Rating: PG, probably only (hints of slashiness, ahoy)
Series: Nope, just a drabble
Disclaimer: If I can have Jack, the Mouse can keep the rest
Apologies: Never gonna happen, never did happen, he's got more sense (and taste) than that, thank goodness :)
Summary: Way back in the beginning...these two guys met in a bar, see...
So very young, but so very assured of himself.
A silver bauble and a piece of white bone gleamed by candlelight in the dark room as the black-haired man turned away, one mug clasped in one hand, two in the other, somehow managing to handle all three with style and apparent ease of grace. A broad smile on his face, which turned anticipatory, if not downright predatory, as he sauntered towards a table where two whores already sat, one in red and the other in dark green, and clearly waited for his company.
"Here, now," he said, as another powdered whore in a stained gold dress pranced by his table, looking all for as if she were intent on joining them. He pulled her half on his lap, his arms around her plumpish waist, and whispered in her ear. "Who might that be, then?"
She glanced at him, obviously perturbed at having been so abruptly caught back, then followed his glance. A clearly envious, albeit pleased and rather wistful smile broke out on her face, making her look almost young for a moment beneath the layers of paint.
"Why, that's Captain Jack Sparrow," she said. "He's been here nigh on a month now, looking for to crew that great black ship of his."
"Is he now?" he asked, tilting his head around the tattered ruffles of her sleeve to give the lad a second look over. "Looks to have a right fair hand with ladies, but it seems to me he should still be at his mother's teat, rather than playing at ship's captain."
"Too fair a hand," she replied, then sighed a little.
He cupped a hand around her closest breast, squeezing it hard enough to raise yet another sigh, even as he squinted across the smoke-filled room. To where this self-professed Captain Sparrow was even now pulling the whore in the red dress towards him, laying a kiss upon her exposed breast, even as the whore in green was laying her cup aside to slip her hands beneath the table. Black eyes opening wide a moment later, white teeth gleaming as he smiled broadly, and pulled her to himself as well.
Tangled braids falling clear of his face then as he laid his head back beneath both of their eager ministrations, betraying a face that would have suited a maid as much as a lad. Smooth of skin despite the burnt color the sea and sun imparted, eyes lined with black paint of their own, lips that would have tempted a saint to sin. Lovely, simply lovely, and far too good to be wasted upon a set of mere strumpets.
And he tipped the baud off his own lap without another thought, unable to take his eyes off the other man, even as those dark eyes chanced to meet his and a faint stitch of a frown appeared upon that unlined brow.
"Here, now!" The whore in gold was protesting from her place on the damp floor, even as he rose and started across the room, ignoring both her words and the crude gesture she treated him to.
But he only had eyes for the lad, as he approached the table and then swept his hat off and took a lowish bow. Aware of the other man's fixed regard the whole time.
"I hear ye be lookin' for a good man or two to crew. One who may know what he's about," he said, straightening back up again. The whores were looking at him now, too, and neither of them looked any too pleased with the interruption.
"Aye, I am," the younger man replied. "If ye've the courage and fortitude I be lookin' for."
He stared back into those black eyes and smiled, then gave a half-nod. "Oh, aye," he said. "Well, I believe I do. An more besides. Came in on the Blade as her First Mate, but I'm lookin' to move up in the world. Find me a ship and a captain who may make good use of me years and natural ability. Get meself rich enough at the last to retire, afore I'm too aged to enjoy it."
The younger man stared at him for several more moments, as if he could see inside him if he only tried hard enough, then shrugged and shoved one of the whore's mugs across the table at him. He gestured expansively for him to seat himself. "Then make yourself welcome. We sail in two days time, perforce to find ourselves gold enough to fulfill our fondest dreams and more. If that indeed be your pleasure."
He sat and lifted the offered cup. "Be glad I am to drink to that, aye. An to your ship, if ye would but tell me her name?"
Jack Sparrow pushed the protesting whores away from him at that, lifting his own cup in equal salute. Candle flame and pride glittering gold within the depths of his eyes as he raised his head and flashed him a shockingly pristine white smile.
"She be the Black Pearl, mate," he said. "An a finer lady never sailed these seas, nor is ever like to again. An soon enough all shall know of her fame, as well as they'll be speakin' her name. An me own."
"To the Pearl, then" he said, pressing their cups together. "May she lead us all to riches beyond imagination."
"Aye, to the Pearl," the other man replied, but paused just before taking a drink, lowering his cup slightly from his mouth in order to gaze inquiringly at him. "But I forget me manners...your name, good sir? So that we may toast to our future fortunes together in like manner."
He stared deep into black eyes and found himself full envying the whores at the other man's side as well, more than he would have believed of himself and certainly more than was strictly wise. But he assuaged himself with the knowledge that, come the change of the tides, that they would be left well behind and he...well, he would be spending a great deal of time in this lad's company. And anything could be made of that, anything at all.
"Hector Barbossa," he answered. "At your command...Captain."
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