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Unto Your Lives' End	By : EvilE Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 2611 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2: The Night

The day passed in a flurry of drinking, dancing and merry-making. Jack was far more concerned with the first than either of the latter, but he noticed at sunset when the bride and groom disappeared. He made his way toward the prow - as far as he could get from his cabin, where he knew them to be - and cradled the bottle of rum to his chest, his mood blacker than the sails that flapped, mocking him, above his head. A good while passed as he nursed the rum, forcing himself to think of something else, anything else, anything other than what was occurring in his bed at this very moment.

He was not sure how long it had been, but it had been fully dark for quite some time when Jack became aware of the uncanny sensation of being watched. He waited in silence for another minute, looking at the sea, before he heard soft footsteps behind him.

“Festivities concluded so soon?” Jack said to the approaching person, more bitterly than he intended.

Will drew up next to him at the rail, his fine lawn shirt lifting open in the gentle breeze of the deck, and Jack caught a glimpse of fair skin stretched over thick muscle, like a Greek statue. Will did not look at him. “Not concluded.”

“Never say you haven't started?” Jack said, looking at him from the very bottoms of his eyes. “I'd have to call you a disgrace to the name of 'pirate'.”

Will only smiled, a sly smile, leaning his elbows on the rail. “Give me a sip of rum, will you, Jack?”

Jack thrust the bottle at him, deciding that he'd had enough. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach. Despite all their late-night conversations recently, during which Jack had developed what he might term a reasonable degree of tolerance for the boy, he still couldn't help wishing Will would disappear, fall through the boards of the deck, anything to stop reminding him of what he could never have. And yet he couldn't stop himself from talking - a problem which plagued him frequently. “Did you remember what I told you?”

“'Course I did.” Will tilted the bottle to his lips, still smiling a little.

“Did it work?”

“Eventually.”

“You'll need more practice.”

“I'll have it, once I return safe and sound from my task,” Will said, watching as Cotton walked behind them and crossed the deck, heading belowstairs. “And provided I don't lose my tongue in the process.”

Jack would have laughed. He tried to, pulling his lips back in a wide smile as he lifted the bottle to his lips. It sloshed, but he couldn't make himself drink any. “She's asleep, then?”

“No, she wanted to wash, a little... in private.”

“Ah.” So they'd done the deed, then. Jack felt another twinge of nausea, and told himself he should be relieved that his ridiculous fantasies of taking Elizabeth's virginity were now forever sunk. He clapped a hand on Will's shoulder, surprised at the amount of tension he felt in the muscles, there. “Well, I'll be off to a hammock below, then, since it's late.” He peered down at Will one last time, detecting a shadow of worry on his face. “Unless there's anything else?” Once again, it sounded sarcastic... which it was, sort of... he really had to get a hold of himself.

Will turned to look at him, and Jack couldn't help noticing the intensity of his gaze as it met his, held for a moment, and then fell along his body down to his hand, where he still held the bottle of rum. There were two, perhaps three full inches of amber liquid in the bottom. Jack held it out to him. “Take it. A wedding present.”

Will took it from him, wrapping his hand around the middle of it, instead of taking the neck directly from Jack, as he should have done. It occurred to Jack that perhaps something had changed. Maybe something small, but Will was a little different. Jumpier. Avoiding his gaze, avoiding the most casual touch. Jack thought he'd figured Will out, that the good boy in him wanted to marry Elizabeth, and the pirate in him wanted to follow Jack off to adventure, and every once in a while there was some kind of inner battle, like the one he saw Will fighting as he struggled to find words. Finally he spoke. “Jack,” he said softly. “Thank you for everything you've done... for us.”

Jack eyed him warily, certain that pleasantries were not the only thing occupying Will's mind. “'T was nothing. Can I go to bed now?”

“Just one more thing.”

“Yes?”

Will turned his head toward him, and Jack received another of those long, hard looks... but this one never reached up to his face. Slow and regretful... and something else, too. Hungry... Jack barely had time to register the thought before Will spoke again.

“Um... just that Elizabeth wanted to express her gratitude, also.”

“Touching.” Jack stared at the younger man, now curiously intrigued. “Relay my regards.”

“Relay them yourself,” Will answered, looking out at the sea. “She'll have finished washing, by now.”

Jack's pulse began to pound, and he tilted his head, not certain if he had heard right, if he had missed something. “You can't mean... presently?”

“Yes, presently. Go in and see her, before you retire for the night.” Will took another sip from the bottle, without looking at Jack.

Jack stared, hearing the rush of blood in his ears, wanting to believe he understood... wanting to believe it, too much. “Will. You're telling me to go into the cabin - my cabin - where your new bride is waiting, to express her gratitude?”

“That's exactly what I'm saying.”

“And just what form do you anticipate this gratitude is going to take?” Jack said, narrowing his eyes at Will.

“Whatever form you like,” Will replied, and finally turned to face him. His expression was warm, and his brown eyes held a spark of mischief.

Jack gripped the rail, hard, glad it was made of firm, solid wood. “Will you be... joining us?” he asked matter-of-factly, as though he were inviting him to tea.

Will held the bottle in front of his face, examining it. “I'm going to drink the rest of this. When the rum is gone, I'll be coming back.” There was a long pause.

“Will you knock?” Jack said in a low, even voice.

“No,” Will replied, lifting the bottle to his lips and drinking.

Jack nodded, and turned away, leaving Will to drink at the rail. He forced himself to walk, not run, across the deck to his cabin. Before opening the door, he took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. What would he find when he went inside... would she be dressed, or naked, or... He opened the door and it creaked. He called softly, “Elizabeth?”

“Jack?” came the immediate reply.

He walked inside, feeling as though he were intruding, even though it was his own cabin. Three candles burned on the table, two half gone and one freshly lit. Then he saw her, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking nervous.

She was wrapped in the sheet - a dressing gown was not a luxury afforded to her at present - and she hadn't bothered to don her chemise or dress. He saw relief play across her face, before he turned to close the door, and crossed the room to her. She seemed to blush as she drew the sheet tighter around herself.

“Will tells me... you've some gratitude to express,” he said, unable to stop looking at her, taking in every exposed inch of creamy skin and tawny hair.

“Is that what he said?” she said in a teasing tone, rising to stand in front of him. She placed a hand on his chest between the sides of his open collar.

His breath caught. “Elizabeth... are you entirely sure about this?” Jack furrowed his brows at her, suspiciously. “Whose idea was this, anyway?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?” she said, lifting her chin to grin almost against his lips.

He kissed her, then. He didn't care that she'd probably been kissing Will for the better part of the last hour. He didn't care that the room smelled faintly of sweat and sex and that there was a triangular spot of blood on the sheet she wore. He cared only that Elizabeth was warm and in his arms and the curve of her breast was pressing against his chest through the sheet. He eventually broke the kiss to say, “Elizabeth... what do you think is going to happen when Will comes back?”

She regarded him, and her cheeks grew pinker. “I - I don't know.”

“If you like, I shall consider your gratitude fully expressed, and make me way below for the night.”

“No,” she replied in a low, magnetic whisper. “No. Please stay.” She threw her arms around his neck, and he kissed her again.

“All right, then,” he murmured between kisses. “Since you insist.” He pulled the top of the sheet down so that it fell around her waist. He drew his fingertips up her bare back, and she shuddered.

“Aren't you sore?” he asked as he began to inch her toward the bed, tugging at the sheet.

“I don't care,” she breathed, and when the backs of her legs met the bed she fell backwards onto it, pulling him with her. He struggled out of his shirt while bending to take a nipple in his mouth. Her cry of satisfaction further heightened the hot rush of arousal that was racing through his entire body.

Will's heart pounded as he quietly opened the door to the cabin, unsure what he would find when he entered. He held the empty bottle of rum in his hand, and the glass was warm to the touch. The first thing he saw was the sheet, in a heap a few feet from the bed. Something dark - Jack's breeches? - lay nearby. Will's mouth went dry. They were naked in here. One, the woman he loved... the other, a man he regarded with equal parts admiration and wary suspicion.

He closed the door, latched it, and walked over to the table, where the candles burned. He set the bottle upon it, aware of a single sound in the dim room: the repetitive creaking of the bed. He turned.

There they were, right in front of him. He looked them over, starting from where Jack's knees ground rhythmically into the mattress. Elizabeth's thighs were pale in contrast to the bronze of Jack's lean hips and muscle-ridged side, as they rocked against one another. Their upper bodies contrasted as well, pressed against each other, his deeply tanned, hers ivory. Her nipple was just hidden under Jack's bicep. Her face was a picture of extraordinary pleasure, her eyes closed tightly, her mouth open as though in shock as she gasped for breath.

He had thought it might bother him to see them, together, but he had been willing to put that aside, for several reasons. Instead, he realized, as he watched them on the bed, that it was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen... or could have imagined. He was hard again in a scant minute. And after all, it was his little joke that had brought the idea out in the open an hour before.

Elizabeth had been curled against him, naked, as he lay on his back, recounting his conversation with Jack. When I asked him, he laughed and said he'd never been asked to marry one person, let alone two. But he did end up marrying us, after all.

Elizabeth had turned bright eyes upon him. So if he's married us, doesn't that mean we ought to invite him to share the wedding night, as well?

Only if I get to watch you, Will had quickly replied with a smile. Too quickly. Both of their smiles faded and they regarded at each other with disquieting sobriety.

As he watched them gyrating together on the bed, by all appearances oblivious to anything except each other, he wondered how long it would be before either of them realized he was there. He felt light-headed. He needed to sit down.

He looked around for the closest chair, seeing one beside the table Jack worked at, and he crossed the room in three strides to pick it up and carry it back to where he could watch them. He placed the chair about three feet from the head of the bed, hidden in shadow. He sat down to watch.

Elizabeth heard the noise of the chair and opened her eyes, and he saw they were glazed with desire as she looked at him over Jack's shoulder. It seemed to Will as though she wanted to say something, wanted to draw him in, or tell him something, but no words came.

Will smiled at her, folded his hands under his chin, and rested his elbows on his spread knees. She must have whispered something to Jack, because he raised his head from where he had buried his face in Elizabeth's shoulder, and turned to look straight at Will. He paused in mid-thrust, his expression blank. Will looked back at him with raised eyebrows, as if to say, Well? and then Elizabeth lifted her hips to draw him back inside her. His eyes rolled back and he fell again to driving himself into her.

Will roughly shoved a hand down his breeches and began to stroke himself. He could have done it earlier, but he had been so fascinated by watching them that he hadn't thought of it. He noticed Jack's thrusts were becoming more urgent, less lithe and graceful. Elizabeth, too, was growing wild, and all of a sudden Jack rocked against her with a series of short, shallow thrusts that elicited screams from her open mouth... Will listened, somehow both pleased and disappointed that Jack had made her scream - the best he'd managed so far was a series of whimpers - but it excited him nonetheless, and he reminded himself he'd have plenty of time to rectify that later. The rest of his life. He suddenly felt as though he were in a race with Jack, and began to move his fist faster, looking up to see that Jack had stilled, and was shaking as he held himself above Elizabeth, an contorted expression of pleasure on his face. He sighed. Jack had won. And he was sitting in the chair with the biggest erection of his life bursting out of his unbuttoned trousers. The room felt like the inside of an oven to Will. He quickly shrugged out of his loosened shirt.

“Will,” Elizabeth croaked, reaching out a pale hand toward him.

He rose and walked over to the bed, averting his eyes from Jack's nakedness as he leaned back on his haunches. Will seated himself next to her shoulder. “You're breathtaking,” he told her, trailing a hand over her shoulder and down the middle of her chest, which was damp with sweat. He stood to shed his breeches before sitting down again, watching Elizabeth catch her breath. He knew what he wanted to do, but still he hesitated.

Jack snorted from his position at the foot of the bed, where he lounged like a jungle cat at rest. “Well, go on - your turn again.”

“Wait, I... well, now it hurts,” Elizabeth said, sitting up on her elbows.

“I'll bet,” Jack said dryly. “Need a rest, eh, love?”

“I'm sorry,” she said, looking up at Will. “Perhaps... in a little while?”

“Don't be sorry,” he said softly, brushing a wet strand of hair out of her face.

“You two make me sick,” Jack said, sitting up and tucking his ankles beneath his knees. “First of all, a little cool water will have her feeling right as rain in no time... or at least, a lot better. Secondly, we can take care of that -“ he nodded at Will's sword-straight hard-on “in the meantime.”

“I don't know what you mean,” Will said, cautiously optimistic.

“I'll bet you don't.” Jack leaned forward to tap Elizabeth's bottom with his palm. “Turn over.” She obeyed, after a curious glance at Will. “Now, get up on your knees.” She did so, and Will turned to slide in front of her. Jack swung his legs under him and stood, walking over next to Will. He laid his hand on the back of Elizabeth's head. “Open your mouth,” he ordered. She did, and he guided her lips down over Will's swollen prick, about halfway. “Good. Do that again, over and over, so forth and so on, and away we go.”

He turned and walked toward the washbasin sitting on a side table, fishing out the rag and wringing it as he listened to Will's intense groan of pleasure. He dipped and wrung it out several times before hearing Will's breathing become deeper, more controlled. The boy was really doing quite well, for an amateur. Jack permitted himself to think perhaps Will was taking after him, as he turned and walked back toward the bed, carrying the bowl under his arm, clad only in his bandanna.

He sat behind Elizabeth and parted her legs with his palm, reaching in to hold the cool cloth against her folds. She started, and Will groaned. Jack chuckled. Well, as long as she didn't bite it off... then the boy really would be... as they say. He wet the rag again and then pressed it against her, firmly, nudging her folds apart to where she undoubtedly burned and was sore. He did this several more times, for a few long minutes, until she stopped whimpering. After tossing the rag in the bowl and setting it on the floor, he turned to look at the two of them. Will, his eyes closed, his mouth set in a hard, controlled line. Elizabeth...

He began to stroke himself with his left hand, leaning over behind Elizabeth again. Not sure if he was going too far, too fast, but unable to stop himself, he brushed her folds with a fingertip, and she arched against him. Will groaned. He probed a bit deeper, taking care to be gentle, and he found her hot and moist in the center... she was ready again. God bless young women, he thought as he inserted another finger, curling them toward the front of her body, watching as she pushed back against him and then rocked forward onto Will... she moaned, and then Will moaned... and it was a very delicious cycle, that he could control with just two fingers in the right place.

Jack couldn't wait any more, having her so close, knowing how ready she was, and he climbed up behind her and positioned himself at her center. He looked at Will, whose eyes fluttered upon and lit upon him. Would he share her? Jack wondered as he pressed deep inside, holding tightly to Elizabeth's hips. He would, it seemed, from the expression of pleasure on his face. When Jack thrust forward, he moved her forward onto Will... more deeply than before, Jack guessed, for Will drew in his breath and hissed, “Christ, Elizabeth.”

Watch, Jack mouthed to Will as the young man's eyes met his again. He snaked an arm around Elizabeth's hip to stroke her belly with his palm, once, before reaching down farther, to touch her where they joined. She moaned, lifting her hips in wordless supplication.

Will watched Jack touching Elizabeth with rapt interest. He understood the lesson: she enjoyed it more when she was touched... or else, she enjoyed it more when it was Jack; but he pushed the jealous thought away and concentrated on the feeling of her warm mouth upon him, deeper with every thrust of Jack's. It occurred to him that it was as though Jack were fucking him... and with that thought, Will took a deep breath, trying to relax. He tucked a hand behind his head and leaned back against the wall, his eyes half-open.

“Aren't you done yet?” Jack whispered to him, his voice a harsh rasp.

“Aren't you?” he shot back. To his dismay, Elizabeth lifted her lips off of him.

“Is this some kind of contest?” she said sharply. “Because I'm getting tired.”

“Is that so?” Jack said in a dangerous low tone, and leaned over her. “You're going to be bloody exhausted by the time we're through, darling.” As if to prove his point, he drove into her harder, and she whimpered.

“Is he hurting you?” Will asked, suddenly concerned.

She shook her head mutely. No.

Will sighed as he watched them for a few more seconds, before he looked up at Jack. “All right, Jack, turnabout's fair play. Time to switch.”

Jack opened his eyes wide, looking around for a moment before tilting his head in acquiescence, climbing down and walking to sit at the head of the bed, in front of Elizabeth, as Will got up. “Hello, love,” he said. She looked up at him with eyes that were clear and passion-filled.

“I can't do that any more,” she said, her eyes falling on what was jutting from between his legs. “My jaw is aching.”

“Then use your hands,” Will said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“How do I...” She moved her fingertips over Jack, tentatively squeezing the head.

“Like this,” Will said, wrapping his hand around hers. He stroked downward, firmly, and Jack shot him a teasing look.

“Thought this out, have you?” he quipped.

“Hardly,” Will replied, guiding Elizabeth's hand down on Jack one more time before walking around to climb up behind her. When he entered her, Elizabeth could not balance on one hand, and Jack gripped her upper arms to steady her, pulling her against him. He lifted her till her hands were on his shoulders, and Will moved forward to follow her. She straddled Will's lap as he bent his knees behind her, and his thrusts were deep and sure.

Will looked up to see Jack watching him over Elizabeth's shoulder. Touch her, Jack said silently by forming the words with his lips.

Will reached around to rub her just above where he was entering her. She sighed and ground back against him. Jack kissed her on the mouth, fully, deeply, as Will bounced her against Jack's lips. He was connecting with Jack's mouth, through her, which for some reason he found almost unbearably erotic. He saw Jack whispering in her ear, and he thought he was probably saying something untoward... not that the situation could get any more untoward.

“I can't,” he heard her say back, and then Jack again: “Please, love, for me?”

He watched as Elizabeth - his wife, he thought with sudden recollection - let go of Jack's shoulders to slide down his chest and torso, and take Jack into her mouth. Jack smiled, broadly with all gold teeth, at Will, and he knew why; he was gloating over having gotten her to continue, for him, where she had refused Will. But that thought faded and was soon replaced by another one... that he was now fucking Jack with every thrust, that he - through Elizabeth - was the cause of the satisfied expression on Jack's face.

Jack wondered what Will was waiting for, as he reveled in the blissful sensation of having Elizabeth make love to him with her mouth. How could he have lasted so long through this? He looked at him, and saw that Will was looking back, hotly, as he drove Elizabeth further onto his cock with every thrust.

Jack was in heaven. To go from the pit of despair, to this, was a stroke of luck even he'd never dared to dream for himself. Not like this. He couldn't believe it was happening, really, any of it; but whatever it was, it was happening... and it was happening now.

He lifted Elizabeth's face off of him, wrapping an arm around her as he pumped himself with his other hand, and came with a long groan, letting his head fall backward against the wall.

“Jack! Jack,” Elizabeth panted, her hands fluttering over his shoulders.

“I'm here, love,” he murmured, catching hold of her as she began to shake uncontrollably. He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her face away, and instead began to cry out against his cheek.

“Jack, Jack, Jack,” she said in a nearly silent whisper, her lips forming the words against his face. Jack's eyes widened and he looked at Will to see if he'd heard - after all, it wasn't his name she ought to be crying out just then, but she was - and if Will had heard, he gave no indication, and continued to grind against her slowly, surely. She screamed, low in her throat, and Will had to have heard that, had to know she was coming. For whomever had caused it. Both of them.

Jack looked at Will over Elizabeth's trembling shoulder. Go on, he mouthed.

“Kiss her,” Will commanded in a harsh whisper.

Jack was only too happy to oblige, capturing Elizabeth's mouth in a deep, wet kiss while flicking his eyes open to look back at Will. Will watched them, picking up his pace and seeming to lose a little more control. Jack wondered about it... and then he realized that it wasn't for Elizabeth Will had asked, but for himself; and as he nibbled Elizabeth's lips and tongue, he looked at Will, and he wondered if that little revelation might be applied to the entire bizarre scenario. Whose idea, indeed... He took his mouth from hers, lowered his chin and fixed a truly evil look upon Will.

“Don't need a compass to know what you really want, William,” he whispered.

It was too much for Will. He could deny it, but Jack knew, he always knew... it sent Will rocketing over the edge, and he held fast to Elizabeth's hips as he came, and came, and came, not groaning but shaking, his teeth clenched and his eyes squeezed shut. He collapsed against her and the three of them slipped sideways onto the bed, slick with sweat. The room was silent except for their breathing, which gradually calmed and returned to normal.

After a long moment, Jack leaned over to get the sheet from the floor and shook it out, covering the two of them, before rolling out and getting to his feet. He picked up his breeches from the floor.

“Where're you going?” said Elizabeth in a plaintive whisper.

“To bed.”

“No... stay,” she protested, reaching out toward him.

He looked over at Will, whose eyes were closed, an arm thrown possessively over Elizabeth's waist. “Will, are you awake?”

“Mmm.”

“Elizabeth wants me to stay the night.”

“Mmmphfine,” Will murmured into the pillow. “Blow out the candles.”

Jack did so, and then climbed back in, kissing the lips Elizabeth offered to him as she draped an arm over his shoulder, and a leg over his thigh. A soft snore, from Will.

“I love the smell after a candle's gone out,” she whispered, so softly Jack could barely hear.

“Me too, love,” he answered. In another moment, like any well-satisfied man, he quickly fell asleep.
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Unto Your Lives' End