Title: Gin

Author: Berne

Rating: PG

Characters: Sparrington

Warnings: Slash, i.e. male/male relationship

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Gore Verbinski, Ted Elliot, and Terry Rossio, various studios including but not limited to First Mate Productions Inc., Jerry Bruckheimer Films, and Walt Disney Pictures. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.AN: Love toOciwen for the beta. Written for Buzzing Bie's request.

Gin

When James stepped into his bedroom he certainly hadn't expected Jack to be sprawled out across his favourite antique chair as though he were a particularly shiny part of the furniture.

"James!" Jack attempted to rise, but he abruptly sank back again, frowning. "I think m' bones've melted."

"Or," said James, setting straight the empty decanter balanced precariously on the desk, "you could be utterly sozzled on my gin."

"Gin," echoed Jack wonderingly.

"Yes. Very expensive, imported gin at that. How on earth did you find it?"

James was positive he had kept it in Mrs Yates' capable hands. She wasn't usually a woman easily won over by Jack's wiles.

After several tries, Jack managed to sit up and lean forward conspiratorially. "I think you've got competition, James, love. Your housekeeper couldn't keep her hands off me."

James snorted. "She slapped you?"

Grumbling under his breath, Jack proceeded to slide off the chair. James darted forward just in time to catch his shirt collar and drag him onto his feet. He managed to half-stumble, half-drag Jack (who was being absolutely no help at all, tracing a wet path down James' neck with his tongue) until they reached the bed, where they collapsed together in a tangle of limbs.

Jack laughed, somewhat mournfully, a hot flush of breath against James' ear. "I came early for you, you know. It being Christmas and all."

Slithering and shifting until he could feel Jack's gin-doused breath stinging his face, James wrinkled his nose. "And that gave you cause for celebration, I suppose?"

Jack let out a wail loud enough to make James clap a hand over his mouth. Jack bit it and, when James yelped, licked an apology up his palm. "I wanted to see you and you weren't here." The words were mumbled against his skin, followed by another warm swipe of tongue.

"I was at dinner with Elizabeth."

"Ah, Elizabeth." Jack looked thoughtful. "Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth. How's the bonny lass, eh? And William! Dear Will. They make a proper pretty pair, they do." His eyes glittered wickedly. "Imagine inviting them over for…" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, stop it." James wrapped an arm around Jack's waist, pulling him closer and heaving in a (most probably hazardous) breath of salt-sweat-gin. "Must you corrupt everything?"

He felt Jack grin against his neck. "'Course I must. 'S my responsibility and my duty and my--" A yawn cut off the rest of his ramblings.

"Are the crew in Tortuga?"

"Mmm."

"Anamaria?"

"Groves."

"Ah. They're still courting?"

"Going at it like rabbits, more like."

"Jack!"

"Hush up, Commodore. 'M sleeping."

James watched Jack until his breathing evened out (the novelty never wore off -- no one could ever get the man to stay this still while awake), then he planted a kiss on his forehead and slept, Jack's breath warming his neck.