Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"James, is there some reason you would persist in coming here nearly every day this week?" Will's voice conveyed some annoyance. He had been interrupted in the middle of a delicate tempering process. "I am not harboring Jack. He's too smart to come here."

Norrington was silent. He removed his hat.

Will continued speaking. "Not that I do not enjoy your company, but I would rather extend to you the grace of our hearth and dinner table than have us shouting to each other over the bellows." Will pulled the piece from the fire and plunged it into the lead bath. "And I never seem to be decent when you drop by," he added under his breath. Will was painfully conscious of being sooty and sweaty next to the orderly blue and silver uniform. The Commodore was always impeccably dressed.

Barely listening, Norrington watched sweat trickle from the hollow of Will's throat down the long, dividing channels of his naked chest and stomach.

Norrington shifted his weight from one boot to the other, his buttons clicking, sword clanking against pistols. "I am here, Will, because Jack Sparrow has a new blade."

Will shrugged. "What of it?"

"'It is your handiwork."

"Yes."

"Aiding and abetting?"

"I make no secret of my friendships, Commodore."

"William, do not resort to formality with me. Titles are unnecessary."

"Clearly, Sir, we are not past this issue in our own friendship as you press me on it again and again. Thus, I must address you with more distance."

Will brought the small, leather-bound hammer down hard on the stubborn metal, testing it, muscles flexing. "You are an honorable man, James. I understand that you must do your work. I don't interfere with it unless one or the other of you gains the upper hand. Clearly, the chase must continue, but I would see harm come to neither of you."

Norrington took a step forward. "Then perhaps you should have a look at this." He reached past his greatcoat buttons and loosened his waistcoat and the lace at his throat, pulling his shirt open. A bandage crossed his collarbones, and he gingerly moved it aside. A red slice appeared, just healed over with rusty blood. "Your gift did this yesterday."

Will put the tools aside and reached over to examine the wound, looking worried, then relieved. "It's quite shallow, James. He did not intend to seriously harm you, only to irritate you. In which he has succeeded." His hands fell away. "Still, I'm sorry. I shall speak to him... when I next happen to see him. Perhaps you should not play cat and mouse with him so often." Will smiled with mischief. "At least his claws are of clean steel now and no longer apt to give you lockjaw."

"So I am the mouse then?" Norrington stood stiffly, his pride insulted.

Will turned back to the forge and shook his head with a sigh. "The two of you seem to take turns, it is a game you both enjoy too much. Elizabeth worries for your safety, and frankly, so do I. It's been nearly a year, James, we wish you would reprioritize. There are worse threats to the Empire."

Norrington snorted, walking over to finger a fine sword. "I should reprioritize when I am in the right?"

Will grinned. "Of course you are in the right, with that true moral compass of yours, how else would it be? But can you not think of him as just a sort of seafaring Robin Hood?"

"Robin Hood did not keep so much of his ill-gotten gains."

"Then can't you simply keep an eye on him? Go after him only if he gets into serious mischief?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"I have been trying to decide why a man like you, one who works so hard, who always puts others before himself, would continue to help a man like that."

"I enjoy knowing that Jack is sailing free. I have a streak of adventure in me. It's in the blood. You know this all too well."

"Indeed, but you've also chosen to continue your craft, to build a home with Elizabeth, to engage yourself as a member of polite society. Why continue to jeopardize your position by maintaining a friendship with Sparrow?"

"I'm loyal, James. Is that so hard to believe?"

"No. Though I would have your loyalty as well."

"You do have it. I admire you for being true to your nature--forthright and honorable. And I admire that Jack is who he says he is, fierce and flawed, honest and free."

"Is there more though?" Norrington's lowered voice sounded hopeful.

"More?"

"Never mind." Norrington tapped one boot against the forge. "Will, do you find it odd that we are friends?"

"I find you unusually gracious toward me, considering that you might otherwise have married Elizabeth and seem to hold no grudge about it."

"Hmm. I've no doubt of your love for your wife, and hers for you. And your passion for each other was clear when she was captured. It was the right choice for me to step aside. Fine woman that she is, and fond as I am of her, it wouldn't be right to keep her without passion. I could not allow ambition to override her happiness. Or my own."

"A noble perspective, fortunately for me."

"Not so noble, William, as you might think. When you went racing off after her, without concern for your own peril, I had cause to ask myself why I did not, why I fell to organizing and planning instead. Partly, it is my nature. But in part, I did not feel the terror that you did for her."

"I see." Will was busy polishing now, engaged in the conversation, relaxed. "Terror indeed, James, my insides were being torn out. When you've experienced that, I suppose you know that you're in love, and you must put that person first, even if your love is not returned."

Norrington went to the door and peered outside, ducking back in and dropping the bar behind him. "I have felt such a thing, though not for Elizabeth."

Will did not notice, nor did he notice when the tall man laid his hat, pistols, and sword on the bench by the door. "You haven't mentioned such a woman before... you must tell me of her. But let us not inform Elizabeth of the comparison, for she would be vain enough to wonder why she didn't stir your protective instinct the same way," Will chuckled.

"I wondered if you felt it for Jack, the way you stood between him and my sword."

Will's eyebrows shot up and he raised his head, a retort on his lips, but he saw that Norrington was in earnest. "Indeed, not," he replied, frowning. "Not the same thing at any rate."

"Too bad in a way. I thought you might understand."

Will laid his work aside and wiped his hands. "James, what the bloody hell is this about?" He watched in astonishment as Norrington slowly, slowly lowered himself to his knees on the leather fireblanket. Well-groomed hands came to rest against Will's trousers.

"This," Norrington squeezed gently, "is what this is about."

Will's head spun as he struggled to find the right reaction for a friend, a respected member of a small community, a prideful man. "James, I am married." The safest response. He touched Norrington's shoulder. "Please, get up."

"I cannot," Norrington replied in a rasping voice. "You will have to kick me away as I deserve to be kicked." His fingers began to work on Will's belt.

Will inexplicably felt himself swell in response. He grabbed for Norrington's hands. "I will not touch you in anger, my friend, please respect me enough to stop."

His hands restrained, Norrington instead pressed his face to Will's crotch, inhaling his scent, and feeling with triumph that Will had become hard. He opened his mouth and bit down gently around the ridge in Will's trousers.

"Sweet Jesus!" exclaimed Will. "What has come over you?"

"You want me to touch you," Norrington said desperately. "You do, your body speaks what you cannot say. Let me do this for you."

"No!"

"You do not have to touch me."

"That isn't the point."

"It will not harm Elizabeth, or you, but it will give me a moment's peace."

"Commodore!"

Norrington's back stiffened. He backed away. Without another word, he rose to his feet and straightened his coat, keeping his eyes on the ground. He knew that his own heat was more than evident. Nothing to be done about that. His face burned. After a few heartbeats, after his breath steadied, his eyes flicked to Will's. He nodded briskly. "My deepest apologies, Turner." With that, he turned and went to collect his things.

"James..."

"Don't. I only ask that my indiscretion remain between us."

"Of course." Will sounded so distressed that Norrington actually flinched.

"It was nothing you did or said, William. This is my doing alone. Your response means nothing except that a man's body always responds to being touched with desire." With that, he was gone.
******

Norrington flushed hot and cold replaying the events in his mind in his quarters above the barracks. He poured himself another glass of wine. It had been a serious misjudgment. A social horror.

He had refused dinner and all callers. How would he ever get through the gathering tomorrow night at Governor Swann's? How could he sit across the table from Will?

With dignity. As always. Dignity. He laughed coldly, tossing the map he had not been reading across the room. He stripped off his coat, and his waistcoat, then his scarf and shirt, undressing with vehemence, revealing garment by garment a body that women swooned for and men feared.

'What good is it if it cannot call to it what it wants?' he thought with frustration. Snatching the glass, he threw back the last of the wine and poured a cognac. He drank it while pacing the floor naked.

The only thing not to be regretted was having felt, smelled, and almost tasted Will's flesh. That memory would be fresh for some time. Will had sprung to life under his hand before the young man had a chance to think. So thick and hard. Swallowing a groan, Norrington walked over and bolted his door.

At last, he retired to his bedchamber and fell back on the bed. Having paid an exceedingly high price for the new information, he decided to make use of it. He reached for himself, and his cock obliged him by being more than ready. He wondered for a moment if it would be considered beautiful by a lover. It was strong and smooth at least. As he stroked and fondled it, he took himself back to the smithy, to the sight of Will's sweaty skin overheated at the forge, to the smell of him permeating the air. He closed his eyes.

Things could have turned out so differently...

"Sweet Jesus!" exclaimed Will. "What has come over you?"

"You want me to touch you," Norrington said desperately. "You do, your body speaks what you cannot say. Let me do this for you."

"No!"

"You do not have to touch me."

"That isn't the point."

"It will not harm Elizabeth, or you, but it will give me a moment's peace." Norrington wrested free and unbuckled Will's pants, his hands slipping in and grasping the slightly damp flesh within.

"Unh," Will grunted involuntarily. "Stop, James, please."

"I cannot. You'll have to hurt me to stop me." Norrington was utterly prepared to be struck or kicked. He realized he might actually come if Will did. Just to have Will touch him would bring a wave of unspeakable pleasure.

"I don't want to hurt you," Will was hoarse.

"Then simply hold still. That is all I require of you." It was an order given with the confidence of years of wielding authority.

Will froze, bracing his hands against the worktable behind him.

Norrington deftly pulled Will's cock free and shuddered with delight as it tapped his cheek. The fingers of one hand curled around the base, and he scooped Will's balls into his other palm.

"James, please." Will's legs were trembling.

"Please, what, Will?" Norrington licked once, base to tip. The smooth, firm, rigid flesh surged in his hands. He began to lap at it. He was trembling himself, pleasure burning through him. He did not expect an answer and was only grateful that Will was not pushing him away.

His own cock was trapped tight within his clothing, and only a slight writhing was needed to please it.

"Mmmm," he murmured, his tongue sliding around Will. He planted a hand on Will's abdomen and proceeded to nearly choke himself with Will's cock.

Will's head fell back, and he groaned softly. "Oh."

Norrington flexed the hand buried in Will's trousers, massaging the crinkled and tightening skin, weighing the man's measure in his palm. He did to Will what he had always wanted done to him, what he craved. Will was a man who deserved pleasure, who earned it. Deserved to be paid attention.

When Will tensed, fighting his own body, struggling for control, Norrington defied him. He forced the orgasm from him, caused him to gasp and groan, to thrust against him and spill himself mightily, his fresh, sharp taste flooding Norrington's mouth. Then, and only then, Norrington let himself go as well.

The slap of a hot stream against his face jolted him from the fantasy. James found himself in his own bed, one knee raised, bursts of semen still pulsing from him.

He groaned in relief and frustration, "Will."

A few minutes later, he rose, dried himself, and washed his face and hands. Pulling on his trousers and boots, he resolved to go straight to the stables and take Joshua out for a run on the beach. The night was cool, and it would help to clear his head. He had drawn his shirt over his head when a knock sounded on his door.

He threw the bolt and jerked the door open.

"Commodore, Sir, there's a visitor to see you." The man gulped.

"Did I not leave strict instructions not to admit anyone?"

"Well, Sir, begging your pardon, it's Mr. Turner. He says you're expecting that long-dagger you'd commissioned. He specified that you would be most upset not to receive it from him tonight."

Norrington almost smiled and caught himself, grew sober. Such beautiful double-entendre could only be a coincidence. In fact, the thought of facing Will after the dreadful afternoon was chilling. He sighed.

"Give me exactly five minutes and send him up." He shut the door in the sub-lieutenant's face and looked about the sitting area. All was in order except for the map on the floor. He went to retrieve it.

Then, James shut his bedchamber door. The smell of sex hung in the air there, and it would not do at all for it to be noticed. He opened the decanter of vanilla-infused rum that he kept at the bar and poured some into his fingers, fanning them about the sitting room. Finally, he rinsed his hands, tidied his shirt, and threw on his waistcoat. He left the wig on its stand and ran a hasty hand through his short locks.

The knock was polite, tentative.

"Come," Norrington said, instantly regretting it. Why must everything sound this way...? He had overstepped propriety so far that he could not imagine recovering.

There was an extended pause, then the door swung open and Will entered, shutting it firmly behind him. Norrington found himself unprepared for seeing the young man after all.

Will had obviously been home to dinner and had washed and dressed in clean clothing. The black velvet waistcoat and grey coat gave him a more mature air. His wedding ring glinted in the lamplight. The sweat and the grime were gone, the intimacy of men's work erased. The civilized world had intruded to set clearer barriers between them. Yet, the fine skin and deep eyes were irresistible.

Nodding in a decidedly military greeting, hands behind his back, Norrington spoke. "Good evening, Will. I understand you have something for me?" he said evenly.

"James," Will began, "I could not let the day end as it did between us." He set the bundle on the table.

Have you come to offer me your sweet flesh, then? Norrington bit back the words he wanted to say. "My dear friend, you would be within rights to have me arrested. All in all, therefore, I would say the day was ending better than it should have. But I am glad to see you, nonetheless." Although it is torture to have you here, so close to where I just spilled for you. His chest ached.

Will met his eyes, not flinching, though some of what Norrington thought must be visible there. "You gave me safe harbor, James, I can do no less for you."

Oh, the agony of his forgiveness. And the inevitable pity.

Will shook his head. "I do not pity you."

Norrington startled. "How..."

"I know well what it is to want what you believe you cannot have, when birth and all the stars are against you. Understanding is warranted, not pity."

Norrington swallowed. "You have a different perspective now, as you hold what was once out of your reach."

"But I am in love with her. You are not in love with me."

A dark eyebrow raised. "That is presumptuous, Will, to tell me my own heart."

"Yes, but it is true. You love me as your friend. You desire me just as you have desired other men, and you sense that I will not harm you for revealing it. I will not."

Norrington turned his back and went to the window. "But neither can you yield to my desire when it is not yours."

"No." Will was quiet for a moment. Norrington heard him walk to the door. "But I can reveal to you something of your heart that you don't yet understand."

Norrington snorted and turned. When did the impetuous boy become this self-assured man? "What sort of challenge is this, Will?"

"Not a challenge. A game of truth." Will slid the bolt on the door. "Two rules, James, first rule--do not touch me. Some things I would not keep from Elizabeth."

Norrington's mouth went dry. "Agreed."

"Second rule," Will took off his coat and hung it over the chair, "after tonight, we go about our friendship without complications, without asking forgiveness." He untied his ponytail and shook out his hair. Then, he pulled something out of his coat pocket, a kerchief. "Do you have a mirror?"

"In the bedchamber," Norrington offered, remembering too late that he did not want Will to go in there. Will whisked in and shut the doors tightly behind him. The tall man left standing in his wake waited, bemused.

A few minutes later, the doors flew open. The waiting heart stopped for a moment, then thundered back to life.

Will had bound the kerchief around his head and lined his eyes with that black, bruised kohl that Sparrow always wore. His shirt was lazily open, a sash slung low on his hips. He leaned against the doorjamb. The resemblance was uncanny, as if someone had stripped away ten years of sun, wind, and salt, leaving a younger, softer Jack behind.

The pirate swaggered into the room. "Commodore," he said with deep sarcasm, "how do you sleep without the sea rocking beneath you?" His hands mimicked the oceanic swells. "Ah, but you haven't been doing much sleeping in that bed of yours, have you now?"

Norrington flushed. The incredible creature sauntered to the table and poured himself a cognac. Took a swig of it. "Don't often see fancy swill. Tends to get spilled during boarding."

Norrington could see sweat on Will's cheek. He spoke softly. "William, I appreciate what I think you are trying to do, but you don't have to..." The sword sung out of Will's scabbard and its tip hovered just above Norrington's collar.

Will teased out the bandage with the sword tip and sliced it free. "You won't be needing that for such a little scratch, Commodore."

"James. It's James." He felt himself harden like glowing steel plunged into water.

"Well, I wondered if you actually had a given name, or if your parents gave you up to the Royal Navy at birth." The pirate laughed, teeth flashing.

The sword was sheathed as quickly as it had appeared. The waistcoat was stripped off and tossed on a chair. Brown hands went to the sword belt and unbuckled it, setting the weapon on the table.

"Will, what on earth are you doing?"

"It's working, isn't it, James?" Will walked right up to him, nearly chest to chest. "And it's Jack, tonight, just Jack." Their lips almost touched, and James felt his knees go weak.

Jack pulled his shirt free of his trousers and up over his head, tossing it aside. "A man should pursue what he wants, James, not wait for it to come to him. You're almost there, but you're chasing the wrong things in the wrong places."

Norrington allowed himself to look down, taking in the smooth chest and broad shoulders. He could see past the flat stomach to a substantial bulge in the trousers beneath. "I don't think so, Jack, young Turner is delectable. I've seen you look at him. You feint toward the woman but watch the man. He makes your eyes burn." He could have sworn Jack blushed. "He burns me too."

"Something else we have in common, then." Jack showed his hands, palm out, as if in surrender. "Follow me." He backed through the bedchamber doors. Norrington followed, unable to resist the strange spell.

Jack flung himself back on the bed, leaning on his elbows, his erection outlined obscenely in tight trousers. "I sense that you are no eunich, James, for your scent pervades this little haven of yours. Were you thinking of me when you touched yourself?"

"No," whispered Norrington. He swallowed, wondering if he should go on. "I was thinking of Will."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, good, safe William. Dear boy. Hopeless really. Can't live on the sea, can't live on the land."

"Will is a good friend." A note of menace entered Norrington's voice. He mentally shook himself.

"Don't I know it. Anyway, enough talk about the lad."

"But you asked, and I gave you the truth, Jack."

Deeply brown eyes looked back at him with a moment of genuine worry. "I don't doubt it, but there is a strong resemblance between him and me. You're taking the easy way--you know Will won't hurt you. I will."

"Yes, you would."

"But I'm worth the pain. The boy can't handle what you have to give. And need I remind you that he's spoken for?"

"No. I understand that. What I did today..."

"...harmed no one in the end. Might have frightened him to death for a moment, but he'll recover." Jack shifted to one elbow, freeing a hand to rub himself through his trousers. "By the timbers, James, stop talking and take off your shirt. Are we not men of action?" The hand ceased long enough to undo the top button of the trousers. Fingers dipped inside briefly, teasing along the trail of black hair.

Norrington flicked off his waistcoat and stripped off his shirt. Whatever was happening here was simply too compelling to be stopped, consequences be damned.

Jack reached behind himself and dragged a pillow forward, tucking it under his head. The shiny hair spread over it, and his throat arched. "Mm. Who knew you would have such a manly chest under that finery. You never noticed me looking at you, eh, James?"

"No."

Another button. "In my own way, I confided in Will. He's not stupid, the whelp. Why do you think I feel the need to rankle you so?"

"Tell me."

"It seems I cannot have you between my thighs, but I can have you locked with me in a different sort of embrace as often as possible." Yet another button. More fur visible. "I do so enjoy enflaming you."

"Jack, I feel compelled to tell you that it is taking an extraordinary amount of restraint not to join you on the bed."

"Then, join me, just don't touch."

That took Norrington's breath away. "Perhaps I should stay where I am for a bit longer."

"Suit yourself," Jack purred. "Less clothing though, would be preferable." He undid the last button. "What I've seen so far is rather splendid, makes me curious about the rest." A single long finger stroked up and down the ridge beneath the loosened fabric.

Norrington's hands flew to his own buttons. Soon his boots and trousers were discarded. He stood trembling, his cock arching up, straining against gravity.

Jack whistled low. "Quite a fetching picture you make. I'll wager that hair is as silky as it looks. Aye, James, turn 'round for me." Norrington did. "Ah, a fine, high-water ass. I can just feel my hands running over it. Let's see your eyes again, mate."

When James turned back, he froze. Jack's cock was out in all its glory. Wait. Will's cock. It didn't matter. A glorious cock, brown and thick, satiny, with a wide ridge throbbing on the underside.

"Oh, I so want that in my mouth," James growled.

"Is that what you thought about this afternoon?" Jack's breath hitched as his hand worked magic.

"Yes."

"Tell me, then."

"Will didn't want me, but I took him anyway. I wanted it so badly he gave in."

"What did you do to him?"

"I loved his cock, I worshipped it with my mouth until he had to feed me his essence. I didn't give him a choice."

Jack gave a strangled little moan. "How did he taste?"

"Fresh, strong, wonderful."

"Then what?"

"I came so hard, Jack, that I hit myself in the face with it."

"Ah! Show, me, James. God damn it, show me!"

Norrington stepped closer to the bed, leaning one hand on the bedpost. He licked his other hand and grasped himself, planting his feet apart as if invoking his sealegs. He fucked his hand hard, relentlessly, watching Jack touch himself. His head felt light, as though he might drift up on the slightest breeze, right out the window.

Jack lay with one arm flung back over his head, the other stroking himself fast, slick with fluid. His eyes were brazen, boring into James with all honesty. Magnificent pirate, consummate hedonist. "Pursue me, James, and not with a sword this time, or cannon, I promise you satisfaction."

"Yes," said Norrington, feeling himself step over the edge.

Jack erupted upward, fine youthful spurts flying into the air as he thrashed and moaned beneath his own hand.

"Jack!" Norrington cried, streams issuing forth and marking Jack's belly and legs, over and over.

He leaned into the bedpost after, his head pounding, his breath ragged. At last, he collapsed next to Jack. In a few minutes, he turned his head and was suddenly startled to see Will's fine profile, eyes closed. He sat up. The body next to him looked sweet and vulnerable, no tattoos, no hard wear of drinking. With the trousers low on his hips, cock slowly softening, Will was himself again, all disguises gone. The young man shivered. James scrambled for a towel and began wiping him off.

"I'm fine, James." The long lashes flickered open. "I'm fine." Will smiled up at him, white teeth glinting.

James took a deep breath, a frown marking his handsome features. "I now know what that was about for me, Will, what was it for you?"

"The opportunity to give my two good friends each other. So that you might be truly happy. And not skewer one another... with swords."

Norrington laughed. "William, the fact that you might be right about my heart--and I am not saying that you are--does not diminish the fact that I also desire you for yourself."

Will shook his head. "It cannot be. You know that."

"I know." He toyed with a lock of glossy hair, careful not to touch Will's face. "Still, was there any part of you that was not pretending to be Jack seducing me?"

The brown eyes glowed. "It was all me, James, right down to what you just wiped off my body. And now, I have to go home. I want to go home."

Norrington sighed. "I would like to kiss you, Will. Shh. I won't." He placed a calming hand over Will's heart but did not let it linger. "Thank you for showing me young Jack. I think perhaps older Jack and I will find our peace after all."

"You're welcome, my friend." Will pushed himself upright and buttoned his trousers.

Norrington folded his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling, feeling utterly relaxed. Then a problematic thought tensed him again. "William, you have not, by chance, played this game with Captain Sparrow?"

Will's laughter was genuine. "Why, no! Being generally lawless, he does not need anyone to show him his want or how to capture his treasure." He walked back through the other room, gathering articles of clothing, and returned, fully dressed, to scrub the kohl from his face and tie back his hair. "He did kiss me though. Once."

Sitting up suddenly, Norrington could not keep the consternation from his face. "What?"

"Ah, sorry." Will lowered his voice. "Elizabeth knows about that. Of course. I told her before she agreed to marry me. He pinned me to the mast, James. It wasn't exactly voluntary on my part. Entirely. At first."

Norrington struggled with mixed feelings. "What happened then?"

Will blushed. Norrington thought it remarkable he could still do that after what had just happened. "He said what I thought was the most oddly insulting thing at the time, but he was right."

For a moment, Jack's demeanor and voice returned to the young man, bringing a smile to Norrington's lips. "Well, then, not a eunich after all, eh, Lad? A little too soft for me though, just right for the young lass and her romantic heart. Oh, don't fret, I don't mean there--that's hard enough. I mean here," Jack tapped his lips, biting the end of his finger. "No offense, but I prefer a man with authority. A little steely coldness. A man who would fight me in earnest and still rip off his own fine, blue uniform for me at the opportune moment."

Will's eyes traveled over the strewn clothing and back to James, still naked. He grinned and headed for the door. At the threshold, he looked back. "Don't forget to open my present. You should wear it tomorrow. We're expecting a special guest at dinner, much to The Governor's chagrin. I wasn't going to tell you until you were safely locked in the house. But I changed my mind. It's your move. Don't squander it."

When James heard the door click, he rose to pad into the sitting room. He unwrapped the cloth from the bundle Will had brought and smiled broadly. Lying in his hands was the perfect mate to the dagger that had cut him yesterday. Safe harbor, indeed.
*******