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Regret	By : BaronNomaw Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3962 -:- 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
- 1-Regret
- 2-ch2
- 3-ch3
- 4-ch4
- 5-ch5
- 6-ch6
- 1
- 2
- 3
Two parts to this chapter: squicky, and squickier. The first part is the more squicky and the second is somewhat less, so keep that in mind if you think it’ll bother you.
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Jack’s breath was coming in high, panicked wheezes. He had been attacked in the dark, tackled but not yet beaten or robbed, and he had no idea what was going on. The throaty growl in his ear: "If it’s not me it’ll be the rest of ’em, d’you hear?" didn’t help clear anything up.
He fought with everything he had but still couldn’t get his chest up off the table. "Stop it – what are you-" It was only when his pants were yanked down that he developed a vague idea of what was coming – still only a vague one, though, because he was only thirteen (thirteen was his best guess; he didn’t know for sure) and other than a girl or two he’d hired at port while drunk, he had no bedroom experience at all… and certainly nothing that would tell him what in hell was going to happen to him now. There were whispers aboard the ship about men and men, or men and boys, but they were never the kind of whispers that suggested it would be a good idea.
"Please no," he squealed, already desperate enough to abandon his pride. "This isn’t funny, let me go, c’mon! Please?"
"Let go?" Jack recognized the voice now – Hector Barbossa, a young man with an advantage of at least five years and forty pounds. No wonder Jack couldn’t budge him. "Did you not hear me?" Barbossa pressed. "Couple of us played dice for you, and I won. Now if you don’t behave, I’ll tell ’em I don’t want you and they can all share. How would you like that? You’ll have four or five of the lads after ye day and night… lookin to do… this."
The pain was so sharp and sudden that Jack screamed at the top of his lungs – the hand over his mouth did a very incomplete job of muffling it – and when Barbossa pulled out a moment later he continued to twitch and whimper hysterically.
"Did you like that?" the voice was quiet and pitiless. "I don’t expect you did. If I let go of you now it’ll be just like that, every night – half a dozen times over." He did it again and Jack shrieked even louder than before.
Barbossa jerked away and asked over Jack’s noises, "Is that what you want? Is it?"
"No," Jack finally cried. "Ow! Ow! Of course not – stop!"
"So shall I tell the others I’ve laid claim to ye and they’d best not touch?"
Still wheezing too uncontrollably to speak, Jack finally managed to nod.
"All right. All right, hush." The vicelike grip on his hip relaxed. The hand mashed over his mouth disappeared, and moved to exert firm but gentle pressure on the back of his neck. It was almost a reassuring touch. "Good. Then you’re goin to hold still for me, aren’t you." Jack felt him pull away a little and heard him spit and then explain, "It’ll go easier if you lay still."
It was only when the pain came a third time, duller but somehow all that much worse, that Jack really registered the meaning of the bargain he had just made. Barbossa began to grind in and out of him and he was right: it was a little easier if you held still. But Jack still squirmed and moaned "Ow, nuh-uh, c’mon ow," the entire time.
When it was over and he had dressed again, Jack wiped his nose on his sleeve and said, "That was so, so mean. My God - what’d I ever do to you, mate?"
Barbossa ignored all the tears and just asked, calm as anything: "Y’all right?"
"I don’t know," Jack snapped, wounded by the lack of concern on top of everything else. "How should I know? You’ve half bloody killed me, is all I know."
"I think you’re fine." Barbossa patted him on the back and then sent him off to bed because it was late and growing boys needed their sleep.
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True to his word, Barbossa let it be known that little Jack was spoken for and saw to it that there were no other nighttime visitors to his hammock. In fact, the general leering and lewd commentary that had plagued the boy since his arrival soon died out altogether, and by the way his new friend(?) kept nursing skinned and swollen knuckles Jack had a fair idea why. That was nice. It was nice to think he was worth fighting over, nice to have a grown man’s help with jobs he was not yet strong enough to do on his own, and most especially, nice to be called lad with an easy familiarity – if not quite affection – every now and again.
All in all, Jack remained very pleased with the new arrangement so long as he remembered to pretend that the night it had been consummated was nothing but a bad dream. His bum had stopped bleeding after just a day or two, all the splinters from the table had long since worked themselves out, and, once Barbossa caught him jumping at shadows and laughed "Relax, boy, I won’t be comin after you til I’ve a real need," even his paranoia eased up some.
But of course, eventually a "real need" did develop, and Barbossa caught him by the arm after mess one night and said, "Stop by the hold before bed, understand?"
For the next hour Jack’s stomach kinked up in knots until he thought he might throw up, but the black eyes and bruised ribs of Barbossa’s rivals were reminders enough that he had better do as he was told. He showed up feeling positively ill and barely managed to wave and say hello.
Barbossa laughed at the look on his face and assured him that it was never so bad as the first time and never so bad when you’re drunk. Jack proceeded to join him on the floor and match him drink for drink until he was sprawled out on his back gesturing sloppily in the air and attempting to explain why it was not at all fitting that ships should be made of wood. Barbossa let him ramble and didn’t attempt to get a word in edgeways until the boy yawned and said it was time for bed.
"Aye, but I hope ye’ve not forgotten what comes first," Barbossa chuckled. "Hands and knees, lad. You can go to bed straight after."
"Aw, no, mate," Jack complained, hearing the words slur and unable to clear them up. "We’re ’avin such a nice time…"
"Aye, and it’ll be nicer still once I don’t feel like me britches be two-and-a-half sizes too tight. Let’s go."
Jack was manhandled into position and felt cool air on his legs and realized he had been depantsed without even noticing. He hiccupped. "Look, wait, I’m scared, come on- EH!"
Barbossa snickered at the strange sound and held still, already buried in deep. "Oil," he explained. "Makes all the difference, don’t it? Now shush."
Jack tried, he did, but oil or not he still hated it. Barbossa was pumping in and out paying no mind to the repeated ow’s and cmon mate’s which, this time, more resembled a teenager’s petulant whining than the broken sobs of a terrified and tortured child. "Stop yer bellyachin," Barbossa growled after a bit.
"You stop bellyaching me," Jack retorted. "It hurts."
"Shut up." Jack was rolling his hips forward in time with his partner’s to try and get away as much as possible. Barbossa slapped him on the ass to stop him. "Angle upways… mmm, aye." He began to go faster.
"Eugh, cmon…" He got only another slap for his trouble and so tried not to whine any more. He grit his teeth as it got harder and more painful. He broke out in a sweat and moved to wipe off his face, but Barbossa grabbed him by the wrist and kept him exactly as he was.
"No- s’good…" he panted. When Jack heard that, he tried to hold still despite the pain because it looked like at this rate it might soon be over. He hissed Gods ow once more. Barbossa let out a low moan and this time, not being completely out of his head with agony and terror, Jack actually felt him finish. He grimaced at the thoroughly disagreeable sensation… and then shrieked when his ass was roughly and suddenly vacated.
"Oy Jesus could you not do that!" he babbled in a rush and then curled up on the ground.
"What," Barbossa laughed as he put his clothes to rights, "Could I not stop, y’mean?"
"Oh, very bloody funny." Jack made no move to get up, and after a while a hand descended on his shoulder. He shrugged it off. "Yeah," he admitted grudgingly, "I’m all right."
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TBC.
I think I’m going to do the whole flashback first and then at the end post what comes of the AWE grown-up Jack seduction scene. What say you to that, eh? Thanks for the comments so far, and seriously, let me know what you want to see. I’ll post more if there’s interest.
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Regret