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: 993

VI. Blacksmith's Passion

In the middle of the night, both Will and Jack made their escapes. Elizabeth had made some feeble excuse to see her father, claiming to be confused and upset by the day's ordeals. Will waited until he was certain she would not return that evening and crept quietly toward the jail. When he arrived, he discovered Jack's cell unguarded and empty. Realizing Jack had escaped without him, he sulked back to the house to contemplate a new plan of escape.

Laying quietly in bed, Will's thoughts turned to where Jack had gone. Had he escaped back to Norrington? What would they do together? What did they do together that Elizabeth had almost caught them doing? Will's mind drifted without his control and he imagined, seemingly against his will, how the two men must look in the throes of passion. Will wasn't a simpleton. He wasn't sure entirely about the details, but he'd had relations with women and he knew his own body well enough. Women had a hole intended for the man's penis to enter, but men lacked that hole. Nonetheless, men still had a perfectly good hole, even if the intentions for said hole were slightly different from a woman's. But what else was a man to do? A man had to enter somewhere. Two men… Well, at the very least, they could take turns. Unless one of the men particularly liked the entering to be done to him instead of by him. Will tried to shift his mind, but it was enraptured in its own plans for thought. Will assured himself that private thoughts, no matter how bizarre, were acceptable. After all, they were only thoughts. And so he allowed them to continue from that point on, undisturbed.

He tried to imagine Jack laying under Norrington, like a woman might. He thought of how Jack would toss and turn his head from side to side, making noises of considerable pleasure. Somehow, the image didn't work for him. Will tried to imagine the Commodore laying under Jack, but the idea of the Commodore experiencing any kind of passion seemed extraordinarily bizarre to Will. He mused, however, that Jack looked much better suited to the man's traditional position than Norrington had.

Will tried to erase Norrington's countenance from the mental image and just leave Jack with an anonymous partner. No such luck. Will simply wasn't imaginative enough. He couldn't see it. So, he tried to make a partner up for Jack – lean arms and legs, hard torso, tanned skin, brown eyes, curled locks… Will told himself he was imagining this for educational purposes, but he began to become aroused. The next thing Will knew, he was imagining how it would feel to be beneath Jack, to accept his weight and his length and his passion. Will exhaled deeply and said a silent prayer that Elizabeth would stay out all night.

Will reached beneath the covers of his bed, twisting around until he laid most comfortably. He removed his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. Elizabeth had always run her hands over his chest and he thought it felt quite good. He imagined Jack imitating the movement as he did so himself. Eyes shut tightly, he ran a calloused hand over his nipple and navel, downward and upward again. Touching his own chest, he imagined the feeling of Jack's. He thought it must be bonier, and he reached down further, feeling lightly annoyed that he had to stop rubbing his chest to pull down his pants.

Will wrapped his hand around himself and tugged. His hips rose and fell lightly, imitating the movements of intercourse. Will had been told that whores did delightful things with their mouths and Will lifted his hand to his tongue to wet it, then placed it back between his legs. He imagined Jack was putting his mouth on him instead of a whore. He didn't know what it would feel like as his endeavors with Elizabeth had always been unadventurous, but he put all his efforts into concentrating on it. He imagined the tongue licking, and the wetness and heat. Will didn't have a lot of success with imagining the oral activities, so instead he concentrated on what he knew: hands. He imagined Jack's hand pulled and pushed back at him instead of his own. Jack was a man and possessed, therefore, the advantage of knowing precisely how a man ought to be touched. This activity consumed his attentions for a while until he realized that his fantasy Jack must be awfully unsatisfied.

Feeling a little daring, Will reached around and touched a finger to his own entrance. It was very sensitive, but he was nervous to touch himself so. Thinking he might hurt himself, Will again licked his hand. He placed it back behind himself and pushed cautiously. He found that if he relaxed, a digit could be admitted with little discomfort. He tried to use a second, but his arm was crooked strangely and he began to feel uncomfortable. At least, however, he'd gotten the idea of the feeling of how it was to have a presence within him and he used this as a basis to imagine what Jack would feel like.

He imagined how Jack would slide, gently at first and then with growing fervor. Will worked diligently with his hand and his imagination, almost hearing Jack's cries of lust and exertion. Will thought of Jack growing so hard he could not contain himself, and the spasms that would shake them both in time. Will felt his own orgasm build, and he imagined the twitching in his groin mirrored in Jack's. Will spent soundlessly apart from one choked-out word: "Jack."

Will gasped and caught his breath. He reached down for his shirt and used it to clean his belly and hands, and tossed it to the floor. He pulled his breeches up and quickly fell asleep, physically overworked and emotionally exhausted.