Disclaimer: not mine, don't sue
He was exquisite, tendrils of escaped, wavy brown hair framing his face and accentuating his high cheekbones.
His eyes were wide and luminous, sparkling with an ethereal light.
But his smile was the feature that caused Captain Jack Sparrow's mouth to gape unbecomingly, to gawk in fascination.
It was a stunning smile, filled with so much life and spirit that it made Jack's jaded heart ache, made him yearn to lean into that smile and taste it for himself.
The smile turned into a knowing smirk as the boy repeated his earlier words, drawling, "Looking for someone?"
Closing his mouth abruptly and blinking to clear the sudden haze that had descended upon him, Jack croaked, "Yes."
Horrified at the embarrassingly, pathetically high pitch that had just emerged from his mouth, Jack cleared his throat grandly.
"Do you know who I should look for?" He leered openly at the boy, winking at him.
Hooking his fingers in the waistband of his worn pants, the boy blushed slightly, looking down bashfully as the waistband was drawn down slightly, revealing a tantalizing expense of milky skin.
Gulping noticeably, Jack's eyes bulged as he fumed inwardly at the actions of the boy.
Bloody Tease.
His eyes drawn irresistibly towards the exposed skin, Jack could feel a mixture of anger and respect mingling inside him.
Anger at how he was being taken for a ride, evident by the small glint of satisfaction in the boy's eyes.
Respect at how skillfully the boy was doing it, so much so that Jack could feel the lust inside him overpowering the dying embers of anger.
"Giselle's always good," the boy grinned.
"What if I said I wanted you?" Jack countered, licking his lips anticipatively.
"Then you're not in luck," the boy answered flippantly. Shrugging his shoulders almost apologetically, he smiled. "I'm not for sale."
Without another word, he slipped nimbly past a shell-shocked Jack.
*******
Recovering his senses, Jack whirled around and gave chase, only to watch the boy dart in and out of the stumbling drunks, seemingly towards a festive building that was currently festooned with blazing lights and blustering customers.
Grabbing the nearest buxom wench, he gestured frantically, forcibly turning her head in the direction the boy had ran in.
"Who is he?" Jack asked urgently, his eyes transfixed at the sight.
"That's Will," the heavily made up woman said promptly, a hint of affection in her tone. "He belongs to the Commodore."
Author's note: Uh-oh. Hee.
