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Goodness, they don’t do things like this in Disney movies, as much as some people might wish they do. But no harm or disrespect is meant by making them do things like this.
To Give Thanks
“What did you show him?”
“What?”
“Come on, Will. ‘Fess up. What did you show him?”
“Who?”
“Aocmo… what’s his name.”
“Aocmoilhuicpa.”
“That’s the one. Well?”
“I think that’s personal.”
“I think it involves me.”
“Why?”
“Because what I showed him involved you.”
“What makes you think I showed him anything at all?”
“You just said it was personal.”
“I know what you’re doing, Jack.”
“What am I doing, luv?”
“You’re fishing.”
“Fishing for what?”
“A compliment.”
“No.”
“Yes, I can tell by that wicked gleam in your eye.”
“I am not gleaming. Or fishing. I swear to you. On my honour. This has nothing to do with me wanting a compliment. From you. Although, I always do. Want a compliment. From you.”
“Then what is it?”
“What is what?”
“To do with?”
“Oh.”
“Jack, I’ll not be mocked.”
“Who’s mocking? I’m not mocking.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I’m asking you to tell me what you told him.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Because what?”
“I want to know.”
“You already know. You were there.”
“Well, then I want to hear you say it. Out loud.”
“Out loud?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Um…”
“Why, Jack?”
“Because I like it.”
“You like it.”
“Aye.”
“When I talk.”
“I love to hear you talk.”
“About the things we do.”
“Aye. Especially that.”
The tent had grown appreciably warmer during this conversation. Will breathed out noisily, not a sigh, as if to clear the air in front of his face.
“I can’t.”
“Oh, I think you can.”
Will shook his head, which moved the hair around his face. A lock of coiled chestnut sprang off his forehead and fell in front of his eye.
Jack took the end of it between his fingers and rubbed the softness of it.
Will looked down at his knees.
Jack reached just past Will’s head and turned the clever piece of bent metal he’d wrapped the lantern wick around, and plunged the tent into utter darkness.
“There,” he said, “I can’t see you. So it will be easier.”
“But you can. At least it feels like you can.”
“Luv, it’s totally dark. There isn’t even a moon tonight, and even if there was we’re in a tent with the lantern out, savvy? Pitch black. Can’t see a thing.”
Jack was lying. Not about the light, or lack thereof. There was no light. But he didn’t need light to see Will, perfectly, in the dark. His eyes half-shut in concentration. The crease between his brows ever deepening. The lovely blush creeping up his sculpted cheekbones.
“Why do I feel your eyes on me?”
“That’s not my eyes, luv. That’s my heart. Tell me what you showed him.”
Will sighed. “The night before we set out.”
“In the tent? By the cliff?” Oh dear, thought Jack. That wouldn’t do. He’d been suffering from an embarrassing inability to stay on task that night.
“No, before we came here. The night we, my father and I, carried you up to the room above the tavern.”
Ah, yes, the tavern. The night after the first time they’d… now, why would he show that to a randy heathen god? Didn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t he show the night before that? That’s what Jack had shown him.
“You took care of me,” Will said. “I was sore and still a little scared, because it was the first time I’d ever… done anything like that before.” He paused. Breathing audibly. “The first time I ever fucked.”
Jack felt giddy. He would never get enough of Will Turner saying that word.
“And after you fucked me,” it got easier the more he said it, “and I was sore from it, you took care of me. I thought when you touched me there, when you licked me like that, it was only to ease the way, only to get me ready. So you could fuck me.”
Jack nodded eagerly in the dark. Licking Will to get him ready for fucking, that sounded like a good idea.
“But you didn’t want to fuck me. You just wanted to make me feel good. And it did feel good. It does feel good, Jack, when you lick me there.”
Where, Jack thought. Tell me where. I want to hear you say it. Please.
“It makes me…”
Oh, yes, that, say that too!
“It makes me hard when you lick me there.”
He wouldn’t say where he liked to be licked, but at least he said it made him hard.
“And that night you didn’t care about yourself at all. You just took care of me.”
Jack didn’t care about what Will told the god anymore. He wanted to hear more about where Will liked to be licked. Jack reached out a hand, which connected with Will’s thigh. Good start. He stroked across the tight trousers, felt lean muscles tense in a good way.
“He wanted to know why I was so sure you love me. So I showed him how you took care of me, with no thought for yourself.” Will’s thigh trembled a little under Jack’s hand. “And I showed him how worried on the beach when you thought I’d been captured, and about when you dove into the water after me.”
“Hmmm.” He wanted to make Will’s thigh twitch again, just like that, when he stroked further up it, and more toward the inside where Will was most sensitive. He didn’t want to ever think about diving into the cold water after Will again, because every time he did he thought that next time he might not be so lucky. But there it was. He was thinking about it. And when he opened his mouth he couldn’t stop the words.
“I would have died if I hadn’t been able to bring you back up with me.”
Damn. Why on earth would he say such a thing out loud. It breaks the cardinal rule of pirating. Of pirateness. Being a pirate. Nothing, no one, is worth dying for. And if they are, you never admit it. Not out loud.
Will chose not to comment upon this faux pas of epic proportions. He just shifted closer to Jack, bringing his cock closer to Jack’s stroking fingers. “But you didn’t. That’s why I got to tell him about you licking me like that.”
Better. Much much better. Back to the licking. All he had to do was say the words, all he had to do was say it out loud and Jack would lick him again. There. Anywhere he wanted. Jack waited for Will to say it.
“I thought it was some sort of sacrifice on your part. To do that all for me, and not do anything for yourself.”
No, not at all, Jack thought. Nothing is a sacrifice where you’re involved.
“But I think you liked it just for itself, just to do it.”
He had to be joking. How could Jack not like it?
“I’d like that now.”
Perfect.
“It would be a nice way to give thanks.”
“Give thanks?” Jack blinked in the pitch dark. Give thanks to whom?
“We should celebrate. Being alive. Being together.”
Of course, that made sense.
“So, I’d like to do it.”
Jack made a noise of agreement and slid his hand the rest of the way up Will’s thigh to touch the thick bulge in his trousers. Hot and straining against the linen, just the way Jack liked it. He squeezed lightly and was rewarded with a hitched breath and one of those little mewling noises. Then the clearing of Will’s throat.
“Strip,” Will said. Hot and demanding.
Strip? Jack didn’t need to be told twice. He was naked before you could say Captain Jack Sparrow. He knelt, naked, in the middle of the tent, and reached for Will’s cock, Will’s arse, Will’s anything. Will wasn’t going to say it, but he would do it anyway. He was confounded by the presence of trousers, still securely fastened over the bulge. “Irksome trousers,” he muttered. And was silenced by the weight of Will’s body against him, then on top of him, then sliding down his body.
“Will, but, I thought…” Jack protested.
“What?”
“I thought I was going to get to lick your arse,” he said, surprised by how saying it out loud suddenly made him feel insecure.
“I think not, Jack,” Will said as he slid back up to place a kiss on Jack’s lips. He speared his tongue into Jack’s mouth and Jack opened up for him. God yes, Will could kiss. Jack lifted his head to take even more tongue into his mouth. He could make those soft lips go hard and demanding and deadly. Jack didn’t want the mouth to move away. He tried to follow it, but a wide hand pressed down on his chest when Jack tried to sit up.
Then Will slithered back down Jack’s prone body.
“I’ll be doing the licking tonight.”
Jack’s head fell back to the ground. Jesus, but the boy was going to be the death of him.
Next: Chapter 69 How Much Can One Man Take?
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