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I am but a humble fan. I am not a mighty movie studio. The movie studio owns Jack and Will. I own naught but my smutty ideas, and my King Fu Hamster that sings Kung Fu Fighting in a silly hamster voice. Well, I own my Kung Fu lunchbox, too, but that was a gift and I’m not giving it up for anything. So sue away, Disney, see if I care. You can cart me and my Kwai Chang Kane Thermos off to court all you like – I’m not making any money off this so you’ll never take me alive, grasshopper.
Day Three (Happy)
Jack lay in the shade, exhausted. How many times could he bring the boy to a climax, and how many times could he spend himself into the boy’s eager hand, before he would simply waste away? Their provisions, though plentiful enough, were not sufficiently appealing for him to consume enough to give him the energy he needed for this kind of vigorous activity infinitum.
Speaking of activities, Will seemed to be in no hurry to alter them, to move onto something new. Jack thought they might spend eternity on this island with their lips locked and hands on each other’s cocks.
Not that that would be such a bad way to spend eternity.
Will was dragging the dry canvas up the beach to fashion a tent for their camp. It looked as if another storm was approaching, and Will wanted them to be properly sheltered from it. He insisted on doing it alone, as he worried Jack might reopen his wound. It was a bit over-protective, since Jack’s shoulder was feeling much better, but Jack found the arrangement satisfactory. He needed the rest. And the view was more than agreeable.
Will’s trousers hung loose and low, exposing angular hipbones and a sculpted stomach. (Maybe he was already losing weight. Jack would have to make sure he ate well.) The heavy canvas dragged in the sand, making muscles stand out on Will’s shoulders and back. His bare feet dug into the sand, and Jack thought about how he would take those lovely feet, for he found every part of the boy lovely, in his hands to brush off every grain, taking special care between the toes. Will’s feet, he had found, were quite sensitive.
In fact, Will was sensitive all over. Jack delighted in finding each and every spot that produced a luscious purr – Will’s navel, the hollow above his collarbone, the tender spot inside his elbow. Every spot that wasn’t covered by those damnable trousers. But so far the boy had resisted all Jack’s efforts to remove them.
Jack, if he thought very hard, could understand that such a proper and inexperienced young man might be shy about being totally naked. But, he despaired, they were alone, on an island few people even knew about, and they’d been kissing and licking and fondling each other for some time. Surely he should get over his bashfulness.
He’d also managed to resist, in spite of Jack’s repeated efforts, and by shifting his body or distracting him in some other way, to keep his cock out of Jack’s mouth. And this was beginning to infuriate the pirate. Much as he enjoyed tasting Will off his hand or Will’s hand or, his favourite, off Will’s flat, delicious belly, he very much desired to feel and taste him directly.
Jack closed his eyes and remembered Will’s cock in his mouth, in the hold of the Interceptor during that storm. Two years before and his mouth still watered at the memory. It was ridiculous to be salivating over a two-year old memory when the real thing was standing right next to him, and all he had to do was open his eyes and…
Sweating, tanned skin gleaming in the setting sun, veins and tendons protruding from the strain of his work, sinful hipbones jutting out above the waist of those cursed pants. Will smiled down at Jack.
And there was a tent behind him.
“Did you have a good sleep then?” Will asked. “I’ve got some dinner for you.”
Jack sat up. What happened to the day? He ate his rations and drank the one mug of rum Will would allow him. Only one. Mustn’t grumble though. Knowing how Will disapproved of strong drink he was lucky to get the one.
It was a preposterous restriction, come to think of it. He didn’t deserve this deprivation. He stared into the empty cup and pondered. Since when did Captain Jack Sparrow take orders from a boy?
Since the boy lowered his ridiculously long dark lashes and peered up at Jack from under them, tinge of pink colouring his sculpted cheeks, wet lips curled into a shy smile - that’s when.
“Jack, are you not happy with me?” Will asked, voice soft, brow worried.
Jack’s frown softened. By all means, he wanted more, but they had all the time in the world. The boy was outrageously sweet and innocent. How could he not be happy? He pulled Will toward him and kissed his forehead.
Will tilted his head and caught Jack’s lips with his. They tasted each other for a few minutes, twisting tongues in an erotic dance. So very enthralling. Will ran his hands around and up and down Jack’s back and the tin cup fell to the ground, forgotten.
Jack suddenly didn’t care if all Will ever did with him was kiss him and handle his shaft with those, ah yes, such long fingers, so sensitive, inching into his pants, pulling him out into the open. But Will pushed the trousers down even more, and slid his hand further down to lightly trace around his... ah, so very nice.
Jack allowed himself to be lowered to the ground, weak with desire. Will was extraordinarily gentle with him, placing some bundled cloth under his shoulder to support it. He kissed the edge of the bandage sweetly.
The thought occurred that Will was holding back so Jack wouldn’t injure himself further. It was just considerate enough to be true. Jack couldn’t think very logically, though, because Will was trailing his tongue down his neck and chest.
Will seemed to love sucking on Jack’s nipples. Jack felt no need to complain. Will’s tongue circled one rigid nub and his fingers tugged on the other playfully. Jack sighed. He was a plaything. Happily.
The tongue continued down, over tanned skin, along sharp ribs, down to swirl around the hollow of Jack’s navel. Jack gasped. Will kept going, down to the sensitive skin of his lower belly, where black hair grew thicker. His cock jerked and nudged Will’s chin. Instead of jumping back, as Jack expected and wished he wouldn’t, Will inched further down and placed a single, shy kiss on the weeping slit.
“Please,” Jack couldn’t help moaning.
Will took a first, experimental lick. Jack moaned again. Hot, hot tongue. Cool, fast breaths washing over him. He didn’t dare look down. Will wet his lips nervously, the very tip of his tongue grazing the head.
That was an involuntary leap of the penis, Jack would have sworn; he could not have helped that if his life depended on it.
Will licked the salty fluid that had smeared over his upper lip. He would have smiled at the response.
Jack’s eyes were screwed shut, teeth gritted, desperate to not buck his hips and choke the boy. The heat of his mouth was volcanic; his inexperienced sucking was more exciting than the most accomplished whore’s would have been. Tentative fingers folded around the base, lips dared to move further down the shaft, and Jack tried to think of something, anything, to keep from coming right then.
He thought of hangmen and jail cells and the rum running out and even Elizabeth, but to no avail, because Will did the unthinkable.
With his mouth almost full of Jack’s cock, he purred.
Jack failed miserably, and with a strangled shout he erupted on Will’s tongue. Will reacted with speed and efficiency, closing his mouth around the convulsing staff and gulping down the salty discharge. Amazing for his first time, Jack thought in a daze. He pulled Will up to kiss him. Will backed away at first, but when he saw the look in Jack’s eyes he relented.
Hmm, Jack’s new favourite flavour. Himself on Will Turner’s tongue. Well, second favourite flavour at least, he was sure of it. The salty essence made the roof of Jack’s mouth sting. He sucked the slippery tongue hard, until Will was rubbing against him in a shameless attempt to gain much-needed friction. Wanton was a good place for Will to be.
He abandoned Will’s mouth reluctantly and kissed a path down his body. He tried to kiss, lick or nibble every square inch as he worked his way down, making Will squirm and gasp. And purr. And those trousers were finally going to go. He yanked them down harshly, and Will obliged him by wriggling out of them.
At last.
Jack rubbed his hand over smooth hard flanks and endless slim legs. He kissed down one leg to the knee and ran his tongue straight up the inner thigh. The soft hair on Will’s legs tickled his lips. Will spread his legs so Jack could kneel between them.
When Jack finally arrived at Will’s cock it was pulsing with need. Just the way Jack wanted it. He swallowed it down in one smooth move, squeezing his throat to massage the head, pursing his lips to caress the base. The sounds Will made would have been enough to make Jack hard again on their own. So musical. So very needy.
While his mouth was thoroughly occupied with swollen cock, he ran his good hand up and down Will’s leg, feeling the hard muscle beneath his fingers. So lovely. He moved his hand higher, and behind.
Definitely the most perfect arse on the Spanish Main. On the whole ocean. Jack kneaded the tensed flesh, lifting Will’s hips off the ground, greedy for more even though there was no more cock to swallow. He hummed low and loud, sending vibrations through Will’s body, making him vibrate all over.
Will’s fingers dug into the ground, looking for some way to keep him from flying into the air. His body sang with the building tension. When he gasped, the rushing air brought the taste of Jack to him again, like an echo. And that made his taste flood Jack’s mouth.
Jack pulled his mouth off Will, sliding back so only the head was in his mouth. He couldn’t risk a single drop flowing down his throat without first savouring it on his tongue. He held it in his mouth, like a rare wine, tasting studiously before he at last swallowed.
Definitely. His favourite flavour.
He wriggled out of his pants, kicking them to the side. With any luck, he wouldn’t be putting them back on until the Black Pearl returned. And with a little more luck, that wouldn’t be for weeks. He didn’t even care if the rum ran out. This was more than enough to satisfy any craving for drink.
Jack stretched his body out beside Will’s and melded to him. They fit together perfectly, Will’s softened cock and Jack’s semi-erect one pressing together in a warm nest of glossy brown and black curls.
Jack took a long, shuddering breath. “Now, what was that about me not being happy?”
Next: Chapter 25 Day Six (Trouble In Paradise)
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