but give back, damn the rule and the guideline. They were cold things, after all. Coal ink and scribble on paper, nothing like the living shapes that swam and walked and breathed and bleed. One corner of the square gone, but the triangle could hold.
If the point learned to hearken to its commonsense and its elders. Then there would be no collapse to the line, which was frail and lifeless and had nothing to it. No dimension-nothing.
"Jack, damn you. Pay attention." Violent jolt that shocked him back, almost melting his bones in the process. James' spirit had revived, apparently; the other man's eyes flashed and scorched as he writhed, faster and harder, making Jack struggle to keep up. "Watch-"
James' head went back, rapping hard and probably painfully against the wall as his climax tore off the end of his sentence. Stickiness splattered over Jack's front, soaked into his shirt-he'd have to borrow another from somewhere-and James tightened around him to the point that his vision fragmented into brilliant strips of color.
Later, when the world quieted and he had gathered up all the pieces of himself, he silently untied James and helped straighten their clothing into something passable.
"I…" James shook his head and began again. "We can't keep him safe if he doesn't want to be, can we?"
"Doubt it," Jack agreed. "Though Will's gen'rally a cautious man. Just not so good facin' his weak spots. Y'know…he's a good man for guardin' y'r back, but I'd like it better if his own wasn' open for attack."
They started for the exit, but after a few paces, James wobbled to a stop. He looked contritely at Jack, then glanced away so the creeping scarlet in his cheek was more apparent. "What I said earlier…those were false accusations, and I should have known better. None of that fight was your fault. I'm-I apologize."
Jack clapped a hand to the other man's arm and grinned at James' wince. "S'all right. Just so's y'don' fire on m'ship ev'ry time I care t'stop in."
"I never even know where you manage to find a place to anchor, given that none of my men ever spot the Pearl except on the open ocean," James observed dryly as he ducked out the door. "I suppose you'll want to clean up first."
"What, an' shock y'r fine housekeeper?"
James narrowed his eyes. "Jack…just how long have you been in town?"
Oops. Not a good time for that explanation. "Er…let's just say I was browsin' th'market."
Another suspicious look, but the commodore didn't seem inclined to pursue the matter. Then again, they'd have to hurry it up a bit if they were to make dinner. And Jack never missed a free meal if he could help it the least bit. To James' abode it was, then.
***
Will thought he was a fairly intelligent man. True, he didn't always understand women, but Elizabeth hadn't always understood him, though their misunderstandings were rare. But logic dictated that he should at least have no problem fathoming other men.
Reason. Hah. As if that even remotely applied to Jack. But James was supposed to be organized and rational. So what on earth had touched off the morning's little episode? He couldn't honestly believe that Jack would treat Will the way he had implied, or else he never would have made whatever truce he and Jack had. Likewise, he had seemed to understand why Will had taken Gomez's challenge, even if he didn't approve. And-
--Gomez. James had laughed off the issue, but then attacked Jack. If he saw the situation as Jack putting Will into danger, then that would explain why he wasn't angry at Will, but seemed to be at Jack. Who would be coming into town soon, and knowing him, would not do much to appease James' irritation.
"Good God," Will groaned, flopping back and throwing an arm over his eyes. "Elizabeth, men are morons. And I include myself."
The grave beside him, decked out in soft cropped grass and small starry flowers, didn't answer, but he thought he caught a soft giggle in the light evening breeze.
"I think most everyone in Port Royal thinks I've been slightly mad since your death," Will continued as he watched the clouds roll over each other. "A couple of the women caught me talking to you, and ever since, they all give me the oddest looks. Almost like they want to sit me down and pet me. But I don't really mind-that keeps them from wondering about why James has taken such an interest in me."
It felt different, lying on a surface that didn't rock beneath him and watching a sky free of creaking ropes and weathered wood. Not better, or worse-to Jack's neverending amusement, Will had the occasional bout of seasickness, and to James' eternal puzzlement, Will sometimes rolled his way along the cobblestones instead of walked. But definitely different. Interesting. He'd not noticed it so much before. Then again, after dueling with Gomez, Will had begun to notice quite a few things.
Which was in itself rather bizarre, because Gomez had not been Will's first kill. He had not even been the most gruesome, but he had come the closest to causing James' death. "But Jack's been in some kind of danger since I first met him, and I don't feel nearly as concerned about him."
The sun was beginning to pain Will's eyes, so he lolled sideways to face the bundle he had brought with him. "I know. He's Captain Jack Sparrow. He-that is it, isn't it? He doesn't have to worry about following rules, so I don't have to worry about him not wanting to follow rules. Whereas the Navy can be like a huge bloody collar around James' neck."
"But," Will added as he began to undo the rag wrappings, "He did have a point. I think-hard to tell, with the way we were talking past each other. It's got to be easier on me than on them when I switch back and forth. I…I would like to have it simpler, but I don't see how it could be managed. Not without breaking something in everyone."
One tendril of wind brushed over his cheek, like a sympathetic hand. Will gave Elizabeth's headstone a resigned smile. "I remember. Nothing that is truly good is perfect. Speaking of which-" he pulled off the last rag "-God…that's so bright."
The intensity of the reflected light dazzled his words into silence as he strained to take his first good look at what his hands had wrought. Finest steel, worked upon by strength and heart and spirit, then set into a modified copy of the most elegant yet practical hilt he had ever seen. That had been somewhere in a Middle Eastern market, stashed between old oil lamps and marvelously fantastical ironwork chandeliers. He'd spoken with a toothless jeweler there on the meaning of gemstones, and something about that had stuck with him.
Will took up his sword by the hilt and tested its balance with a quick sweep through the air, then hastily stopped his swing and began to bundle up the blade once again. There was something eerie about the sheer lightness and perfection of the sword. Like holding a dream, and Will suddenly felt the inappropriateness of trying out the new in front of the old, no matter how sure he was of Elizabeth's forgiveness and encouragement.
However, he halted himself before the hilt disappeared beneath the cloth and presented the end to the grave. "You said you wanted pearls for the rings instead of diamonds because they came from the sea, and so did I. But I think now that…you wouldn't have picked black ones just so you could remember. You missed him like I did, even if we never talked about that. So I hope you don't mind that I melted down mine and reset the pearl here."
In prompt response, a blossom blew loose from the plants tangled across the base of the headstone and smacked Will in the face, half-kiss and half-affectionate scold. "Thanks, Elizabeth." Somber but determined pause. "I probably won't be coming back as often, so farewell."
With that, Will finished doing up the rags and tucked his sword under one arm, then got to his feet. He idly checked his watch as he started off toward the cemetery gates, then cursed. Late. Like an urchin discovered at mischief, he picked up his heels and ran.
***
Jack scuffled his way across the small bluff, then scuffled back. Shook off a boot and poked at the grass before finally pronouncing a verdict. "Nice place."
"I'm absolutely honored to have your seal of approval." James plunked down the picnic basket and then squatted gingerly down to spread out the blanket.
"Y're much too fond of sarcasm for a man of y'r tender years," Jack muttered as he helped to pull the cloth into place. James was still flinching; apparently when Will climbed up top, he didn't put much into it. Yet another area of education that had been sadly neglected by Port Royal society. At this rate, Jack was going to be taking the whelp in hand till Judgment Day. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing. "Wouldn' be nearly so bad if y'loosened up a bit."
Slightly grim chuckle as James neatly folded up his coat before setting it aside where Jack could get at it and try on the fancy braided thing. Navy did have lovely clothing, and James in general only stocked the best civilian wear. The shirt Jack had "borrowed" would probably do him quite nicely for the next few years, if he could sneak it past the commodore. "If I loosen up anymore, my head would be in danger of falling off my neck. And Jack, I do expect you to return both coat and shirt. In…fairly good condition."
"An' th'William?" When tension solidified the air around him, Jack let out a wordless sigh and regretfully halted his pilfering of the dinner goodies. "James. That was a joke. Don' suppose y'know what those are?"
"Yes, I do. I simply happen to not find yours as amusing as they are truthful." Oh, now. The man not only had bark, but he had bite, too. Well, Jack had suspected such, but he'd not actually expected James to start using it. "It is going to be a problem."
"What's going to be a problem?" Will came skidding up the path, breathless and rosy-cheeked and adorably wide-eyed at the sight of Jack. Food. Eat the food first, then ravish blacksmith. Jack muttered the reminder to himself as he rose to greet Will. "Jack! You're here!"
And no matter what other nonsense St. Peter brought up at the gates, Jack could always point to enthusiastic welcome kisses like this to prove he'd done a few things right. Lovely and wet and oh, Will had been eating fruit. Jack nudged in and licked at the traces of syrup, following their tang down to the root of the moans. Some blasted stick was banging against his knees, but he could settle with it later.
"The chief advantage of this place," James' wry voice interrupted, "Is that it cannot be seen from below."
"Pity. Took a stroll through th'town this mornin', an' it could use a good shakin'." Jack ducked Will's mock-cuff and dragged the other man down so he half-fell into James' lap. Will blinked at the slight hiss that escaped the commodore, then frowned and reached up to tug aside James' collar.
"Well, I see that my fear of you two arguing yourselves into something isn't entirely unjustified." Will was clearly attempting to suppress laughter as he sat up for a closer examination of the bruises dotting James' neck. "Good God, Jack. You didn't catch him in the fort, did you?"
Before Jack could reply, James raised a hand to brush Will's hair behind an ear. "He did, and we had a fairly civil conversation. That…" charming little hesitation there, Jack had to admit "…shouldn't be a worry of yours. And Sparrow, if you wish to hear what we're saying, then move around. Don't lean over Will like that; you look like a demented monkey."
As if Jack was one to be distracted by insults from the real meat of the matter. So something had happened between the commodore and the smithing pirate…pirating blacksmith…between James and Will. That would explain a great deal.
Jack thought about that a little more, and decided that it actually didn't, so consequently he needed more information. When things had stopped whacking his side-"Will? This wouldn' happen t'be a sword, would it? Considerin' that it's a bit near to m'gut an'-"
"Oh, sorry." Will hastily set aside the long package, then stared back at them. "What?"
"You're done?" James asked, slow and careful, as if walking on eggshells. Or knives. "It's finished?"
Will didn't immediately answer, which told Jack a little more than what he actually needed to know. "Y'settle things, then?"
James froze, then favored Jack with a baleful glower. "I see. So that's how long your word lasts."
***
God damn it. All Will wanted was a nice dinner and some time to think, but life only gave him more and more complications. He could see the retort forming in Jack's face, the dignified grit packing down into James' backbone. "Don't. Start," Will snapped before any of it could get out into the open. "Yes, I finished the sword, and yes, I should be thinking about what next now. But I don't-I don't know yet, all right?"
"Will-" from two sides.
"No, no, no. I'm not listening, because you don't listen to me. Neither of you, no matter how many times I tell you that I love you both." Will spun up and stalked a few yards away, doing his best not to lose hold on his temper. But it really was beyond frustration how they refused to believe him when he…
Will halted by a tree and mentally backtracked. He blinked. Then he braced himself against the trunk and began to rap his forehead on the bark. Which hurt, but at least that sensation had a clear cause and effect.
"Ah…Will?" Surprisingly, it was not Jack's tattered finery that flitted at the edge of Will's vision, but James' perfectly laundered white shirt. "Are you all right?"
"I really should have mentioned that earlier." As the knocks appeared to be shaking his thoughts and feelings into coherency, Will kept thumping his head. "Look, I know it's hard on you. But I can't give up either-I go both ways, now. Sea and earth, ship and forge, and if I ever tried to take either out of me, I wouldn't be myself. I wouldn't even be alive."
An uncertain step nearer, and a hand inserted itself between his forehead and the tree so he had to stop. "Neither of us would ask that of you. Neither of us would have the right."
"So instead you blame each other for hooking me into the enemy's world," Will muttered. Once he'd ceased smacking his head, dizziness abruptly flooded in so he had to grab out for support. His fingers touched linen and soft skin that wrapped him back into solid support. "Hell…there's no easy way to deal with this."
"I saw the sword," James whispered into his hair. "The pearls look familiar."
Will sighed and stared at his hands. They were good ones, he supposed. Able to do anything, from fine metalworking to lethal swordfighting. "One is from my wedding ring. The other is from Jack."
"And the sapphire?"
"Oh, well…" The memory brought a slight grin to Will's face. He relaxed a little, allowing the heat of James' body to unknot the tension in his muscles. "I helped this Moroccan jeweler, and afterward, he asked me about my love. So I told him about all three, and he said that Elizabeth didn't need a stone, and Jack already had gotten one assigned to him. So he gave me that sapphire, and told me to have fun burning my fingers with the setting. Odd man, really, but inter-"
"I love you," James told him, voice fierce and pained and tight as the grip he had on Will. "I thought I loved Elizabeth, and I think I did, though not the way I'd assumed. But I love you. And I have you-whatever parts of you that I'm lucky enough to receive-and now I can't imagine the sea or the land without you."
Will started to speak, then shut his mouth and held onto James' shaking hands.
"I thought you were going to die on that man's sword, and I thought then that it would all end in a hanging. Because I would've gone after him and Gasparilla, and damn to whatever the Navy ordered. And now I don't know what could possibly keep you here with me when Jack can offer you everything bright and shining."
Christ, that was what James thought? All men were morons, and beyond a doubt, Will fell into that category. He twisted around and looked the other man in the eyes, trying to get across the true state of things in such a way that James would never again fall prey to such appalling assumptions. But apparently, that wasn't going to be enough. "Damn it, this isn't a matter of where I can find the best bargain. This is I love you, and I love Jack, and I'm willing to die for either one of you. Though I intend to do my damnedest to make sure that never becomes an issue." Deep breath while he tried to get a handle on a rapidly-spinning world. "I will stay here a few more weeks. And then I will leave with Jack. But I'll come back. I'll come back."
James bit his lip and looked away. "I know you will, but-"
"If there's a "but"-" Will hooked his foot around the other man's and brought them down "-then you don't. And I'll have to show you. Again and again until you do see."
He kissed James again and again, deep and shallow, hard and soft, until he couldn't taste a difference between their mouths. His hands occupied themselves with ridding the intervening layers of clothing. Thank God James had changed out of the uniform, Will thought inanely as fingers scrabbled under his shirt and trousers, scraped nails over his skin as James arched into a groan. He latched onto the other man's neck, filling his mouth with sweetness and sweat, and skated his hand down between them to draw out James' rising erection.
Will used every bit of knowledge he'd learned about James from the lazy nights, the hurried daylight moments, the dirty alleys and the pristine bedsheets. He stroked out whimpers and deep, ragged moans. He mapped out curves of bone and muscle with his lips, memorized every inch as if he were never going to see it again. But the caresses only convinced him all the more of the necessity of return, because he would always see this burning in the back of his mind: pinpoint pupils surrounded by hazy green, wide-open lips, and beautiful, beautiful-"You see? You understand?"
James twisted his head, sucked in a breath and then focused on Will, who suddenly shivered under the tracing of fire-fingers on his back. "So that's what Jack taught you."
"Jack teaches me how to live. You teach me why." Will saw seawater surge up behind James' eyes, then burn away to pure flame that pulled a gasp from his chest. The hands ripped down and tangled them together, grinding and furious and almost melting into each other. "God, James, please…"
"Yes--yes--" choked harsh into Will's ears as hands seemed to touch everywhere, bring every single nerve to shocking life. He grabbed onto James, dug in his nails and then it felt like he was hanging in space. Thrashing in space. Rubbing and writhing and God, that felt so good he couldn't imagine the world without it.
James' lips came down at the very last moment, feeding scream into scream so their throats nearly burst. Will inhaled and choked, muffling his uneven attempts at recovery in James' shoulder while the other man panted and tore up little tufts of grass. "Damn. Your shirt's green now," Will muttered.
"Second one ruined today," James answered in a distracted voice. He was looking up and slightly left, and the slight twitch of his mouth either indicated exasperation or amusement.
Clapping, and a "Fine show, gent'men. I most enjoyed it" in a rather frayed voice. Both, them.
Jack staggered up and dropped to his knees by their still-entwined bodies, the glints of his smile echoing the fireflies that had begun to come out. "Y'know, th'food's goin' t'spoil soon. An' there's a lovely blanket over yonder, if y'd care for an encore."
Shaking his head at the other man's irrepressibility, Will reached up and gave Jack a thorough kiss. Then he sniffed and looked down. "Are you going to be fit for anything any time soon-ow!"
A miffed expression on his face, the pirate administered another cuff to Will's head while James chuckled and rolled off. "Insolent whelp. Y'll see, come tomorrow…an' while we're discussin' such, am I right in assumin' I get Sunday afternoon?"
"And morning," James reluctantly added. "The parish priest has some odd opinions on social order."
"What he means is that the townspeople are perfectly all right with me as a tradesman and neighbor, but for some reason, they don't think I'm fit for religion anymore," Will explained in a much more tolerant tone. Personally, he had never liked Sunday services and was glad for an excuse to spend more time in the forge, but James seemed to like taking offense on his behalf. As the man wished; one thing sailing under Jack had taught Will was that all men had their pet causes, and woe betide anyone that objected to them. Not to mention that it did feed Will's ego. Just a little.
Oddly enough, the elucidation seemed to peeve Jack as well, for he took up Will and James by the arms and hauled them back to dinner while mumbling about stodgy landspeople who shouldn't point fingers if they were going to keep their windows open during that kind of ruckus. Will carefully didn't ask for details.
***
Jack blearily weaved his way to consciousness at a godforsaken hour of the morning-no storm, no sails on the horizon, so why on earth was he awake?
Ah. James charting out Will's throat under the guise of saying farewell for the day. "Might want t'let th'boy breathe once in a while," Jack grumbled as he eeled his way over to investigate a bared shoulder.
He got a shudder and a sharp look for his pains. James rocked back on his heels, then shrugged and bent back down to kiss Jack. Cautious and light, with just a hint of teeth to keep things interesting. "You are the last person with whom I would ever share something like this. You are also the only person with whom I would share something like this."
"Likewise, mate." Jack let diamond coat the edge of his smile, and saw the same gleam in the corners of James' eyes. "Likewise."
"If you two are done," Will growled, elbowing them both as he slumped back into bed. Brushed himself in a very interesting manner against Jack's morning stirring. "See you at dinner, then."
"I'm looking forward to it." James eyed the wall for a few seconds as pink crept into his cheek. "You…neither of you need to leave the house, if you don't wish to. The…ah…the servants have been informed."
The commodore wisely left before Will finally burst into laughter. "I knew it! I knew it! They're all-God, I don't know where James found his housekeeper, but she-oh, Christ in Heaven. This is too absurd."
"About th'usual, I'd say." Jack nuzzled the sheets further down, very happy that Will had never gotten around to the nightshirts. Looked quite adorable in them, really, but the damned linen bags got in the way at the most irritating time. He took a lick at the dipped waist, then followed that patch of skin as the curve inverted and Will hissed.
"Jack. I'm sore." But the other man certainly wasn't moving away. Or even expressing any kind of reluctance. "And not just inside. Everywhere."
As if he were paying attention to such feeble nonsense, Jack nodded and rubbed his grin into Will's back when the sweep of his hair provoked another quiver. He let his hands join his mouth in petting the other man into more obvious participation, then tumbled Will over and sucked little red marks to life all over the lovely smooth skin while groans tore at the air above him. Will's fingers threaded between the beads and bone to pull him up, while legs fell apart in one of the most gorgeously obvious invitations Jack ever remembered seeing.
He grabbed for the oil; luckily, the bottle was still uncapped from last night. It flowed icy over his fingers, and he tried to slow down so he could warm it, but Will would have none of that. The other man nearly went cross-eyed as he gritted, "Cold."
"Impatience-"
"Shut up, Jack," and then Will was squeezing and moving, warming himself up, and who was Jack to argue with initiative like that? So he went with it and against it and finally just lost himself within it. Let the heat sink into his bones, let Will whip up to trace a curious tongue around scars and tattoos-Jack confessed to whimpering at that. He struck back with a twist of the hips that threw Will up and back, with a long drag up the offered neck to lap at the sweat gathering just under the chin. "Oh-oh, Holy Mother of God-I love you."
And as if the words tipped some invisible balance, everything flashed from inside out.
Jack came back to see shaking hands-his hands. And Will's concerned face. "Jack? Did I say something wrong?"
"No." No. Nothing wrong at all. Absolutely nothing. In fact, this might be the most near-perfect day since Jack stepped back onto the Pearl as her captain and felt her thrumming against his palm and feet.
Will's eyebrows drew together. "So…"
"Love you, too, Will. Even though y're much too fond of that ridiculous "honor" code. Need to spend more time with…hmm?"
"You can…just say it? Like that?" Puzzlement looked very good on Will, so Jack pecked at the wrinkled brow and watched the confusion spread.
"'Course. It's true, after all. Y'only needed t'ask." Their current position was beginning to put the strain on Jack's back, so he eased out and stretched himself beside Will. James did have top-notch pillows and mattress, which made Jack wonder all the more how the man kept his posture so rulerlike. It was uncanny, really. "So, then. What's today?"
"Sunday." Will dodged back from Jack's half-hearted smack, then winced. "Thought I'd try out my new sword, if I feel up to it later. Otherwise, not much."
"So no sailin', I take it." Jack didn't look away from Will's accusing expression. "Stop that. Y'know that I'll ask, an' keep askin'. That's just how I am."
"And I'll keep saying no until I'm ready." The other man rolled his eyes as he tucked himself into Jack's arms. His breath was light and steady on Jack's shoulder. "So it goes. So it's always goin' t'go."
Frustrated wriggle, of which Jack was happy to take advantage. "Two places, one man. Suppose if my father managed it, I can."
"Two places, three men, an' a lot of ships," Jack corrected as he played with Will's hair. Maybe a braid here, and some pearls over there would set off the ear's curve very nicely. Plus that pretty earring that he was proud to say was his doing. And…well, now. Two rings. "Thought y'made y'r weddin' ring into th'hilt…one's mine, an' th'other…is not y'r weddin' ring."
"No, it's James'. I mean, it was the one he was going to give Elizabeth, but think he had it remade-" Will yawned and drooped into the blankets. "Odd dinner, two nights ago, and he gave it to me after…"
Jack eyed the bit in question: tasteful little thing, of course, and though the style was still for a woman, it looked quite at home on its final resting place. Like it'd grown there, same as Jack's, and had spent its entire life snuggling around Will's finger.
Take what you can, and give nothing back.
The thing about guidelines, Jack mused, was that they didn't always fit the situation. And unlike jewelry, the situation never could be made to fit them.
Given enough time, he supposed he could make up a new one.
***
As was typical, the Sunday sermon was a lifeless diatribe on various perceived sins in the town, liberally mixed in with constant reminders to resist the heathen luxury of the Caribbean climate. James arranged his face into a suitable expression and settled back as best he could into the hard pew.
He should have been thinking about Quartermaster Hill, or about getting Jack out of Port Royal without any grand commotion, or about the definite fact that Will was leaving. But in point of fact, the only thing that occupied his mind was the thought of the afternoon. Free and clear and if he had to share Will with Jack, then so be it. The pirate did improve slightly upon close contact, and God, but Jack's mouth on Will's-
James hastily squashed that train of thought, which might have led to memories of that night and thus to an entirely inappropriate course of action in a church. But nevertheless, a faint smile found its way onto his mouth, and no matter how the priest glared, James couldn't manage to remove it. Let the people wonder, he thought, and let the future play out however it willed. At this present moment, he was happy. And that was what mattered most.
***
Nearly every day that he had spent in Port Royal, Will had stopped by Elizabeth's grave for a short monologue in which he brought her up to date on his life. In which he complained and grinned and sometimes shed a tear. He stood by the cemetery gates now, hand on the hilt of his new sword, and stared out across the softly sloping lawns.
It felt odd, not going in. But he didn't need to anymore.
"Will? Y'note that one over there? Who's too busy scoldin' those poor boys t'watch his pockets-"
"Jack, they broke his window with their ball. And no." Will shook his head and turned back before the other man could take off on another scrap of mischief. "We are not. We're going to go down to the forge and help me sort orders, and then we're going back up to the house so James' housekeeper can feed us lunch, because otherwise we'll break her heart."
Two arms draped themselves over Will's front as Jack apparently tried to merge into Will and nearly sent them both to the ground. "An' then?"
"And then I don't know, but I'm sure it'll be interesting," Will said, sarcastic but truthful. He started down the street, Jack still pattering all over him as they went along. "But frankly, I don't really care, as long as you and James are around somewhere."
***