Feeling Pain
Author: spooon
Pairing: Jack/Will
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Who's the owner of the boys who shag for you and me? M-I-
C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E!
Feedback: Positive feedback makes me write more. Constructive criticism makes me write better.
Warnings: Bipolar disorder, self-medicated with Cuba Libres. This is what happens when I run out of limes at three o'clock Wednesday morning. Depression, masochism, D/s, dacryphilia, things of that nature.
Author's Note: I promise I have cheerfuler stuff coming. I'm not all
doom and gloom. Though I do have a t-shirt that says DOOM AND GLOOM! on it.

* * *

When Elizabeth did not bother responding to Will's congratulations for her marriage to the Commodore, he thought the emptiness inside would consume him, leaving him as numb as the cursed pirates they had all fought.

He now realizes it did.

* * *

Under cover of darkness he commandeered a small boat and headed for Tortuga. If Jack could travel that passage in Anamaria's leaky fishing boat, then surely Will, who knew almost nothing about sailing, could either make the trip or die trying.

Either of those possibilities would be considered a success.

* * *

Will didn't know how long he spent in Tortuga. He only knew that it was long enough to be drunker than Jack when the pirate finally stumbled into the Faithful Bride.

Jack allowed him to sign on as part of the Black Pearl's crew despite his inebriation and woeful lack of experience. Out of camaraderie for a shared adventure or pity for Will's current situation, Will didn't know, nor did he have the necessary emotions to care.

* * *

After a few months aboard, working watch and watch with the rest of the crew, Will was invited to the Captain's bed.

Although Jack insisted it was a request, never an order, Will went not out of passion but out of loyalty to his Captain. As an increasingly competent, resolute sailor he served the ship utterly and unconditionally, both directly and by serving the ship's Captain.

And it wasn't as though it was difficult to lie on his back with his legs open, offering his body while Jack grunted and moved above him.

* * *

One day they attacked another ship and Will was shot in the melee. Not a mortal wound, but the worst sustained in this attack. The Pearl's surgeon had left the crew some weeks ago and not been replaced, so it was the Captain who dug the bullet out of his side. Will wept both at the pain from wound and treatment, and at the knowledge that this was the first thing he had felt in a full year. Jack told him he was beautiful when he cried, and kissed and licked his tears away.

That night when Jack mounted him he was gentle, trying not to aggravate the injury, but at the movement Will's side throbbed harder all the same.

He welcomed it.

* * *

Shortly after the crew's various small and large injuries had fully healed, they managed to catch another merchant vessel. This time, Will took a nasty slice across one thigh, and again Jack bandaged him, licked away his tears, and fucked him.

This time, Will's toes curled at the feeling of his Captain inside him.

* * *

Two weeks later, Will burned himself in his makeshift forge. He went straight to Jack with his wound.

Four days after that, he did it again.

* * *

After a few more scuffles with other ships, Jack started specifically ordering Will to fight with his full ability whenever they plundered.

Will lamented, but was unable to disobey his Captain.

So he burned himself. Again.

* * *

While bandaging yet another minor wound, Jack remarked that Will's clumsiness in his forge resembled his now-forbidden clumsiness in battle.

Will pleaded with his Captain, begged him on his knees not to take his pain away. Jack frowned and shook his head and ordered him not to injure himself anymore.

And that night fucked him without oil, licking away his tears.

* * *

Jack never struck him, even when Will asked. Instead, Will would lie with his Captain much as he always had, though now often without oil or preparation; and Jack would part his skin with the beautiful dagger that was the first weapon Will had made after joining the crew. Always the same dagger Will had given him.

Will cherished all of the pictures Jack carved into him, but none more than the growing flock of sparrows on his back.

Even now, Jack was giving him another. Will was on his knees and elbows on Jack's bed, head down. His Captain was there, behind him and inside him, making him bleed with blade and with cock. Will could feel it running down his thighs and his arched back.

He wanted to weep with the joy of it, but couldn't; not yet. If he did so now his tears would run into the bedding and be lost.

The End

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