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Standard fanfic disclaimer #642 – They own this, I don’t, I make no money, they do.
It’s not fair but that’s life
Warning: Explicit body modification may not be for the squeamish – but don’t worry, does not involve any genital mutilation.
White Hot
The brand glowed white hot. The very sight of it made Captain Jack Sparrow’s left eye twitch uncontrollably. Just a nervous reaction, didn’t affect his functioning at all. Only a little tic.
“Jack you don’t have to do this.” Will’s voice was low, pitched to reach Jack’s ears alone. Everyone - and Jack could see this meant everyone - stood or sat around the main clearing within eyesight of the little forge Will had set up. Everyone waiting for the first branding. And everyone expected it to happen to Jack.
Jack considered the blistering heat of the metal shape, crafted by Will to turn the brand of one plantation owner into a new symbol. A second brand rested beside it in the fire, the one that would change another slave trader’s brand into that same new symbol. Currently possessing neither of the brandings on his body, Jack would have to endure both of them. He had not counted on that.
He tossed back a fortifying shot of rum.
Will frowned. He hadn’t wanted to do any of the branding at all. He hated the idea of hurting anyone. But it seemed as if he was the only person present who had any experience at all, even though he’d only branded cattle. He would have to do it, but the last person he wanted to hurt was Jack.
Well, perhaps not. Jack was tough; he could take care of himself. Maybe Kay was the last person he wanted to hurt. They’d grown very close. And Tessie, she’d accepted him as her son and was a wonderful woman. Then there was Alphonse, who he hated the idea of hurting. Alphonse was a wonderful brother to him, and was such a kind, giving soul. And he could not leave Charlotte off the list, especially since she might be carrying his child.
But none of them was due to have his or her flesh seared in a hideous manner. So Jack was at this moment the last person he wanted to hurt. Except for Rina’s young son, Louis, who stood to one side watching with wide eyes and fingering the pale, raised skin on his shoulder, which showed the mark of the plantation owner, with his mother standing by his side.
Jack stared into the deep, brown eyes of his lover. He could tell Will was hoping Jack would back out. Jack was, he had to admit, hoping the same thing. Then Jack stared into the deep brown eyes of the boy. He saw fear but he also saw trust.
“Do it,” he ordered, and pulled his loose shirt down off his shoulder.
Will could only stare at the scars there, from when they had been cast away together. He remembered cleaning the wounds so carefully and binding them with his own shirt, and cradling Jack in his arms. And falling in love. How could he add another scar on top of all that? This was ridiculous. There was no need. The child would understand.
“Someone has to test this theory of yours. Do it, and we’ll see if the two brands match up.” Jack steeled himself for the shock and pain that didn’t come.
Will shrugged. “We tested them on the leather scrap, and on the coconut. They work.”
“I said, do it, Will. That’s an order.” He straddled the wooden chair someone had placed next to the fire and shrugged his shoulders so the shirt slipped down even further. Will raised the brand from the fire.
“Wait! That’s not fair to make him do it.” A tall, black pirate stepped forward.
“What business is this of yours, Mr. Bertram? Leave it off!” Jack growled.
“Captain, I beg your pardon, but when you asked for men with experience I stayed quiet. That was wrong. I had a long hard history before you took me on, and I’ve tried to forget it, but I can’t. I used to do this for my master. I’ll be much… better at it than him.”
Will dropped the brand back into the fire, shocked. He’d known Bertram since he came aboard the Pearl in Tortuga years before, and Will never suspected he was a former slave. And to be forced to brand his fellow captives was unthinkable.
Jack had known, of course. He knew something about the history of each and every crew member, but had kept quiet about it. After all, he had his own history to hide. He looked over at Will, who was starting to look very relieved. “Very well, Mr. Bertram, proceed. Will, I think you should go somewhere else for this.”
“No Jack, I’ll stay with you. I don’t want you to be alone.”
Jack shook his head. “I’m afraid I shall have to insist. Kay,” he called out, “please take William, um, somewhere out of range.”
Kay nodded and pulled Will away, whispering, “You think it’ll help him but he’d rather not have you watch. You’ll have plenty of time to comfort him later.”
Will went along peacefully. Kay would never lie to him.
Jack steeled himself again, and this time the iron descended on his skin. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth and tried to think of something not painful, the opposite of pain. Lying in bed that morning with Will in his arms, watching the sun rise over the mountains, breathing in the scent of Will and running his fingers through silken locks. The feel of Will’s lips brushing across his nipple, the puff of breath over his smooth chest. A hot tongue rasping on his throat.
But the searing metal bit through his defenses and he let out a short noise, not a shriek, thankfully, but somewhat more strident than a manly grunt. He had a minute to catch his breath and Mr. Bertram was back with the second brand.
“Sorry, Jack,” he whispered, the first time he had ever addressed his captain by his first name. “It’ll be better if we get this over with as fast as possible, you understand.”
Jack nodded. “By all means, Mr. Bertram. Fire at will.” This time Jack made sure he did not think of anything too not-painful. Instead he focused on the most intense feeling he could recall. A feeling with its own element of pain to it, but also something so pleasurable it could wipe out any other sensation.
The slow, inescapable slide of cock into arse. The incredible stretch of a wide, round head as it pushed inside him. The sting of his opening expanding, the undulation hidden inside when the head pushed through the guardian muscle, and the exquisite friction of the shaft sliding in deep. So full and so shocking he becomes immobilized, and he waits for Will to stop sliding, to sink into him fully. Hands grip his hips, fingers digging in painfully. His own cock is straining to relieve itself, his bollocks are drawn up tight, and the sweat breaks out across his forehead, soaking his headscarf.
“All done, mate. You hearing me, Captain?”
Jack opened his eyes to the bright sunlight, and the crowd of people watching him. Watching him while he slid himself down over Will’s cock. And he didn’t care. He just wanted to find where Kay had taken Will.
But he didn’t. Not immediately. He allowed Okonkwo to spread a foul-smelling ointment across the burnt skin. Then he stood up, and helped the boy onto the chair, and offered his arms for support. And let the boy dig his fingers into his forearms; they were strong, they could take it. And the boy became the fictitious former property of Charlotte the harlot, by virtue of her having been brought up in the household of the Earl of Duncroft. And because she was probably the only white person on the island who wasn’t actively wanted by the authorities. Except for Bootstrap, who was supposedly dead. And Franklin, who was married to a black woman, which was probably against the laws of whatever country or empire that would ever attempt to claim this island as their own.
Jack was struck by how utterly ridiculous laws and countries and empires are. Right before he was struck by how bloody much his shoulder hurt, and how much he wanted Will. So he left the others to their business and went in search of his pleasure and his pain and his whole world.
He found Will on the beach, and Kay went back to the clearing to help the people who were getting branded, and Will rowed Jack out to the Black Pearl where he belonged.
“Why did you do that?”
Jack mumbled and nosed deeper into Will’s curls.
“You didn’t have to go through with it. It was an idle promise, Jack. You could have reneged.”
Jack propped himself up on one elbow. “Bloody hell, it’s the middle of the night and, frankly, I’ve had a difficult day. Me shoulder’s aching, I’m exhausted, and by rights I should be getting at least another half dozen shots of rum, but you won’t let me. It’s bad enough you think the rum will be bad for me, I’m too fragile to fuck - now you won’t even let me bloody sleep!”
Tirade over, Jack flopped back down on the bed.
Will tried to hold his hand, but Jack pulled it away.
This was definitely one of the worst days of his life. Will had checked his branding, made him dinner, kissed him gently, and denied him the one thing that would make the pain go away, and Jack could not understand why. Where had his Will gone? This Will was as uptight as his stepmother.
“Tessie is not uptight!”
Blast! Jack really had to start making a clearer distinction between speaking and thinking.
Will sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Long, naked, glorious legs. The loose shirt he wore covered him to just the tops of his thighs. Jack craned his neck to see if there was anything to see at the hemline between those luscious thighs.
“I just want to know why you felt you had to cause yourself damage.”
Jack thought about it for a while. There must have been some reason, although he couldn’t think of it off the top of his head. Oh yes, it had to do with trust and honour, but Will wouldn’t buy that, would he?
“Protecting what’s mine,” he said slowly. “I have to be part of this community, so when I find a way into that treasure chamber I’ll get my share.”
Will shook his head. “No. I believe that’s part of it, but why won’t you tell me the rest?”
“Can’t I have at least one more little shot of rum? It’ll be medicinal, I swear!”
No deal. More uptight than his stepmother. He’d have to tell the truth.
“I did it for the men. For my men.” Jack hung his head in a very unpirate-like fashion. “I see the way the others look at them. They don’t trust us and I don’t blame them. After all, we’re pirates.”
“But everyone here is an outcast!”
“Not like us. These people, they were kidnapped, or born as slaves. It’s an injustice and this settlement corrects a wrong. Alphonse and Matthew, they’re two decent upstanding men in love. They’re persecuted for it. Even Charlotte, harlot though she is and not really of aristocratic stock, I’m sure she didn’t grow up dreaming of being the best harlot on the Spanish Main. Circumstances, my boy, they force people into things. But me, and the rest of the lads, we chose our lot.”
“Mr. Bertram didn’t.”
“True, being a pirate was the only way he could be free. But I don’t want to argue this, Will. Fact is, we’re rogues, we’re scallywags, and we’re wanted. People here could just as easily tell us all to be gone. It’s unsafe having pirates around. The navy could come looking for us. We might rob you in the night. Or disappear and leave everyone else in the lurch. One can never tell. But some of the lads have their hearts set on retirement. This is as good a place as any. Maybe they’ll be a little more welcome now.”
Will’s brow furrowed. “So you mutilated yourself to prove your loyalty to us?”
“See? You think of yourself as one of them, not with me. I had to prove I would sacrifice for you. For us. I can’t pretend I want to stay here forever, Will. I can’t stay on land for long. But, to be perfectly honest, I’m a bit fed up of being an outcast. If these people will let me belong, then a least I’ll always have a place to come home to.” Jack reached up to toy with a lock of Will’s hair.
Ah, yes, arms full of Will, that’s what he wanted. This honesty thing worked pretty well.
“You scallywag. Of course being honest works! Especially if you being honest means you being so noble. But you didn’t have to do it to be accepted, you know. My family loves you just the way you are, or were. Nothing’s changed.” He was careful to avoid Jack’s shoulder as he wrapped his limbs around him. All that practice when Jack first hurt his shoulder paid off. He was able to avoid the injury expertly, yet still maintain maximum body contact.
Jack hugged him back. “I know, luv, but tell that to Okonkwo’s wife. That’s the one I really had to impress. The one thing I learned in my fancy upbringing is that you want the doctor’s wife on your side. You’ll always get good medical care, and she’ll spread gossip in your favour, not against you.” He hummed happily. “But that’s water under the ship. It’s done, I can’t undo it, and right now I need one of two things.”
Will cocked his head in confusion. “What can I do for you?”
“Either give me a bottle of rum to kill this ache in my shoulder, or fuck me good and rotten, because that’s the only way I’m going to get any sleep tonight.”
Will grinned. “Aye aye, Captain Sparrow. But I regret to inform you that the rum is out of the question…”
Jack grinned back. “I thought that might be the case.”
Now this is the life. The slow, inexorable slide of cock into arse. The incredible stretch of a wide, round head as it pushes inside him. The sting of his opening expanding, the rippling muscles inside when the head pushes through, and the exquisite friction of the shaft sliding in deep. So full and so shocking he becomes immobilized, and he waits for Will to stop sliding, to sink into him fully. Hands grip his hips, fingers digging in painfully. His own cock is straining, ready to burst, his bollocks are drawn up tight, and the sweat breaks out, soaking his bare forehead. Almost exactly what he wanted all along.
“I love you, Jack,” Will whispers in his ear. “I love you, my pirate.”
Jack just sighs. Exactly what he wanted. And he’s enjoying being home.
Next: Part VII Jack Loves Will
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