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Ghosts of the Past and Present
by Hathor
Captain Jack Sparrow watched the empty rum bottle gently roll back and forwards across the table in time to the pitch and yaw of The Black Pearl. She was on a steady tack, yet with the wind against tide she reeled like a dancing drunken wench.
Jack glanced up at the thin latched door to his quarters hoping that his lover would return soon. It was almost midnight on this special day and although Jack was not what one could class as sentimental, he felt almost anxious while waiting for Will's watch to end. Originally the young man had come aboard as first a guest, then over time as a lover of The Pearl's eccentric captain. However, within his first few weeks, the young Mister Turner had started to learn how to earn his keep on board. Keen eyes and a newly acquired lonesome streak meant that more often than not, he would end up pulling the dusk watch.
The ship's bell sounded out the change of watch and Jack grinned.
Straightening his braids and running a slick finger under his kohl lined eyes, he kicked his boots up onto the table just as the stiff latch on the cabin turned.
Jack watched, in the manner of a laconic predator, as Will ducked into the cabin.
"Dear Gods," Will muttered as he shrugged out of his cloak, ignoring the wet sucking sound it made as it fell to the deck. Swiping the frozen curls out of his face, he sat down heavily at the small table.
"Good watch?" Jack asked.
Will looked up at him with something close to violence in his eyes. The emotion darkened another notch when he spied the empty rum bottle.
Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "Darling...", he began.
"You drank all the rum?" Will growled.
Jack spread his hands and after a moment bowed over them in acquiescent.
"I've been freezing the balls off a brass monkey up on your precious deck, and you've gone and drunken all the rum!" Will's voice dropped a dangerous cadence as he spoke.
"Capt'n's privilege." Jack replied smugly. His voice dropped to a raspy whisper. "You know there was a time when you wouldn't touch the stuff..." Jack trailed off as Will shot him another irate glare.
Will snorted, turned and began to unlace his wet shirt. Warmth and with it feeling, were finally started to return to his hands. Peeling the sopping shirt from his back, he felt the goose bumps rise; however he was unable to attribute them purely to the cold. Jack's ebony dark eyes bore into Will back, warming him without a touch.
Jack sauntered over to stand behind his lover, arms reaching around the strong waist, to pull the younger man to him. Jack sniffed at Will's neck, before tracing the outline of his ear with his tongue, reveling in the manner that Will froze.
"Do you know what today is, love?" he asked quietly.
"Bloody freezing?" came the sarcastic reply.
Jack rewarded the impudence with a nip to Will's neck. "Today is the Eve of the New Year."
Will twisted in Jack's grasp with a questioning look. The pirate sighed deeply.
"Much like you land-lubbers, we too have traditions and celebrations."
Will rolled his eyes. He hadn't set foot on land for well over six months. "Don't tell me." He held up a hand, raising
Jack's line of sight from the tasty corner of his collarbone. "It involves rum."
"Ah-ha!" Jack crowed, spinning away, ignoring Will's slight stumble as the strong arms suddenly released him.
"'Tis not rum." Jack bent down and rummaged in a chest at the far end of the room. A few moments later he held a dusty bottle aloft in triumph. "'Tis port!"
"I thought that you only drank rum."
Jack held up his index finger, gesturing to Will. "I do. Usually. Except sometimes. Like grand occasions such as tonight." He shrugged slightly as he poured out two glasses.
Will looked across at him with a raised eyebrow but took the proffered glass. Bringing it to his lips, he was stopped by a dark hand curling around his own.
"But first, a toast!" Jack declared. Striking a dramatic pose he cleared his throat, but not before sending a surreptitious glance Will's way to check that he had the younger man's full attention.
"To the Black Pearl and all who sail in her!", clasping a melodramatic hand over his heart. "No wait. That's not the one," he whispered to himself sotto voce. Jack cocked his head for a moment as he searched his memory, frowning slightly as Will fidgeted in the chair with poorly concealed impatience. "To calm storm...no, that's not right. To stout ships and sound...oh wait. Wait!"
Clearing his throat he raised the glass of dark red liquid.
"To the year gone by and to the year to come. Let us wish for good friends, good food and more rum!"
Jack tilted his throat back and emptied his glass. Smiling Will took a good drink before placing the glass back on the table. He wanted to savour the port for a few minutes. He had tasted the drink only a couple of times and that had been as a guest at Elizabeth's house.
He smiled sadly at the thought of the headstrong young woman. Pain and guilt raced through his heart, washing away any feelings of celebration. Will and Elizabeth had only been together for a few months when she had contracted and finally succumbed to tuberculosis. After a few months of deep despair, Will had finally fled Port Royal and sought out Jack, figuring that there was little left for him to live for and staying close to Jack was surely the quickest way to get himself killed. An arrangement that suited himself and the unjust world he lived in just fine. Slowly the older man, aided by copious amounts of rum, had helped Will through the worst of the grieving process. The day to day routine of life aboard the Black Pearl had slowly bought a mild comfort to Will's aching heart. A few months later that comfort had extended first to Jack's arms and then to his bed.
Jack watched the emotions fleet across Will's expressive face, saddened that his toast and plans for the evening had upset his lover. Determined to draw him out of the fast settling melancholy, he startled Will from his reverie by moving behind the younger man and settling a soft kiss at the juncture of his neck.
Will flinched in surprise, turning in the chair to look into Jack's understanding face.
"As long as you remember them, love. They are never truly lost to us."
Will blinked at the words, touched by Jack's compassion. He threaded a hand through the pirate's braids.
"If I hadn't have found you..." He broke off the rest of the sentence.
"Hush now," Jack answered, cupping his cheek and running a dark tar stained thumb over Will's lips. Jack removed his thumb and then pulled Will's head towards his own, and replaced it with his lips.
To begin with the kiss was soft, comforting and chaste. Within moments the emotion changed. It grew deeper and stronger, as Jack started to plunder Will's mouth with his tongue. Strong deft hands began to undo Jack's sash as his sword belt and other items of clothing began to fall to the deck.
There was an undercurrent of desperation in Will's kisses tonight that saddened Jack, even as he enjoyed the fever and passion that it leant to the proceedings. Driven on by the mounting tension, the two men worked to free themselves of their remaining clothes as they moved across the cabin. When Jack felt his legs hit the side of his wooden cot, he twisted tumbling the pair of them down onto the cushions and sheets.
Will broke them apart to look up into Jack's eyes. Needing no words, Jack bent his head and took about the duty he had gladly accepted months ago. To exorcise Will's ghosts until sleep would come from sated exhaustion.
The End