veronica_rich | "Contradictions 8

This is a continuation of a fic. See Part 1 for disclaimers, description, etc.

After another short nap into mid-morning, Will got up, dressed, and headed out for a bath. There were a couple of tubs on board, complete with jury-rigged braces beneath each to hold coal for heating, one of which was in the hold.

The bigger one was in the captain’s cabin, and this is where Will somewhat boldly decided to clean up. Grabbing the large pail out of it, he headed up the short distance on deck. After drawing water from the ocean, he would carry it back; after a few buckets, he could light the two small fires to get the process started while he finished hauling back seawater. It was far from perfect, but the heat somewhat made up for the salt, and it was better than nothing for getting the rest of Will’s sticky self scrubbed off.

Thinking over the past several hours wasn’t enough to embarrass Will. Stepping out on deck wearing an uncustomary half-open shirt and loose hair, however, and being grinned and wolf-whistled at by at least half the crew within minutes did flame his cheeks. The Pearl, he reflected, was of vast size in combat but really rather small when it came to news – a mouse could fart in the hold and the sound would make its way up on deck within the hour.

When a few started up a round of applause, Will set his pail down and sighed. “All right, all right, knock it off … for heaven’s sake.” He tried not to blush too furiously. “Just- Can I get my water in peace, please? I promise to sharpen all your blades if you’ll-“

“Aye, won’t that get th’ captain jealous?” someone called from the back.

Will picked up his pail and ignored the comments and raucous laughter that followed. He should’ve expected this – except he had no idea how they’d figured it out. Hell, Maxi had been the only one he remembered at the door of the smithy, and Will knew for a fact he was a misanthrope of the highest order and rarely spoke with anyone, let alone the crew. Too, nothing he or Jack had hollered through the door could be misconstrued (or, in this case, correctly interpreted, he supposed) as sexual in nature.

Head high, Will hauled his pail up and carried it below to dump it into the tub. Well, the worst is over with, at least he figured, heading back up on deck.

Except that it wasn’t. As soon as he appeared on deck, he was met once again with clapping and few bows thrown in for good measure. Shifting his jaw in annoyance, he ignored it and pulled up more water. He got quite good at this over the next several trips, never acknowledging the attention, never saying anything, simply keeping to himself and moving to and fro as though it was a normal day out in the sunshine.

On what he judged to be his next to last trip to the rail, he turned to head back below, coming up short upon seeing Jack on deck. The man had carelessly thrown on breeches and a shirt in much the same fashion as Will, with perhaps the same idea, judging by the way he lowered his eyes to the sloshing pail. Oddly, the deck was absolutely quiet; some crewmen were turning away, perhaps wanting to pretend they’d never made a peep about any of it. Others stood as if frozen in a constable’s lamplight with their hand in a rich pocket.

He should have felt smug, relieved, vindicated. Instead, Will was ill at ease. The only reason they shut up was Jack. It’s not me; they have no respect for me. He realized it was Jack’s ship, but still, he’d worked so hard what time he’d been aboard the past year, and fought alongside them, and he’d actually started thinking of most of them as a sort of family, and … and …

He swallowed his disappointment and crossed the deck, intending to go below. As he passed a confused-looking Jack, however, he squared his shoulders and set the pail down. In for a farthing, in for a crown. They want a show? I can oblige.

Turning toward Jack, Will took his face between his hands and tilted it for a kiss – not just any kiss, but a deep, probing, solid one, in full view of the crew. He wasn’t surprised by the arms that came up around him, but it did sort of knock him for a loop when he realized he’d gone from stubbornly making a point to being drawn into the embrace, being kissed as passionately as he was kissing. To hell with the rest of them; this is the only one I care about impressing, he realized.

They drew back, and when Will recovered and opened his eyes, he found Jack’s quiet, fond grin only a few inches away. Forgetting there were other people, Will smiled back, feeling his earlier sunniness seep back into his skin. Who would’ve ever thought Jack Sparrow could make me giddy? he marveled.

Suddenly, Jack took one of his hands, stepped back so they both faced the stunned crew, and curtsied deeply. The tug of his hand compelled Will to let go or do the same, so he followed suit, feeling foolish again. “Next show’s at eighteen hun’erd,” Jack announced as they straightened.

Because he simply couldn’t help himself, Will arched an eyebrow toward his captain and, without thinking, automatically shot back, “They wish.”

Quick, rough laughter filled the deck, and every person Will could see started clapping. A few shout-outs encouraged Will – “Yeah, you tell ‘im!” – while other, lewder comments backed up Jack’s impromptu declaration. Will glanced between the captain and his crew, and it occurred to him he was less uncomfortable now that he’d talked back and broken the tension. When, a few minutes later, he came back up alone to draw his last pail of water, crewmen were milling about talking with one another and giving reports to their captain, carrying on their regular chores; a couple paused to snap off sloppy salutes at Will, who only shook his head and chuckled on his way back to the cabin.

*****

“Think th’ water’s gettin’ a mite chilly,” he felt Jack murmur against his temple.

“Not yet.” Will half-closed his eyes, still savoring the feel of Jack’s legs and arms bracketing him in the small tub. They’d decided to conserve energy and bathe together, with the added benefit for Will of having Jack wash his hair and scrub and rub his back. Clean, exhausted, and hungry, Will drowsed in the lukewarm water, feeling lazier and decidedly less productive than he had in many years. It was sinfully wonderful.

For several minutes, Jack humored him, then nudged his body. “Up, you,” he ordered. “I’m gon’ shrivel like this.”

Grumpily, Will leaned forward to pluck a towel off the floor, then pulled himself to his feet. “Not like it’d diminish you that much,” he smarted off, stepping out onto the floor.

“See, now, why couldn’t ye’ve said that in front of me crew, instead?”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, quit sayin’ that when ye don’t mean it.” Will laughed, moving aside to dry off as Jack stepped out for his own towel. “Stubborn lad.”

“Old reprobate,” Will shot back without thinking. He was nearly mortified until Jack snorted, shaking his head. He used the man’s good mood to change the subject. “Jack – why did the crew do that, you think? I mean, why did you? And they acted the way they did?”

Jack plucked Will’s damp towel from his hand and crossed to the table, draping each over the back of a chair. “Ye’ve got to understand, Will,” he explained, gesturing in circles with his hands as he spoke. “They think of ye as damn near perfect – ye learn things faster ‘n most of them do, ye learn more, and ye don’t quite embrace th’ pirate way as much as any of us do.”

“So … they feel like I’m putting myself above them?” He shook his head. “I never intended-“

“Will, Will, me lad – shh.” Jack raised his hands. “They don’t think badly of you – quite th’ opposite, I’m sure. Ye’ve been so virtuous all this time, even in your piratical pursuits; you don’t even go into brothels t’ so much as make change.” Will was still confused, and Jack came closer, taking his hand and leading him toward the bed as he explained. “For them, ‘twas a relief to see you’re no different, that ye need th’ same warm flesh they do after all. They don’ feel you’re quite so high an’ mighty, now.”

“But I want them to respect me.” He watched Jack crawl between the thin sheet and goose-down mattress. “Right?”

“Has nothin’ to do with respect for you, or how ye do your job.” Jack got to his knees and pulled Will across the bed until they touched, chest to thigh, facing. He rested his hands on Will’s waist. “It’s about being human, Will. You’re closer to their level now, more human, more accessible-“

“Well, not that accessible,” he interrupted, reaching up to comb his fingers through Jack’s wet hair.

“You bet that sweet, tight arse you’re not.”

Will deliberately pouted, widening his eyes. “You don’t know it’s tight,” he reminded the pirate in a devilish tone. “Not yet.”

Jack blinked, and Will thrilled at the way he could befuddle the glib man for literally whole seconds at a time. “And what’re we gon’ do about that, hmm?” he finally recovered and challenged.

Will pressed himself to Jack briefly, nose to nose. “I’ve a few ideas.”

Jack kissed him, good and long. “Oh, in case I forgot,” he whispered, pressing the smith back toward a pillow with his body, “welcome to me cabin, love.”

And truly, Will had never felt more at home.