Pairing: Scarlet Hook

Rating: M

Word Count: 1780

Summary: sometimes I just feel the need to write pirate on thief porn. in this case, this is back in Killian's "Captain Hook" days, in which Will has taken a job as a deckhand on the Jolly to hide out from all manner of sheriffs looking to make him pay for his thieving ways.

Will stumbled below deck, navigating the twists and turns of the Jolly's lower decks with a dexterity that surprised even his own drunken self.

The latest round of ale was still swimming around his head, all murky and thick, like too many fish in a small pond. It'd been an 'ell of a night, a good one mostly, as far as pirates were concerned. The type that he probably wouldn't remember much of if he were of the mind to drink more but he'd cut himself just short and all he could think of was collapsing into his bunk and sleeping off the heavy buzz that lingered like a cloud poised over his pretty head.

It'd be a good, long sleep. They were in port for at least another day due to nasty weather and the rest of the crew (aside from the poor sods who'd latest irked the captain left on duty watching over the ship) were still at the tavern, having their fill of rum and women.

Will had just about made it to his old, moldy scrap of a bunk when he felt a hand grasp and twist into the thin material of his shirt and tug – hard – his back all but slamming into the smooth, cool wood of the crew's quarters.

"Bloody-"

His vision cleared just enough to make out a shadowy yet undeniably familiar figure in the darkness of the Jolly Roger's belly.

"Killian?"

"That's still Captain to you, Scarlet," he growled gruffly and promptly covered his mouth with his, all teeth and tongue, thrusting, sweeping, taking – just like he had five nights before, rum soaked and needing and all sorts o' wrong.

(Will had always liked a little wrong, though he had never expected to like it like that.)

(He did though.)

"Captain," he gasped when the pirate finally broke away, allowing him only a sharp intake of salty, musty, sea air before crushing his lips again fiercely and pressing him harder into the wall at his back, nipping roughly at his lower lip to the point that he'd bruise. "The-the bloody 'ell do- do ya think-"

"No talking," Killian commanded in a slurred but authoritative tone that Will Scarlet would never admit sent shivers that trailed quick as lightning down his spine and ended in his cock.

Will Scarlet wasn't the type for listenin' and especially not the type to be takin' orders that didn't serve his own purpose, but the tightness in his trousers and the way the captain kept kissing on him and grinding his damn hips into his like there was no tomorrow was definitely serving his rather new-found purpose of sorts, so for the moment, he obliged.

"Tell me, Scarlet, was that little show you put on intentional?"

Will wasn't sure if he was meant to answer so he surged forward and kissed him again, grunting in disappointment when Killian wrenched his lips away, moaning all over when he began a valiant effort in his particular state of inebriation to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses and nips down the column of his throat and as far as Will was concerned it was a bloody success.

Was there anything this bloody bastard could do to him that didn't end up making him melt into a puddle of bloody lust or had it just been too fuckin' long for this poor, old thief?

"That wench," Killian groaned into his neck and Will flinched, biting back a whimper when he felt teeth close around his skin.

Gods, he loved when the pirate got mouthy (and how exactly could he even be having thoughts like that if it'd only been once? A particular once that he hadn't exactly planned to make a twice, not that he'd thought much on the option).

"That bloody wench was all over you."

"Wha'?"

Killian growled and rocked his hips forward with a breathy pant and another one of those thrills ran down Will's spine because of all the ways Captain Hook was precise and calculated, planning everything down to the letter, this was most definitely none of the above.

"Didn't think it mattered." His teeth scraped Will's throat. "Didn't think it would be more than one mistake of a night. And then I saw you with that bloody wench," the spat the word like it was the vilest of poisons. "Touching you. Sitting in your damned lap."

Ah, yes. That.

Mary, she'd said her name was.

Lovely lass with a pretty enough face, buxom and making no move to hide it. It took no time at all to figure out why she kept bringing him his beers quicker than the others (hard to miss when the woman slips into your lap smooth as butter), and he wasn't going to discourage it none. He was certainly no stranger to a little amorous congress, and maybe it would get a certain congress he'd taken part in the week before that was just downright confusing out of his head.
Besides, what kind of man would he be if he didn't take advantage of the perks of bunking with a bunch of pirates?

(Maybe the type that bedded the captain, because before too long, the drink had gone to his head and seeing as she'd disappeared some place, he'd decided to make his way back to his own bed rather than search for hers.)

He was snapped out of his thoughts when the captain's hand slid from where it rest flat against the wall beside his head down so that he could awkwardly palm his hardened length through his leathers, sliding up and down in quick, graceless jerks.

Gods, bloody hell, he was letting this happen again and he wanted it, gods, did he want it.

"Tell me, Scarlet," he grunted, glancing down at the thick outline of his cock. "Did she have you like this?"

Will bit his lip and pushed his hips further into Killian's hand.

Yes, yes, yes.

Killian squeezed, running his hand over the bulge in a tight fist and there was no holding back the moan this time because he'd had too much bloody drink for trying to keep quiet.

"Well?"

"Though' I wasn't s'posed ta talk?"

Killian growled and buried his face back into the crook of his neck in response, sucking a mark that would bloom bright and purple on his shoulder. He was still palming at him, rough and clumsy-like but more than enough to do the job and how the bloody hell had this even happened? Yet here he was, making a stitch with the damned captain of a bunch of pirates.

(And to think two weeks before the thought of being with a man had never particularly crossed his mind, more than a drunken thought… or two… or six… it had just been a curiosity, really.)

"Shut it, Scarlet."

"See? Now, you're just sendin' mixed signals," Will chuckled, managing a cocky lilt, leaning back and sliding his teeth over his bottom lip in a way that could only be described as an attempt at seductive.

He rolled his hips forward, getting a good, healthy feel of what the Captain was hiding beneath his own trousers, though he'd gotten a healthier feel than anything a week ago (and maybe it was the drink, but perhaps, just a bit he might not mind feelin' it again).

Killian ignored his sass and it was probably for his own good that he didn't bother repeating himself because he was kissing him again, hot and deep, hips rocking, hook slamming into the wall a bit too close for comfort. Will opened his eyes when he felt the other man's hand begin to delve beneath his laces, tugging and working at them with far too little finesse for a man well versed with knots but he had had his face in a mug of rum half the night.

His sleeve slid up his forearm and a flash of color caught Will's eye. If he hadn't had more beer than he had any business consuming on an empty stomach, he might have kept his mouth shut, but that just wasn't the case.

"Milah?"

Killian stiffened at the name, freezing like ice, every muscle tense and poised so even his chest stopped heaving mid-breath.

"So ya weren't always 'bout the men then?"

He'd like to blame the alcohol for that one too, but he never had been able to stave his curiosity and the truth is, he probably was just a fool of a bastard when it came to his damn mouth. Might as well just cut his tongue out himself while he was at it to save the Captain the trouble.

The mood shifted to something so tangible, he could practically taste the coldness in the air as he waited to see if Killian was going to fuck him or gut him. It only took a second before he got his answer as Killian dropped his hand from Will's laces and yanked the hook from the wood with a threatening growl.

Another time, Will might have prided himself on not flinching.

He took a step back. "Go to bed, Scarlet."

"What?"

Killian shook his head drunkenly. The change that had come over him was shocking, his face drawn and pale and emotionless, eyes lifeless like he was staring at nothing at all until he turned away from him.

"Was it 'bout the tattoo?"

Killian whirled on him and his eyes flashed with a rage that he had yet to see so up close and personal.

"Go to bloody bed, Scarlet. That's an order," he snarled, an edge returning to his tone, his expression, and it was just enough to scare the ever living shite out of even an intoxicated Will Scarlet.

(And that was saying bloody somethin' there.)

The captain spun on his heel and Will was left slumped against the wall, laces undone with a half hard cock and a bitten up neck and wondering just what new world he had reached when he'd stepped foot aboard the Jolly Roger for the first time, because this couldn't be any world that he was familiar with.

He heard the hatch slam to the captain's quarters and that was the kick in the arse he needed to come to his senses and stumble back into his own bunk.
Any sensible man would leave, clear out of there quick as if hell itself were chasing at his heels and never see the ship or its captain again, but Will didn't figure himself sensible at the moment.

He sank into his bed and closed his eyes.

His second to last thought before a heavy sleep overtook him was he'd be lucky if he didn't wind up murdered in his sleep.

His last was what might've happened if he hadn't noticed the tattoo.