Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"The least they could do is let you keep the crown."

Jack peeled his eyes open at the sound of Will's voice drifting from the other end of the cell, feeling only slightly resentful about it. He hadn’t gotten any meaningful rest since his latest marooning two days before and still felt a touch of the bottle ache, unable to entirely sleep off his drunkenness. Elizabeth’s penchant for arson and the ceaseless footsteps and chatter of Norrington’s crew above his head both shared the blame for that.

There were few ways Jack could praise the Dauntless or its blasted commodore, but the brig was decidedly more comfortable than the Black Pearl's — drier, for which he was grateful, and larger, with cells measuring three yards by four at Jack’s estimate. It was bare aside from its two occupants, leaving not even a stray nail sticking out of a floorboard with which they could possibly fashion an escape. They had been stripped of weapons and boots, and Jack of his new ill-gotten gains, upon boarding and departing from Isla de Muerta, leaving them barefoot, shackled and confined with nothing to do but stare at the wall and eventually descend into madness. Norrington claimed it was to protect them from themselves, but Jack reckoned that the profit that could be made from selling their belongings following their return to Port Royal mattered more than the safety of two suspected pirates.

Jack dug his elbows into the two walls behind him that joined into a corner and raised himself up, just able to make out the lad watching him under the dim light of a lantern hooked on a far wall.

"Stolen property reclaimed for God and country, long live the king. A good, law-abiding citizen would've known that,” he mocked, satisfying his desire to pick a fight with Will despite recognizing it as a puzzling act that undermined his own interests.

Will smiled rather than taking his bait. "I really have changed, haven't I?"

Jack squeezed his eyes shut and flopped back down like a petulant child, earning a bump on his head for the trouble.

Will, undeterred by the lack of response, said quietly, “They'll hang us, Jack."

"I'd help plot a getaway, but I make a terrible rowboat and 'm fresh out of back hair."

"We're in the middle of the ocean. Even if we managed to break out of this cell, slip past the guards and steal a longboat, it would only prolong the inevitable, I know that."

"You've grown pragmatic in your old age," Jack replied. "After two days adrift at sea, you'd beg for the noose."

"That's not what bothers me. I promised to give my life to save Elizabeth and I'd gladly do so again. It's dying a pirate."

Something dropped in the pit of Jack's stomach that he didn't want to consider long enough to name.

"S'nothing wrong with being a pirate, mate," he murmured in his own strange attempt at being comforting. “At least pirates is honest with themselves. Better to die forthright than live as a hypocrite, eh?"

Will scoffed. "Pirates? Honest?"

Will's skepticism had merit, but Jack was defensive of his claim all the same. "Anyone can be a pirate. One leg, one arm, black, white, man or lass, no one bats an eye. All that matters is that you can pull your own weight and ye don't get seasick."

"I didn't consider that," Will admitted.

"A bunch of misfits we are, that’s all. Better to face the facts rather than try to hide 'em away."

Will deliberated on it for a moment. "But you're a man, you have all your limbs, what sets you apart from polite society? What makes you a misfit?”

Jack grinned, and Will moved on.

"I know how that freedom appeals to you, Jack, but I couldn’t live a pirate’s life. Not that it really matters now if I don't have much life left."

"Ye're not dead yet, lad."

Judging by the sound of graceless clinking, Will attempted to gesture as he spoke. "I've a few days yet in the brig, then one more night in a prison cell. I may as well be dead."

Jack opened his eyes. He had nearly nothing to lose, but the weight of that cherished little, of the handful of days that remained and Will's short-lived opinion of him, sat heavily on his chest.

"There are ways to keep one's spirits up in the most miserable conditions if one has the right company," he said, never allowing his confidence to waver.

"I'm afraid I won't be a very good companion at the moment," Will said, innocent and stupid in a precious way that Jack hated and adored in equal measure.

Jack, since the moment he had met Will Turner, had struggled with the decision of either preserving that chastity that was so endearing to him or corrupting it beyond recognition. But he was above all things a pirate, and never was there a pirate that would protect a beautiful thing for the world to admire when he could steal it for himself instead.

The rolling of the ship and the chains that bound his wrists and ankles made standing close to impossible. His grasping at the wall in an attempt to bring himself to his feet was unsuccessful. He looked to Will, noticing the young man’s intrigue, and slowly lowered himself to his hands and knees, crawling over to the other end of the small cell. The uncertainty in Will's expression only deepened when Jack knelt by his side, but he didn't back down when the pirate reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.

"I suspect you're something of a misfit yourself, William, just like me," Jack murmured, barely loud enough to cross the short distance between them.

Will didn't kick him, didn't shout his love of the fairer sex for all to hear, didn't blink. He stared at Jack and he waited, and Jack didn't intend to keep him in suspense. Glancing back and forth between Will's eyes and his mouth, he leaned in close enough to breathe Will's air before their lips grazed in a fleeting touch.

Will's lips were softer than they had any right to be after several punishing battles and days of exposure to the salty sea air, Jack noticed. He tasted sweeter than Jack had dreamt of, nothing like the gruel and hardtack they had been fed or the stale water they were given to drink. He tried to chase it a second time so he could better identify it when Will spoke.

"Jack," he said, their mouths so close that Jack could feel the light puffs of air from the movement of his lips. Jack opened his eyes and saw uncertainty in Will’s as they darted across his face. "I don't, I've never..."

"I know."

Will huffed a bashful laugh. Jack had sacked ships, fought for his very life more times than he could count, but the kiss was the most reckless thing he had ever done, and to see it pay off so beautifully in Will's face brought him unspeakable relief.

"I thought I'd be hanged for it," Will confessed. "I suppose that sounds funny now."

A bittersweet smile crossed Jack's lips as he intertwined their fingers. "I only wish we'd had this revelation a bit sooner," he thought aloud. "In Tortuga, perhaps, or aboard the Interceptor when we had a ship to ourselves, all alone out on the open sea."

As if to prove his point, heavy footsteps echoed above their heads.

"Didn't quite envision this with Commodore Norrington lording over," Jack added with a glare toward the ceiling.

Will hooked his finger in one of the links of Jack's chains. "It's not as if we can get into much trouble with these. Shackling us to keep us from killing each other, if they only knew how wrong they were."

Jack shot Will a knowing look. "Were they really, now?"

The same breathless laughter bubbled from Will's throat, and though it would take the point of a sword for him to admit it, Jack knew that there was little he wouldn't do to hear it now that he’d had the pleasure. He curled his fingers in the front of Will's shirt and pulled them together, their kiss deeper and bolder and more passionate than before.

"Tell me what it would have been like," Will exhaled when they parted.

"Beg pardon?"

Will took a pause, brushing his nose against Jack's. “Aboard the Pearl."

Honor and the code be damned, but Jack wished that he could have taken Will back to his ship after the skirmish on the Isla de Muerta. He had mulled over it many times since they had been thrown in the brig, considered what he could have done differently and when, and he knew in his heart of hearts that Will would never have joined him of his own accord, nor would Jack have forced him to come along. To hear Will ask what might have happened had he chosen a different path when he had the chance should have been gratifying, but there was no joy in being right when the gallows loomed for them both.

"Close your eyes."

Will obeyed.

Jack lifted his hands, cautious so that he wouldn’t hit Will in the nose, to skim his knuckles along his cheek. "Would've set a course and taken ye to the captain's quarters straight away," he said softly. “Saved the celebration with the rest of the crew for the morning.”

He grazed his fingertips along the length of Will’s throat, felt his trembling heartbeat beneath. They traveled past Will’s collarbone, found the sheer fabric of his shirt and continued down to his vest. It was already halfway unbuttoned, presumably by one of Barbossa’s lackeys so it wouldn’t get in the way when they cut his throat.

He’d come so close to losing Will then, had barely entered the cave in time to stop his execution. To add insult to that particular injury, he’d had to seem as if he didn’t care whether or not Barbossa carried it out so long as the Pearl was his again. Not for the first time, he indulged in the memory of his former first mate as he lay dying before he focused again on the matter at hand.

“Would’ve brought a bottle of rum, naturally,” he said as he deftly unfastened the remaining buttons. “Offered a drink like a gentleman, taken a few swigs meself when you said no. Lit the candles—”

“You wouldn’t do this in the dark?”

Jack stopped, taking a long look at Will’s face. The slight part in his lips when his mouth was closed, the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose; he studied them as one might a masterpiece, committing them to memory. “No,” he whispered back.

He finished with Will’s vest and let it fall open, exposing the simple white tunic beneath. “Do you hear that?”

Will concentrated, his nose wrinkling slightly. “I hear the ocean.”

“Aye.” Jack tugged curiously at Will’s collar, discovering a few flecks and burns that likely resulted from his time as the apprentice of a lazy blacksmith. He swept his thumb against a small white scar and leaned in to ghost a kiss along Will’s jaw. “Freedom.”

“Jack…”

Using Will’s knees for balance, Jack hoisted himself to his feet.

“May I open my eyes?”

“Not yet,” Jack said, full of promise. He staggered his way around Will, settling behind him and sinking to his knees. With outstretched arms, he raised his shackled hands over Will’s head and lowered them around his front. With his cheek pressed against Will’s hair, Jack effectively pinned the boy’s arms to his sides as he dragged his hands along Will's chest. “Lean back against me.”

Jack maneuvered them back against a wall, sitting on his haunches and allowing Will to relax. “We were aboard the Pearl, weren't we?” He asked, slipping back into his role. “I pray 'tis more pleasant than your last visit. Did dear old Hector treat you well, by the way? Not as well as I will, I hope, but—”

“I’d rather not think about Barbossa at a time like this,” Will cut him off, sounding a bit strained.

“Perfectly understandable, love. Now I'd ply ye with something sweet after you declined the rum. Grapes, perhaps, or a peach. Ever had one?”

“Never.”

“The most delicious thing you've ever tasted. Only second, I imagine, to kissing you after you've eaten a peach.”

“You’re ridiculous, Jack,” Will said, fondness ringing clearly in his voice.

“I'd sit ye down and take your boots and your stockings off so you don’t track dirt into me cabin. Kiss your ankle to prove it wasn't personal.”

Will must have considered it to be a scandalous notion, and, to Jack’s delight, didn’t manage to muffle his gasp before the pirate could catch it.

“Oh, you make this too easy, darling,” Jack said. “Would I even have to take your trousers off?”

The elbow jabbed into his ribs was answer enough.

“All right, all right. Another kiss, then.”

The flare of Will’s temper simmered down to embers. He turned his head toward Jack, who rewarded his patience with a chaste peck on the lips. The same could not be said for the attention he bestowed on the outer curve of Will’s ear afterward.

“I’d take off this bloody shirt so I could get a better look at you.” Jack’s hands, which had rested motionless at Will’s sternum, came to life as he tweaked one of Will’s nipples between his finger and thumb. A sound slipped from him, a combined moan and yelp of surprise. Jack watched the nape of Will’s neck turn scarlet with mortification.

“Don’t be embarrassed, William,” Jack said in a hushed tone, pressing his lips to Will’s clothed shoulder as encouragement. “I want to hear every sound, see every look on your face. I’d never take my eyes off of you, had I the chance.”

“Truly?”

Jack paused. “You’ve no idea, do you?”

Will turned his head to give Jack a questioning look, or as close to one as he was capable of giving with his eyes closed. His cheek was still visibly stained with color. Jack touched it with his nose, and the resulting twitch at the corner of Will’s mouth was almost enough to make Jack’s imminent demise worthwhile.

“Let’s see. Boots, stockings, shirt… That just leaves your trousers, does it not?”

Will stilled in his arms, not breathing, and Jack was afraid he’d gone too far. “It does."

Jack hesitated, unable to discern Will’s mood solely from his tone. “I could leave them on, if you’d like.”

Will shifted back a little. It was easy to mistake for an adjustment to make himself comfortable, but the brush of his backside against the crotch of Jack’s trousers was too pointed to be an accident.

“Jack,” he said, rasping as if he were dying of thirst, “I want…”

“Tell me.”

“I want you to touch me,” he choked out.

Jack was only too happy to oblige.

His hands roamed the length of Will’s abdomen and found the hem of his shirt, dipping beneath it in search of his trouser button. Once undone, Jack slipped his uninjured hand inside, wrapping his calloused fingers around Will’s cock and getting a feel of it for the first time. It stiffened in his palm, thick enough to be a handful, and he gave a few experimental strokes more to sate his own curiosity rather than to entice Will.

Will sucked sharply through his teeth at the touch, determined not to make a sound despite what he’d been told, but Jack knew he was far too sensitive to stay silent for very long.

“I’d take these cumbersome things off,” he promised. “I'd want to see every inch of you, marvel at the gorgeous thing I was lucky enough to bring to my cabin. You'd kick me again after a while, remind me of what I was supposed to be doing, and I’d stop being so dreadfully inconsiderate. I’d lay you down on my soft featherbed, climb aboard — I’ve kissed you already, haven’t I?”

Will laughed softly, turning his head to steal another kiss from Jack’s lips. It was broken off by his own involuntary sigh of pleasure as Jack twisted his fingers, determined to bring him to orgasm.

“Go on, please.”

Jack cocked a brow. “Go on?”

“Tell me what happens next.”

“That’s entirely your choice, love,” Jack explained, his voice dropping to a purr. “I could finish you like this if you wish, stroke you until you spend all over my hand.”

“Or?” Will dared to ask, breathing as if he had run from the bow of the Dauntless to the stern and back again.

Jack teased the head of Will’s cock with droplets of his slick, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Or I could throw your legs over me shoulders and navigate your windward passage, as they say.”

Will was dangerously close to his peak, that much Jack could tell, but he stopped moving. “What?” He panted in confusion. “What does that mean?”

Jack had known many, many men and women intimately, but damn him if he’d ever known one like Will Turner. He pressed his face into the warm column of Will's neck to suppress his smile, determined not to give Will any cause to retreat back into his shell but tickled by his purity all the same.

“If you'd permit it,” Jack began, dragging his fist up and down the length of Will’s cock until he had coaxed the man into rolling his hips again, “I'd show you bliss known only to a precious few.”

That was slightly more encouraging, it seemed, as Will sank back against Jack’s chest and groaned.

“I'd take you as a man takes his wife,” he said further, quietly to prevent such sordid talk from being overheard, “and make you forget everything else besides the pleasure of being fucked.”

Will’s breath hitched, and Jack remembered it may very well have been the first time he had heard the word said aloud.

“Jack…” He pleaded, losing his rhythm along with his tight grip on control.

“I'd keep you on the brink of ecstasy until morning,” Jack vowed, “and only at dawn would I finally bring you to climax. Gods, William, say the word and I'd make you scream.”

Will dug his heel into the floorboard, and with one final thrust, his back arched into a perfect half-circle away from Jack, crying out his lover's name. The tension disappeared from his body, leaving him languid and content when he slumped back against Jack.

A perfect end for their first coupling, Jack thought, so it was typical, in his experience, that it would be almost immediately spoiled by pure chaos.

His ears perked at a strange sound after only a few seconds of luxuriating. Where there had once been footsteps, endlessly annoying like a bizarre form of Spanish water torture, now there was only silence.

Panic shot up Jack’s spine like a lit fuse.

“Move,” he said suddenly, sitting up straight and dragging Will’s limp body along with him.

“Wh—” Will stammered, blinking absently down at Jack’s hands where they worked quickly beneath his shirt to fasten his trousers again. “Jack, what are you doing?”

“No time to explain."

Finishing with Will’s button just as the door to the hatch opened, he yanked his hands up to unwind them from around Will’s body. What he hadn’t anticipated was Will’s head popping back instinctively to avoid being hit by the shackles, slamming into Jack's nose.

“Gods, Will!” Jack snapped.

He would have been lying if he ever claimed it wasn’t partly his own frustration that caused him to shove Will away, but his true motivation was to get the boy as far from him as he could to avoid being discovered in a compromising position. He could only imagine how amusing it must have been for the lieutenant to find them groaning from their various aches and pains — Will sprawled out on his front after being carelessly knocked to the floor and Jack cradling a bloody nose with his knees drawn to his chest.

“I told them this is what happens when two wild animals are caged together,” Gillette said smugly as he approached the bars.

“Haven’t the slightest idea what you mean, Godfrey,” Jack said calmly.

“Try not to kill each other before we arrive in Port Royal, would you? I'd hate to deny an eager audience a double hanging.” He chuckled to himself at the thought, turning on his heel to start back toward the stairs. “Don’t think we won’t restrict your rations if this happens again."

“If you starve us, we won’t hang properly,” Jack snarked.

“Whether your necks snap or you flounder around and suffocate makes no difference to me,” Gillette replied over his shoulder, clasping his hands behind his back as he stalled on the bottom step. “But we could take the cat-o’-nine to you both, if you’d prefer.”

Jack opened his mouth to respond with a colorful anecdote about the lieutenant’s mother when he noticed Will struggling to his knees. “Aye,” he said instead, not bothering to mask the bitterness in his tone.

Gillette smiled, far too self-satisfied for Jack’s liking. “Good day, Sparrow.”

“And to ye, Gregory.”

Jack liked to imagine he could hear the grinding of his teeth even after he closed the hatch behind himself.

“Jack,” Will mumbled, not daring to come closer. “Jack, I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I know, lad.” Jack touched his nose once it was safe to drop the act and found that it was still bleeding, much to his frustration, so he pinched his nostrils closed and tipped his head back. “I know you didn’t. Good timing, though. That coxcomb didn’t suspect a thing.”

Will, seemingly accepting that Jack wasn’t truly angry, gently moved the pirate’s hand away. “You didn’t want us to be seen together,” he said as he inspected his face more closely.

Jack couldn’t tell whether it was a question or a statement of fact.

“They frown upon that sort of thing, y’know. Still in denial about what goes on below decks aboard his majesty’s own vessels.”

“We’re to hang anyway, aren’t we?”

Jack didn’t know how to answer.

Will sighed, moving stiffly and awkwardly with his wrists bound but somehow managing to tear off a small piece from the hem of his shirt.

“Is it broken?” Jack wondered aloud.

“I doubt it,” Will said, lifting his hands to carefully sop up the blood from Jack’s lip with the cloth. “Is this how all of your trysts end?”

“Can’t say it’s never happened.”

Once Will was satisfied with his work, he moved in, but he hesitated several inches away. Jack thought he must have wondered whether or not it was acceptable for them to kiss outside of sex, and that simply wouldn’t do, so he leaned in for a quick peck to avoid Will tasting any lingering copper on his mouth, then kissed Will’s forehead.

“You didn’t...” Will said in concern, his gaze falling to Jack’s lap.

“Our lieutenant took care of it.” At Will’s expression of surprise and mild disgust, Jack clarified, “Went soft, William. He’s not nearly attractive enough for that.”

“Did you mean it?” Will asked sheepishly.

“I don't say things I don't mean, William, but you'll have to be a bit more specific.”

“That you wanted to…” He trailed off, unable to say the words. He grew bolder, coming closer and throwing a leg over Jack’s with some careful coordination. “I want it, Jack.”

Jack’s heart sank with regret for telling Will of something he knew that they could never have. He soothed his hands over Will’s chest, hoping to ease the blow. “We can’t. Not here. I dare not imagine what might happen should we get caught doing that, and I don’t have what I need to not hurt you besides.”

Will, surely used to disappointment after a lifetime of it, took it on the chin with a weak smile and settled for a few soft, open-mouthed kisses instead, all that Jack could handle after two exhausting days. The stress melted from Jack’s body and left him dog-tired.

Will likely noticed his half-lidded eyes and the slack in his muscles, kissing him once more before climbing off of his lap. “Lay with me?”

Jack thought he would rather face another mutiny than deny Will such a harmless request. The words stalled on his tongue and guilt played across his features. “We can’t risk someone coming down while we’re asleep,” he said remorsefully.

Will turned from where he’d set out toward his corner, frowning. “What risk, Jack? What is there left to lose?”

Jack declined to answer.

“I’ll be here on the morrow, William,” he promised, returning to his own side of the cell. “We still have time.”

He watched Will’s back as his dark waves poured across the floorboards and his shoulders rose and fell in a rhythm as steady as the tides.

“Good night, Jack,” Will mumbled.

“Sleep, Will.”

He didn’t look away even after Will quietly began to snore. He had long decided what he would do once they reached Port Royal, and he tucked it away like a treasured jewel to conceal it from the man he knew it would affect most, who would protest most passionately to his plans, who would do everything in his power to stop him. It would hurt the boy, God knew, but he refused to let that stop him from doing what he knew had to be done.

Will would forgive him.

Then again, perhaps that was only another lie he told himself so he could sleep.