This Beautiful Skin
By: Missfortune
Disclaimer: I do not own them, 'cause if I did they'd be wearing collars with my name on them ^_~!
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Strictly platonic Jack/Will!!!, references to slightly abusive Norri/Will
Notes: Okey Dokey, here we shall begin the redemption of dear Norri ^_^ He just had a bad day and no, you cannot put his testicles in a clamp o.o That would hurt. Here the story takes a little turn, so please bear with my poor confuzzled Commodore ^_^

Will woke with a moan. His head felt as though it was splitting open. His pillow moved beneath him and he cracked one eye open. It wasn’t a pillow, it was a person. Cracking the other eye open, he squinted at the person beside him.

“Jack?”

“Aye?”

“What’re you doing here?” Will asked slowly, trying not to make his head ache any more than it already did.

“Was sleepin’, till ye woke me.” Jack replied as he shifted and sat up.

“My head hurts.” Will said, stretching out in Jack’s warm spot.

“You got a little happy with the rum last night,” Jack replied as he stood up and walked over to a bucket in the corner to relieve himself.

Will listened to the sound of water in the bucket and suddenly realized that he needed to go too. With a sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Once his feet were on the ground, he attempted to stand. The world wavered around him and he found himself lying on the bed staring at the roof.

“Are ye all right lad?” Jack asked walking over.

“I need to go,” Will said, waving towards the bucket.

“C’mon, lemme help. Yer lookin’ a bit green there.” Jack hauled Will to his feet and nearly dragged him over to the bucket in the corner. He propped Will against the wall, but with both hands busy holding himself up, he was quite useless. Jack helpfully lifted the chemise. As he saw what Will wore underneath, he whistled. “Ah, so that’s what you were hidin’ under there. Mighty fancy.”

Will blushed as Jack helped him to use the bucket. Jack tucked him back into the delicate undergarment and led him back to the bed, unfazed. Will curled up on the bed and pulled the blanket over his head.

“Think you’ll survive?”

“I’m never drinking again,” Will moaned from underneath the blanket.

Jack chuckled. “You just recover, I’ll be around getting’ meself into trouble.”

Will peeped out of the blanket. “Jack…don’t get caught.”

Jack grinned. “I won’t. I’m Captain Jack Sparrow.”

“I know…Jack?”

“Yes lad?”

“Thank you,” Will whispered.

“Think nothin’ of it Will. Just get some rest. Sweet dreams.” Jack slipped out of the room, leaving Will to sleep off the rest of his hangover. He went out into the shop and found Will’s master sleep by the fire. That was how he’d originally seen the man. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that the old blacksmith hadn’t moved since their first unfortunate meeting. Jack wandered around the shop, looking over the variety of swords and daggers that Will had created. There were other less spectacular works such as cauldrons and horseshoes, but the swords were much more interesting and finely crafted. He was just testing out the balance of one of the more decorated blades, when the door to the shop opened. Jack quickly stepped behind a column as he waited to see who would step inside.

Norrington walked in, closing the door behind him. He looked around warily, as if expecting a pirate to pop out of the shadows. Of course, one did.

“Good day, Commodore,” Jack called out casually as he stepped out from behind the column, sword in hand.

“Sparrow,” Norrington acknowledged, his hand going to the hilt of his own sword.

“Don’t worry,” Jack called, “I ain’t ready to go through with me plan yet. What are you here for? To apologize I s’pose.”

“You would suppose right.”

“What are you going to say?”

“What business is that of yours?” Norrington snapped.

“I just made it my business mate. Tell me what you’re thinking of saying. Don’t need you makin’ the situation worse ‘n it already is.” Jack fingered the sharp edge of the sword.

“What do you mean worse?”

“I’ll be askin’ the questions around here! Tell me what you mean to say!”

“Jack?” Jack turned at the sound of his name followed by a thump and a fit of coughing.

“Will!” Jack tossed the sword and quickly hurried back to Will’s bedroom. Will was kneeling on the floor retching. “Oh Will,” Jack hurried to kneel by his side, pulling back his hair and rubbing his back.

Will moaned as he spit out the last of his dinner and the rum. “Jack, no more rum,” Will whimpered.

“Hush lad, it’s all right, let’s get you back to the bed.” Jack helped Will to stand and sat him on the bed. “Look now, you got your little slip all dirty. C’mon, off with it.” Jack started to pull the light garment over Will’s head. As he got it off, he used the corner of the material to wipe Will’s face. “Are you okay lad?”

“Feel like a cannonball took my head,” Will groaned as he flopped back on the bed in nothing but the lacy panties.

“Sleep it off, I’ll clean this mess.” Jack patted Will’s leg, but it seemed that Will had already gone back to sleep.

“Is something wrong?” Jack’s head snapped up to see Norrington standing in the doorway looking at the mess on the floor with distaste.

“Yeah something’s wrong. Will’s tossing out his sorrows all across the floor…and on his clothes,” Jack said waving to the mess.

“Tossing his sorrows?”

“Yeah, ‘e drank ‘em away last night and now they’re coming back to haunt him.” Jack used Will’s dirty breeches to wipe up the mess on the floor. He looked around and found a sack with a few other pieces of laundry and tossed the whole mess in. “Looks like it’s laundry day. Nothin’ for it, these’ll have to be washed before it gets worse.” Jack stood up.

“What? You’re leaving?” Norrington asked, surprised as Jack approached him with the sack.

“Laundry. Besides, you need to apologize to ‘im, you can wait around until you figure out what it is you need to say and say it. Oh, and get some clothes on the poor lad. Take good care of him, else I’ll be taking good care of you.” Jack grinned as he slipped out of the door.

“Sparrow!” Norrington turned, but the pirate seemed to have vanished. “Damned pirate!” With a sigh, he turned back to Will. For the first time, he seemed to notice exactly what he was or rather wasn’t wearing. The young blacksmith was clothed only in the sassy little lace panties that he’d sent to Elizabeth. Norrington was shocked at how…tempting Will looked spread across the bed in nothing but the skimpy garment. Norrington shook his head. “Grab a hold of yourself man,” he muttered. “This is Turner we’re talking about.” He'd already gotten himself in enough trouble with such uncouth behavior the previous day, he was loathe to make the same mistake again, especially with Sparrow‘s threat hanging over his head.

Norrington had to put something on Will, and quickly. The young man’s nakedness prompted more of those unsavory thoughts to well up within him. He hunted around the room, but it seemed that all of Turner’s clothes had been in the small sack that Sparrow had removed from the room. The only garments left were the female ones he’d sent to Elizabeth that were tucked into a large trunk. He couldn’t really leave Turner practically naked on the bed, so with a sigh he returned to the trunk. He was sure that he had sent Elizabeth at least one nightgown. He rifled through the clothing until he came across an expensive silk nightgown that he had sent. It was a shame that all the money he’d spent on Elizabeth had ended up being a waste.

Norrington took the nightgown over to the bed and began to maneuver Will into it. Will sighed softly as the material was pulled down around him and began to snuggle against Norrington. The Commodore tried to move, but Will had gotten a hold of his thigh and pulling away could wake him. With a resigned sigh, he stayed sitting on the bed with Will sprawled out in tempting female clothes and using his leg as a pillow. The nightgown hadn’t been pulled down past Will’s waist so Norrington pulled the blanket up to cover the sight of those long legs and creamy thighs. They gave him ideas. Ideas that were best left un-thought.

He sat back and prepared himself for a long wait. Looking down at the young man, he began to go over his apology. Now that Will was curled up against him and he had seen the effects of his behavior and sudden violence against Turner, the well-thought out speech seemed quite lame even to him. In truth, he had no reason to treat Turner as he had. He had purposely tried to hurt the young man. Turner had been right, he had been being purposely cruel. He’d just been so angry! Not only was Elizabeth rejecting his gifts, but Turner was parading around in them! He had lashed out with every intention of breaking the boy.

It seemed that he had done quite a spectacular job of that. So why wasn’t he satisfied? Those actions had been against his nature. The anger and cruelty he’d struck out with were not something in his character. It was as though he had suddenly turned into a ruthless, moral-less pirate. Yet, that comparison was inaccurate, as it seemed that Sparrow was taking superb care of the young man. Captain Jack Sparrow, the last pirate scourge of the Caribbean, was treating Will with all the care one would use with their own child. While Commodore Norrington of the British Royal Navy acted like some sort of savage. What irony.

And still, the question remained, how exactly should he apologize for his behavior? Had someone done the same to him, he wasn't sure a simple apology would suffice. So how could he expect Turner to accept just that? Simply put, he couldn't. He had to go beyond a simple apology. In his lap, Will shifted restlessly and Norrington looked down at him. As Will's head tossed, his left cheek was exposed and Norrington gasped at the sight of the dark, nearly black, bruise that marred the young man's cheek. He distinctly remembered slapping Turner the day before. His hand had throbbed afterwards, but he'd hardly thought a thing of it. The anger and adrenaline had masked any pain he'd felt. He could actually see the damage now and realized just how much harm he'd done. It had been less of a slap and more of a blow with all of his strength behind it. He hadn't really noticed it earlier as he'd been so focused on Will's lack of clothing. Norrington reached out to touch the edges of the swollen bruise and Will whimpered, turning away from him.

"I'm sorry," Norrington muttered, pulling his hand away. Will continued to moan and shift restlessly, caught in the grips of some nightmare.

"No," Will whimpered. Norrington watched as Will squirmed around on the bed, his hands brought up in a defensive position. "No! I didn't!"

"Didn't what?" Norrington asked softly, more to himself than to Will.

"Didn't steal. Not a thief!" Will cried. "Not a...a whore."

"No," Norrington was forced to agree with a sigh, "You're not a whore. I was wrong. I made a grievous error in judgment."

"Not a whore," Will repeated, his face stricken at the very thought. "I just wanted..." He trailed off, turning away from Norrington.

"Just wanted what?" Norrington pressed, seeing a window into Will's mysterious thoughts. Why had Will been dressed up in women's clothing? What drove such actions? Burning with curiosity, Norrington leaned over Will, being careful not to wake him. He stroked Will's back soothingly, trying to comfort him even as he questioned him further. "What did you want William?"

Will sighed as he relaxed under Norrington's gentle hands. "To be beautiful." Will murmured.

Norrington paused. "To be beautiful?"

"'s all I wanted," Will whispered as he drifted into a deeper sleep.

Norrington was left to mull over the answer as he watched Will sleep away the rest of the morning.

To Be Continued...

So, even though Jack was not supposed to be in this fic, he is firmly entrenched now and has become Will's defender/Fairy God Pirate ^_^ Man, that gives me such awful plot bunnies. Anyway, next person that demands Jack/Will, shall get a cursed coin and shoved into the moonlight. Not meaning to be rude of course, but it is my story and no amount of begging will change the plot in my head ^_^ So anyway, stay tuned.