Will trudged alongside Jack, glancing around the decadent pit stop that was Tortuga. He felt an honest twinge of loneliness every time he spotted a happy couple engaging in an overly sloppy PDA; even if it was a prostitute and her customer he felt a pit in his stomach. Even if it was a man and a man...Will had never felt more
confused. He felt a hand on is shoulder and jumped a mile. It was Jack. "Don't get your panties twisted in a bunch!" he rasped. "Tortuga will be as fine-looking to you as Miss Swann herself after a few days...and a few drinks." He smirked, Will glared back and glanced around uneasily in response. The boarding house had formerly been a brothel. It was run by a former madam with gaping holes in her mouth
where several teeth should have been. She greeted the crew with enthusiasm, especially the handsome young Will Turner. "Ooh, how'd a sweet piece of meat like you end up in a crew of misfits like this one?" her voice was low and full of spittle. Will backed away from her disgusting tobacco breath only to find Jack's hand on his
shoulder once again. 'This one's not for you, ma'am" Jack growled. The madam backed away from the pirate with her hands up. "Didn't know you swung that way, Sparrow," she hissed. Jack immediately removed his hand
from Will. Apparently he hadn't known either.

The crew was shown to their respective rooms. Due to the spatial
nature of the boarding house, the crew would have to share rooms. Jack
specifically asked for his own, private quarters, however. He felt
that he should still be entitled to his " captain's quarters" despite
not being on the Pearl. Jack soon claimed his room, a larger room with
a balcony, slightly farther down the hall from the others. It must
have been used when a " lady" had a very rich client who wanted extra
privacy. Jack's dark, kohl rimmed eyes scanned his new accommodations.
There was a large canopy bed with its headboard against the left wall,
with the balcony opening up to the left of the bed. The nightstand was
unfinished, on the right side of the bed. The hardwood floor was
scratched but clean. Jack flopped his duffle bag onto the floor and
collapsed onto the bed. The smell of the clean linen was an utter
delight for a man who had been at sea the better part of his life.
Just as he began to relax, a crashing sound snapped him out of
whatever relaxed state he had been in. He rushed into the hallway, only
to find a few of his less than valuable newer crew members in an all
out brawl, with young Will Turner trapped in the middle. Jack used his
influence to break up the fight, and hastily took young Will under his arm and into his room. " What was going on out there, Will?" Jack
asked as he brushed the imaginary dust from his young friend's
shoulders. Will's eyes bore a hole into the floor below him. "
Captain." he began, with an expression of complete humiliation. "They wanted to have their way with me."

Jack was slightly amazed, but not too surprised seeing as Will was quite the strapping young man. He motioned to Will. "Come out onto the balcony, and the fresh air might clear your head." Will tentatively stepped out into the cool night air, as though he expected more assailants to jump out at any moment. Jack wandered up behind Will and mumbled, "I understand not wanting to talk about
the...situation...but if you really need to..." Will glanced over his shoulder and then turned back out to the crashing waves of the sea. They seemed to echo both of the men's restless natures. Will shivered in the cold breeze coming off of the sea. Jack ventured back inside, coming out with some chipped mugs steaming with hot ale. 'This might help. It always helps me, anyways." he cheerfully raised his in a toast. Will glanced at him unenthusiastically and then downed his in one gulp, trying to drown his sorrows in the liquor. Jack did the same. They both rested their mugs on the wrought iron railing. Will looked over and was surprised to see Jack looking at him almost tenderly, which he hadn't expected from the hardened pirate. It softened his stony heart just slightly. Just slightly enough that when Jack moved close enough for his whiskey breath to be hot on his face, that he didn't move. He didn't twitch uncomfortably; he didn't look away. He was being giving a look of such loving that he hadn't been on the receiving end of in months. So when Jack grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in for a rough, drunken kiss, he didn't resist at all. He was surprised, but not resistant in the slightest. He needed that kiss, whether it be from a man or a woman.