Authoritarian was not a word Captain Jack Sparrow preferred to be used to describe him as a leader aboard the Black Pearl. Quite the opposite, in fact. Captain Jack prided himself on his ability to verbally diffuse, discourage, and otherwise dissuade members of his crew from displays of outright insubordination. His brig was rarely used, and he was even more sparing with the lash. However in recent days he'd found his charitable nature increasingly tested and tried by his entire crew in general, one man specifically: his first mate.
Hector Barbossa's position aboard the Pearl was a precarious one. Jack's first mate was constantly teetering on the edge of his rank, one or two moments of noncompliance away from losing his status. Hector seemed to think he'd plummet right out of first mate status and right into captain status, which was rather absurd to Jack, as well as entertaining to watch.
Or, at least, at first it was.
Barbossa wasn't a subtle man by any measure, and Jack picked up on his disloyal intentions almost as soon as they began cropping up. In the early stages, Jack was content to allow Hector to think he had the captain fooled. He quietly foiled any attempts at power grabs from the first mate, enjoying the comical sight of the older pirate covering up his mounting levels of frustration with fake, desprately pleasant behavior. Jack hadn't allowed the affair to trouble his mind too much.
That was, until last night.
The Pearl had come upon a surprisingly belligerent little merchant vessel in the night and Jack had awoken to Hector's shrill voice barking orders. He remembered wandering on deck to find his crew preparing to broadside a schooner and realizing very quickly that anything he said would be immediately disregarded. So rather than waste breath, he apporaced Barbossa who was standing on the quarterdeck, sword brandished and hurling insults at the opposing crew. The sneer on his face lost a touch of its malice when he spotted Jack, but it was only a brief flicker. Jack stepped up to him and cleared his throat.
"Hector, I don't-"
His voice was immediately drowned out by cannon fire from the merchants and Barbossa's voice then carried over the chaos, commanding the crew to return fire. Things happened fast after that. Jack recalled some of his crew preparing to board, hearing several bullets whizzing past his ears, the ringing of swords, losing track of Hector, then a sharp pain on the back of his head, sending him reeling into darkness.
. . . . .
When Jack came to, he was in the brig. The Pearl's brig. HIS brig. On HIS ship. He wasn't certain how it had happened, nor did he much care why or when. He only cared WHO. And he was certain he knew WHO.
He waited a few minutes until he heard footsteps on the stairs nearby, then cleared his throat noisily. Luckily for him, the passerby was the one-eyed lad, Ragetti. He spun around and regarded Jack, startled and skittish.
"Oi! Ah, captain... the captain! Is awake..."
Jack stood on wavering legs, one hand pressed to the lump on the back of his head. "Aye lad, it would seem there's been a mistake. Captain's the one wot throws people in the brig, not the other way around, savvy?"
Ragetti's head bobbed up and down nervously.
"Ahem," Jack cleared his throat and leaned against the bars, "be a good lad, hand me them keys, and run along and fetch me first mate, aye?"
Ragetti promptly ran off, stopped, turned around, grabbed the keys to Jack's cell and handed them over, then ran off again.
Jack fiddled with the keys, trying several before finding the correct one and freeing himself. He sniffed, replaced the keys on their peg, then swung around towards the stairs, glaring daggers at the crew members he passed on his way up. The men had obviously known he was in there and did nothing. The captain cursed himself for recruiting so many bloodthirsty, disloyal dogs to serve aboard his vessel.
As he came up on deck, a few of the men turned to look first at him, then at Barbossa, who was walkng out of the captain's quarters of all places. Jack folded his arms over his chest and Hector, after his initial startled look at the sight of Jack on deck, spread his arms out in mock delight.
"Jaaaaaack! Where've ye been, I haven't seen ye since last night..."
"Aye," Jack interupted whatever charade Barbossa was about to put on, "strange thing that. I don't remember walking down there meself, but I ended up spending last night in the brig. I was rather hoping one of you lot could help me wif some of the details."
He looked around at the sullen crew, their eyes shifting back and forth, no one willing to contribute. Barbossa coughed a nervous laugh and started to say something when Bootstrap Bill ventured forward.
"Ah! Billy, I knew I could count on you mate." Jack swaggered over and put his arm around the larger man. "Now, I 'ave my suspicions, all I need from you is a finger in the direction of the offending party who thought it was a good idea to lock old Jack up for the evening."
All eyes were on Bootstrap. The crew had turned completely neutral at this point, their bloodthirst overriding any loyalty to Hector and whatever he was promising them in return for their silence.
Bootstrap jabbed his chin at Barbossa, who made a horrible face, fists clenching and unclenching. "If you be suspecting your first mate, captain, and by God I'm certain you are, then right you be."
The crew leaned forward, waiting for the captain's word to set upon the suddenly outnumbered first mate. Barbossa backed up a little, bumping against the door to the captain's quarters.
"Gents, be there nothin' ye'd like ta say in me defense?" Hector glanced around at the crew, searching for a friendly face. "Gonna let the likes of Bootstrap Bill do all the speakin' for ye, s'that it?"
" 'at's enough from you, Hector." Jack's voice was gruff and low, a voice he didn't use often. He quickly changed his tone. "Well, lads, seems like my first mate were looking to have a word with me, seeing as he were in my cabin only a moment ago, and I can't think of any other reason for 'im to be in there." He poked Hector in the ribs, almost goodnaturedly. "So if you'll 'scuse us..." he slid around Barbossa's side, opening the door to the cabin for the two of them.
The crew mumbled and murmured, unsatisfied with the lack of punishment, or even a sentence. One voice grumbled " 'sthat it, then?"
Pushing Hector into the cabin, Jack turned back to the crowd, cocking a wicked half-smile. "Not even close, gents. Bo'sun, would you be so kind as to fetch the lash please? Dear Hector will feel its sting before too long." With that, he disappeared into the cabin, leaving the crew eager and animated.
. . . . .
As Jack closed the door behind him, he turned to find Hector standing a few paces away, looking ready for a fight. Jack smiled rougishly over at him.
" 'eard that, did you luv?" The captain asked darkly.
Barbossa huffed and rolled his eyes. "Did ye really have ta get their hopes up like that? Ye really shouldn't-"
"Oh, I meant every word of it mate." Jack slowly approached Hector, closing the space between them until he was close enough that he could feel the nervous energy radiating off of his first mate. Hector leaned back a little, fixing Jack with a look of mild disbelief. But there was something else in Barbossa's demeanor, something Jack had been expecting and fully intended to take advantage of. It was excitement.
With one hand, Jack swept up an open bottle of rum off the table in the center of the room, swallowing a few gulps. He twisted his free hand into Barbossa's collar, pulling him closer, close enough for a kiss. "How about it, mate?" the captain breathed, heavily rum scented "you don't think I'll follow through?"
Hector breathed, something near a laugh, "You've never had the guts before, what makes this time different?" he challenged.
Rather than answer, Jack went in for a kiss, which Barbossa reciprocated without hesitation. Jack clumsily placed the bottle back on the table, and it tilted onto its side, spilling its contents on the table top, dribbling onto the floor. For a few moments, they clashed and kissed each other roughly, hands wandering and pushing past layers of clothes. Without warning, Jack grabbed hold of Hector's collar again and hauled him over towards the bed. The first mate let out a muffled sound of surprise, resisting Jack's tugging, and ended up sitting hard on the edge of the matress instead of landing flat on his back.
Jack took Hector's chin and tilted his head up to look him in the face. There was a mixture of wild defiance and wanton hunger in the first mate's blue eyes.
"You've never locked me up in me own brig before." Jack hissed, pushing Barbossa down more fully onto the matress.
This was nothing new. The pair had been lovers for almost a decade. But more recently, they had settled their disagreements in this fashion. Jack had even gone as far as to whip Hector with his belt doubled over, but only a few times, and always follwed by lovemaking. The capain knew very well Hector rather enjoyed the treatment, but it helped him maintain some semblance of control over the man, who frequently ended up topping Jack anyway. This time WAS different, though, as Barbossa suggested. Jack needed to prove to his first mate he still deserved to be captain.
Barbossa was caught up in the heat of the moment, at least momentarily distracted by the captain's overly dominant behavior. Jack took advantage of his first mate's compliance and spread his legs wide, undoing the buttons on the front of Hector's trousers. Normally, they would take their time a little more, undressing each other and leaving little bite marks all over before fucking. But Jack wasn't in the mood to pleasure Barbossa too much. He found Hector's already hard prick and grabbed it roughly, pumping it a few times. Hector gasped at how quickly they seemed to be moving along, reaching his hands up to Jack's shoulders and running his hands down his back to his hips, attempting to still him and slow things down. Jack leaned in and bit at the first mate's earlobe.
"Sorry, luv, we're doing things a little out of order today." he breathed.
Jack briefly considered foregoing any lubrication or preparation in the spirit of vindication, but decided against any unecessary cruelty. He looked down at Hector's flushed face, traced a thumb over the scar under his eye, and knew he still loved the man, damn him. So he reached for the oil he kept on the nightstand and drizzled some over his fingers, keeping Hector down with firm kisses and bites along the inside of his thighs where he had pushed his pants away.
Barbossa gasped when he felt fingers at his entrance and tangled his hands in the sheets, head thrown back against Jack's pillow. The captain worked him open quickly, not spending enough time for too much enjoyment before removing the digits and unfastening his own trousers. His cock popped free, and Jack allowed Hector a moment's pause to get an eyeful of what he had coming.
"I'm gonna fuck you Hector Barbossa, and then I'll have ye lashed. You'll get fifteen stripes, and the whole time yer ass will puckerin' and sore."
All the first mate could do was moan as his cock jumped a little at the captain's filthy words. Jack slicked up his own prick and unceremoniously rammed into Hector. It was a quick and dirty fuck, both men were already close to the edge. Jack pounded into Barbossa, lifting his legs up over his shoulders to get a better angle. The first mate swore, gripping the headboard, as Jack continued thrusting into him furiously, slowing a little when he felt orgasm approaching.
"Unngh," Jack muttered against Hector's neck, "fuck mate, I oughta flog you meself!"
Barbossa hissed and moaned at the sudden change of pace, "ah, nothin's stopping ye, Jack, ah, except yer own faint heart."
Jack stopped his thrusting altogether. He bit down hard on Hector's collarbone, then kissed the mark. "Thas not it, luv." He moved up a little and kissed Hector's neck, sucking a little. "I love ye too much."
Jack snapped his hips forward, hitting Barbossa's prostate, earning a cry from the older man. He thrust into him several more times, eliciting more cries. When he stilled again, Hector caught his breath. "S'the same thing, Jack. You can't do what you need to. What a captain needs to do. That's what makes this time the same as the other times."
Jack growled and fucked Hector harder, pushing both of them towards orgasm. With a grunt, Jack came, spilling into Barbossa, filling him. He collapsed onto the first mate's chest and panted for a moment before slowly thrusting in and out of him again, riding the last waves of his climax. Barbossa moaned again, thrusting in time with Jack, trying to get friction on his swollen cock, but Jack pulled out and closed his hand over his first mate's balls firmly.
"Not yet mate. You're not coming yet." Jack panted.
"You rotter," Barbossa snarled.
Jack's grip tightened, stilling Barbossa's revolt. "Captain's orders, luv. I'll decide after yer flogging whether you get to come."
The captain gave the first mate's balls a little teasing tug, admiring the drop of his come rolling out of Barbossa's used hole. Then he stood and readjusted his wardrobe. "On your feet, first mate, and make yourself decent." He barked.
For a moment, Jack could see the defiant spirit in Hector's heaving chest, threatening to make this more of a fight, but the voices on deck had gotten louder as pirates grew impatient. They wanted to get the show on the road.
"Come on then Hector, it'll be fifteen lashes, you get to decide with how much dignity."
Appealing to the first mate's dignity seemed to do the trick, as he somewhat begrudgingly propped himself up on his elbows and started to redo the buttons on hs trousers. As he stood, Jack took a step aside to allow Hector out the door first, and the first mate growled "If ye think this display'll change anythin' yer dead wrong, Sparrow. The crew knows the kind of man ye are. Yer too late ta change their minds."
Jack smiled and let the words roll off his back instead of allowing them to cut. In one motion, he swept Hector's green coat off his shoulders and tossed it over the back of a chair. "Won't be needing this!" He declared, undoing the buttons on the first mate's red waistcoat, and pushing him towards the main mast and the circle of waiting crew.
Barbossa put up very little of a fight as his wrists were chained to the mast, and Jack stood back behind the bo'sun, ordering fifteen lashes to be dealt. The first mate's shirt was ripped down by the collar, exposing his scarred back. Hector was as stalwart as the captain and crew expected, taking the stripes in relative silence, gasping and cursing at the last few.
After the final lash fell, Jack warned the crew they could expect at least fifteen lashes and five if anyone else were to attept a similar stunt, then ordered Barbossa's shackles to be undone. The crew, satisfied, began to dissapate. One or two of the men offered to help steady Hector, but predictably, the first mate swore he didn't need anyone's help and began to stagger off on his own. In spite of himself, Jack felt a small swell of guilt in his chest. He was opposed to this sort of behavior, especially towards a man he still had such strong feelings for.
"First mate Barbossa, my cabin, if you please."
Hector turned towards Jack, murder in his eyes, but bit his tongue and adjusted his course.
. . . . .
Once inside the cabin again, Jack helped Hector out of his waistcoat and torn shirt, along with his yellow sash and belt, leaving him in just his trousers and boots. He cupped the older man's face in his hands.
"Go on luv, tell me you didn't deserve it." he proddded the sullen first mate.
When he didn't recieve a response, he trailed one hand down to Hector's crotch and into his pants where his cock was still swollen and hard. He squeezed and the first mate gasped.
"I'll see to it yer back is tended to mate, but first things first, we've some unfinished business..." not letting go of Hector's prick, Jack guided him towards the bed once again. "First you're goin' to come for me."
Barbossa groaned, the fresh pain in his back heightening his sense of arousal, as he drew Jack in for a kiss, grinding his cock against the captain's pants. Jack allowed the first mate to ravage him for a moment, kissing back and feeling Hector's teeth on his lower lip. Eventually Jack broke it off and pushed Barbossa around and down onto his knees on the matress, careful not to graze any of his wounds. From behind, he wrapped a hand around Barbossa's cock and started stroking. The first mate gasped and grunted, pushing back against the captain's hardening cock. Jack moaned a shuddering breath, promising himself they'd fuck again after Hector was properly clceaned. In the meantime he yanked Barbossa's trousers down, exposing his backside, and gave him a couple playful slaps before drilling two fingers into him.
"Ahh, fffuck Jaaack..." Hector cried out, and with a few more strokes he came. Jack let him collapse on the bed, the sheets needed changing anyway.
The captain knelt down on the matress, lowering his face to meet Hector's. He threaded his fingers into the first mate's red hair, tightening them a bit for emphasis. "Think on what ye done, Hector. Any other captain mighta shot you. Don't take nothin' fer granted."
Barbossa seemed to be coming up with a retort in his head, but Jack could see sleep quickly overtaking him. With that, he left the cabin to get a bucket with salt and vinegar. He'd allow the man a few minutes before the rude, stinging awakening. His own cock was painfully hard again. Jack knew they were well beyond the point of being able to fuck away their problems. But tonight, that would just have to do.