Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean,this fanfiction was written only for fun and makes no profit.

A/N:Hiya! So, it seems I'm currently on a Pirates of the Caribbean kick, as this is the second fic I've uploaded this week. I'm a bit nervous about this one; it's a bit mature (more so than what I have previously written), and I'm not sure about some of the sentences; do they make sense to someone other than me? ^.^;;

It sorta starts off a bit PWP-ish, but then gets really fluffy. I didn't mean too, but that's the way it wanted to be written.

So please let me know what you think, and if there are any ways I can improve.

Thanks!

Warnings:This fic contains SLASH of the Jack/Will variety, and does contain SEXUAL SITUATIONS and IMAGERY. It also has SWEARING, and can be rather crude at times. If you do not like any of that, please do not read.

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Blind But Found

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Looking back, he really should have expected it.

It was obvious; a logical eventuation, and (in the way of hindsight), he could now see the signs.

But he hadn't then.

Hadn't seen it, hadn't expected Will to get drunk, and then jump him as soon as they were back on the ship. Hadn't expected Will's mouth to taste like rum, and something else that tasted a lot like the sea, with a small amount of cinnamon thrown in, and hadn't been able to say that he would like the taste; a lot.

Despite the many fantasies (really, there were too many to recall every single one, though he did know that the majority of them were distinctly wicked and oh-so sinful), he had never thought that Will would make that little noise, somewhere between a whine and a huff, if Jack clamped eager lips around a nipple and tug. Nor would he have thought that Will would laugh, a hoarse, choked sound that seemed more painful than anything, if Jack ghosted his breath along his ribs, then followed it with his callused hands.

He couldn't have foretold that Will's cock would be thick and eager, the red head dripping pre-cum on Jack's greedy lips.

And he certainly hadn't known that he would nearly cum, just from seeing his own cock buried balls-deep in Will's arse.

And if he hadn't been able to see that coming (no pun intended), he really shouldn't be surprised that he hadn't seen this either.

The bed stank of sweat and cum, and the covers were so hopelessly tangled that Jack wasn't really sure as to how to go about getting out of them. Not that he really had a mind to, what with his position.

Will was heavy, but in a deliciously real way that Jack savoured, even as his ribs creaked in protest at the lax weight that rested upon them. His left foot was asleep due to the lack of circulation resulting from Will's legs, wound snugly around his own. And when Will's breath ghosted over his ear with every exhale, a delicious shiver ran up his spine.

Jack ran his fingers over Will's back, lightly, unable to resist the temptation the supple surface provided him with, despite the threat that Will could wake.

It would not do for the lad to wake and find Jack stroking him like the previous nights tryst had meant something more than it should have, even though it might have.

But as hindsight had shown so clearly, Jack was losing his touch with predicting all things William Turner.

"Jack," Will whispered hoarsely, burying his head further into his dreadlocks.

Instantly, Jack's hand froze as he tried to repress the surprise that welled within him.

"Will, love," Jack began, his quick mind presenting twenty different things he could end that sentence with, though he was already slapping himself for the slip of the tongue. But before any honey-coated words could slip past his teeth, Will had already groaned and tightened his hold on his waist.

"Shut up Jack. My head hurts and my arse burns, so shut up, save me the confusion, and go back to sleep."

Shock, more than Will's demand, shut Jack up, as well as the fierce possessiveness that flared within his chest and groin at the thought that he was the reason for the burn in Will's arse.

"Will?" He found himself asking anyway, not intending too, and certainly not meaning to sound so...confused.

Will sighed, the breath whooshing over Jack's neck.

"Jack," he whispered, voice raw and hoarse, "I could listen as you tell me that last night was fun and we really should do that again sometime, even though you have no intention of doing so because you really want to, but you wouldn't say that last part because that would give the game away and show that it meant more than you wanted it to."

Jack was sure that he was not that easy to read, thank you very much, though it didn't seem to stop Will from continuing. "I could then explain to you that I've been dreaming about having you fuck my hand, or my mouth, or my arse for the last seven months, but could only actually do something about it when you thought that I was pissed to hell, though I may have been half way there, and that the actual act meant a lot more than I had feared it would, and I really, really hope we do that again; except, I would actually mean it as I wouldn't be trying to pretend that I didn't."

Will took a deep breath, then added, "Or, you can shut up and let me go back to sleep, and afterwards we can work on the whole you-fucking-me thing in more detail."

Will hadn't looked up as he talked, hadn't even opened his eyes, but Jack could feel a tension in the boys' muscles that belied his calm words.

And Jack was glad that Will hadn't looked up, because that way he didn't see how his heart had suddenly lodged in his throat, or the fact that he felt lost, yet had the disconcerting feeling that he had finally been found.

It took a moment for Jack's muscles to unfreeze, and for his hand to resume its' absentminded petting, but when they did it was to the releasing of Will's tension, and a soft, grateful kiss pressed to the underside of his jaw.

"Sounds good, love," Jack whispered, and later he would blame the hoarseness in his voice on having a few too many the night before.

It wasn't often that Jack missed something; not something big or important, and certainly not something of this nature.

But he hadn't seen this coming.

He hadn't the skill to see that he and Will would share a bed for the ensuing years, nor that Will's bed would be the only one he shared – and vice versa.

He hadn't been able to foretell that there would come a time where he would choose Will over the Pearl, and do it without hesitation, and without a second thought. (The fact that they then won his lady back was a very nice bonus, but a moot point in the scheme of things.)

The fact that they would – on the deck of the Pearl with the ocean swelling under them – exchange simple gold bands in a promise that wasn't necessary, and that Jack would then treasure that thin strip of gold above all the rubies and diamonds that he amassed over the years – could not, and had not, been seen then.

But looking back, Jack didn't mind in the least that he had lost his ability to predict all things William Turner.

That small ability was the least of what had been stolen by his pirate in the years they had spent together, and only one of many things that now lay beside Jack's heart; held so gently in the palm of Will's hand.

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Fin

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Authors Request: Please let me know if this fic can be improved in any way, or if you did or did not like it. All feedback is welcome, and sought after. :)

Thank you for reading!