Chapter Text
Jack was angry.
He let himself believe, just for a second, that there could be something more for him and the pirate hunter… But Armando Salazar would see him hung tomorrow if the man had an inkling of the truth. It wouldn’t matter if Edward Teague was dead. It wouldn’t matter if Little Jackie Teague had never committed a true crime in his life. He’d hang for that name all the same. Sins of the father and all that blow!
Fine. His mistake. He saw the truth of it now, in how Armando could look at a kid and assume a future just because the world gave them no choice.
Oh, he knew terrible pirates. He knew men who would lop a kid’s hand off for stealing and not even care about the hypocrisy. But he also knew men who’d been born in shackles turn around and fight against the same. And he knew people who chaffed under systems and societies that never gave them a slice of moldy bread, so they sought freedom over the worn muck of toil and trial.
At least at sea, men could be made equal.
But he wasn’t at sea now. And it wasn’t going to be easy to get somewhere safe for him…if there even was. And sleeping on the street in a foreign port was a bad place to start. So, he did what he’d been taught since he was a boy – if you’re lost, find a whore.
***
The ship was terribly silent as Armando stood at the helm, pretending he was not watching and waiting and hoping for Jack to return. He felt foolish. For his words. For his current state. For everything. Why had he not simply listened?
He knew what it was to go hungry… And worse, he knew what it was to commit a crime simply to survive. He too had been just a boy once, a boy whose father had ransomed their honor and whose mother died terribly in a work house to pay off debts. Long before he was old enough to enlist, long before he revived the Salazar name through devout honor and endless bloodshed…
He hunted known pirates, not children in ports stealing bread. And what allegiance did he have to the rotten fucks of the EITC? Even if he had killed the man, there would be no consequences.
“You look lost, mi amigo.” Lesaro came to the upper deck, offering him an apple. “And I do not see your sparrow anywhere; did he fly the nest?”
“He was never mine.” Armando sighed. There were so many reasons to hide, but at sea there truly was no one to judge him. It was far too late anyhow. The little bird seemed to indeed be gone…
“You are not prone to melancholy, Armando.” Lesaro prodded him. “Speak to me, let me lift your spirits so that you may go find our companion and bring him back.”
Armando shook his head. “I allowed foolish prejudice to control my tongue without considering his own mysterious past. There was a boy accused of thieving that the Company threatened to brand. After we chased them off, I may have implied the child was still bad…”
It was Lesaro’s turn to shake his head with a frown. “You mean you called the boy a future pirate, hm?”
His friend saw through him so easily. “I offended our friend, and in his anger, he left me standing in the alley. Wherever he has gone, I doubt he will see fit to return here.” His hands tightened on the apple, feeling the flesh compress beneath his fingers.
“What you fear does not have to be true.” Lesaro began, but whatever words of encouragement he had were cut off by another sailor coming up the gangplank and calling out for the captain.
Duty never ceased, even at port. Armando immediately made his presence known, moving down to the main deck with Lesaro close behind. The man snapped to attention, even if Armando could smell the alcohol on him. “Captain, the boy, or Sparrow, er, well…” The man was stumbling on his words.
“What about Jack?” Armando’s impatience won out.
“He’s at a bar and, well…” Another hesitation but the man must have seen something in his face worth hurrying for. “I think he’s trying to sell himself into a brothel.”
“What?” That was not what he expected…
“He was crying to the girls in the bar and being plied with drinks from a few of their customers and… I’m worried about him, sir.” The man did look so genuinely concerned.
“He… he was crying?” Armando’s chest ached. If the sailor had more information to impart, Armando didn’t wait to hear it. “Lesaro, take over the watch.”
There was certainly an agreement and probably an amused grin on his friend’s face, but Armando was already darting down the gangplank. The sailor shouted the name of the tavern after him. He made a note to give the man a raise and an extra ration of sweets for the remainder of the trip to Spain.
Armando knew the port. Even if he didn’t, he firmly believed God would not lead him astray, not when this sparrow had been placed in his path once. He would not take this gift for granted a second time. What sins could there be when Jack was delivered to him so perfectly? Why had he ever questioned it, ever feared it?
As if to confirm his racing thoughts, the establishment appeared before him. A tavern, one of those that had girls in brightly colored skirts standing outside to lure sailors in. He swept past them, throwing himself into the throngs of tavern goers until he spotted the boy who would not leave his mind despite his efforts.
Jack’s eyes were puffy from crying.
He looked heartbroken as a woman poured brown liquor into a cup for him. And all around, there were sailors eyeing him with hunger.
“I’d only be able to work for a few months… Just until I get on my feet…” Jack was saying, sniffling miserably.
“You can stay for as long as you like, I believe you’ll be quite popular with the customers. What did you want to call yourself?” The woman brushed Jack’s hair away from his face.
“Sparrow… Jack Sparrow.” That was all Armando needed to hear. He stormed forward, startling the woman as he lifted Jack unceremoniously from the table and threw him over his shoulder. Unsurprisingly, Jack fought until he seemed to realize who had him.
“Unfortunately, my companion has a different engagement.” Armando said to the woman, throwing coin onto the table to cover the drinks.
He glowered at the men who still eyed Jack with interest. In turn, they were smart enough to look away or incur the wrath of the enraged man. He was in uniform. There were few who would not at least recognize his rank, and many more who would recognize him.
“Let go of me you, you…” Jack was clearly drunk, words slurring as he weakly struggled. But he could hear the tears in Jack’s voice.
“No.” Was all he said, marching back towards the ship like a man facing the gallows…
***
Jack grunted as he was thrown down onto Armando’s bed. The familiar mattress cushioned his fall, softening the blow as he tried to get his swimming eyes to focus on the captain standing over him. Scathing words turned to dust on his tongue as Armando began to pull at the ties of his shirt, stripping it over his head to reveal tanned skin and the swell of muscles Jack had only glimpsed in his time aboard the Silent Mary.
“I have tried to keep the peace… I have tried not to push you or take from you while you were in no position to give. But you keep insisting on finding new perches, little sparrow.” Armando’s anger seeped into the words but unlike the rage that left Jack on edge in the man’s office, this anger made Jack’s skin burn. “First, you spend your days with my Lieutenant and now… now you attempt to sell yourself into a brothel.”
Jack crawled backwards on the bed until he was pressed up against the pillows. “What…” he swallowed, “What choice have you left me? Avoiding me, being a biased bastard as bad as them brits.” His words slurred with alcohol, but his own righteous anger helped keep his wits. “You sound jealous, but when I tried to offer myself up, you acted like I committed a sin!”
Something dark passed over Armando’s face. “I am jealous. I want to pluck the eyes of those who look at you. I wanted to cast my own friend overboard for the attention you paid him even when I knew it was my fault. The sin is not yours – it is mine. This sin of wanting you, of wanting to have you, to take advantage of your situation and tie you to me…”
Armando placed a knee on the bed, a hand wrapping around Jack’s ankle. He sucked in a breath as his boot was removed. Both were cast aside. Those strong hands became gentle shackles, keeping him from running further but not pulling him in.
“Wanting me… I’ve wanted you from the moment you saved me.” Anger turned to something softer but no less warm. “You call it taking or demanding me to give. Can this not simply be a mutual want? A desire to have and be held?”
“You call it simple yet for me it is everything. To have you is to present a weakness, someone who could be harmed… And I am not one to let go of something once I’ve caught it. You flutter about the ship like a little bird, you gaze out at horizons and I fear one day you will fly over one where I cannot follow. It makes me want to break your wings before you ever get the chance to consider leaving.” His hands tightened on Jack’s ankles.
That should scare him. Really it should. Really it does… But the weight of what he lost – things Armando only knows in pieces – mixed with this aching wish to be held by Armando…
“You’ve made a decision already. That’s why you brought me here, why you stripped off your shirt.” Jack whispers. “You want me, and I’ve been trying to give myself to you for weeks. So, have me. We can figure out the rest when morning comes.” Armando’s intentions were clear, his hunger and his rage were consuming him. Jack didn’t want the man’s hesitation. He wanted Armando to give in. “If you can’t, then take me back to the brothel and let me comfort myself for gold instead of this trap of fragile affection.”
Armando’s rage was swift.
He dragged Jack by the ankles until he was seated between his thighs. Jack’s hands flew to Armando’s shoulders as the man claimed his mouth in a violent kiss. Their teeth clicked. Jack parted his lips, allowing himself to be plundered without restraint. He arched into the kiss, fingers digging into Armando’s hair to pull at inky strands.
Different from the last, Jack felt like his was being devoured by the man above him.
Armando’s hands weren’t idle. They smoothed over his thighs, pushing his shirt up until they were forced to break apart so he could be rid of it. Jack’s mind was still swimming in liquor. He struggled to keep up, even as he hoped enthusiasm would cover his inexperience.
He tried to arch into another kiss, but Armando pinned him to the mattress with strong hands. They swept over his sides, setting his skin ablaze before calloused fingers found his nipples. Jack gasped. His head fell back on the pillows, eyes wide as Armando plucked, rolled, pinched, and teased his nipples. He was relentless. Jack didn’t even know he was so sensitive there, he’d seen and heard the women of Shipwreck – the doxies who worked the taverns for clients – speak of men with talented fingers but he hadn’t known it would feel like this.
Armando seemed intent on overwhelming him, on picking him apart until he could only think of his captain…
Teeth dug into his skin. Kisses, sucking and biting, were trailed along his neck and shoulders so that he had no choice but to tilt his head back. Jack stared up at the cabin ceiling, whining and moaning and writhing.
Jack’s nails bit into Armando’s shoulders, dragging down his back. “More. Everything. Please…” Jack demanded, spreading his legs wider.
Thankfully, Armando didn’t drag out his torture. He undid the ties of Jack’s pants and his own, allowing Jack a moment to catch his breath. In the dim light of the cabin, Armando loomed, dangerous and ravenous over him but Jack couldn’t summon any fear. He was pliant as Armando stripped him bare, hissing as the man’s hard cock slid along the underside of his own.
At fifteen, Jack knew he had some growing left to do… But Armando was heavy and thick against him and Jack trembled at the sparks of pleasure dancing in his veins. Curiosity won out as his fingers trailed over Armando’s length.
Armando caught Jack’s hand with a groan, guiding him to take both their cocks at once. Jack’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. His head was swimming, the sudden tumble towards lust too much for his drunken mind. The sobriety he held on while angry was lost in the whirlwind.
No words were exchanged. Armando watched his face, and Jack could only stare in slack-jawed pleasure as the captain showed him how to stroke their cocks as one. Jack’s other hand tangled in Armando’s hair, dragging him close to arch into another kiss.
Time made no sense to Jack. All he knew was the mingling of their breaths, the taste of Armando’s tongue, and the slide of their conjoined hands over their cocks. He was dizzy, overcome with pleasure, and certain he was on the cusp of fainting.
His thighs tensed around Armando’s hips, back arching, and a sob of pleasure tumbled between their spit slick lips as he came over their fingers and against his own stomach. The pleasure tipped almost too painful as Armando continued to stroke himself until his spend joined Jack’s.
Jack’s vision grew hazy as Armando pulled back from the kiss… And then the world went entirely black.
***
Armando sat back on his knees, looking down at Jack’s unconscious form. He was a mess, dark hair fanning out around him, lips swollen and shining with drool, stomach dirtied with their combined spend…
He smeared his hand through the mess, working it into Jack’s skin.
“…I will not be able to let you go now, sparrow.” Armando whispered. He dragged Jack into this sin with him, now they would drown in it. A better man would be filled with regret. Armando was only filled with anticipation.