Back again, my dears. Enjoy one more chapter of Jack and Will, getting it on. Yay. Arn't you glad I didn't make you wait weeks and weeks? Author do good?
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Mr. Gibbs was the most boring man on the planet. He was droning on about rigging or something like that. It was so very annoying, especially when Jack had better things on his mind then the new ropes available or sail canvas prices. Of course, he couldn't just tell Gibbs that he was bored, and wanted to go shag Will, no, he could never tell Gibbs that. As far as he knew, Jack and Will were just friends.
For hours he just pretended to listen to Gibbs, and manned the wheel. The men noticed the change in his manner. Normally, Jack drank, and joked with everyone. Now, he seemed irritable, and his mind a mile away. While that was mostly true, his mind was only a few yards away.
Jack was a little pissed off. If he wanted a mid day shag in the past, there was a wench on board, and he could just tell one of his men to take over for a few hours. And the a few more for a nice long post-coital nap. The whole secrecy thing did not bode well with Jack. He was never very good at keeping them. He never told out right, things just had a way of falling apart. He did all he cold do at the moment, sail, and pretend to listen to Gibbs.
He was bored. After playing with some of the little artifacts of past voyages, and checking to see where the compass was pointing, (some where in Jack's general direction) Will was bored. There was nothing for a passenger to do aboard the bloody ship. He guessed that the crew had their distractions, and had work to keep them occupied. Will had nothing to do. Suddenly, a thought came to him, rum! That was it; life was always a bit more interesting when completely pissed. Or, he would pass out. Each option had their merits. It was Jack's cabin; he had to have thousands of bottles of rum, if not a few barrels.
One fruitless search later, Will was annoyed, and more than a little confused. He found a few empty bottles, but none with any rum left. He decided to venture in to the hold, and gather up a few bottles, not too many, just enough to get good and sloshed. After getting dressed, which he had never bothered doing earlier; Will left the cabin to search for drink.
Quite surprisingly, he was able to make his way down to the cargo hold with out being disturbed, or side tracked. Of course, that might have had something to do with the fact that if Will heard even the whisper of a foot step, he hid behind what ever was available, at one point being a potted plant that Gibbs was told would bring luck to the journey. If no one else, at least Will and Jack got lucky. (I tried to resist, I really, really tried. If you haven't just randomly started reading at chapter 5, you already know I am a sucker for puns) Once he reached the hold Will was even able to find a bag to carry a few bottles up to Jack's cabin with. The longer he sat, drinking away his coherent thought process, the more he thought.
He thought about everything they had done, and everything they could do. He thought, and drank, drank and thought until the door to Jack's cabin swung open. It was Jack looking a little pissed, and annoyed. Will decided that the first thought to come into his head was the best idea he had ever come up with, attesting to his quite advanced state of inebriation. He sauntered over to Jack in a fashion much like Jack's own; later he would claim that the only reason Jack ever sauntered was due to rum, well that and it was bloody sexy. Once close enough, Will grabbed the back of Jack's head and pulled the pirate into a fairly sloppy, but altogether very arousing snog session. However, before the younger man was able to completely wreck any chances Jack had at an intelligent conversation, Jack moved away, sitting Will on his bed, and Jack taking the rickety chair at his mostly unused desk.
"We need to have a talk." Jack was able pull off a look that was surprisingly serious.
"Is that a euphemism, a talk? Saying a talk when you actually mean something else?" Will found himself too clever for words; the pirate in the desk chair just found him too confusing for words, and slurring quite badly...
"What the hell are you going on about? I mean we should sit out and have a rational discussion about what we are doing. I've never had any shags that could actually do some where. Even that period of a couple months with she who shall not be named, well it was understood then that she would go flying back into your arms if given half a chance. I assume at that point you were still spending your days pining after your bonny lass? My how times have changed…" He chuckled lightly to himself, for, at some point during his little speech, Will's body, as wonderful as it was, decided that it was time for a nap. He slumped over, and fell ungracefully on to the floor, however somehow remaining completely unconscious. Jack did the only thing he could do, and heaved Will onto the waiting bed, organized the man, so he would not be sore in the morning, hung over most definitely, but sore? Never! Once he had finished the task, he laid down beside the drunken man, and fell into a sound sleep.
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The second morning after
Will awoke with the sun burning his retinas, and the worst headache he had ever had. After the one that accompanied the hangover from his wedding. He still had no idea how much alcohol it had taken for him to venture down the isle. Elizabeth never got the wedding night she had dreamed of, Will passed out as soon as the ceremony was over. She was fun to wake up to… He shuddered a bit at the memory. At least this time he awoke with Jack Sparrow's arm clutching him protectively close, and one of Jack's legs thrown over his own. The only bad thing was that something was poking him in the back. Hard. It took Will a few moments for realization to set in. Will turned over so as to avoid being jabbed until he felt like leaving the bed by Jack's morning wood. However, in the process, he woke up the possessor of the wood.
"Mm… much nicer wake up yesterday" Jack said, still half asleep. "So what do I do with this?" he asked, making a semi grand gesture towards his cock.
"Carry out a controlled explosion?" Will was in no mood to go down of any one. His head hurt, and every sound drilled into his brain. Jack was lucky, he was in a constant state of intoxication, never giving himself an opportunity to sober up and pray to the porcelain god.
"Aww. Meany. Just like the commodore you are, never… um… never mind." The mental image supplied by Jack was just enough to send Will's all consuming nausea over the edge, and send him running from the room. Jack stayed awake just long enough to utter a 'was it something I said?' before rolling into the place on the bed that Will's body had warmed, and fell back asleep.
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Hello my dears, as you may or may not have guessed I lied in the chapter when I said that this would be the last real chapter. Oopsy. Any way, keep those reviews coming; I love all of those who have read and review, and all of those who have put my story on their alerts.
Any way readers, I have a surprise for you! There were two, count 'em two quotes from one of my favorite movies. Tell me the movie you get your name in an author's note at the top of the next chapter. If you are able to give me the characters who said the lines, I will not only put in your name, but will also send you a pic of Will and Jack kissing. Seemed appropriate for this fic. Yay to those who win! To those who are completely lost, I shall have the answers in the next chapter.