Warning: SLASH! Will, thinking about Jack in non-platonic ways, if you
don't like boys touching, run. Now.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Just borrowing. (nods)
-Fanning the Spark-
It started with a spark. Our conflict; how our personalities clashed. Me glaring, him grinning. Me brash, him calm and collected. I wanted to hate him. But there was always an attraction. A 'something' between us. I would not have killed him back in the smithy, not that I had the chance. I wanted to hate him so much.
But he was just too...loveable. Which I guess explains the allure. Everything he does draws me to him. His swaying hips, his grins, his cocky replies. All things I hate, and yet find myself loving so much more.
The spark was small at first. A tiny clash. Just small chemistry. I could have been rid of it before it grew. Unfortunately, being in the vicinity of him simply fed the flame. Small fights, little disagreements, a few laughs. I was fanning the spark, unknowingly pushing myself further into this mess.
It began with his small touches. Showing me how to tie a rope just so, steer just so, and even when he talked to me, grasping my shoulders and holding for few seconds before losing contact. Each touch I felt a soft burn, something I couldn't comprehend at the time and to my embarrassment, led me to blush.
It was silly of me to respond to his touch. They didn't mean anything, I told myself. Each one was just a temporary place for his hands to rest once in awhile before they were flitting all over the place again. He really was a mad man. I would have assumed his touches and general invasion of personal space was just his way and that he truly meant nothing by it. By this point my grasp on hating him was slipping. Traits I had thought despicable and vile I was beginning to see as endearing in him, and it disconcerted me greatly. I caught other hints, apart from the touching, from him that were none too subtle.
First night on he Interceptor I was at the wheel and Jack was taking a much- needed rum break, or so he claimed. It was early evening and he had been steering most of the day so I had offered to man the wheel for a time. I was filled with worries about Elizabeth, of course, and not paying much attention to Jack. Was she all right? Where was she now? Would they have hurt her? How was she coping? My mind was filled with wonderings. I was also taking in that my father had been a pirate, something I had only just learned.
I was broken from my frets when I felt eyes on me, and looked to see Jack leaning on the railing, rum bottle in hand, staring at me through half- lidded eyes. I took notice that the once full bottle was almost completely depleted. I was close to asking him what he wanted, but decided against it and tried to concentrate on lightly holding the wheel.
When his staring didn't desist, I felt myself begin to colour. There was that heat again and clenching in my lower abdomen, simply from him looking at me. Eventually he drifted off to his cabin to get some sleep before his night shift at the wheel came. The heat didn't leave for a while after he disappeared. It was then I could tell that there was definitely a spark.
If he touched me more often now, I pretended not to notice. This was what he always did, right? Invade your personal space, lean on you, speak in that lovely drawl. I would have liked to think it had no effect on me. I mean, for Heaven's sake, Jack was a man! But it did. I didn't understand at first why my body seemed to react the way it did. I pushed it aside, telling myself it was simply because I was missing Elizabeth and worried for her safety.
But what was Elizabeth to me anyway? She was a childhood friend whom later became an unreachable fantasy when she was forced to become a lady of society. I did care greatly for her, and would do anything for her, but I found my desire for her becoming less and less as time passed with this maniacal man. He was everything she was not, even in gender. It's ironic how this might have been what I truly wanted, the opposite of my original desire. If he noticed my scarlet blushes when his touches lingered, he did not show it.
The days we spent together before we reached Tortuga drove me insane. I caught him staring at me with the same intensity as the first night often; he was dancing circles around me, lightly touching but breaking away before any actual contact was reached. There was one night when I thought he would make the contact, cross the line instead of carefully dancing around it. He was telling me of the sea and freedom, describing his Pearl to me in great detail. I could see how much he loved that ship and something stirred inside me, I think now was jealousy. His rum he held loosely in his hand; he was leaning on the wheel while I stood listening to him. There was a certain calm out. I got lost in his words; he became so passionate when speaking of her. There was almost something poetic about what he said. So he startled me when the speech stopped and his face was leaned close to mine, our lips suddenly inches away and I felt my entire body heat in the moment. As fast as it had begun it was over and he was off to eat a bit of the rations on board. I blamed it on the rum. We had both been drinking rum. I imagined, that if I had leaned closer and captured his lips he would have tasted of rum and spice.
These were the thoughts that scared me. The imaginings and strange wants and wishes and desires that were so unlike anything I had wanted before. So it wasn't surprising that when we reached Tortuga in search for a crew I was relieved. Company on board I hoped would distract me from the flamboyant captain, as well as help me concentrate on the task at hand. Saving Elizabeth. That should have been my main concern.
I couldn't help but smirk when Jack was slapped by two... ladies of comfort. However, I was caught off guard by the next slap Jack received. A young man with tanned skin and auburn hair walked up to us, his eyes blazing. Jack smirked delightedly as he had when he had seen the ladies. And, like the ladies, this young man had slapped Jack so hard his head snapped back. The man then walked off in a huff, though I could tell he was satisfied. I looked to Jack with wide eyes, but he refused to meet my gaze after that encounter. I had a feeling Jack had deserved that one.
After waking the man Jack called Gibbs, I followed them to the tavern, but of course was put on watch. I eavesdropped best I could, and when Jack spoke of leverage I knew he meant me. Anger boiled silently inside of me. He had made me not hate him, trust him, even made me...whatever the bloody hell I felt for him now was, and he was going to trade my life for a ship! Or so I thought. Maybe I am just confused. What had he meant?
I was suspicious and confused when Jack invited me to sit down with him for a drink after Gibbs left. I questioned him on the crew and he assured me Gibbs knew what he was doing. We started talking, though I wasn't really paying attention as to what we spoke of. Even now with pleasant conversation there was something intense between us. His eyes were smoky in the candle-lit bar and I found my eyes were drawn to his shining baubles that reflected the low-lit flames.
When he fell while getting up from the table, I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when I caught him and wrapped my arms about his waist. After, I shouldn't have been surprised when he grasped my forearms, and then, catching my eyes, slowly proceeded to move his hands up my arms to my shoulders, then to my neck, and then to cup my face. I shouldn't have been surprised when suddenly his lips were on mine. I suppose I also shouldn't have been too shocked when I started to kiss him back. It was a frenzied passionate locking of lips and our teeth hit and our tongues slid and our mouths sucked.
With all of this already happening I shouldn't have been surprised when he stared at me with lust-filled eyes, the way he had always looked at me I realize, and dragged me to his room. What proceeded in that dark room in Tortuga should not have surprised me either.
But it did. I am still in shock now. The feeling of him on me, lips on my neck, on my body, the small spark it once was unleashed, crackling and flowing between us, a heat underneath our skin peeled back in a furious passion.
Yes, I was surprised, and even more afraid than I had been in the beginning, I realize as I now lie next to him in this bed. His legs are entangled with mine and he is lying face down, sprawled over my chest. I had thought maybe he would have left me before I woke, and yet he stayed in the bed. It strangely comforts me. I fear that the once small spark has been ignited into a ferocious bonfire that I will fall victim to and be left behind as a cooling obsolete ash. A victim of this intoxicating flame, simply to be later replaced by something, or someone, new. For as I look down at this man splayed across my chest I see that what I feared all along has come to pass. I love him.
A/N: Yay, my first Jack/Will fic. Don't know what took me so long to write one of these...Anyway, if enough interest sparks I might write a companion piece for this, from Jack's POV probably. Review! I love it!
Disclaimer: Don't own. Just borrowing. (nods)
-Fanning the Spark-
It started with a spark. Our conflict; how our personalities clashed. Me glaring, him grinning. Me brash, him calm and collected. I wanted to hate him. But there was always an attraction. A 'something' between us. I would not have killed him back in the smithy, not that I had the chance. I wanted to hate him so much.
But he was just too...loveable. Which I guess explains the allure. Everything he does draws me to him. His swaying hips, his grins, his cocky replies. All things I hate, and yet find myself loving so much more.
The spark was small at first. A tiny clash. Just small chemistry. I could have been rid of it before it grew. Unfortunately, being in the vicinity of him simply fed the flame. Small fights, little disagreements, a few laughs. I was fanning the spark, unknowingly pushing myself further into this mess.
It began with his small touches. Showing me how to tie a rope just so, steer just so, and even when he talked to me, grasping my shoulders and holding for few seconds before losing contact. Each touch I felt a soft burn, something I couldn't comprehend at the time and to my embarrassment, led me to blush.
It was silly of me to respond to his touch. They didn't mean anything, I told myself. Each one was just a temporary place for his hands to rest once in awhile before they were flitting all over the place again. He really was a mad man. I would have assumed his touches and general invasion of personal space was just his way and that he truly meant nothing by it. By this point my grasp on hating him was slipping. Traits I had thought despicable and vile I was beginning to see as endearing in him, and it disconcerted me greatly. I caught other hints, apart from the touching, from him that were none too subtle.
First night on he Interceptor I was at the wheel and Jack was taking a much- needed rum break, or so he claimed. It was early evening and he had been steering most of the day so I had offered to man the wheel for a time. I was filled with worries about Elizabeth, of course, and not paying much attention to Jack. Was she all right? Where was she now? Would they have hurt her? How was she coping? My mind was filled with wonderings. I was also taking in that my father had been a pirate, something I had only just learned.
I was broken from my frets when I felt eyes on me, and looked to see Jack leaning on the railing, rum bottle in hand, staring at me through half- lidded eyes. I took notice that the once full bottle was almost completely depleted. I was close to asking him what he wanted, but decided against it and tried to concentrate on lightly holding the wheel.
When his staring didn't desist, I felt myself begin to colour. There was that heat again and clenching in my lower abdomen, simply from him looking at me. Eventually he drifted off to his cabin to get some sleep before his night shift at the wheel came. The heat didn't leave for a while after he disappeared. It was then I could tell that there was definitely a spark.
If he touched me more often now, I pretended not to notice. This was what he always did, right? Invade your personal space, lean on you, speak in that lovely drawl. I would have liked to think it had no effect on me. I mean, for Heaven's sake, Jack was a man! But it did. I didn't understand at first why my body seemed to react the way it did. I pushed it aside, telling myself it was simply because I was missing Elizabeth and worried for her safety.
But what was Elizabeth to me anyway? She was a childhood friend whom later became an unreachable fantasy when she was forced to become a lady of society. I did care greatly for her, and would do anything for her, but I found my desire for her becoming less and less as time passed with this maniacal man. He was everything she was not, even in gender. It's ironic how this might have been what I truly wanted, the opposite of my original desire. If he noticed my scarlet blushes when his touches lingered, he did not show it.
The days we spent together before we reached Tortuga drove me insane. I caught him staring at me with the same intensity as the first night often; he was dancing circles around me, lightly touching but breaking away before any actual contact was reached. There was one night when I thought he would make the contact, cross the line instead of carefully dancing around it. He was telling me of the sea and freedom, describing his Pearl to me in great detail. I could see how much he loved that ship and something stirred inside me, I think now was jealousy. His rum he held loosely in his hand; he was leaning on the wheel while I stood listening to him. There was a certain calm out. I got lost in his words; he became so passionate when speaking of her. There was almost something poetic about what he said. So he startled me when the speech stopped and his face was leaned close to mine, our lips suddenly inches away and I felt my entire body heat in the moment. As fast as it had begun it was over and he was off to eat a bit of the rations on board. I blamed it on the rum. We had both been drinking rum. I imagined, that if I had leaned closer and captured his lips he would have tasted of rum and spice.
These were the thoughts that scared me. The imaginings and strange wants and wishes and desires that were so unlike anything I had wanted before. So it wasn't surprising that when we reached Tortuga in search for a crew I was relieved. Company on board I hoped would distract me from the flamboyant captain, as well as help me concentrate on the task at hand. Saving Elizabeth. That should have been my main concern.
I couldn't help but smirk when Jack was slapped by two... ladies of comfort. However, I was caught off guard by the next slap Jack received. A young man with tanned skin and auburn hair walked up to us, his eyes blazing. Jack smirked delightedly as he had when he had seen the ladies. And, like the ladies, this young man had slapped Jack so hard his head snapped back. The man then walked off in a huff, though I could tell he was satisfied. I looked to Jack with wide eyes, but he refused to meet my gaze after that encounter. I had a feeling Jack had deserved that one.
After waking the man Jack called Gibbs, I followed them to the tavern, but of course was put on watch. I eavesdropped best I could, and when Jack spoke of leverage I knew he meant me. Anger boiled silently inside of me. He had made me not hate him, trust him, even made me...whatever the bloody hell I felt for him now was, and he was going to trade my life for a ship! Or so I thought. Maybe I am just confused. What had he meant?
I was suspicious and confused when Jack invited me to sit down with him for a drink after Gibbs left. I questioned him on the crew and he assured me Gibbs knew what he was doing. We started talking, though I wasn't really paying attention as to what we spoke of. Even now with pleasant conversation there was something intense between us. His eyes were smoky in the candle-lit bar and I found my eyes were drawn to his shining baubles that reflected the low-lit flames.
When he fell while getting up from the table, I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when I caught him and wrapped my arms about his waist. After, I shouldn't have been surprised when he grasped my forearms, and then, catching my eyes, slowly proceeded to move his hands up my arms to my shoulders, then to my neck, and then to cup my face. I shouldn't have been surprised when suddenly his lips were on mine. I suppose I also shouldn't have been too shocked when I started to kiss him back. It was a frenzied passionate locking of lips and our teeth hit and our tongues slid and our mouths sucked.
With all of this already happening I shouldn't have been surprised when he stared at me with lust-filled eyes, the way he had always looked at me I realize, and dragged me to his room. What proceeded in that dark room in Tortuga should not have surprised me either.
But it did. I am still in shock now. The feeling of him on me, lips on my neck, on my body, the small spark it once was unleashed, crackling and flowing between us, a heat underneath our skin peeled back in a furious passion.
Yes, I was surprised, and even more afraid than I had been in the beginning, I realize as I now lie next to him in this bed. His legs are entangled with mine and he is lying face down, sprawled over my chest. I had thought maybe he would have left me before I woke, and yet he stayed in the bed. It strangely comforts me. I fear that the once small spark has been ignited into a ferocious bonfire that I will fall victim to and be left behind as a cooling obsolete ash. A victim of this intoxicating flame, simply to be later replaced by something, or someone, new. For as I look down at this man splayed across my chest I see that what I feared all along has come to pass. I love him.
A/N: Yay, my first Jack/Will fic. Don't know what took me so long to write one of these...Anyway, if enough interest sparks I might write a companion piece for this, from Jack's POV probably. Review! I love it!