Title: The Afterglow
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)
Warnings: violence, character death
Summary: Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl.
Disclaimer: At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.
Word Count: 1,105

IV. Please

By evening, the pair were again heavily intoxicated with wine. Norrington sent the servants home, so as to have full run of the house with Jack. He gave little thought to Elizabeth's absence and neglected to mention her to Jack. It was just as well for his ego that Jack thought the Commodore desperate. He would find it hard to admit that he wanted Jack even when he could have taken other partners.

Jack stood theatrically, telling a ridiculously spun tale. The Commodore shook his reservations about Elizabeth as he listened from the edge of the bed.

"Human hair," Jack made a stern face, "from my back." Then Jack giggled, revealing his farce, and the Commodore roared with laughter.

"It is a wonder how anyone ever falls for your stories," he criticized playfully.

"Aye, but it isn't a wonder how anyone falls for me," Jack's smile turned saccharin. Without moving his eyes from Norrington's face, Jack dropped his glass on the table and sauntered across the room. He knelt over Norrington's lap on the bed.

"So it would seem," Norrington replied. "So it would seem."

Jack bent low and kissed him, using one hand to push Norrington down onto the bed. The Commodore groaned under Jack's practiced and sensual touch.

"Will you be remembering me in the morning, or should I prepare to sneak out before you wake?" Jack teased.

"I appreciate your noise, Mr. Sparrow, but not your talk."

Jack laughed and began to shed his clothes.

"That's Captain," Jack whispered seductively into his ear, "if you please."

The Commodore grumbled good naturedly and pulled his fingers through the lesser tangled parts of Jack's hair. He was hesitant to show affection for Jack, but not at all bashful to accept it from him. His hips rose and fell under Jack's pressing body. He lolled his head to either side to expose his neck to Jack's caress. Jack pulled at the tender skin with his teeth and the Commodore released moans of near-desperation.

Jack put his hand between them and rubbed the lower half of Norrington's body. His hands worked leisurely, but with purpose, and he shifted his weight to allow the removal of clothes. With surprising tenderness, Jack guided the Commodore to right himself on the bed and laid atop his chest. Jack sighed contentedly into Norrington's ear when his back was touched with teasing hands. The colors of their skin contrasted and shimmered as they rubbed together in the summer heat and sun.

"Jack…" The Commodore breathed headily.

"Mmmm," Jack hummed around an earlobe.

Norrington grunted in indignant frustration.

"Say it," Jack growled, barely loud enough to be heard.

"Jack…" Norrington hesitated, "please…"

Jack pressed his body down hard, the muscles of his arms and legs and back tightening with the strain of sudden movement. The Commodore arched his body toward Jack and pushed him up. He ran his hands down Jack's chest to his groin and Jack bucked forward. Norrington was shy at first, almost demure. His hand moved tentatively as he forced himself to grow accustomed to the unfamiliar feeling of Jack's body. Surprised by the sudden contact, Jack moved his hand from its former task and used it to hold himself steady. He lifted his head and let Norrington work on him undisturbed, until he heard low rasps of desire.

Clumsily, Jack grasped for his bottle of oil. He poured some into his hands and sitting between Norrington's knees, rubbed the oil on him. With a quickness, Jack bent forward and readied himself. Norrington's eyelids fell to half mast as Jack straddled him. He gave a pained-sounding moan when Jack began to lower himself.

"Is this going to be the death of you, old man?" Jack queried.

"Indeed, I am an old man," Norrington answered, "but what a way to meet my end."

Jack chuckled. "I knew you'd warm up to me."

"Always flattering yourself," The Commodore chided. "What a way to meet my end… I'll be sent right to hell! Not to mention the state they'd find me in after you've run off!"

Jack wiggled his hips for attention. It worked. The Commodore held him still and pushed up to meet him.

"God," Jack croaked.

"There's damnation enough in this room," Norrington replied, and they both gave choked laughs before falling entirely to task.

The Commodore, however, was not entirely content to lay flat while Jack set the pace. His need blazed and he lifted Jack up, but when he tried to slip out from under him, Jack looked startled. Wordlessly, he allowed himself to be guided until he lay on his back, all sinew and hardness laid out vulnerably, like a woman. Hastily, Jack stuffed a pillow under his back. Norrington voiced no complaint or pleasure, even as he sank down onto Jack. The Commodore noted the different sounds he provoked in Jack by thrusting with various speeds and pressure and angles. Once he felt he had a decent idea of Jack's reactions, he determined he'd get Jack back for making him say 'please.' He trust with infuriating irregularity until Jack nearly howled at every touch.

"Norrington," Jack panted. He clawed at the Commodore's back and entwined their legs, trying desperately to get him to push faster, harder… anything but this agony! Norrington bent beside Jack's ear.

"Say it," he whispered.

"Make me," Jack hissed venomously. The Commodore slammed into Jack, giving him just what he wanted and then stopping abruptly. Jack whimpered.

"Say it," Norrington urged.

Jack whined.

"Say it!" Norrington spat the syllables. He held Jack's hips still on the bed. He feigned the beginning of a thrust and withdrew teasingly before he could push all the way forward. That did it. Jack roared, forgetting his pride.

"Ah, Commodore," his strange accent came pouring out into the heated air. "Commodore, Please!" He shouted. Norrington thrust a single time.

"Again," he demanded of Jack, sensing his receptive state.

Clawing madly, Jack shouted again, "please! Aye, damn, Norrington! I need it…Please, please more –" but Jack was cut off by the Commodore's furious passion. His words turned to unintelligible grunts and moans.

"Touch me. Aye, God, put your hand on me," Jack pleaded.

The Commodore leaned heavily on one elbow to fulfill the request. In a matter of moments, Jack spilled over his own belly. He wrapped his legs around the Commodore's back to aid the force of the impact with his own legs. Twitching with release, Jack expelled a flood of foul language, begging the Commodore for more and harder. Norrington had never heard such flattering talk, but it made his orgasm quick and bestial.