Tangible Schizophrenia

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Aphrodisiac

Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: NC-17. Food-kink.
Pairing: Jack/Will/Elizabeth
Feedback: Typos, good lines, etc.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Chocolate existed in bar form by 1674. It was and is still perceived to be an aphrodisiac. The civilizations of Central and South America often did add hallucinogenic agents to their version of chocolate.
Summary: A little snack food never hurt anyone, right?

***

“It’s such a pretty box. There are little diamonds…hmm, a little cloudy…and that’s jasper, and oh, Jack! It’s got the most beautiful pearls on the sides!” Elizabeth cooed and ran her long lovely fingers over her treasure, petting and stroking the inlaid wood carvings till it didn’t merely give a man ideas but damned near beat him with them. Something like being smashed in the head with an oar. “They’re so like your eyes, darling Will…”

She turned and looked lovingly up at her proud husband, who shuffled his feet and murmured humble little nothings that didn’t do anything to disguise the smug glint in his eye. It was the glint of a man who knew he was going to have a rich reward in his bed later, as opposed to the unfeeling glass of a bottle.

All right, Jack was being unfair. His rum was encased in a pretty bottle that curved salaciously against his hand, and had nothing to be ashamed of. But still, it wasn’t the same as having a pair of nice warm young bodies rumpling his sheets. When Jack had offered his ship as a kind of floating honeymoon for the Turners, he had been expecting some proper show of gratitude, and not merely a hug from Elizabeth—though he very much approved of her recent refusal to wear corsets—and a manly handshake from Will. Just a night. Or even a few hours on the beach while Anamaria saw to the Pearl’s careening. Anything but this endless exchange of sugared looks and loving pet names and God, the cooing.

“Let me see the lock, my sweet,” Will was saying. He took the box from Elizabeth and produced a set of lockpicks, which he expertly inserted into the…Jack tilted back to stare at the ceiling.

Stare and oh, yes, whistle, since that was all he could do.

“I wonder what on earth they could have been keeping in such a thing. It’s something you would expect to find in a church, or…no, a great cathedral with an altar stuffed with Popish nonsense and surrounded by an honor guard.” Clearly Elizabeth’s imagination had gotten the better of her again. Shame that it couldn’t do so in a more advantageous way. “Not a…where did you say you got this again, Jack?”

Ah, so they’d recalled he was there in the room with them. Jack set all four feet of his chair back on the ground and laced his fingers together. “The admiral’s private pantry, I believe. ‘spect he never believed pirates would be interested in food and hid it there.”

“Right behind his best liquor, I’d wager.” Will shot Jack a look that was half-amused, half-scolding, and so absentmindedly alluring that Jack found himself digging his nails into the back of his hands. He grinned to say he was only teasing and then cracked open the box. “You look first, mermaid.”

“Don’t call me that,” Elizabeth playfully retorted. She slipped her arm through Will’s and pressed teasingly up to his side, her head tipping back so she almost nipped his nose as she spoke. “Not unless you want me to really turn into one and jump over the side. And then you’d have to jump after me.”

No wonder Anamaria had moved her things to the other end of the ship. At first Jack had assumed it was mere jealousy, given that she currently didn’t have anyone herself, but now he saw it was simple prudence. This sort of thing could drive a man mad. Madder. “Much as the anticipation’s nice, I do have to spend time on matters like running the ship. What’s in there?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth and Will both jerked apart. A bit of flush in her face, she hurriedly took the box and squinted inside. “It’s…it’s…I think it’s chocolate.”

“What?” A little wrinkle formed between Will’s eyebrows.

She distractedly waved about her hand—which brought Jack upright; the little hussy had stolen his gestures without paying for that either—before dipping it into the box and pulling out a small dark brown chunk. After casting about a bit, Elizabeth found a spoon and used it to break off a tiny chunk, which she sniffed. Then she popped it into her mouth while Will started to panic. “Should you really—”

“Yes, it’s chocolate,” Elizabeth muttered. Some of it ended up smeared on her lip, so she wiped it off and mischievously swiped it over Will’s mouth. “It’s a sweet. And these are very good…”

Will hesitantly licked at that lovely full lower lip of his. He rolled the taste around in his mouth, and then his expression changed to shocked ecstasy. “It is good. How much is there?”

“Enough for the both of you, I’d imagine,” Jack said, getting up. Loose as his trousers were, he thought he’d better make his exit now while he still had some dignity. He waved away their belated protests. “No, no, you can have it. I’ve tried it before, didn’t care for it.”

Which was a damned lie, but Jack didn’t particularly care. He shut the door behind him, making sure it sealed too tightly for sound to carry easily, and then stomped across the deck. Though he seriously doubted whether they were even listening.

* * *

If there hadn’t been enough cabins to give Will and Elizabeth their own, then Jack never would have survived the first week. As things stood now at the start of the third week, he seemed to be spending almost as much time with his hand on his prick as he was with it on the wheel.

Elizabeth’s breasts as she bent over the table. Will laughing as a slap of sea caught him full in the face. Jack’s fingers moved faster, harder, his thumb pinching viciously at the head of his prick. He banged his head against the wall and heard an echo from…their direction. Cursing, he worked himself mercilessly till the force of his climax finally broke him to a stop.

He had a proper bed, but it was too steady for nights like this, so he also kept a hammock strung up in one corner. Once he’d cleaned off his hand, he flopped into it. Stared at the ceiling. Rolled over onto his belly and smelled the canvas, which was faintly scented with tar, rum, and salt.

“God, Will!”

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. “Lady, please make them stop. I can’t take another night of this.”

The Pearl groaned in sympathy. The next moment, she took a sudden lurch that had Jack bolting straight up until he realized the truth. Then, chuckling tiredly, he fell back into the hammock while somewhere else on the ship, two young idiots flailed on the floor where they’d been unceremoniously dumped. Sleep deigned to arrive soon after that.

* * *

It was a wonderful dream. Jack was on his belly with his legs and arms dangling in space, and his back was being attended to by two clever, hot mouths that licked and sucked and generally got his muscles to tingling pleasantly. “Hmm…Elizabeth…Will…”

“Aye, Jack. Turn over, would you?” rumbled a lazy voice. Stubble rasped pleasingly at the back of Jack’s shoulder as somebody’s hand rubbed circles down his spine. Someone else gave his arse a good pinching.

Hissing, Jack pushed himself up on his elbows. Well, that didn’t…that wasn’t a dream. There still were mouths on his back, and now there were equally shameless hands roving over his sides and—yes, that definitely was one cupping his balls. That was another one dropping something onto the dip where his spine sloped into buttocks, then sucking hard at it so it…melted? Melted and burned gently at the same time, like liquefied wax.

Someone with long hair and breasts lounged half into the hammock, then nuzzled up his chest as he twisted and turned, trying to get a good look at him. “And who the devil are—”

Elizabeth’s wide smile appeared before him, but only gave him a moment before she pressed something rich and sweet edged with spicy heat between their mouths. As with whatever Will—it had to be Will—was smearing all over Jack’s back, it melted from the heat of their bodies and delicately seared Jack’s skin, taking off only enough of his nerves to make them extraordinarily sensitive to little touches like Elizabeth’s nail against his nipple, and her tongue worming over his lip, and Will’s hands running all over Jack’s balls and prick and—wait. That was familiar…wait.

“Wait just a moment,” Jack gasped, prying himself off of Elizabeth. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer—Elizabeth, love, that’s very distracting—but--Will!”

Will couldn’t answer because he was rooting a little nubbin of something up Jack’s arse, tongue squirming and flicking so the melted stuff burned all through Jack, fiery tendrils even stretching to his brain. So Elizabeth answered for him. “Jack?”

Even with that tongue teasing his arse, Jack could see there was something wrong with the girl. Her eyes were wide and hazy, and she was swaying…exactly like he did. Only he didn’t have breasts that would crush wonderfully up against a man’s chest when he did—Jack grabbed for her and for Will. He got Will out of his arse, but the other man simply moved to tickling the back of Jack’s balls with his tongue-tip. As for Elizabeth, she seemed to think Jack wanted her to kiss his neck till he forgot how to breathe.

He did want her to do that, but that…somehow wasn’t the point. Oh, right. “Elizabeth. Have you and Will been at my rum?”

“No,” she giggled, and then she trailed a wicked long streak of heat up Jack’s throat. He shivered and accidentally loosened his grip on Will, who promptly dove back at Jack’s arsehole. The man shoved till he was damn near scraping his teeth against Jack’s backside, and Elizabeth pushed so her breasts were suddenly spilling out of Jack’s hands, and God, this wasn’t fair.

“Elizabeth—” she kissed Jack again, and then he recognized what that taste was. “The chocolate.”

She smiled dreamily and nibbled at his jaw in exact time with the flicks of Will’s tongue in and out of Jack. Jack’s thighs began to wobble and four hands grabbed at him. Not to support him, of course—his prick was in heaven and the rest of him has its work cut out for it merely trying to keep him in the hammock. He and Elizabeth collapsed forward—well, he went forward and she went back, and it was all really a kind of brownish blur that was doing very odd things to his head…

* * *

Jack woke up on the floor without much of an idea as to how he’d gotten there. Normally he didn’t mind that, but he was on the Pearl and that sort of thing didn’t happen when he was on her.

He laid there for a moment, judging how mobile he would be if he made an effort. Then he tried to sit up, but something was weighing down his arm and legs. Also, his back felt as if someone had attempted to plaster him to the deck with caulking stuff, or something along those lines. Jack tugged till his arm came loose, and with it Will, who rolled over one and a half times before he woke up.

“What the—Jack?” The other man took one look and promptly froze, staring at the scene.

“Will. Morning. Before you try to kill me, I’d like to remind you that you appear to have come here. Oh, and here’s Elizabeth.” After ripping his back off the wood, Jack turned towards the weight across his knees.

Elizabeth actually looked to have been aware since at least Jack had woken, but she seemed fascinated by what lay between Jack’s legs. He freely admitted that it was a lovely block and tackle set, but at the moment, he wished she wasn’t looking at it with such a strange combination of shock and…calculation.

Which reminded Jack. He’d gone to bed in the hammock—that was still hanging in the corner, but it was stained over with sex and something brown. Not blood or excrement, but…Jack swiped at his back, then sniffed his fingers. “Chocolate. Ah, Will, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to eat the whole lot at once?”

“We didn’t,” Will snapped. “We were saving some for you. Only…well, I don’t suppose I could call it a dream, could I?”

Jack winced inside, but outside he put on a brave front. This morning clearly wasn’t going well, but until someone threw him out a porthole, he wasn’t going to give yet. Even if his stomach was sinking nearly as fast as his heart. “Doubt so.”

“Oh, be nice, Will. If I’m remembering correctly, he did try to put us off. Only you insisted on…well…” Elizabeth’s voice trailed off. A pretty pink colored her face as she improvised a more graphic explanation with her hands.

Will responded with an expression of utter disgust and a flop backwards. “God damn it, Elizabeth.”

Jack wondered if spending a few months raiding the Barbary coast might yield up a sword of Damascus steel. If it didn’t placate Will, then Jack could always use it to defend himself and this was a depressing, depressing future.

“As if you wouldn’t have done the same if you’d gotten to it first,” Will finished.

“Excuse me?” Elizabeth said. She reared up in outrage, fists at her sides. “I would have had the decency to—in fact, I did have the decency to warm him up to it instead of merely rushing it all.”

All right…that was decidedly not what Jack had been expecting. “Er. Liza? Will?”

“Oh, what are you complaining about? You seem perfectly ecstatic when I approach you in that manner.” Now Will was pushing himself up and glaring.

“Yes, now, but perhaps someday I’d prefer a little more preparation and a little less force, my darling—”

Quiet!”

Blessed silence. For a moment, Jack just reveled in it. Then he sighed, squared his shoulders, and turned to both of them. “Will, Elizabeth…that chocolate—”

“Oh. Well. It was very good, but you really needn’t have worried, Jack. We always meant to approach you, but…” Elizabeth shrugged her pretty shoulders and looked adorably apologetic “…we were a bit distracted.”

“So I understand,” Jack muttered.

Will crawled over and looked earnestly into Jack’s face, eyes pleading for forgiveness. “Jack, we’re really very sorry if we inconvenienced you in any way. But…well, honeymoon, and my mermaid’s given up corsets…”

Jack held up a hand. The other two instantly stilled, but they relaxed a little when he patted Will on the shoulder. “I suppose we’ve evened everything out, so it’s fine. But—Will, Elizabeth, as long as I’m captain on this ship I’m Captain Jack Sparrow. Not Cappy or Jackie or God help us, Jack-lovey-dovey. Savvy?”

Will grimaced. “Were we that awful?”

“Oh, we really should do something about that,” Elizabeth purred. Which was most preferable to her damnable coo.

***

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