More Peril, Less Profit

Pirates of the Caribbean. Jack/Will/Elizabeth. PG-13. 975 words.

It was not often that Elizabeth courted a drunken state.

More Peril, Less Profit

It was not often that Elizabeth courted a drunken state. Will presumed this to be mostly on account of how like all her myriad pursuits, Elizabeth did not take to the task lightly. She was swift to learn that draining bottles with Jack resulted in the crew having quite the tales to tell.

However, Will noted as a giggle sounded from the bed behind him, ‘not often’ was a far cry from ‘never’.

“Do the trick with your tongue,” Elizabeth said. Her cheeks were rosy enough to pass for rouged, and her eyes shone like the pearls dripping from her ears. She was draped over Jack’s bare chest, her hair piled atop her head and pinned by a pair of jewelled sticks that’d fetch a fine price if she was willing to be rid of them when they hit Tortuga.

“Which one?” Jack asked, narrowing an eye in suspicion.

“The one that I can’t do!”

“There are a lot of those,” Jack remarked slyly, and tossed a wink over her head to Will.

A hot flush crept through the muscles of Will’s back and he struggled to neither blush nor laugh as he fixed his attention on his mending. Not unsurprisingly, he found it difficult to push out of his mind the lascivious smile that doubtless curved Jack’s mouth, and a quiet chuckle escaped him when Elizabeth treated Jack to a firm but teasing slap.

As she was wont to do, her tactics changed like the wind. “Please, Jack,” Elizabeth coaxed, voice a gentle coo. Jack made a purring sound in his chest that told Will that his wife was probably walking her fingers up Jack’s neck to toy with his ear. “If you honestly and truly had feelings for me, you’d do it.”

Will cocked an eyebrow and glanced up just in time to catch the ripple of Jack’s tongue and Elizabeth’s delighted squeal. She wriggled, as pleased as the ship’s cat after a successful hunt to have gotten her way, and laid her chin upon Jack’s chest to scatter a few kisses between the scars.

“Oh, I absolutely love it when you do that,” she said, her words turning as dark and thick as tar. She slowly rolled onto her back and stretched. The smug curve of her smile melted slowly away as Jack twisted to hover above her and roll his tongue again.

“Trust me, my darling, I’m well aware.”

Will nearly pricked his finger passing the needle through his shirt as Jack lowered his mouth to Elizabeth’s neck and murmured something to make her squeal louder still. They didn’t mind an audience, as well he knew, but there was something oddly private about the exchange that made him feel as if he should avert his eyes. Another bottle clunked to the floor to roll away with a hollow sound. The sheets rustled, and Will was certain if he didn’t find room in the bed presently, it would be a mess trying to untangle the two of them long enough to find a scrap of space.

“What happened to delaying the debauchery until I was done with the needle?” Will asked. He had only a few more stitches remaining.

“It was a terrible plan, mate,” Jack said, voice muffled.

“Doomed from the start,” Elizabeth added, and the way her breath cut sharp and quick made Will’s groin ache. He cut the thread with his teeth and set aside needle and spool, folding his shirt and leaving it on the chair. His bare feet tread silent over worn wood as he crossed over to the bed.

“Oh, the wicked life I lead,” he lamented, stretching out over Elizabeth while Jack moved to give him room. Jack kissed a mark onto the bronzed skin of Elizabeth’s shoulder just above the small tattoo of a sword crossed with a hammer. “My wife wears my ring upon her finger, but she’s married to the sea.”

“Right wench, this woman of yours,” Jack said, and his hands slipped from Elizabeth’s hair to slide down her arms and catch her wrists. He pulled her up to nestle her back more closely upon his chest. He drew her hands upwards, his callused thumb brushing lovingly over the simple gold band circling one of her slender fingers. “Should’ve wedded a fine upstanding young thing who’d cook you supper and embroider your shirts. Should’ve found yourself a lady of good breeding.”

“Instead I courted a sailor,” Will sighed, and his mouth skipped from where Elizabeth arched up for a kiss to brush against Jack’s instead. “What manner of fool am I?”

“Courted a pirate more like, which is far more perilous and far less profitable when it comes down to things, so you’d be branded a fool a few times over,” Jack said. He grinned, his unruly moustache tickling against Will’s face. “Although it seems to me you do well in remedying some of said foolishness by keeping an able and talented lover on the side.”

Elizabeth squirmed between them, determined not to be forgotten. “You’re both fools if you think I’m going to let you carry on and leave me wanting.”

“Pushy wench, isn’t she?” Will said, taking a second kiss from Jack before seeking out the taste of rum on Elizabeth’s tongue.

“Aye, and the wench is your wife,” Jack replied, as always glad to share their love and their bed but shirk anything resembling responsibility. He released Elizabeth’s arms, inching away to find a bottle not yet empty, and clearly had no qualms with playing the voyeur as Will slid himself between Elizabeth’s thighs.

“Luckiest fool beneath the heavens,” Will said, smiling as Elizabeth’s arms encircled his neck.

“Fools,” Jack corrected, and he brushed his knuckles across the tangle of their limbs as he drained the rest of the rum and bid them give him a good show.

*

End

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