Even Heroes Need Holidays | By : ainsoph15 Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Slash - Male/Male > Jack/Will Views: 1845 -:- 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. |
Even Heroes Need Holidays
“Hot.”
“Mmm. Another swim?” Will said, languidly rolling onto his stomach on the blanket next to Jack.
“Later. I was thinkin’ maybe somethin’ more… vigorous, for now.”
Will gave a long sigh.
“Not just yet, Jack. Much as I hate to refuse you.” He shifted closer and dropped a conciliatory kiss and a tiny lick on the bare, bronze curve of Jack’s shoulder, slippery in the heat. Jack smiled at him wryly and waggled his eyebrows. Will sighed again.
“I’m not an automaton. Give me another half hour, then ask me again and I’ll say yes.”
“I weren’t suggestin’ that, actually, nor was I castin’ aspersions on your stamina. Much as it might shock you, even I, lusty old git that I am in the presence of an Adonis such as yerself, need a little time to recover.”
“Ah,” Will breathed, bestowing another kiss on Jack’s shoulder, “I did think it was a little extreme, even for you. Besides, I think everything might still be a bit,” Will ducked his head and his mouth twitched uncomfortably. “…sandy.”
Jack snorted, turning onto his side to fling a sandy arm over the sandy ex-smith, and drew him in for a languorous kiss. The cicadas chirruped softly in the overhanging trees, unnoticed by the two men lost in the wet heat of each others mouths and tongues. Will eventually pulled back, licking his lips, still not quite believing Jack didn’t want what he always wanted.
“What exactly are you proposing, then?” he queried, then jumped when he felt Jack pouring a handful of warm sand into the middle of his sticky back.
“Hey! What did you do that for?!” Will sat up crossly, attempting to brush himself clean and only succeeding in spreading the diabolical stuff further across himself, and all over his hands too.
“Sand. Savvy?” Jack said, nodding sagely as though he was imparting a great secret. Will stared down at him. Granted, it was a particularly hot day on the little island they had chosen for a few days sojourn while the Pearl headed off for more supplies, but really, it wasn’t any warmer than Jack was used to. Will was suddenly perturbed that Jack might have finally succumbed to a combination of too much rum, fun and sunstroke, and now Will would have to spend the rest of his holiday stuck on the island with a retarded, sand-obsessed sex-fiend.
“Yes, Jack.” Will spoke slowly, eyebrows quirked in consternation. “It is sand.”
Jack looked at Will as if he was stupid.
If he’s looking at me like that, then he’s not any crazier. Just the same evasive scoundrel as always.
“And what do we do with the sand, Jack? Other than get it in places it was never meant to go?”
Will watched Jack’s stomach muscles clench, and he sat up in one fluid motion, bringing his face a few inches from Will’s.
“When was the last time, my sweet Will,” Jack began, toying with a lock of Will’s hair that had escape the thong binding it back, his voice a seductive rumble, “that you built a sandcastle?”
Oh. I might have to reconsider that he’s not gone completely moony this time.
“Jack, you can’t be serious,” Will implored, shaking his head.
“I am absolutely and undoubtedly suggestin’ that we, you and I, spend some time on this wond’ful afternoon buildin’ sandcastles, until such time that we are both capable of doin’ somethin’ else. We’ve even got buckets and spades!”
This was true. They had pails to collect water from the nearby stream, and had brought spades to dig a pit for the fire. This, however, was not quite enough evidence to convince Will that it was a good idea.
“Why would you want us to do that?”
“Because, dear William. It. Will. Be. Fun. And because I have run out of options to keep us entertained other than reamin’ each other ragged again. And because I will build a sandcastle that is both bigger and better than yours.”
“Huh. I’d like to say that your challenge is lost on me. But since I don’t want to spend the rest of today with you whinging, I’ll accept that challenge.”
Jack smirked as Will stood up, then his face fell as Will brushed as much of the sand off himself as he could, before bending down to retrieve his breeches and pulling them on again.
“Wha’ do you wanna go doin’ a thing like that for?” Jack pouted, looking pointedly at the offensive breeches.
“If either of us is to take this idea of yours seriously, then we don’t need any other distractions, do we,” Will countered, draping Jack’s own abandoned breeches over the naked form on the blanket.
“Oh fine. Spoilsport. I’ll just have to imagine you naked then,” Jack said, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief couple of seconds before he grinned broadly. “There. That was too easy.”
“Just so long as your not suggesting that I am,” Will said, turning away to gather up the necessary tools of bucket and shovel before reluctantly leaving the fragrant shade of the fig trees, and setting off to find a suitable spot on the scorching beach to begin his task, trying not to hop as the sand burned his feet.
“No, William,” Jack shot back, “I’m happy to find that you are usually quite pleasantly hard… I mean, that is to say, difficult.”
***
Jack glared at the rather odd-looking monstrosity of sand in front of him. It had started out so well. He had packed together the basic structure in a pile, then had begun to drip wet sand over the top to create a series of fairytale minarets and spires, the runnels of sand dripping down the sides and making it look like the ancient, delicate structures found on the floor of caverns. However, he had got a little carried away. More and more steeples appeared, melding and twisting in macabre spikes. Now it wouldn’t have been out of place in a Hieronymus Bosch painting. With a resigned sigh, Jack gave up on the gruesome thing and stood up.
He strolled over to look at Will’s effort, and saw that Will had managed to create what looked like a miniature fortress with several turrets, a moat, and to top it off, a working drawbridge made of driftwood. Will was just putting the finishing touch to his creation as Jack approached – a small clam shell with two crossed fragments of seaweed as a coat of arms above the archway of the castle. He gave Jack a smug smile as he stood up to survey his finished product. Jack’s moustache twitched.
“It’s a bit… literal, ain’t it mate?”
“What? It’s a sandcastle.” He craned his head to look at Jack’s teetering, somewhat nightmarish structure on the other side of the beach. “Yours is very… uh… interesting.”
“Piss off,” Jack said sullenly.
“Actually, that’s precisely what I was about to do. Back in a moment,” Will said cheekily, before setting off across the sand dunes. He turned over his shoulder and called out,
“Does this mean you think mine’s better than yours?”
“You won’t be so biggety when I leave you on this island with naught but your bloody chateau for company,” Jack grumbled at Will’s retreating form.
“Provided you get rid of yours before you abandon me. I won’t be able to sleep a wink with that thing anywhere near me,” came the reply, as Will’s head disappeared amongst the dunes.
Jack turned and surveyed Will’s crenellated structure with irritation. He experimentally stuck out a toe and jabbed it into the side leaving a dent, watching as a little cascade of wet sand tumbled downwards. Once again the mendacious toe flicked another few grains out of the previously smooth side. Jack looked at the results of his vandalism with a resigned sigh.
He’s gonna know I’ve been pokin’ at it anyway now. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
It didn’t occur to Jack that since the structure was made of sand, and there was a considerable wealth of the stuff surrounding him, that it would have been a matter of seconds to repair the damage.
He was going to spend quite some time wishing he had thought of that.
Glancing around to check that Will was nowhere in sight, Jack turned his face away from the doomed fort, as though the innocent expression on his face and the fact that he couldn’t see what he was doing would somehow mean he had taken no part in what was about to occur. He nonchalantly drew a circle in the sand with his toes, before aiming a swift kick at the base of the castle.
An unexpected pain shot through his toe as it came into contact with something hard and unyielding, and Jack shrieked in surprise.
At the first yell, Will hurriedly buttoned up his breeches and came galloping back over the dunes to see what had happened. He stopped when he saw Jack hopping up and down clutching his foot, and the wall breached on one side of his masterpiece.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! William-bloody-Turner, you insufferable git! You’ve only gone an’ put a soddin’ great rock in the middle of it!”
Will folded his arms and regarded Jack with a disapproving frown.
“What? Do you expect any sympathy from me? An enduring structure requires a solid foundation. Besides, I know you well enough by now to anticipate that you might do something like this, so I took the necessary precautions. You shouldn’t have been trying to kick it over on the quiet, should you.”
“It really hurts,” Jack said quietly, his dark eyes wide and mournful.
“Oh, stop messing around! See, this is what happens when we play games intended for kids. It turns us into children as well,” Will said with an even deeper scowl. Jack sat down carefully, his face drawn, and pulled his foot nearer his face to scrutinize it worriedly.
“I’m not messin’. I… I think it’s broken.” He looked up at Will, whose scowl was rapidly turning into a concerned series of furrows on his forehead, and Will could have sworn Jack’s lip trembled.
Will dropped to his knees in the sand next to Jack, and inspected the end of the big toe.
“Surely you’ve endured worse? What about when you got shot, or stabbed, or eaten alive?”
“Those ain’t the same thing at all! There’s loads of nerve endin’s in me foot, so it hurts much more!”
“Can you move it?”
“Course I can’t bloody move it, it’s broken!”
“Jack, will you at least try to move it?” Will spoke sternly, all traces of sarcasm erased from his tone.
Jack extended his leg and appraised the toe. He made a feeble attempt to wiggle it, then squeezed his eyes shut and gasped, reaching out for Will’s hand and crushing it between his fingers.
“Jack!” Will edged nearer, shaking his hand free and putting an arm round Jack’s shoulder to comfort him.
Oh, what have I gone and done?
“Jack, I’m so sorry. It was only meant to be a stupid joke. I never intended… this.”
Jack’s eyes blinked open, and he looked at Will accusingly.
“There’s only one thing for it, mate,” he said gravely, his eyes flicking down to Will’s mouth. “You’re gonna have to kiss it better.”
Jack, agile as always, shifted slightly and bent his knee, proffering his foot out in front of Will’s surprised face.
“What? That’s ridiculous. I am not putting your bloody great foot anywhere near my mouth. It’s all covered in sand for starters, and once I get through that, God only knows what I’ll find underneath. I suggest we do something more practical, like put it in a splint.”
Jack seemed to suffer a momentary fit of deafness regarding the sensible advice, choosing instead to focus on his original method of healing.
“William, you know full well that I have spent much of today frolickin’ with you in the surf, so there ain’t nothin’ more on my foot that salt an’ seawater, same as yours. After you get used to the crunch of the sand, it won’t be too bad.”
“I’m not about to go sticking my own foot in my mouth to prove a point.”
Jack looked suddenly pained and went quite red in the face, biting down hard on his lip and clutching his ribcage with his free arm, rocking forwards slightly so his face was half-hidden by his hair.
Will grimaced. Jack did seem to be in a lot of pain.
“Jack?” He rubbed at the shoulder, which seemed to be trembling slightly. Jack took a deep breath, and seemed to regain some control over himself again.
“Please, Will. It’ll make me feel better,” Jack whispered plaintively. He lifted his foot again.
“I don’t know where you get these ideas from. We’ll still need to splint it, somehow,” Will said, shaking his head but relenting slightly. Jack wriggled his toes by way of encouragement, dropping a small pile of sand into Will’s lap in the process.
“Go on, luv,” he pouted.
Will regarded the foot thoughtfully, his cheeks hollowing as he looked from the foot, to Jack, and back to the foot again, then to the pile of sand accumulating on his breeches.
“Hmm,” Will said archly. “Looks like you can move that toe after all, so it’s not broken, is it.”
His hand came up swiftly, grabbing Jack by the ankle and lifting the foot up in the air, pushing it backwards so that even Jack, flexible as he was, felt the stretch in his tendons and started to lean back towards the sand to alleviate the strain.
“Will, what are you doin’?” Jack yelped as his plan came undone. Will forced him further onto his back, and Jack grabbed at the hands gripping at his shoulder and ankle, noting the determinedly grim expression on Will’s face with some trepidation.
“Will, luv, it was a joke,” Jack cajoled, as his head dropped the final few inches down onto the sand, one leg still high in the air. He could easily have struggled and tried to throw Will off him, of course, but the menacing look on Will’s face was far too intriguing for Jack to do anything as mood-shattering as fighting back. Besides, he knew Will would never hurt him (not anymore, that is. Unless, of course, Jack insisted on it.)
Will leaned over him, forcing Jack’s straightened leg up towards his shoulder. It was starting to tremble slightly, though that had more to do with what Will was doing, rather than because Jack was feeling any pain. In fact, now that he was lying down, he was quite comfortable, and just to prove as much, he flexed his thigh and drew his leg up closer to his head, interlacing his fingers with Will’s and bringing Will’s hand along with it.
Will narrowed his eyes, unimpressed, and bent down further, leaning on Jack’s shoulder and putting his mouth close to Jack’s ear.
“You should know better than to take advantage of my concern for you,” Will said in a harsh growl that made Jack’s stomach flip a few times. Jack turned his head and the tip of his nose brushed against Will’s.
“’M sorry, darlin’. I was only playin’,” Jack whispered, edging towards Will’s lips as he felt the thumb pressing into his ankle bone start to make small spiralling movements. He squeezed the fingers between his affectionately. Will jerked away and sat up again, shaking his head slowly.
“Oh no you don’t, Jack. You don’t get away with it that easily. If you do things like this…” Will released his grip on Jack’s shoulder, and brought his hand up to run a finger across the tip of the metatarsal at the centre of all this duplicity, making Jack shiver slightly, “then you’ll end up like the pirate who cried…” Will paused for a moment, trying to think of the appropriate analogy.
“The pirate who cried ‘leak’,” Will finally said, looking somewhat dissatisfied with his choice of word.
“Hmm, very snappy,” Jack said sardonically. “I’d’ve said, ‘parlay’, meself.”
“You always do.”
“Oh, you wound me.” Jack pressed a hand to his breast and rolled his eyes, pretending to sniffle.
“You won’t be laughing if I don’t come to your rescue any more because I think you’re fibbing. Then you’ll just be the pirate who cried. Full stop.”
Jack snorted before he could stop himself, and he saw a flicker of humour slightly soften Will’s expression.
“You do know I’m not done with you yet, don’t you?” Will said, pinching Jack’s littlest toe.
“Ooh!” Jack jumped at the sensation, then gave Will a lascivious grin. “I was sort of countin’ on it.” This made Will’s lip quirk, tweaking his moustache up at the corner, but his tone remained stern.
“I’m going to make sure you don’t pull a stunt like that again, and make me feel guilty and worried unduly.”
“I cannot assure you that I will never make you faint with concern again, dear William, but I do give you my word as a pirate, that I will bear any an’ all consequences an’ punishments that former blacksmiths with uncannily talented hands an’ an inexplicable lust for justice see fit to exact upon me, with dignity, honour, an’ a retribution plan.”
“You don’t know what I’m going to do to you, yet. You might regret saying that.” Will pinched another toe.
“Ah! No, I don’t know yet.” Jack said, and nonchalantly tucked his hands up behind his head, swinging his leg up and down again a couple of times to keep the blood moving. “But I’m sure it’ll be marvellous.”
***
Jack could see Will was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He tilted his head to the side and gave Will a lazy smile. A few more of those salt-spun curls that Jack liked so much had broken free of their moorings and framed Will’s face. Jack reached up and lightly brushed Will’s cheek, and Will unconsciously half-closed his eyes and nudged towards the gentle touch.
“You are lovely, you know,” Jack whispered. Will opened his eyes again, and glanced at the foot he was still holding, brushing the ochre-coloured grains with his free hand off the much-maligned big toe.
“And you know I’m still annoyed with you,” Will said, rising up on to his knees, his tone softer now as he looked down at Jack.
“Aye,” Jack nodded, his eyes meeting Will’s. Will held his gaze as he briefly dipped his head and planted a single, coy kiss onto the very end of the big toe. While Jack was occupied with giving him a slightly startled grin, Will swivelled round on one knee, turning and lifting his other leg across Jack to straddle his chest, so he was facing away from him. He kept up the grip on the ankle, bending Jack’s leg at the knee and drawing it up against his chest.
“Hey!” Jack exclaimed, taken aback, but also quite delighted at the rather pleasant surprise of suddenly having Will’s rear end only inches away from his face. He slicked his thumb through the beads of sweat running down Will’s arched spine, then put it into his mouth.
“This ain’t bad at all”, he mused, bringing his hands down to cup Will’s arse, squeezing him through the entirely unnecessary breeches.
And that’s when it started. One minute, Jack was happily considering which arsecheek to bite first, and the next, he was breathless and helpless and writhing uncontrollably under Will’s weight.
Will held the struggling, squirming foot in a vice-like grip, and brushed his fingers over the instep again. He listened with a smile to Jack’s gasps and entreaties, before he attacked the foot in earnest, alternately pressing the pads of his fingers into the sensitive flesh, or barely scraping it with his fingernails. Jack was positively squealing.
“Oh, fer Chrissakes… Haaa! Jesus, Will… Hee! Have mercy, would you?... Oh God, oh God. Nnngh. Not there… NO! Not there! Oh, can’t breathe. Get those bloody bastard fingers off me right noooOOOWWW! That… that’s an order!”
Will was laughing uncontrollably now, riding the bucking body under him, his knees pressed into Jack’s ribcage, squeezing most of the much-needed air out of Jack’s lungs.
“I thought you promised you’d take any and all punishments I saw fit to exact upon you?”
“Hnh. Eee! My promise as a pirate. To take it with dignity. This precludes… ah… Ah! Any possibility for that!”
“Did you think I didn’t notice your usual clause? Promise you won’t do it again,” giggled Will, redoubling his attack. “Give me your promise as Jack.”
“Oh Christ, you evil fucker. I even seem to remember complimentin’ you on those infernal… oh, wait, tha’s quite nice actually…mmm… AH! That’s not! Damn those fingers of yours, Turner, if this is how you use ‘em!”
“Concede.”
“No!” Jack yelled, gripping onto the hips squirming in front of him, which were driving him almost as mad as the attack on his foot.
Then he had an idea. Instead of trying to wrench his foot away from Will’s grip, which obviously wasn’t working, he tensed all the muscles in his leg and slammed it towards the ground, pitching Will off-balance so that he sprawled forwards, finally letting go in a reflex reaction so he could put his hands out to break his fall.
“Oof!”
Will landed with his head between Jack’s feet, splayed over the length of Jack’s prone form, his calves either side of Jack’s shoulders.
Jack raised his head triumphantly.
“Ha! Serves you right!” He lifted one of the hands that were still clutching Will by the hips, and with the flat of his palm aimed a resounding smack right across Will’s arse.
“Jack!” The back of Will’s head shot up into view, and he wriggled, yet made no effort to get up off him.
“Don’t be gettin’ all indignant with me now, young Mr Turner,” Jack crowed, rubbing the spot on Will’s arse in slow circles. Will was performing a similarly soothing action on the long-held ankle, and Jack twitched his foot, hearing the joint crack satisfyingly. Will didn’t reply, so Jack smacked him again. “It ain’t like you’ve never been on the receivin’ end of a spank before. Or the givin’ end, for that matter,” Jack said with a grin.
“I wasn’t actually making any objections,” Will said in a low voice, then he wriggled again slowly, deliberately grinding his hips against Jack’s. And Jack realised quite how evidently Will was not objecting to the current position he was in.
“I was just thinking,” Will purred, “it’s been much longer than half an hour now.”
Jack propped himself up on his elbows to watch as Will sensuously rolled from one side to the other, laughing softly. Not to be outdone, Jack grasped Will’s hips again and canted up under him, his breath coming out in a hiss.
“William, you are a completely depraved pervert for takin’ such pleasure in torturing poor, unsuspectin’, unfettered and unprepared pirates such as meself, in what is evidently a flagrant abuse of your position as the Captain’s favourite.” Jack gasped, sliding his hands under Will’s hips and starting to undoing the buttons of his breeches. This proved to be rather difficult, as Will was grinding against him quite fiercely now.
“You’re the one who wanted his broken toe to be kissed better, and it wasn’t even broken. That makes you the bigger pervert,” came the muffled retort between Jack’s feet.
“Why yes, Will, thank you. I am bigger,” Jack said suggestively. Will stopped writhing for a moment to turn and look at Jack over his shoulder with a smirk.
“No, you aren’t.” Then he turned back and the giddying motion started again.
“William. If you think this kind of lewd behaviour an’ these unfounded suggestions are going to go unnoticed and unpunished, then you…” Jack stopped abruptly, because Will had hold of him by the feet again, and he was planting little kisses on the end of each toe, sand and all.
“Oh. Ohhhhh.”
Jack lolled his head to the side, pressing it against Will’s calf, before turning to bite it, still trying to work his fingers between their bodies. Will obligingly lifted his hips, and Jack managed to unfasten the rest of the buttons on Will’s breeches, dragging them down as far as he could before opening his own twice as fast. He couldn’t see Will’s cock because of all the unbelievably annoying fabric in the way, but he could feel the wet tip sweeping over his belly, and heard Will moaning softly. Jack pushed his breeches down past his hips, freeing his own weeping erection, then pulled Will back down on top of him. He kneaded the sweet curve of Will’s arse, finally naked again, and pressed their cocks together between them, their hips grinding and rolling. And, oh God, there it was, hot and hard and perfectly delicious and don’t stop, don’t…
“Ow!” They both griped in unison, chafed by an unpleasant friction. Will hurriedly backed up onto his knees, giving Jack an even more maddening glimpse before rolling off him. Jack sat up, furious.
“SAND!” he barked. “Bloody fuckin’ get everwhere an’ ruin it soddin’ sand!”
By now, Will had stood up and shucked his breeches completely.
“The blankets,” Will suggested with an eager nod of his head, offering a hand to Jack, who was still half-slumped on the ground with his breeches halfway down his thighs and a raging erection.
“Blankets are bloody covered in sand as well!” Jack all but howled.
“No thanks to you,” Will said testily.
“As if I damn well need remindin’ of that fact! Bloody, bloody sand!” Jack snarled. Will watched the histrionics, and wondered if Jack was stringing it out on purpose just to make Will even more tightly wound up.
“I love the sea,” Jack continued wistfully, “but I hate sand. This is why I prefer the ocean; land’s completely covered with… with stuff. This is the worst holiday ever!” Jack said melodramatically, throwing himself back onto the vile surface beneath him.
“Then come and get in the sea. Now.” Will said in frustration as he started to lose patience, all too aware of the throb in his neglected cock.
“I was gonna,” Jack smirked, in a suddenly normal and modulated tone. “I was just makin’ a point.”
“Well, you’ve made your point,” Will huffed, realising he had been right about the delaying tactics. He reached down to once again grab Jack by his popular ankle, “now I think it’s about high time you made mine.” Will resolutely set off for the shoreline, dragging Jack along by the leg.
“WILLIAM TURNER! I WILL NOT BE DOIN’ ANYTHING WITH YOUR POINT EVER AGAIN IF YOU DON’T LET ME GO THIS…”
Will dropped the leg. He was almost doubled up with laughter, and turned to look at Jack.
Jack was not laughing. At all.
“Think it’s funny, do you?” Jack said, with that dangerous rasp in his voice that Will knew he reserved for those moments when he was close to committing a rare act of violence.
Will stopped laughing. Jack stood up, his eyes boring into Will coldly, and he let his breeches drop to the ground. He stepped out of them without once taking his eyes off Will, and began to advance towards him. In fact, Will noted with some alarm that Jack hadn’t even blinked.
“Now Jack, come on, don’t overreact,” Will inveigled, waving his hands out in front of him to ward off he approaching figure. He felt his feet sinking into the wet sand, and the surf bubbling and washing over his ankles.
“Overreacting, am I?” Jack said darkly. “First you try an’ break my toe.”
“That was your own fault for kicking over my sandcastle that I made at your behest,” Will snapped.
“Then you torture me mercilessly.”
“I’d hardly classify tickling as torture. Besides, you deserved it.,” Will said, his jaw set defiantly as he backed off deeper into the water.
“An’ then you see fit to drag me around for your own amusement,” Jack growled, eyes glinting, never ceasing his advance on Will.
Will felt the seawater reach past his knees, and finally stopped moving and lost his temper.
“You said this was supposed to be fun!”
Jack stopped short about two feet away from Will. Both men had their hands on their hips in a posture of challenge, heads tilted back slightly as they squared up to each other. It looked for all the world as though they were about to fight a duel, though the daggers levelled at each others stomach’s were rather more sensitive than any made from metal, and, one might argue, considerably more deadly. Will’s eyes flicked down for a split second to register their somewhat idiosyncratic choice of weaponry, before glancing back up to see Jack give him an unexpectedly filthy wink.
Jack shrugged.
“I can’t be bothered with this charade any more, mate,” he said matter-of-factly, before lunging forwards and grabbing Will by the waist, pressing their bodies together and sliding his tongue into Will’s mouth, which had opened in surprise. He stopped kissing Will for long enough to whisper,
“How about some good old-fashioned hard fucking instead?
Will thought it might be churlish to bite down on the invading tongue, particularly as it had just suggested precisely what he had been aiming for for quite some time. Instead, he started sucking on it gently, teasingly sliding the tip of his own tongue against it, eliciting approving moans and whimpers from Jack. Will pulled back and rested his forehead against Jack’s, his fingers reaching round to trace the cleft of his buttocks.
“Better idea than building rival sandcastles.” Will said, giving him a slightly unfocused look of mocking glee.
“That was a terrible idea,” Jack murmured in agreement, leaning in so his lips brushed against Will neck, tickling it with his moustache. “You should have persuaded me out of it.”
“Jack…” Will had intended to sound reprimanding. Instead his voice came out as a greedy whisper as Jack butted his hips encouragingly against Will’s, guiding him backwards gently into deeper water. Will could have sworn he heard a hiss and sizzle coming off their overheated skin as he pulled Jack down to crouch in the wonderful coolness of the water, though the noise could have had something to do with how each had the other’s thigh trapped between their legs, sliding against each others hardness.
Will traced along Jack’s jawline with a wet thumb, running it over the edge of his lower lip. Jack’s tongue flickered out to lap the salt water from Will’s skin, and Will took his hand away, replacing it with his lips. With a grin, Jack placed tiny, fluttering licks on Will’s lips instead, and Will felt shiver after shiver going through him, the need drawing tightly in his body like a bowstring. Jack’s tongue worked its way up to ruffle the hair above Will’s lips, when suddenly Jack drew back, making a face. Will was a bit confused until Jack turned and spat as delicately as he could.
“Crunchy,” he gagged, by way of explanation, trying to pick the sand grains off his tongue.
“Ah. Not too pleasant, is it,” Will mumbled, smiling against Jack’s fingers as he brushed any lingering grains out of Will’s moustache, then his own.
“So, did you learn anything from all this sand and fury today, Jack?”
“Aye. That you, William, are a sneaky bastard. And an extraordinary physician. And a kinky bugger.”
“You knew that already.”
“Does this mean we’re even?”
“For now,” Will whispered, then started biting Jack’s earlobe, his tongue tracing the sensitive rim.
Jack’s mouth formed a silent, blissful ‘o’. His head dropped back, the dripping ends of the dark skeins of his hair skimming the water. Will lapped at the exposed throat; the hot, metallic tang of Jack’s neck yielded a different salty taste to the cool, brackish flavour left by the seawater on his collarbone. Will slid one of his hands down and wrapped it around Jack’s cock, fisting slowly. Jack let out a deep, purring sound, and wondered if his tattoos might melt.
“Happy?” Will said with a kiss in the hollow of Jack’s throat.
“Mmhm. Best holiday I’ve ever had.”
“Me too,” Will said quietly. Jack brought his hand under Will’s chin and tilted his head up to gaze at him. To Will’s surprise, Jack moved Will’s hand away from his erection, bringing it around to his back instead, before wrapping his arms around Will tightly. They hugged each other close, feeling the quickening pace of each other’s heartbeat, and the teasing from earlier was momentarily forgotten in a moment of candour as they simply looked at each other. For that moment, they were the only things that existed in that vast ocean.
“You know I adore you, don’t you.” Will’s voice was barely a whisper around the soft consonants. He felt the fingers against his back digging in. Jack’s face changed, as though someone had drawn back a curtain, and his pupils dilated with something far more intense than lust. He leaned in and pressed a single, lingering kiss against Will’s mouth, before pressing his cheek to Will’s. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat.
“Pity the feeling’s one-sided, mate,” Jack said, reinstating the curtain with a flourish, and breaking the spell before they both drowned.
“Liar,” Will countered, promptly poking Jack in the middle of his left nipple, then tweaking it firmly for good measure.
“Ow! We could keep this up all day.”
“I’d rather we didn’t. It’s starting to ache,” Will grinned into Jack’s hair, tilting his hips upwards.
Jack pulled back to give Will one of his voluptuous, lop-sided smiles, trailing his fingers down Will’s chest until they disappeared under the water, until Will felt the sweet friction around the hard pulse of his cock.
“My turn, I think,” Jack said, the words low and seductive against Will’s cheek. He hooked one leg round Will’s waist, kissing the salty curls at Will’s temple. Will nuzzled into Jack’s neck, one hand supporting his buttock, and the other preparing to lift the other leg.
“I want you so very much. So very deep,” Jack moaned softly. Will shifted his thighs further apart, his cock nudging insistently at Jack’s entrance, hot still, even under the chill of the water.
Suddenly, Will let out a yelp.
“What’s the matter, luv?” Jack cried out, planting both feet flat on the seabed again and straightening up, grabbing Will as he went white and stumbled forwards. Will looked at Jack with a mixture of horror and faint amusement and stood up, lifting his foot up out of the water. He turned it for Jack to see the three dark pins sticking out underneath.
“I’ve stepped on a sea urchin.”
Jack’s head dropped onto Will’s shoulder, and he sobbed with bitter, ironic hilarity.
Will, balancing on one leg, spoke in a small voice.
“Jack. Will you kiss it better?”
“Course, darlin’.”
Jack dropped to his knees. A second later, Will nearly fell over.
“I meant my foot!”
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