after.midnight // v.naked
Title: All It Takes
Author: Tamara
Series/Uni: Sharing Will Turner
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Will, hints of Will/Elizabeth
Summary: Whores and pirates and getting rid of that pesky sexual tension.
Disclaimer: Jack and Will belong to Disney.
Distribution: Drop me a line.
A/N: I tried to write a very serious piece of fiction wherein Will forces Jack to admit that he wants to bed Will something awful. There was a swordfight involved and a fair bit of Snarky!Will, along with an eavesdropping Ana and Liz, but I couldn't make it work. I might post what I have of it on my page, but we'll see. I figured I was way over-thinking things and, low and behold, I was. So, this is the dumbed down version of Will and Jack getting together in a more intimate fashion.


If Will Turner had known that all he had to do to get the Jack Sparrow to finally act on the tension that had been humming between them since the moment Will had returned to the Black Pearl was fall into shark infested waters with blood oozing out of a gash on his arm, he would have tried it a lot sooner; with the harmless prick of a needle and not the fiery pain of a gunshot blast.

After Jack had hauled him back onto the deck (and it was the surprise of the bullet grazing his flesh that made him fall into the water, not the sight of blood oozing down his arm, as Jack had suggested hours after the fact) and checked to make sure he was not in immediate danger of dying, and thus incur the wrath of Elizabeth, he demanded, his dark eyes flashing with something that looked strangely like fear, that Will never get shot again.

Will had opened his mouth to make some comment about how his chances of getting shot were considerably less when he was not following Jack into impossible situations ("Improbable, lad, improbable."), but the flow of words was stilled by the hard press of Jack's lips against his. It took a few moments for it to register that Jack Sparrow was kissing him after months and months of dancing around the issue. Right there, on the dock, surrounded by a mob of angry pirates and scorned women of ill repute.

There was heat the moment Jack kissed him, a flare of fire so hot it made Will's head spin. There was the taste of Jack on his tongue, smoky and sweet, tart and tangy, reminding him of tobacco, rum, and tropical fruits. Will's body went boneless and languid for one long moment before his brain, and Jack's throaty moan, demanded he participate.

He opened his mouth beneath Jack's, his tongue delving in to explore the warm cavern of his mouth. He wrapped his arms around the pirate and pulled him close, the only thoughts in his mind how long he'd been waiting for this and how much more he wanted.

The euphoria of the moment was lost when a bullet whizzed past Will's ear and embedded itself in the wooden post at his back.

Will flinched, splinters of wood hitting his face, and pushed Jack away from him, his entire body screaming in protest at the lost contact. His body would just have to wait. "This is not the time," he reminded the pirate with a growl. "People are trying to kill us."

As if startled by this bit of information (and Will took great pleasure in having distracted Jack so well, he'd forgotten the trouble he had gotten them into), Jack looked up, his gaze taking in the commotion surrounding them before turning back to look at his friend. "Well, they're not trying to kill us anymore," he said with a shrug. "And you only have yourself to thank for them trying to kill us before."

The first part of Jack's statement was true. The minor scuffle he and Jack had been involved in had turned into a major brawl, but the focus was off the blacksmith and the pirate. As for the second part of his statement, it was nothing but lies.

Will opened his mouth to protest, but Jack cut him off. "If you had only accepted Antoinette's overture of...friendship in the spirit in which it was intended--"

"Overture of friendship?" Will exclaimed incredulously, cutting the pirate off. "She kissed me, Jack."

That had been his first kiss of the night and, up until that point, the most ambitious greeting he'd gotten. Most of the whores they'd come in contact with had batted darkened eyelashes and flashed painted smiles, a few going so far as to skim a finger down the open collar of his shirt. While the attention had been uncomfortable (his experience with whores limited to three occasions and he had been a witness only every time), turning them down had been easy. But Antoinette, with encouragement from Jack, whom Will suspected was trying to get him into trouble with Elizabeth, had sealed their lips together with enough force to knock the wind out of him, and he'd been too stunned to do anything but stand there as she intimately acquainted herself with his mouth. And though she was very skilled (more than Elizabeth, less than Jack, he decided later that evening) and extremely pretty, with long red curls, big green eyes, and milky white skin, her kiss hadn't affected him nearly as much as Jack's had a few moments earlier.

Jack nodded sagely. "And you should be lucky she didn't make you pay, mate," he said as he led the way off the dock. Being careful to avoid the pirates fighting around them, they made their way to the inn where they were staying for the night. "It was your fine looks that got us into this mess. If you were a bit less attractive, Antoinette wouldn't have bothered to look at you."

"If you hadn't offered me up to every whore in town, she would never have looked at me," Will said, frustration coloring his tone. It was hard to believe that just moments earlier he'd been ready and willing to follow Jack into sin.

Jack rolled his eyes, his lips tilting up in a smile. "If you're so set on blaming someone, blame old Bootstrap and your mum for coming together to produce the prettiest blacksmith in all the Caribbean."

The pretty remark was the last straw. It was bad enough having to listen to every desperate old degenerate pirate they ran into making comments about his lovely cheekbones, or his beautiful brown eyes, or his luscious pink mouth. More than a few of them had made it quite clear that they wouldn't mind a night spent in Will Turner's bed, even after Jack explained, with amusement in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, that the blacksmith was a happily married man and, unfortunately, would not be offering his services to the masses, pity though that was.

He got enough remarks about his looks. He did not have to put up with it from Jack. And he wondered why it was that no one ever praised Jack about his lovely cheekbones, beautiful brown eyes, or luscious pink lips.

"I hate you," Will said with feeling as he unlocked the door to their room and walked inside.

Jack chuckled as he followed the blacksmith through the door, clearly not believing that one bit. "That's not what your lips were saying down at the docks, luv," he pointed out, unnecessarily. As if Will could have forgotten that.

But he let Jack push him into a chair, stayed silent as the captain gently tended the wound on his arm. When Jack took the last of his rum and poured it over the wound, muttering a sincere apology when Will winced at the sting, the blacksmith pirate figured that was a close to a declaration of love that he was ever going to get from his captain. The thought made him smile.

"It's not what my lips were saying then that matters," Will muttered as he got up from his seat. It was hard to stay angry with Jack Sparrow, especially when he was looking at him with dark eyes hooded with what Will was quite positive was desire. "It only matters what they are saying now."

One moment he was standing on his own two feet, glaring at Jack as if his gaze could kill, the next the world tilted and he found himself flat on his back on the bed a couple of feet away. Before he had time to say anything (and he would have protested vehemently), Jack had covered his mouth with his, kissing him hungrily. He thought about pushing him away, because Jack had this ability to run roughshod over his objections no matter how logical they were, but he couldn't deny that he'd craved the feel of Jack's lips on his, Jack's hands, never still, moving over his body, making him feel things he had only ever experienced with Elizabeth but in a different way.

The rewards for giving in were so much sweeter.

And an hour later, skin deliciously flushed dusky red, his hips arching against Jack's hands and mouth, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip deep enough to draw blood, trying and failing to still the cries of pleasure, the only word Will's lips seemed capable of producing was Jack's name.

"I'd like to see you try and hate me after that," Jack said, smug smile firmly in place, when Will could do nothing more than lay there, sated and happy. Unable to resist, Jack brushed his lips against Will's, taking pleasure in the way the boy responded to the light touch. "Now that the edge is off, how about we see what else we can make those lips of yours say?"

As Will gave himself over to the pirate, he made a mental note to find Antoinette in the morning and give her a kiss she wouldn't soon forget.

He figured he owed her.