The heat was unbearable. Sweat rolled down the Captain's tanned, muscular back, running in rivulets between his shoulderblades as his body rocked in a steady, telltale rhythm. The wet, sultry sounds of flesh on flesh, of his throbbing shaft delving into that sticky, tight heat reached his ears, slowly driving him mad. And yet neither this, nor the creaking and groaning of the bedboards could drown out the sensuous sounds tumbling from Beth's parted lips.
Her golden hair was strewn across his pillow, eyes closed, lashes dark against her flushed cheeks. She moaned again, and Jack squeezed his eyes shut, immediately becoming aware of the growing tightness surrounding his throbbing flesh. He gritted his teeth, stifling a groan. The Captain dug his fingers into the pillow on either side of Beth's head, fighting to remain in control of himself when her legs slowly wrapped themselves around his hips. Jack cried out, eyes snapping open in surprise, and he found himself looking into those wide, innocent blue-
Jack jerked awake with a strangled cry, sitting bolt upright in the bed. He gasped for breath, staring wide eyed about his cabin. Unlit candles dripped old wax into a sea of crumpled, stained charts strewn across his small desk. Empty rum bottles littered the desk and floor, rolling and clanking together with the rocking motion of the ship, impeded here and there by evil-smelling lumps of discarded clothing.
Only somewhat reassured to find himself alone, Jack glanced warily down at a suspicious lump in the blankets, aware of an all too familiar pulsing…
The Captain fell back against the mattress with a sigh of disgust. He gazed up at the ceiling, mind still muddy with sleep. He squinted up into the darkness, trying to make out the dark wooden planks overhead, without really seeing them at all. All he saw were those innocent, blue eyes. He rolled out of the bed, still wearing his trousers from the day before, and stumbled to the desk. Jack looked over the charts briefly, then fumbled through the cluster of bottles, finding them to be empty as well. With a displeased grunt, he turned, leaning heavily against the wall, and limped to the door. As he reached for the knob, he stopped and glanced surreptitiously at the crotch of his pants, before opening the door and walking unsteadily out onto the deck.
No one on the night crew so much as looked up, though a few bowed their heads together, noses wrinkling in disgust as they spoke in hushed whispers. Jack pointedly ignored them. There had been much whispering since the ship changed hands. The Captain slipped on a freshly swabbed patch of deck, barely catching himself on the railing as he made his way to the large hatch middeck. He teetered precariously as he crouched to open it, descending slowly into the hold.
Below, Jack breathed a sigh of relief with cool glass in his hand. The bottle rang low as he uncorked it, then brought it to his lips. The dark liquor barely burned as he drank. He'd practically lost the ability to even taste the rum the moment he'd stepped on this infernal boat. All that remained was the numbness, the forgetfulness. Now, he drank solely to forget those blue eyes.
He turned, bottle sloshing in his hand, to survey the iron bars of the brig. For a brief moment, his eyes fell on the huddled form sleeping in the corner before he tore himself away and stomped decidedly up the steps.
The dreams had started in the Locker. First came nightmares. The Kraken would come for him, night after night as he slept, reliving his own slow suffocation, drowning in the digestive fluids within the creature's foul gut. Then came dreams of Elizabeth Swann. Then dreams of pirates who became walking corpses in the moonlight. It was a month- a year? Jack was never sure. Time passed strangely in the Locker, or perhaps time didn't pass at all- before he realized he was dreaming his life backwards.
But all of that stopped the night Jack dreamt of that blue eyed wretch, sinking his beloved Pearl. From that moment on till his not-so-glorious rescue, he dreamt of nothing but her. Beth sprawled out across his bed, Beth bloodied and grim faced in battle, Beth with the knobby knees of her youth, scrambling across the rooftop after him, Beth undressing slowly in her bedroom, unawares, Beth screaming the order to sink his beautiful ship, Beth crawling seductively on top of him… He glared down at the half drunk bottle.
It was enough to drive a man mad, if Jack weren't already mad enough from the start.