Elizabeth laid out a pallet on the floor then kneeled to smooth out the thin cotton. She was just about to stretch out upon the makeshift bed on the floorboards of the ship when a pair of boots stepped onto the edge of the sheet. Elizabeth tugged at the fabric then looked up. Her mouth pulled to the side, but she fought off a smile.
"Jack," she sighed, too tired to think of a quip. She tugged at the blanket once more.
Jack reached out for her hand and, against her better judgement, Elizabeth took it. He pulled her onto her feet and in close, two steps away from being flush against his chest.
"Don't you know it's bad luck for a woman to sleep in the guts of a ship without the Captain around to keep a close eye on her?"
"You made that up."
"Maybe." Jack leaned in close to Elizabeth's ear. "But it's my roundabout way of saying I don't trust those two."
She looked over her shoulder at Pintel and Ragetti who were sharing a blanket, going back and forth in an argument, the blanket jerked each time the conversation shifted between them.
Elizabeth opened her mouth, about to say she believed the pair was harmless, then she remembered changing aboard the Black Pearl when Barbossa captained the vessel, the two trying to get a look at her.
"My cabin has your name on it. If you're interested."
She weighed her options for a moment, Jack or the ever-chattering pair. This would all be solved if Norrington just roped himself into her group of rotation, but of course he chose to stay awake during the night shift, alone with his dark, regretful thoughts.
"As long as you keep your wickedness to yourself," Elizabeth said, her voice clipped and laced with judgement.
"My 'wickedness?'" Jack's hand drew up to his chin and he smiled somewhat, interested. "I'm unsure what you mean by that, Swann. I'm but a mere noble Captain offering my cabin to a woman in need." Jack leaned down and swept the sheet out from under Elizabeth's feet, forcing her to stumbled back. "Any 'wickedness' was dreamt up, entirely your own," he assured, throwing the sheet over his shoulder. "But it sounds rather interesting. Introduce me to your wickedness sometime, will you?" Jack whispered into her ear then turned without another word, sauntering towards the doorframe and stepping up the stairs rhythmically.
Elizabeth followed closely behind a moment later, somewhat irritated. Jack was not going to turn this back on her like Norrington did. She wasn't the one who proposed earlier that day. She was bothered by this decision even, as she probably just played into of Jack's ploys.
Once in Jack's cabin, he didn't address her, just laid out the sheet and lit a lantern.
"Help yourself to it, Swann. Carrying on your performative haughty nature is sure to be exhausting." Jack waved a hand towards his bed in the wall of the ship then swept a book under his arm. He made himself look comfortable with his sleeping situation, his legs crossed as he opened the book up to a marked page.
Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You aren't going to leave a woman to her own devices?"
"Mm, and what devices would those be?" Jack asked, looking up to Elizabeth with a teasing smile before continuing on. "You would rather be left alone to sulk like the pathetic grey cloud that is What'shisface?"
Elizabeth thought on it for a moment, admitting to herself she was just shaming Norrington for his unwavering sour attitude, shutting the entire crew out. "I suppose not."
She crossed to Jack's bed and hesitated a moment before laying down. The bed was still a humble one compared to what she was accustomed to. Even so, she wasn't sure what to make of Jack's giving nature, this newfound selflessness. It was so unlike him.
Elizabeth pulled back the covers and laid down, facing the cabin. She began to actually take in her surroundings, the writing desk, a large chest, stacks of charts and sea journals, however, her eyes couldn't help but fall once more upon Jack, his tricorn hat just blocking the view of what he was reading. His crossed leg was absentmindedly moving with the rocking of the ship and her heavy-lidded eyes followed the movement until the rustle of a turning page stirred her out of her tired trance. She couldn't remember the last time she had a decent amount of rest.
Elizabeth turned on her side, staring at the wooden panels making up the wall of the ship which offered no distractions from her thoughts. She wasn't starting to fancy Jack like Norrington said. She wasn't. It was an idea he planted into her head, no truth in the matter. This small act of kindness was nothing more than what Jack said, a Captain doing what he should for a woman aboard.
Elizabeth pulled her knees closer in on herself and they gently hit the wall in the cramped space. She nuzzled her head against the worn pillow, trying to get comfortable then stilled. She turned her face further into the pillow and inhaled softly, smelling spiced liquor. Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself not to think, not to dream, but only welcome in darkness, a momentary escape from the jumble of confusing events of her consciousness.
.
Stirred from sleep once again, Elizabeth sighed, rolling onto her back. She stared up into blackness, but she was hyperaware of the wooden panels above her, boxing her in, made to feel like a corpse. A frustrated corpse. It was the third time she woke up in the same night. She should have skipped sleep entirely and kept Norrington company.
Elizabeth turned back onto her side, facing the wall. She shut her eyes and inhaled the faint hint of spiced liquor, pressing her knees together tightly.
She frowned at her own desires. It was natural, yes, but why now of all times, laying in Jack's bed. She pulled her lip into her mouth, wondering if she could get away with—No. She shouldn't even risk it. Should she?
Elizabeth turned onto her back then snuck a glance over at where Jack rested on the floor. The lantern was out and she took the sound of even breathing as a sign he was out as well. She couldn't know for sure as he was just a dark form swallowed up by more darkness. Elizabeth rolled onto her side once more, her mouth turning down. She pressed her knees together again and a moment later rolled her eyes at herself, relenting by shoving her hand down the front of her pants. She would be quick. It would be fine.
She bit down on her mouth at the feeling of her fingers slipping inside easily, more than ready from images of desire that played in her mind against her will. Will. She worked slower than she ought to, dreaming up what could have happened days ago, sharing a wedding bed with him. Elizabeth pressed her face further into the pillow, inhaling the spiced liquor once again.
Her hips jutted forward and she swallowed down a gasp when the visions in her mind altered, the hands at her waist changing, no longer Will's hands, careful with the touch of a blacksmith, but hands with dirt caked under the nails, wearing rings, and smoothing across her skin with a practiced, romantic flourish.
Elizabeth pulled the sheet taut over her chest once laid on her back again, stiff as a board. She glanced over helplessly in the darkness. She heard only the rocking of the ship and that even breathing.
Confident in that, she remained on her back, her hand meeting warmth once again. She closed her eyes and thought, what the hell, it was only her imagination.
Elizabeth allowed herself to fall into her secret desires, Jack above her, his hand in place of her own. She worked further into herself, taking her time, wondering what he would say to her.
"I think I know what you want most," he would whisper into her ear, referencing the function of his compass as he curved his fingers inside, playing with her perfectly.
"So certain of yourself," she would breathlessly counter.
"I have every reason to be, love. I can feel it. I can feel how much you want it."
Elizabeth parted her legs further and she drew her free hand into her hair. He was so frustrating. All leading lines and teasing nature, smoothing his mustache or brushing his index and middle finger over his bottom lip as he spoke to her about mundane matters, knowing every bit what he was doing.
"Manipulative pirate," Elizabeth whispered aloud. She dipped her fingers in deeper. She just wanted to know what it was like, what it was like with Jack. Just once.
"You will come over to my side, I know it," he told her earlier that day. Or rather, yesterday, by now.
Elizabeth turned onto her side, facing the wall again, imagining Jack inside, her letting him in, pulling him in as close as possible, as much as possible.
He was right. Of course he was right.
A breathy moan fell from her lips, and she clasped a hand over her mouth.
"Swann," Jack's voice broke the night and Elizabeth swallowed harshly, drawing her hand away and pausing in panic for a moment before hastily brushing her fingers against the blanket. "If you're having night terrors, I hope you don't expect me to hold you—"
"I'm fine. I," Elizabeth was surprised she managed to find her voice but she paused to clear it, it coming out breathier than she intended. "I thought I saw something," she whispered, rushed, hopeful he would let the moment pass.
"What did you think you see?" Jack asked, a sudden edge in his voice. She heard him shifting and the sudden sound of his boots across the floorboards.
Elizabeth drew her hands up to her face, hot with embarrassment, but she quickly lowered them.
"Nothing. I'm sure it was nothing,"—It was everything, her mind unhelpfully corrected. Everything with you. "Nothing, Jack."
The strike of a match sounded and Jack lit the lantern again, stepping towards Elizabeth. He blinked at her, bleary-eyed. With his tired expression and without his hat and pompous nature, she was irritated with him for looking so embraceable.
"Nothing? You're sure? Nothing?" Jack asked, and he sounded genuinely worried before hastening over to a porthole, peering out into the darkness.
"I assure you it was my unhelpful imagination," Elizabeth said, leaning up on her elbows only to huff out in irritation when she bumped her head. She leaned back and rubbed at the smarting spot, wondering why Jack seemed wound so tight. Why was he looking troubled out at the sea? Was the sea not his comfort? His home?
"Unhelpful imagination," Jack murmured, stepping back towards her. Jack slid down the wall, leaning against it at the foot of the bed.
Elizabeth laid on her side and drew her knees up to her chest, frustrated by the unresolved desire between her legs.
"Grows only stronger at night. Grows only stronger a night at sea." Jack turned to her. "What was it?"
"What?"
"What you imagined."
Elizabeth rested onto her back.
"Wickedness," she whispered.
"Wickedness," Jack echoed. "No… appendages I hope."
Elizabeth tensed in Jack's bed. "What?"
"Elongated organs," Jack stopped speaking for a moment and Elizabeth pressed her knees together, "of a sea beast? Muscular and slimy and suctioning and—"
Elizabeth frowned, the interest between her legs effectively dulled momentarily. "Jack, what are you going on about?"
"Nothing. Old… pirate wives' tale." He offered a short and manic high laugh as explanation before clearing his throat to draw his voice low once more. "Alright then. Nighty-night."
Elizabeth gritted her teeth. She was not only sexually frustrated but frustrated frustrated now. Everyone was keeping something from her. Including herself.
She stood and stepped towards Jack, pillow and blanket in hand. She kneeled next to him and he started back a bit at her nearness in the near-darkness.
"I can't sleep either." She nestled in close to Jack's side and Jack stiffened. "Might as well be miserable together."
"I give you my bed and you still choose the floor." Jack threw his hands up helplessly. "You're maddening, Swann."
"You're maddening, Sparrow," she muttered, trying to fluff up the pillow.
"If I'm so maddening, why are you so close now, dearie?"
"I'm doing what you told me to," Elizabeth answered, laying on her side. She took a moment to study Jack's features, aglow from the light of the lantern. The way the light played in his dark eyes was inviting, so inviting she couldn't help but rest her hand against the side of his face. Jack's eyebrows drew together and in the same moment Elizabeth's eyes fell to his lips. "Acting on selfish impulse," she said in a rush.
Jack's eyes colored with understanding. Elizabeth took him by the wrist. She looked up at him questioningly, drawing his hand down to her waist.
"I knew it," Jack murmured through a half-formed smile just before Elizabeth kissed him.
A first kiss shouldn't feel so familiar, so easy, she thought. Elizabeth searched deeper, her fingers threading through Jack's hair. She shuddered with want when his hands finished what she initiated, sliding under fabric skillfully and dipping inside her in the same motion. Elizabeth pulled Jack closer when he moaned at the feeling of her already pliable and slick. Elizabeth opened the kiss then grasped at Jack's forearm when his fingers circled above her entrance, drawing out a high, wavering sound from her, a near-laugh. It felt different when it was someone else's hand.
"You were just going to keep all the enjoyment to yourself?" Jack spoke against Elizabeth's mouth then drew her over top of him. Jack mumbled something else into her neck, but Elizabeth couldn't focus on words when his desire was so clear, pressing between her legs.
"What?"
"This would be easier if you were in a dress. Like I told you."
Elizabeth's mouth pulled up into a mischievous smile. "And when did I ever listen to you?"
"That's what makes you right fun, Swann," Jack said against her ear and there she was, laughing again when Jack turned her onto her back, resting against the pallet. He pushed at her waistband, helping her out of her pants.
Elizabeth gripped at Jack's hair again. His mouth. He went right in, not leaving a moment to waste before tasting her. Her hips lifted on their own accord as his tongue searched her. Jack pressed a kiss into her inner-thigh, and she felt the brush of a smile and his beard tickling at her skin. Jack's palms pressed into her thighs, parting her legs further and calming her trembling from want. His fingers dipped in again alongside his tongue and Elizabeth made fists in his hair and exhaled his name. She tugged at his hair again, wanting his mouth on hers once more.
As if Jack could read her, he was over her in an instant, meeting her mouth with his. Then there were those fluttering hands, working just as she imagined at the buttons of her shirt. Jack pushed aside the fabric, pooling at her elbows, then thumbed over her nipples. Elizabeth arched her back and panted out a gasp.
"You shouldn't feel this good," Elizabeth said suddenly as Jack pushed her shirt off the rest of the way.
"Makes it all the better," he whispered against her mouth, and the feeling of his smile against her lips only increased the want pooling between her legs. "Shouldn'ts."
Jack leaned Elizabeth closer, his rings tickling her back as he mouthed over a nipple. When he reached down to finger her again, Elizabeth gripped at his shoulders and arched into him, wanting to feel his skin on hers. However, she clung onto him as well as the bit of patience she had left, relishing in Jack's clever tongue. He blew gently over her skin and he hummed into her neck at her reactionary moan, pleased with himself.
"I think I know what you want most," Jack spoke into her neck then pressed a kiss there before drawing her in flush against him as he smoothed his hard cock along her hip.
Elizabeth blinked her eyes open at the sentence, the same words from her fantasy.
She didn't answer, just worked quickly at his shirt and the front of his pants.
Jack laughed, still laughing as Elizabeth ridded him of his shirt.
"I'll take that as a—"
Elizabeth kissed the words from Jack's mouth, pressing up against him. He stood for a moment, stepping out of his pants, then let out a comically startled sound when he was barely back to the ground and Elizabeth took him by the neck to meet his lips instantly.
They were on their sides, hands gripping at arms and shoulders, threading into hair, a tangled mess. Elizabeth tangled them further, hiking a leg over Jack's waist. She brushed her entrance against his want. Her mouth opened in a gasp as she shuddered against him from the near-feeling of getting what she wanted most. Jack's hands drew down to her waist, gripping sharply, and Elizabeth sighed at his fingers digging into her flesh. She composed herself for a moment, long enough to smooth her hands up to his shoulders and shift them ever so slightly to climb on top of him.
"Just couldn't keep your wickedness to yourself," Elizabeth whispered, drawing a hand up to Jack's chin to toy with his beard.
"Could say the same about you, love." Jack tipped Elizabeth's chin up and kissed her before gripping her by the waist, helping her ease onto him. "Except," his voice trailed off when Elizabeth gasped.
Elizabeth grabbed at Jack's shoulders from the shock of sudden fullness. Jack kissed the shock from her lips, smoothing his hands along the small of her back then lower, his fingers showering her with attention before raising her slightly, guiding her in a slow rhythm until she was hypnotized by the feeling.
"Except this isn't wickedness, Lizzie," Jack countered, his voice low and calming. "This is goodness. A moment of absolute goodness."
"Yes," Elizabeth whispered, grateful for the experience to want something and let herself have it.
Jack mouthed at a nipple and Elizabeth was nearly trembling again with each rise and fall. When he bit down gently, she pulled at his dreadlocks, a moan falling from her lips, chasing after his. Elizabeth found herself speaking still, nonsensical little whispered phrases, barely coherent sentences about curiosity and freedom and doing whatever she wanted, all of the thoughts dancing in her mind ever since their banter from the morning before.
Elizabeth leaned Jack onto his back, and she shuddered as certain sensations heightened, thrilling and all too much yet not enough, never enough.
She was glad she wasn't alone in slowly falling apart. Jack leaned forward, murmuring a string of "Swann"s in-between hungry kisses at her chest, her shoulder, her neck, wherever he could reach.
"Elizabeth," she offered, breathless.
"Elizabeth," Jack agreed, drawing out the first vowel, the want in his voice sending more heat deep within her even as she laughed, ever-amused by him.
They were working to get the other as close as possible now, rushed and heated, and Elizabeth felt herself becoming loud even to her own ears. Jack's fingertips brushed against Elizabeth's lips to quiet her, and when she simply bit down and kept their same pace, his head rolled back slightly, his eyes fluttering to a close with a sigh.
"You'll be the death of me, Swann," Jack whispered, a mix of pleasure and exasperation.
In that moment, with the dwindling candlelight glowing in her eyes, Elizabeth could smile before simply kissing Jack in reply. In that moment, she was unaware of the weight of the statement, how true it would become. She was blissfully nescient of the impending appearance of a sea beast, an entirely different kiss of her own—one not unlike that of Judas Iscariot—and a true introduction to wickedness.