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Goodness, gracious. Sweet virginal Will Turner doesn’t do things like this!
Obviously, Disney owns him, so he’s noble and true and kisses like a girl (smirk).
I don’t profit from making him manly and horny, at least not monetarily.
Decadence
Will Turner plunged the glowing red metal rod into a bucket of water. As the heated bar hit the liquid, his face was enveloped in thick steam. It stung his eyes and seared his cheeks, but he took something akin to pleasure from the discomfort.
He pulled the rod back out of the bucket and examined it. Worthless. His work was off tonight. He would have to take a break.
Twelve hours of toil wasn’t enough in one day. He pushed and pushed until this happened, until he wasn’t able to produce the kind of quality he was so well known for. Only then would he stop working. And then he was unhappy again.
When he wasn’t working he was thinking. And when he was thinking, he was thinking of things that could only lead to trouble.
Things like Jack.
What had possessed him? It was insane. There was no explanation for his sordid and improper behaviour. It truly was as if the pirate had infected him with some sort of lust.
Now he was impure and the only thing that could scour away the filth was long hours of hard labour, the straining of his muscles and sweat pouring off his body the only things that could make him feel clean again.
But he was losing the battle tonight. He could tell. Tonight he could feel the lust rising up in him. He might as well give in. He retreated to his little room off the shop and locked the door behind him.
That was the first thing he’d done when he returned from his adventures at sea. He installed a solid lock on the door to his chamber. Privacy was suddenly of the highest import.
Now he shrugged off his vest and shirt, kicked off his shoes and lay down on the narrow bed, sighing. On nights like this the only thing he could do was concede.
He closed his eyes and ran his rough fingers over his smooth chest. Not as good as Jack’s mouth. But his nipples hardened and his groin flooded with heat. He plucked at his nipples lightly, bringing them to sharp, almost painful points. Then he licked his fingers greedily and spread the wetness around the stiff little nubs.
He paid no attention to the purring little moan he made. That no longer bothered him.
He slid his hands down his ribcage, across his flat stomach, swirling one finger around his navel. He had dreams, sometimes, dreams of Captain Jack Sparrow licking around the dark little indentation, flicking his tongue around the hole, fucking his navel with his mouth. Lips closing around the hollow, wet and hot, and sucking gently.
The other hand crept further down, toying with the dark soft hair of his belly, unfastening his pants and yanking them down.
His hand was dry and rough. Would anything ever feel as good as Jack’s mouth on his hard length, suckling him like a hungry babe? Never. But he had to cope.
He grunted and tightened his fist, bucking his hips up to shove his cock harder into his fist. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to imagine a gentle palm cupping his testicles. Fingers teasing the sac, tenderly kneading them, coaxing them to tighten and ache. Such a delicious ache of pressure and heat building, growing, threatening to eclipse every other sensation.
He placed the tip of his index finger in his mouth and sucked at it, worrying it with his teeth. He could never duplicate the thrill of Jack sucking his fingers. It had been such a shock, such an unexpected pleasure. It made his cock unbearably hard then, as it did now, as he remembered the pirate holding and kissing his hands to soothe him.
The sensation of the pirate’s tongue flattened against his palm, licking across it and up one finger, woke him up in the middle of the night sometimes.
Will changed his grip on his member, softening it, lightening it. He swirled his thumb around the bulbous head, collecting the seeping fluid. He could smell his own musk in the air, and tried to recall the scent of his one-time lover. The pirate had smelled of the sea, fresh and bracing, and tasted the same. With a hint of sweet rum ever-present and an undercurrent of something Will couldn’t quite place, but he suspected it was rather like an almost overripe mango might taste like, if it were eaten midmorning, moments after having woken up, while lying on a warm Caribbean beach.
Jack tasted like decadence.
After being completely overwhelmed by having his fingers thoroughly sucked, Will had eagerly succumbed to the pirate’s ministrations. Talented, all-knowing hands had stirred something in him he never knew existed. And when he finally reached that unexpectedly strong release he’d been overcome.
His groping and scrabbling for the other man’s cock had been crude and ill practiced, to say the least. But he had to give back something of the same pleasure he’d been granted. It was imperative. And natural, like breathing, or closing your eyes when someone sucks your tongue into their mouth.
And what a cock it was. He loved the feel of it in his hand. Not too much longer than his but thicker, especially in the middle. Where his own cock had a slim shaft and wide, round head, Jack’s had been more the same width all the way up. Or down, depending on how you held it. The crown was just slightly flared, and he’d loved the feel of the foreskin gliding over the head. The hiss Jack made when Will flicked his thumb over it. The sigh when he twisted his wrist just so.
Will raised his hand to his mouth and sucked the gleaming drop from his thumb. Bitter, more bitter than Jack had tasted. He wondered what Jack had thought of his taste, when he’d licked Will’s seed from his own hand. The look on his face had been blissful. Will wanted that look on his own face.
When he raised his hand to lick Jack’s release from it, the pirate’s eyes had darkened with something beyond desire, beyond lust. It would have frightened him if he hadn’t already been so overwrought at the time.
He slicked his palm and fingers all over with saliva and brought the hand back to his hard length. He licked his lips, pretending to be licking the salty, musky taste of his lover’s cream from them.
He knew now what Jack wanted to do. In his waking, working, respectable, proper daytime temper he was disgusted by it. But now, as he lay almost naked on his bed in the dark, with one hand on his cock and the other reaching down to stroke the downy hair on his balls - now he dreamed of it. He dreamed of putting his lips around Jack’s swollen member and sucking on it until the pirate erupted in his mouth.
He moaned loudly as he felt his release surging up through his fist, spilling out onto his clenched fingers.
Then he lay still in the dark with his fist held close to his face, lapping at the bitter taste, colder and less appealing to him than Jack’s had been, until his hand was licked clean and his cock lay soft and temporarily sated against his belly.
Lonely. Crushingly lonely is how he felt. He didn’t think he would ever feel really and truly satisfied again. Not until he could feel and taste his lover again.
But the pirate was gone. And Will could only blame himself. He’d chosen Elizabeth. In his repulsion and disgust with himself, he’d made it clear to Jack that he never wanted to see him again. But he’d only felt that way for a short while.
Once the shock of his actions wore off he panicked. He couldn’t let them hang Jack, he would never forgive himself. He knew what he felt for the rogue was more than just lust, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself. Watching Jack swim away, toward the Black Pearl, out of the corner of his eye while he was kissing Elizabeth, Will felt a cold, dark void form deep inside his heart.
And nothing could ever fill it up. Not while Jack was gone.
Next: Chapter 15 Brilliant Match
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