Chapter 5:  Mine

 

“Captain wants to see you in his cabin, Norrington,” Mr. Gibbs said, taking over the helm.

I’m not in the mood, James thought bitterly, but he nodded and obediently headed down to the captain’s cabin.

James found himself immediately pinned to the door as he entered the room, the wood rough against his chest.  Jack was apparently wasting no time.  But James cried out in shock as Jack nipped painfully at his neck.  James tried to turn around and protest, but was instead forced even closer to the door.

Jack was never like this.  He was sometimes rather rough, but this was different.  This was violent.  He shivered as he felt the cool metal of a blade trailing across his skin.  “Jack?” he asked uncertainly.

“Captain,” Jack growled, sinking his teeth into James’ bare shoulder—again, not playful or loving, but painful.

“Captain, what—?”

“How much have I done for you, Jamie?”

“I’m…I’m sorry?”  James was finding his mind in a haze of panic.  Jack was being violent, he was holding a knife, and he did not sound happy.  Was this some sort of game?  But Jack did not play games, not like this.  James could tell by Jack’s tone—he was angry.  Was he drunk?  Really drunk, not just the usual?

“What have I done for you?”

“You-you gave me a job.  Here.”

“And?”

“You’ve…taken care of me?”

“And?”

James swallowed hard.  “You’ve…you’ve…”  He was not certain what else to say, nor of what Jack wanted to hear.

“Loved you?”

James’ breath caught in his throat.  Jack had never told him that before.  “I…I did not know that, sir.”

The pressure Jack was using to keep James against the door seemed to falter for a moment.  “I thought it was obvious,” he said.  “But that does not matter.  Either way, one thing that you should have know is that you are mine.”

James inhaled sharply and bit his lip as he felt the knife suddenly cut into his arm.  He shuddered in pain as Jack continued cutting into his skin.  What is he doing?  Why was Jack being like this?  If he loved him, what was this possessive, violent behavior for?

“Look down, Jamie.”

James hesitantly turned his eyes down to his arm, which now had a blood dripping from the crude design cut into him—a sparrow.

“You are mine, James Norrington, and I don’t share my dearest treasures.”

“I-I know.”

“Do you?”

Jack spun James to face him, continuing to hold him against the door, his dark eyes cold as they bore into James’.  James licked his lips as he nodded.  “Yes.”

“You didn’t seem to earlier today.”

Oh my God…

“I—I didn’t—I don’t—.”

Jack nodded.  “Tongue-tied, I see.  Didn’t think you’d get caught, did you?  No wonder you were so distracted when I talked about that Andrew.”

“André,” James corrected automatically, flinching at the glare he received from Jack.  “Jack, I—.”

“Captain,” Jack said harshly.

“Captain,” James corrected quickly.  “I…I didn’t mean to, I don’t know what came over me…”  He gasped as Jack slid his knee between James’ legs.

“I think I know what might have.”  James closed his eyes as Jack leaned closer and began trailing his lips and tongue over his neck and chest.  “Give me one reason not to kill this ‘André,’” Jack said just before he began tracing his tongue over James’ tattoo.

James’ eyes snapped open, and he bit his lip to keep from saying anything too quickly.  “He’s a good worker.  You said so yourself.”

Jack chuckled as he rolled his tongue over James’ nipple.  “Is that all?”

James’ blinked, trying to keep a clear head as Jack’s deliberations sent shots of arousal through his body.  “You need his soul,” James swallowed hard.  “To give to Davy Jones,” he said with difficulty.

“Anything else?”

James pressed himself against the door as Jack began tugging down his breeches.  “I…I don’t…”  He shivered as his breeches slid down over his hips and pooled around his feet on the ground.  “What-what do you want me to say?  I’ve given you two good reasons to keep him alive.”

“I’m curious why you suddenly decided to give him what’s mine.”  James could hardly think as Jack captured his mouth in a hungry kiss as his hand teasingly stroked the inside of James’ thighs.

“So this is an interrogation?” James asked, trying desperately to ignore Jack’s hands teasing his body.  “Feeling insecure, are—oh, God!”

* * *

“André!”

André froze, wondering if he had imagined the sharp voice of the captain calling his name.

“I want a word.”

Curious as to what Captain Sparrow could possibly want with him, André cautiously turned to see the captain leaning out the door to his cabin.  One of the men nearby whistled quietly, winking suggestively.  André rolled his eyes.

I’m sure James is more than enough.

André had to pause halfway to Jack’s cabin, swallowing hard and attempting to keep sinful thoughts from his mind (and failing).  “Captain?” he asked as he approached.

“Come inside.”

André followed Jack into his cabin hesitantly, beginning to become apprehensive about Jack’s intentions.  His anxiousness suddenly increased exponentially when he laid eyes on James.  He was seated in Jack’s bed, his apparently naked body only partially hidden under the sheets, his face in his hands.  James glanced up as the door closed behind André, his jade eyes begging for forgiveness.

For what?  Being in Jack’s bed?

But why was André there?

“So, André,” Jack began, twirling a knife casually between his fingers.  “Or should I say Lieutenant?”  André swallowed hard and looked back at James, who had closed his eyes.  “What are you doing aboard my ship?”

“I-I needed a job.”

“Really?”  Jack shook his head.  “Sorry, mate.  I don’t believe that.  You had a job—a better one, most likely—in the Royal Navy.”

“So did James!  Norrington!  Commodore.”  André flinched and avoided eye contact with the captain.  “Life happens, men end up in Tortuga without work.”

“As did Mr. Gibbs,” Jack muttered.  “Strange…Jamie claims that you said you signed up to get him off this ship.”

James put his hand over his mouth, his eyes still closed.  André shook his head slightly.  He’s nothing but a pet.  André looked back at Jack.  “Commodore Norrington deserves better than being a crewmember aboard a pirate vessel,” André said firmly.  “I wanted to help him…to help him get his life back.”

“Maybe it has escaped your notice, but Jamie is perfectly happy with his life.”

“What makes you think that?” André asked quickly.

Jack’s knowing grin made André want to strangle him.  He constantly used James so cheaply; it was horrible.  “You must be a very loyal officer.”

“And friend,” André added quietly.

Jack stopped twirling the knife, holding it tightly in his hand as he took a few steps towards André.  “André…is that French?”  André tilted his head slightly in confirmation.  “Is it customary for the French to kiss their friends on the lips, despite relationships they may be in?”

Instead of being shocked about Jack’s knowledge of their kiss (which one?), André found himself extremely angry about Jack’s comment.  “Relationships?” he scoffed.  “Of what sort?”  James suddenly looked up from his hands, wide-eyed.  “Using someone as your personal whore doesn’t count as a relationship!”

Jack glared at André in silence for a moment before turning on his heel and approaching James.  “Is that what you told him you were?” he asked sharply.

James shook his head quickly, his eyes wide.  “No!”

“He’s your pet,” André snarled.  “He obeys your every command, does everything to your liking.”

“As a crewmember should,” Jack replied.

“But not a lover!” André countered, stepping forward.  James was shaking his head again, his eyes downcast, but André paid him no heed.  André was relatively certain that he was about to be killed anyway.  “You should be focused on what he wants.  You need to…to care for him, to love him, to tell him you love him, to show him how-how wonderful a man he is.”  André bit his lip as James looked up at him through his eyelashes.

Jack glared at André again.  “Ah, so you do like Jamie as more than a friend.”  He suddenly drew his pistol, and André took a deep breath, knowing that the gun was for him.  “I can’t have that, mate.  Jamie is mine.  He knows it, the crew knows it—it’s a pity you don’t seem to know it.”

Jack pulled the trigger.