Title: Busy
Author: Dreamiflame
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, they belong to Disney. I'm just borrowing.
Notes: I'm not sure why this is in second person. Thanks to Sara for the beta.
It would be ever so much easier, you think, if the only two people you loved weren't too busy being in love with each other.
But they are, and you have to face, really face it, hiding in the very back row of the church, tucked down behind the pew. That commodore who hates you so much is closer to the front, so you're safe, after a fashion. Though not really because Port Royale's never safe, and that's half the fun of going there. Will and Elizabeth are standing at the very front of the church, and through the rum haze and the distance they look very small. They're holding hands very tightly, and you think that maybe if the whole church somehow fell (or slid, it doesn't really matter how) into the sea this very moment and everyone drowned, those two would still be holding hands, skin eventually wearing away into polished bone, entangled together forever. And that's a very morbid thought, you tell yourself, for such a joyous occasion as a wedding, and put it out of your mind.
You stay only long enough to see them kiss and smile at one another, then you slip out the door and make your way back to the docks. No sense in staying, it's far too dangerous with people like that Commodore hovering around them, and you paddle out to the Pearl, trying to convince yourself it's the exertion and not something else that makes your heart ache.
In your cabin you sit with a bottle and drink it slowly, remembering. They have each other now, till death do them part, but you have rum, and you think you might be better off. But if they were here, you know you'd let them have some of the rum, though Elizabeth can't be allowed to burn any of it, because that's a vile waste of a good drink, and besides, it might harm the Pearl. And not even Elizabeth gets to do that.
You're maybe, just possibly, the slightest bit drunk when the door opens in a rush of white satin and linen, and Will and Elizabeth tumble inside. They're unsteady on their feet, you see, and you sway with the waves or maybe just with the waves in your mind, and raise your bottle to them. "Congratulations!" you say, and Will's arms leave Elizabeth's waist as he stalks across the floor to you. "Drinks all around!" you finish. Will plucks the bottle from your hand and takes a long swig. You frown, and Elizabeth nudges Will, taking the bottle from him. The rum keeps getting farther and farther away and you think that maybe you've changed your mind about letting Will and Elizabeth share your rum.
Elizabeth still has the bottle, so when you stand you start toward her, but Will is in your way, and rather solid when you bump into him. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you, and oh, there's the rum, on Will's tongue, and so you kiss him back. There are hands on your neck and back and Will must be a very clever boy because he's figured out how to grow or make more than two hands. You think you might be moaning, but it could just be the wind. Then Will steps back and you whine, reaching for him again and forcing your heavy eyes open and it's Elizabeth in your way now, slim and oh, those must have been her hands, Will isn't quite that clever after all. Elizabeth's tongue tastes of rum, too, and she had some still in her mouth, which trickles now from her lips to yours and there are still more hands than any one person should have on you and somewhere along the way you've moved across the cabin and the bed is behind you now. You fall rather gracelessly onto the bed, dragging Elizabeth with you, and find that you have significantly less clothing on than you remember wearing before. Will is behind you, you can feel his heat the length of you back and the boy is most certainly not a eunuch, not that you truly ever thought he was one, and it all fades and melts into the friction of skin on skin and kisses that taste of rum.
You wake in the morning with Will's head on your back and Elizabeth's arm caught beneath your stomach and you smile, because obviously, the only two people you loved hadn't been too busy being in love with each other after all. But then, you're Captain Jack Sparrow, and you probably should have expected that.
Author: Dreamiflame
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, they belong to Disney. I'm just borrowing.
Notes: I'm not sure why this is in second person. Thanks to Sara for the beta.
It would be ever so much easier, you think, if the only two people you loved weren't too busy being in love with each other.
But they are, and you have to face, really face it, hiding in the very back row of the church, tucked down behind the pew. That commodore who hates you so much is closer to the front, so you're safe, after a fashion. Though not really because Port Royale's never safe, and that's half the fun of going there. Will and Elizabeth are standing at the very front of the church, and through the rum haze and the distance they look very small. They're holding hands very tightly, and you think that maybe if the whole church somehow fell (or slid, it doesn't really matter how) into the sea this very moment and everyone drowned, those two would still be holding hands, skin eventually wearing away into polished bone, entangled together forever. And that's a very morbid thought, you tell yourself, for such a joyous occasion as a wedding, and put it out of your mind.
You stay only long enough to see them kiss and smile at one another, then you slip out the door and make your way back to the docks. No sense in staying, it's far too dangerous with people like that Commodore hovering around them, and you paddle out to the Pearl, trying to convince yourself it's the exertion and not something else that makes your heart ache.
In your cabin you sit with a bottle and drink it slowly, remembering. They have each other now, till death do them part, but you have rum, and you think you might be better off. But if they were here, you know you'd let them have some of the rum, though Elizabeth can't be allowed to burn any of it, because that's a vile waste of a good drink, and besides, it might harm the Pearl. And not even Elizabeth gets to do that.
You're maybe, just possibly, the slightest bit drunk when the door opens in a rush of white satin and linen, and Will and Elizabeth tumble inside. They're unsteady on their feet, you see, and you sway with the waves or maybe just with the waves in your mind, and raise your bottle to them. "Congratulations!" you say, and Will's arms leave Elizabeth's waist as he stalks across the floor to you. "Drinks all around!" you finish. Will plucks the bottle from your hand and takes a long swig. You frown, and Elizabeth nudges Will, taking the bottle from him. The rum keeps getting farther and farther away and you think that maybe you've changed your mind about letting Will and Elizabeth share your rum.
Elizabeth still has the bottle, so when you stand you start toward her, but Will is in your way, and rather solid when you bump into him. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you, and oh, there's the rum, on Will's tongue, and so you kiss him back. There are hands on your neck and back and Will must be a very clever boy because he's figured out how to grow or make more than two hands. You think you might be moaning, but it could just be the wind. Then Will steps back and you whine, reaching for him again and forcing your heavy eyes open and it's Elizabeth in your way now, slim and oh, those must have been her hands, Will isn't quite that clever after all. Elizabeth's tongue tastes of rum, too, and she had some still in her mouth, which trickles now from her lips to yours and there are still more hands than any one person should have on you and somewhere along the way you've moved across the cabin and the bed is behind you now. You fall rather gracelessly onto the bed, dragging Elizabeth with you, and find that you have significantly less clothing on than you remember wearing before. Will is behind you, you can feel his heat the length of you back and the boy is most certainly not a eunuch, not that you truly ever thought he was one, and it all fades and melts into the friction of skin on skin and kisses that taste of rum.
You wake in the morning with Will's head on your back and Elizabeth's arm caught beneath your stomach and you smile, because obviously, the only two people you loved hadn't been too busy being in love with each other after all. But then, you're Captain Jack Sparrow, and you probably should have expected that.