♥ I would also like to say Happy Birthday to my lovely Pat, tx_cronopio and say you are the finest of Cronopios I've ever met. *squish*
Title: Last Request, 1/3
Rating: NC-17, all the way. Shameless porn loosely held together with a plot.
Summary: This is that loosely held thing. Jack Sparrow finally caught, 10 years after PotC, James Norrington pays him a visit and ... Have to read to find out.
Warning: DARK for me. I won't say anything further. Either you'll read it and trust me, or not. Hate give-aways.
A/N: HUGE thanks to ely_jan who acted as beta and did a fantastic job to boot. (Ru - she has not replaced you!)
Commodore James Norrington straightened his cravat, smoothed his hands over the brocade of his greatcoat, and nodded to the guard to open the heavy wooden door that led to the dungeon where Captain Jack Sparrow was being held. For ten years James had chased this man, and he had no intention of letting him slip from his grasp again. The prison was far inland within the center of a fort used as a fall-back for the coastline's fort, and no one was coming for Sparrow this time. There would be no escaping his death, and it appeared that the bastard had finally gotten it through his thick skull.
Sparrow had asked for only one thing as his last request - to say goodbye, man to man. To look into the cold green eyes of the man that had mercilessly hunted him and for them both to recognize each other - to acknowledge what they had been. James waited three days before giving his answer. He arrived at the garrison four days after that.
He walked through the doorway, ducking low under the lintel with the involuntary grace of a tall man who had long lived in a world of average men. The air fairly crackled with electricity and Norrington was acutely aware of the guard that stood at his side and removed all expression from his face. There he was, the pirate, the infamous Captain Jack, standing at the back of his cell with an unfathomable expression on his face. Sparrow's eyes tracked James as he moved further into the room, not acknowledging the soldier that followed. He had been beaten - that much was obvious. A large bruise blossomed under his jaw by his ear and he favored one leg over the other as he stood still, watching. His breeches were worn thin to the point of indecency, his shirt not much more than tatters. Yet apart from all of this, he still carried himself with the grace and agility of a man with a long road stretched out before him and nothing but his own fancy to guide him.
James stepped towards the bars - flat metal strips bolted together to make a weave, spaces just large enough for a man to put his face through and cry for parole. Or for his mother. Stoic and proud, he chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, then gave the prisoner a small nod of recognition. Jack pushed off the far wall with his backside and took a few steps forward, eyes locked on the Commodore's. He drew his fingertips along the edge of his tattered shirt and traced back and forth along his tanned skin at the shirt's opening.
"Commodore. Fit and hale as ever."
"I've no time for small talk, Sparrow."
"Oh, but I think you do. Bit of a trip to get here, love. I think ye have more time than yer letting on. Not much color to yer cheeks. How long has it been since ye stood on a deck, the sea crashing against-"
"That'll be enough."
James maintained his composure for all that he was seething inside. Jack always did see more than most people. It was one of the man's more exasperating qualities. There were certain things James would have rather kept hidden, yet Sparrow had a way of pulling secrets out of the dark. Jack saw James more clearly than anyone ever had and for that, James hated him. His eyes narrowed slightly; Jack tilted his head slightly in acquiescence.
"There's them that say it's a lonely life at sea - nothin' to call home," Jack leaned forward slightly, dropping his voice to a more intimate level, "but we know better don't we? Aye, a life at a desk is no life, is it James? Harder to... hide things, isn't it? Same folk seein' ya day in, day out, pressin' this and that lady at ye, desperate to make a match, to shut the waggin' tongues of the townsfolk?"
Jack slid the flat of his hand under his shirt and rubbed his chest. "That's no life at all, not fer men like us, is it, now?"
"Does it matter anymore? You hardly have any life left to fret about, Jack. I should think you would worry about matters of importance in these last hours - repenting of your sins before your time is up."
"Ah, but see, repentance is fer those that feel regret and remorse. And I have none of that. Or won't soon enough."
Sparrow's tongue peeked out and moistened his lower lip. Without breaking eye contact, James barked out, "Leave us," to the guard, who turned sharply and left the chamber. James heard the soldier shut the heavy door, then drop the bar on the opposite side, locking him in. Sparrow shifted his weight to his other foot, bringing him closer to the bars; the threadbare linen of what remained of his shirt brushed against the dark metal, picking up flakes of dirt and rust.
"Sure you can trust me?"
James' face never wavered. His eyes never moved from Sparrow's darkly lined eyes, not even when the pirate's hand carefully moved between the bars and cupped him through his moleskin breeches, ringed-thumb stroking while fingers gently kneaded. And if James shifted his groin forward into that warm touch, neither of them said anything. Jack reached up with his free hand and held on to the bars at shoulder level and rested his cheek on it while his other hand eased the buttons of James' pants through their button holes one by one.
Sparrow caressed the fine down on James' belly with the back of his hand, fingertips weaving themselves in and out of curls as his fingers stroked lower. James' hands were still clasped behind his back under his coat, squeezed tightly together, but his eyes never left Jack's face. Coarse fingertips dipped lower and found hard flesh waiting. Then and only then did Jack let his eyes close, a hint of a smile on his face. Jack nuzzled his cheek against his hand, working his face in between the bars, lips parted. James refused the invitation, but shifted his weight forward, his hips tilting slightly when the gentle stroking slowed.
Sparrow circled him with his hand and barely touched his flesh as his hand pantomimed the movement James expected. His eyes narrowed slightly, but still James did not speak, nor would he close his eyes. Jack twisted his dry palm over the thick head and stroked firmly back down, squeezed and tugged, coaxed the Commodore closer to the bars.
"You can, you know. Trust me. Well, for now at least."
The pirate grinned, showing off the gold teeth of which he was so proud and clacked them together, then chuckled softly. "Never." Jack backed away from the bars and sank to one knee. His hand still pulled and teased, twisted and stroked, tugging with intent to make James move. Jack pulled James' cock through the opening in the bars and rested his forehead against the cold metal. He traced his lips with James' erection, silken skin against full lips, his tongue stealing out to dip into the small opening before circling the thick head. Jack's nostrils flared as his breath warmed James' stomach, and he pulled back only to moisten his lips before doing it all over again.
Still James would not move.
Sparrow opened his mouth wide and sucked just the tip into his mouth, teeth rubbing suggestively side to side on the delicate skin, his eyes cast upwards looking for any hint of alarm. James parted his lips, tongue darting out the tiniest bit to moisten them, but otherwise remained still, silent. Jack's tongue slid around the hard length before he ducked his head and engulfed him entirely, rubbing the sensitive head against his soft palate, before tightening his lips and pulling his head back, eyes looking upward. Upward to see James' mouth still closed, eyes looking forward, his expression unchanged, stalwart as ever despite the quickening Jack could feel against his tongue.
Jack reached through the bars and tugged on the loose front flap of James' breeches and pulled him as close to the bars as he could and held him there, rough, tanned hand gripping the soft leather trousers tightly. His free hand circled the small sac below James' cock and he held it loosely in his warm palm and sucked him back in, tongue circling the head as he pulled back, cheeks hollowing as he sucked again and again. He moved his head forwards and back, speeding up, stopping once to run his wet tongue up and down its length, then growled slightly and took him back into his hot mouth fully, trying anything to make James move or moan or respond.
But James stood immobile, slowly breathing in and out through his mouth, eyes fixed on a point on the far wall of Jack's cell. Jack stood, his knees popping from the effort, held the bars near James' face and leaned in, lips wet, eyes heavy lidded. Then James moved. He tilted his head back, eyes narrowing, hands coming from behind his back to grab at the lapels of his coat. Jack nodded, a small move, but one that James caught. Jack sank back to his knees and gripped the flat, rusted metal barrier of his cell and took the Commodore in his mouth again.
Sure that there would be no further interruptions, James thrust his hips forward, the cold metal pressed against his exposed skin, and he let his eyes close briefly. When he opened them next and peered down, he saw Jack kneeling there with his eyes closed. Long eyelashes rested on his tanned cheeks, full red mouth stretched over his cock which glistened wetly as Jack's head lifted. Jack reached through the bars and gripped James' hips to hold him still against the bars as he worked his mouth and tongue faster. James fixated on the red scarf on Jack's head and a small string of baubles that hung from its center swaying back and forth as Jack's mouth moved.
James suddenly hissed - a rivet had caught hold of wiry curls and the steady thumpthump of his hipbones against the bars caused them to be pulled out painfully. Jack pulled off him, touched the spot that had been hurt and pressed his lips gently to the small, red mark, his eyelashes tickling James' sensitive flesh. Without looking up, he went back to his work, a hand circling James' cock as he pressed his lips over the head and stroked then flicked his tongue along the groove underneath. James held back a moan - he denied the pirate the knowledge that any of this gave him pleasure, but did allow himself to unclasp his hands from his coat's lapels and tentatively grasp the metal structure separating their bodies.
Jack hummed low in his throat with James' entire cock in his mouth, tongue flattened and stroking, caressing its length. Jack heard James' breathing hitch, sensed the small tremors running through the man and relaxed his mouth. He began to pump James into his mouth while cupping and lightly squeezing his sac. The smallest of moans, an exhale really, signaled to Jack to lengthen his motions, to slowly draw back and forth for a moment. James gripped the iron slats tightly, and noticed with a detached sense of self as small flakes of rust drifted down and settled like fairy dust on Jack's hair. He was close, despite the nasty little part of his brain that told him it hadn't been nearly long enough, not when this would be the last and only time, and his hips began to move of their own accord, seeking more friction than he was currently receiving.
Jack moaned around him, the vibrations causing the tiny hairs on James' skin to rise as a shudder raced through his body. James closed his eyes and gripped the bars tightly, mouth slightly open to allow for the gasps of breath he was incapable of stopping. The wall of iron made a rhythmic creak as he rocked his body forward and back, hip bones slapping against the metal. Jack ceased his movements, relaxed his throat, stilled his body and let James' rocking intensify, let James drive himself to his own completion; and then he reached up and laid his hand over James'.
The reaction was immediate. James pulled his hand back as if burned, backing away from the bars. Jack was still hunkered down, eyes closed and mouth agape, wet and wanting. James exhaled sharply and willed himself to gain control. With sharp movements and a fearsome face he pulled up the front of his trousers and buttoned them closed, smoothing his hand over the fine moleskin to smooth them and hide any evidence of his actions.
Jack rose to his feet, slid his arms through the slats resting his weight on his elbows, and shot James a coy look. "Looks like you still need a moment, Commodore."
James took another deep breath, green eyes narrowed like a cat, lips in a tight line. "Your life is forfeit, Sparrow."
"True. But ye can't blame me fer tryin' to set right a wrong from long ago, can ye?"
James jutted out his chin, hands mindlessly smoothing the front of his shirt over and over. "It really is a shame you can never learn from your mistakes. Perhaps things would have... ended differently."
"Would they, now?"
James took in the hard lines of Sparrow's body, his lithe frame, the edges of tattoos that lurked just under a sleeve, just above a waistband. So many questions unanswered. "It would be... odd if I remained for any further length of time." James took a step back, a step towards the heavy door.
"They'll hang me at dawn."
"So come before."
A pause. James took another step back, turned on his heel and pounded his fist on the heavy door to alert the guard. He stood still, hands clasped behind him and waited for the heavy bar to be raised and the door opened. Before he stepped through the archway, he replied quietly, "I will," ducked low, and left.
~TBC, right here