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One Perfect Day

wicked_jade

God Give Me Strength

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One Perfect Day

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God Give Me Strength
Title: One Perfect Day
Authors: wicked_jade
Summary: James Norrington wants to give Andrew Gillette one perfect day; Andrew just wants to go back to bed.
Genre: Comedy, Romance.
Characters: Norrington, Gillette
Pairings: Gillington
Rating: Hard R, mostly for language.
Warnings:  100% pure, snarky, slashy fluff.
Disclaimer: PotC and it's characters, including Norrington, do not belong to me. James and Andrew belong to each other.

Comments are loved and appreciated. :)  If there's enough demand for it, I might consider continuing this.  The smutty boat!sex just wouldn't fit into this part.

Author's Note:
 Quite possibly the only thing I really loved about DMC (apart from the Scruffington snark) was Will's coat.  I loved that coat.  I still covet that coat.  So when I started writing this, I got to thinking...the only thing better than a pretty boy in a leather coat is a sexy man in a leather coat, right?  Right.

             If there was one thing Andrew Gillette hated more than mornings, it was nature. Well, not all nature. Just green and leafy nature. The kind of nature that, despite its lack of sentience, seems to have a mind of its own. So he wasn’t exactly pleased to find himself in the middle of the jungle – before the sun had even risen, which was just peachy – being besieged by branches and vines. Andrew wiped away the sweat dripping in his eyes with an angry swipe and glared at the trees that seemed to close in all sides, their long black shadows caging him as surely as the bars of a prison. Despite the early hour, the air was still oppressively heavy, and the low chatter of birds and insects hummed dully in his ears. It only added to his growing paranoia that the flora and fauna were actively whispering behind his back and conspiring against him. It seemed that nature had it in for Andrew Gillette.
This suspicion was only confirmed when, for the fifth time in the last half hour, Andrew stumbled over a tree root. The dark, overgrown jungle path he was on was lined with a dense undergrowth of thorny – and as he could now personally attest, bloody painful – bushes and vines, and he barely managed to stop his fall against the trunk of the offending tree before falling headlong into the thorns for a second time that morning. Andrew cursed under his breath as he righted himself, wincing at the stinging in his scraped palms. Nature – 5; Andrew – 0, he thought dismally. He couldn’t see them clearly in the pre-dawn darkness, but he was fairly certain that the skin was torn. A small trickle of blood was forming a shallow puddle in his right palm, and he cradled it to his chest as he searched the pockets of his plain brown coat for a handkerchief. His curses grew exponentially louder and more explicit with the realization that he had forgotten to bring one.
            Andrew thought about calling out to his companion for help, but decided his pride had already been wounded enough for one morning. Instead, he decided to lean against the gnarled tree and catch his breath while he waited to see how long it would take his partner to realize he had fallen behind. Again. Last time it had taken nearly five minutes (and another five to extract him from the carnivorous, man-eating shrubbery.)
            Thankfully, it didn’t take nearly as long as he expected. Seconds later the soft footfalls on the path ahead came to a sudden halt. Andrew idly sucked at the pad of his right thumb as he waited, grimacing at the coppery tang of blood on his tongue as he nursed a shallow cut. His poor, sleep-deprived mind immediately began to wander as he rested his heavy head against the tree. It strayed to thoughts of luxuriously soft pillows and decadently huge beds. With his eyelids drooping to half mast, he was oblivious to the black shadow that silently melted from the surrounding darkness, its green eyes glinting with predatory hunger as it stalked its prey.   Andrew was startled from his daydreams of smooth satin sheets and slow, drowsy good-morning sex by a low, feral growl a mere inch from his left ear. He screamed in a decidedly unmanly way as a hot puff of breath tickled his bare throat. 
            “Dawdling again, are we?” James Norrington drawled as he attacked, pinning his prey against the tree before Andrew could topple over the tangle of roots in a frightened attempt to scramble away. He brushed his lips over Andrew’s neck, letting his teeth graze over the pounding pulse point as he tasted the sweat and dirt that mingled on his lover’s pale skin. “You know, it’s unwise to let your guard down in the jungle, Mr. Gillette. You never know what might be waiting to pounce.”
            “For fuck’s sake, stop doing that!” Andrew yelled, giving James a hard shove in the chest that sent the man reeling. James’s chuckle as he stumbled back a step only managed to incense Andrew further.   He tried his best to collect the tattered remains of his dignity, swatting away James’s hands as they tried once again to right his precarious balance by snaking around his waist. He was still trembling and he didn’t want to give James the satisfaction of feeling the fine tremors. “The only thing that’s pounced me so far is you! And not in the good I’m going to fuck you through the forest floor way, I might add. I’m in more danger of having a heart attack than being devoured by wild beasts. I swear to god, you’re worse than a fucking cat – do that one more time and I’ll put a bell on you.” 
            James frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t think you would consider ‘I’m going to fuck you through the forest floor’ pouncing to be good. Still,” a wolfish grin spread over James’s face as he took a step closer, “it could be fun…and we could be as noisy as we like. Don’t think the birds will mind too much.”
“No! Just…no!” Andrew stopped to take a deep, steadying breath and gave James his best evil eye. “You’re an absolute bastard, you know that?”
            “So you’ve told me. Multiple times. In about five different languages. What was that last one, anyway?” James murmured, an infuriating smile in his smooth voice. Still, he approached more cautiously, staying just out of reach in case Andrew wasn’t finished walloping him. “I suppose I deserve it, though. I’m sorry I gave you a fright.”
            Andrew huffed irritably and rolled his eyes. “Yes, you do deserve it. And for your information, it was six, and the last one was German.” He crossed his arms over his chest and balled his hands into tight fists, wincing as the right one gave a nasty throb.
            “German?” There was a questioning note in James’s voice as he took another tentative step forward, his concerned green eyes darting between the pained grimace on Andrew’s face and the way he kept flexing his right hand. James raised an inquisitive eyebrow, silently held out his own hand and sighed in relief when Andrew finally gave up and stuck out his wounded palm for examination.
            “Teddy,” Andrew answered simply as James pulled his hand closer, eyes squinting in the dark green gloom to get a better look at the scrape. James rolled his eyes; of course it was Teddy. It was always Teddy. Whenever there was an interesting story, Teddy Groves had a way of being at the center of it. “I was late meeting him at a pub one evening and walked in on a blazing row between him and a young woman. Well, it wasn’t so much a row as her shrieking at him in German and smacking him round the head with her parasol and Teddy flailing apologetically while trying to dodge it. Long story short, he thought she was a whore and propositioned her, and she took exception.”
            James chuckled as he placed a gentle kiss to Andrew’s bloodied palm. “This doesn’t look too bad. Just a scrape. It’s already stopped bleeding, but I’ll wrap it just in case.” James leaned forward and stole a tender kiss from Andrew’s lips. “So she wasn’t a whore then, I take it? Oh I’m going to have to remember this one later. Theodore Groves finally meeting a lady he could not charm? You’ve just made my morning.”
            “Oh no, she was a whore.” Andrew smiled for the first time that morning at the bewildered look on Norrington’s face. “Just an expensive one. Teddy abandoned me shortly thereafter to drown his wounded pride in a keg of ale. I saw her again and went up to apologize for my friend’s unwanted advances. I knew just enough German to ascertain that Teddy’s advances weren’t so much unwanted as they were….economical. She was insulted that he thought her that cheap. To thank her for giving me the best laugh I’d had all week, I paid her to spend a few hours with me, teaching me all of the curses she’d hurled at Teddy. And a few another things,” Andrew added with a mischievous smile.
            Norrington paused as he pulled a clean handkerchief from the pockets of his black coat. He raised one quizzical eyebrow and glanced up as he started to bind Andrew’s wounded hand. “Let me get this straight. You paid a whore to spend an evening with you, just to teach you how to curse in German? Do you make a habit of this?”
            Andrew rolled his eyes and gave James his best look of longsuffering patience. “Well, yes. It’s not as though her other services appealed to me. It’s a win-win situation, when you think about it. The girls basically get a paid break for the evening, and I’m seen leaving in the company of lovely young women, thereby diverting suspicion from my true proclivities. That would be you, by the way,” Andrew added, pushing a thigh between James’s legs. He slid his free hand beneath his lover’s coat, cupping a hip to pull him closer. “Meanwhile, I learn all manner of exotic, scandalous things to moan while you’ve got me bent over your desk.” Andrew traced the shell of James’s ear with the tip of his tongue and smiled when he felt him shudder. His voice dropped to a seductive purr as he nipped at James’s earlobe. “I’ll make you a deal…if we turn around and go back to the house right now, I’ll give you a lesson in Italian.”
            It took an amazing amount of willpower for James to pull away. He heaved a ragged sigh as he finished tying the makeshift bandage around Andrew’s hand and stepped back. “Nice try, but no. We’re already behind schedule – we really need to press forward or we’re going to be late.”
            “Late for what?!” Andrew howled in exasperation, throwing his hands up in a gesture of pure frustration. “Will you please stop being so bloody mysterious and just tell me where the hell you’re taking me?”
            James tilted his head to the side for a long moment and bit his lower lip as though seriously considering the request. “No,” he finally said with a nod and a grin that was entirely too bright for half past five in the morning, before turning on his heel and striding purposefully back down the path. “It’s something you need to see. Now come on then, enough stalling. Forward march!”
            “Fuck marching, and fuck you,” Andrew grumbled, even as he followed James, stomping like a petulant toddler all the way. “Actually no, I take back that last part. There will be no fucking until you tell me what is going on.”
            “Pity, that. I was half hoping you’d shove me up against the nearest tree and take me from behind.”
“Be careful what you wish for, darling,” Andrew growled, glaring at the back of James’s neck. They continued on in silence for several long minutes, James’s graceful, sure strides leading the way while Andrew trudged behind. He broke the silence with another curse when he caught the toe of his boot in a vine. James only stopped for a moment, tapping the toe of his boot impatiently while Andrew disentangled himself. As soon as Gillette was free, Norrington was off again, his steps as smooth and silent as a jaguar as he slipped in and out of the dense green shadows.
Andrew hurried to catch up, the earliness of the hour and the sticky humidity of the jungle making him more irritable by the second. He was tired, sweaty, and completely disheveled, and the sun hadn’t even risen yet. And it wasn’t the sated, post-coital sort of filthiness that he liked. “You know James, the whole purpose of joining the navy was so that I would never have to march. I don’t do marching. If I wanted to go tromping through the wilderness at ungodly hours of the morning, I would’ve joined the sodding army.”
            “Funny, and here I was thinking you joined the navy because your hair would clash dreadfully with those red coats,” quipped James, not bothering to slow down or look back.
            Since pleading and complaining weren’t working, Andrew decided to try a good old-fashioned ultimatum. “James, if you don’t tell me where we’re going right this instant, I swear I will turn around and go home.”
            “No you won’t,” said James in a sing-song tone that was far too self-assured.
            “And what makes you so certain, Mr. Norrington?” Andrew growled, stumbling again as he rushed to keep up with James’s long, smooth strides.
            “Because I don’t think you’d want to risk trying to find the way back on your own. And because you enjoy following me too much to ever turn around,” James added with a taunting of sway his hips, finally turning to smirk at Andrew over his shoulder.
            “Smug sonofa – “ Andrew muttered, scowling at the truth of James’s words. He really would follow James anywhere; current homicidal urges aside, he loved the man dearly. The fantastic view just happened to be a very nice perk. 
Though he could barely make James out in the dark, the view this particular morning was still superb. James had abandoned his uniform in favor of civilian clothes, and had insisted that Andrew do the same when he rudely woke him over an hour before. Over the years, Andrew had seen James in uniform, out of uniform, and in every stage of undress in between, but he had never seen him like he was just then. So if Andrew was being exceptionally clumsy during their hike, it was all James Norrington’s fault. No man could be expected to walk straight – let alone trek through the bloody dark jungle – when he was as hard as Andrew was just then. Andrew had to adjust himself in his breeches yet again as he took a moment to admire the scenery. Without a doubt, James Norrington was the biggest tease in Port Royal. He knew exactly what he was doing, the effect he was having on his lover, and Andrew couldn’t decide if he loved or hated him for it. He was leaning toward love, but it was early yet and it could still go either way.
            In a complete departure from the typical pristine white and gleaming gold of his uniform, James was clad almost entirely in black. And god, did it suit him. Obscenely tight black breeches hugged his hips and arse, practically begging Andrew to slowly peel them off. From the knee down those sinfully long legs were encased in worn black boots, the leather molded perfectly to James’s muscular calves. Like all of James’s favorite things they were a bit battered; each scuff mark seemed to speak of its own adventure, have its own story to tell. More than once that morning, Andrew had caught himself fantasizing about fucking James while he still had those boots on. He desperately wanted to know how those leather-clad legs would feel wrapped around his hips as he thrust roughly into James’s body. In fact, it was that very thought that had resulted in Andrew tripping and falling into that thorny bush half an hour ago. (Though he would never admit that to James, despite the fact that he suspected the man already knew. His story about nearly stepping on a snake and deliberately jumping into the shrub to avoid being bitten had been pretty weak.)
            An elegantly simple, slim-fitting black waistcoat only served to emphasize the long, lean lines of Norrington’s body. The only touch of color was the shirt James had chosen, its jungle green slightly darker than the deep jade of Jamie’s eyes. To Andrew, it was the color of lust; the shirt was the same dark shade James’s eyes turned when Andrew had his lips wrapped tight around his cock. It was the color Andrew saw every time James came with Andrew’s name on his lips. It was open invitingly at the neck and chest, the fine fabric damp with sweat and clinging to his pale skin. His beloved sword and several pistols hung at his hip, and though he couldn’t see it, Andrew knew there was a dagger hidden in Norrington’s boot. The silver chain James always wore hidden beneath his uniform glinted in the darkness, holding three of his four most precious treasures. Andrew was pleased to note that the fourth – the mate to the silver ring James had given him for Christmas as a symbol of their love and commitment – was currently where it belonged, on his lover’s left ring finger. The sight both warmed his heart and gave him hope; if James was wearing the ring openly, surely that meant they were going someplace where they would be alone.
            But the most shocking departure from uniform was James’s coat. Made of the supplest looking black leather Andrew had ever seen, it was tailored to fit James perfectly, stretching across his broad back and hugging his strong shoulders. If James’s favorite possessions were all a bit battered, then it was obvious this coat was well-loved. Much like James himself, the coat was scarred in places, but was no less beautiful for the flaws. If anything, they gave it character. Someone at some point (Mr. Yates, probably, Andrew told himself) had lovingly stitched up a small, straight tear in the back, the clean edges of the gouge suspiciously resembling a stab wound. Andrew shivered in spite of the heat, unsure if he wanted to know the story behind that one. Several jagged, less sinister tears at the elbow and along the hem had been fixed with similar care. The coat’s silver buttons were badly tarnished, speaking of age and long neglect. James wore the coat like an old friend, as thought it was indeed a long-forgotten but essential part of him, like a second skin that had protected him, tough and lasting through adventure, soft and comforting through pain and hardship. But try as he might, Andrew couldn’t remember ever seeing James wear it before. And he was certain that if James had ever turned up wearing that, he would’ve remembered it. Catching himself staring at the coat yet again, Andrew was forced to revise his earlier fantasy. He still wanted to bugger James with those boots on, but he could feel free to keep the coat on, too. And nothing else.
            Andrew was too busy daydreaming to notice that James had come to a sudden stop. He walked headlong into James’s back and sent them both tumbling to the ground. A loud “oof” sounded from beneath him when he landed on top of James, forcing all of the air from the man’s lungs.
            “Sorry,” Andrew mumbled apologetically, trying not to laugh. He took the chance to nuzzle his lover’s neck, breathing in the scents of clean sweat and old leather. A fresh bolt of arousal shot straight to his groin, causing Andrew to unconsciously roll his hips against James’s arse. He was dangerously close to revising his opinion of fucking on the forest floor. “Thanks for breaking my fall.”
            “You’re welcome,” James grunted, gasping for breath as he lay limply beneath Andrew’s weight. “Feel free to get off anytime now.”
            “Don’t tempt me, Jamie,” he growled in response. Andrew thrust harder against James’s backside and nipped at the soft skin behind his ear, drawing out a sweet moan from them both. He slid his hands up Norrington’s arms, pinning them to the ground. The leather was even softer than it looked. “Are we there yet? Are we even close to being there yet? Please tell me that we’re close to being there, and that wherever there is, it will have a bed.”
            “Since when do you need a bed, Drew?” James laughed, grinding back against his lover’s obvious erection, fanning the flames of his desire. He wiggled uncomfortably, trying to shift Andrew’s weight off his back, which was beginning to ache. “Seriously though, could you move? You’re crushing me, and there’s a twig poking me in a very uncomfortable and vital place.”
            “Sorry, love,” Andrew said with more sincerity as he scrambled to his feet. He reached down and offered James a hand up. Once James was on his feet and brushing himself off, Andrew tried again. “So….are we there yet?”
            James shook his head and chuckled. “Honestly Drew, you’re worse than a five-year old. No, we are not there yet. Close, but not quite. Think you can manage to contain yourself for another ten minutes, or are you planning on pouncing me again? I promise it’ll be worth the wait.” 
James leaned in for a tender kiss but Andrew turned his head at the last second and it landed on his cheek instead. “So you’re telling me that this surprise is worth being woken up at the arse-crack of dawn on a Sunday morning and dragged through the stinking jungle before I’ve even had sex or breakfast?”
“Don’t you trust me?” James asked, doing his best imitation of a kicked puppy.
“No.”
“You know, you really know how to kill the mood,” James sulked, turning his back on Andrew and continuing down the path again.
“What mood?!” Andrew yelped, chasing after him. “I’m tired, I’m dirty, and I’m wasting a perfectly good Sunday morning tromping through the jungle. The one morning when we don’t have to worry about getting to the Fort, the one morning when we have to time to be lazy and actually enjoy each other. Excuse me if I don’t find this particularly romantic, James. If you’d just tell me -”
“No,” was James’s only reply. He continued to walk on, not stopping or looking back to see if Andrew was following. His every step was silent and sure, as though he had walked the almost non-existent path a thousand times before. He resembled nothing as much as a large jungle cat, slinking regally through his kingdom. Andrew just shook his head and stumbled after him, afraid he had hurt Jamie’s feeling with his outburst. He called his name, trying to get Norrington’s attention, but he refused to stop.
“Goddammit! Jamie….wait up!” Andrew was panting for breath by the time he caught up with the man. The trees were starting the thin out, and James sped up, leaving Andrew behind yet again as the silver light of dawn began to creep through the canopy of branches and vines overhead. Andrew clutched at the stitch in his side, struggling to keep up with Jamie’s long legs.
“Stupid…long legged…whoreson….I hate you, you know that, right?!” Andrew shouted, trying to get a rise out of his infuriatingly silent lover. He hated when Jamie gave him the silent treatment.
James just smirked at him over his shoulder, never stumbling or breaking his stride. “No you don’t,” he said with smug confidence.
“I love you?” Andrew tried the opposite tack, desperation and uncertainty creeping into his voice. At the moment, he was having trouble remembering exactly why he loved James enough to blindly follow him on this pointless jaunt through the jungle.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” James finally came to a stop at the tree line, where he turned to face Andrew. Drew stopped in front of him, bent double with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “What day is today, Drew?”
Andrew blinked stupidly at the non sequitur and glanced up at the inscrutable look on James’s face. “It’s Sunday.”
“Yes, we’ve established that. I was hoping for something more specific.” James sighed, rubbing the sweat from his brow as he contemplated Andrew for a long moment. 
“I dunno – the day I finally give in to my baser urges and throttle you?” Andrew stared back blankly, still not understanding what James was getting at.  Finally, James just grabbed him by the shoulders and steered him through the last of the trees, until Andrew found himself standing at the edge of a beach, overlooking a truly stunning sunrise.
Waves of molten gold lapped at the white sand shore as the sun spilled over the horizon, making the water of the secluded cove before him glitter like the contents of a treasure chest.   Diamonds winked in the sapphire waves, dazzling eyes which had grown accustomed to the dark. A cool breeze tickled his cheeks until he smiled, the sea whispered her ancient secrets in his ears, and the salty spray that moistened Andrew’s lips tasted of freedom.  The sun painted the sky pastel; the soft pinks, lilacs, and corals soothed his watering brown eyes which were unable and unwilling to tear themselves away from the breathtaking sight. In the distance, a small boat was tied up at a ramshackle dock that dared to stretch out and touch the sea. Even it’s wet, graying planks glowed silver in the morning light. Andrew could feel James just behind him, the warm breath that ghosted over his nape a pleasant contrast to the cool wind that brushed the escaped tendrils of amber hair off of his face with a loving caress. Andrew took a deep breath and leaned back into James’s waiting arms, all thoughts of throttling him forgotten.
“Thank you.” Andrew’s voice was barely a whisper. He let his head fall back onto Jamie’s shoulder and felt his lover’s strong arms enfold him in warmth and unspoken love. “I’ve lived in Port Royal most of my life, but I’ve never seen this. It’s beautiful. Thank you for sharing this with me.”
James’s chin rested on Andrew’s right shoulder, and he could feel a wide smile curving against the shell of his ear. “Mmmm, isn’t it? And it’s all ours.”
“What?” Andrew finally managed to tear his gaze away from the boat bobbing serenely at the dock. She resembled a small sloop, single-masted with smooth, sleek lines that promised speed. Her spotless brass work glinted in the morning light, creating a shower of sparks over the dark, gleaming wood. Andrew turned in the circle of his lover’s arms and smiled bemusedly up at him. “Did you just say what I think you said?”
“Mmmhmm,” James murmured, pressing his lips to Andrew’s temple and breathing in the scent of his soft red hair. “Ours, all of it. Well, I suppose the sea isn’t really ours, but just for this afternoon it can be, if we want it to.”
Andrew pulled back and rested his hands on James’s chest, his fingers tracing the circumference of each tarnished silver button on the coat while he tried to wrap his mind around Jamie’s words. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m following…how can this all be ours?”
James cupped Andrew’s jaw with one large, elegant hand, letting his long fingers caress his lightly stubbled cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re confused.”
“You tend to have that effect,” Andrew breathed, closing his eyes as he leaned into the caress.
            He felt Norrington’s soft lips press against his forehead, coaxing away the frown line between his furrowed brows. “It’s really very simple. This is all ours. Well, technically speaking its mine, but what’s mine is yours. So by extension, it’s ours. This,” James explained, turning Andrew to look back up the steep, jungle covered cliff side they had trekked through and motioning expansively at the white sand beach beneath their feet, “all of this, is a part of my property. Has been since I bought the house, which is just up there.” Still seeing the confused look on Andrew’s face, James continued. “Drew, do you remember anything about the previous occupants of my home?”
            “Not really, no. The Fergusons, weren’t they? Kept to themselves if I remember…moderately wealthy but shied away from society functions. They left in quite a hurry, as I recall. One day they were there, the next they were gone. And you,” Andrew added, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at James, “swooped in and purchased the property. Got a good deal on it, too.”
            James gave him a sly smile as he linked their hands together and tugged Andrew towards the small dock. “The Fergusons were moderately wealthy because they were running a small whisky smuggling operation out of this bay. They weren’t doing anyone any harm, but it was highly illegal, nonetheless. Mr. Ferguson would likely have faced the gallows if he had been brought before a court. Which would’ve been a shame, he and his family were really quite nice. He had a very lovely daughter…Sarah. Pretty, if a bit naive. She’s the one who showed me this place. We slipped away from her chaperone for a picnic one afternoon. We were having a lovely time until it started raining. See that cave there?” James said, pointing back behind them to the base of the rocky outcrop. “There’s a passage that leads up through the cliffside and into my wine cellar. When it started pouring, she took me in there to wait it out, and when the storm didn’t let up, she showed me the secret passage so we could get back to the house before she got soaked through or anyone noticed she was missing. Of course, once I saw the cellar it was obvious what was going on. They’d unload the kegs at the dock, take them up the passage into the basement, where they’d water down the liquor and sell it to the local taverns for a pretty profit.”
Andrew pulled his hand from James’s and came to a sudden halt. His hands came to rest on his hips as he glared at his lover. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me that there’s a shortcut from the house to this beach, but you still dragged me through the bloody jungle?!” he yelped, the pitch of his voice rising dangerously.
“Well, yes,” said James sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and not meeting Andrew’s angry glare. “But it’s very….enclosed,” he finished lamely, rolling his shoulders in discomfort. “The passage is narrow and low, and the air is so musty that it’s hard to breath.” James took Andrew’s hand again with both of his own. “Sorry. We’ll go back that way later, if you like.”
Andrew sighed and pressed a forgiving kiss to James’s lips. Despite spending the majority of his adult life on a ship, James was horribly claustrophobic. Andrew figured it was a side effect of James being captured and kept in the brig of a pirate ship when he was just a boy. James needed fresh air, needed to know he always had an escape if he needed one. He hated enclosed spaces like Drew hated nature. Jamie could deal with it when he had to, but that didn’t mean he liked it. 
He took a moment to think over the story before looking back at James with raised eyebrows and a scowl. “Miss Ferguson must have been special for you to let her family go.” He knew he shouldn’t be feeling jealous over someone James hadn’t seen in years, but he couldn’t help it. Still, it was a fight to keep the tension out of his voice.
James just shrugged, oblivious to Andrew’s internal struggle as he looked down at their joined hands and caressed Andrew’s knuckles with his thumb. “Sarah was genuinely sweet. It was shortly after I’d made Post Captain, and there was nothing false or scheming about her, unlike most of the harridans that were being thrown my way. There was something peaceful about her that sort of wore off on me when I was around her. Like I said, not the brightest, but by no means vapid; she was curious about the world, loved learning new things. I liked her,” he said simply with another shrug. “I liked her enough that I didn’t want to see her family destroyed or her prospects ruined by scandal. But I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing with the information I’d learned, either. They were just trying to survive, really. Their plantation was failing, losing money faster than they could put more into it. Their operation was small and wasn’t really hurting anyone. But I couldn’t let it continue. So I came to a compromise with Mr. Ferguson. He and his family would leave Port Royal and the waters I patrolled, and in exchange I bought the property at a fair price, which gave them enough capital for a fresh start elsewhere. He kept his family and his honor, and I kept my silence and the cache of scotch in the cellar,” said James with a wry, melancholy smile. “A win-win situation for everyone.”
“If you liked her….I mean, you obviously cared about Miss Ferguson. Did you consider asking for her hand in marriage?” Andrew asked, not sure if he really wanted the answer to his question. While Andrew had never had any interest in women, he knew that James had. He knew James had entertained thoughts of having a wife and family of his own someday, and that knowledge always made Andrew feel insecure. No matter how sincerely James swore that Andrew was his family and that he wanted for nothing, Gillette always felt a bit guilty that he could never give Jamie everything he had once dreamed of.
“I considered it,” James answered honestly, giving Drew’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “But again, I genuinely liked Sarah. That’s why I let her go.” Andrew gave James another long, piercing look, and he blushed and looked away. “Don’t look at me like that, Drew. I couldn’t have dealt with it, especially back then. I was too broken to be a good husband. I wasn’t even capable of being a very good friend to you and Teddy. I know it, and you know it, so don’t argue,” he said before Andrew could open his mouth to do just that. “I couldn’t give her everything she needed, or the love and stability she deserved. She was young and ready to fall in love, and I wasn’t sure if I would ever be ready to let myself love again.” James stopped at the dock and pulled Andrew into his arms, holding him close. “You changed that. You changed me.”
“For the better, I hope?” Andrew rested his head on James’s shoulder, nuzzling the crook of his neck. “It was good, doing what you did for the Fergusons. Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad that you didn’t marry her.”
James laughed, combing his fingers through the thick strands that had fallen free of the ribbon that bound Andrew’s hair. The silver ring glinted on his finger as he reached to caress its twin where it hung from its chain, nestled in the hollow of Andrew’s throat. “So am I, Drew. I much prefer being unlawfully wedded to you.”
Andrew’s head snapped up and he stared at James with dawning, wild-eyed realization. “Shit!” he yelped, backing away and coming precariously close to the edge of the dock.
James’s choked on his laughter as he reached out to pull Drew back to safety. “I take it you finally remembered what day it is?”
Merde,” Andrew repeated softly, staring down at his scuffed, muddy brown boots to avoid looking James in the eye. James knew he must be upset if he was slipping into French. “Oh god, I forgot.”
“That’s alright, I remembered for the both of us,” James smiled, trying to lift Andrew’s chin so he could see for himself that he really wasn’t upset.
Andrew still avoided Norrington’s gaze, looking anywhere but at his lover. “No, it’s not alright! I forgot our anniversary, James! And I’ve been horrible to you all morning! You bring me here, to this beautiful place, and I’ve done nothing but whine. And I’ve got nothing to give you.”
James gently shook Andrew’s shoulders and grabbed his face between his hands, cupping freckled cheeks between loving palms. “Look at me. You’ve loved me even when I’ve made it difficult. Hell, you’ve loved me when I made it damn near impossible. You freely gave me your heart even when I had done nothing to earn your trust. You’ve given me something to believe in. You’ve given me your patience, and your understanding, and your friendship. You’ve given me life, Drew. So, you forgot a date. You can remember it next year. But right now, it’s my turn. Let me give you one perfect day.”
Soft kisses chased away the tears Andrew didn’t even realize had fallen. “I’d rather have a long lifetime of imperfect days with you than just one perfect one.”
“Who says we can’t have both?” James smiled as he pulled Andrew into a passionate kiss, pouring all of the things he could never put into words into it. One hand cradled the back of Andrew’s neck while the other curled around his waist, stroking the curve of his hip. He grinned against his lover’s lips when Andrew responded, winding his arms around James’s back like he would never let go, like he would fall into the ocean and drown if he even considered it. James just held him tighter, silently assuring Andrew with every brush of lips and tongue that he would never let that happen.
They finally parted, both breathless and dizzy, panting wordlessly against each other’s kiss swollen lips. James rested his forehead against Andrew’s and looked deep into his kind, chocolate brown eyes. They were sparkling with love and laughter, and to James nothing – not even the glorious sunrise – could be more beautiful.
It was Andrew who finally broke the silence. “So….Commodore James Norrington, Scourge of Piracy, is the proud owner of a smuggler’s cove? There’s got to be something in the Articles disallowing that.”
James laughed as he left a trail of kisses along Andrew’s stubbled jaw. “Because I always follow the Articles to the letter,” he murmured, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Good point,” Andrew moaned, sliding his hands beneath Jamie’s coat. “So, when you said this was all ours….”
Jamie’s grin was as brilliant and boyish as Andrew had ever seen it. “I meant exactly that. I’ve always considered this place to be mine. This cove isn’t marked on any of our existing charts, and I’ve never bothered to correct them. No one ever comes here because the only accessible path starts in my back garden. It’s the one place where I’ve always been able to find peace. The one safe, untouchable place that was just mine, where I could be alone with my thoughts. But I don’t want to be alone, anymore. I want share this place with you. I know I have a lot of secrets, but this one is ours now. Not mine, ours.”
            Andrew was speechless, unable to express how grateful he was that Jamie would share something so precious with him. He captured James’s lips in a soft kiss that was no less passionate for its sweetness. “And the boat?” he asked, a note of hope creeping into his voice.
            “I designed her and had her commissioned. My anniversary present to us both.” James took Andrew’s hand again and tugged him to the end of the dock, where the beautiful yacht bobbed on the gentle waves. As soon as they had boarded, James had Andrew pressed back against the single mast, groaning as Andrew nipped at his lips, demanding entry. “Freedom,” James whispered, tasting the salt of the sea spray on Andrew’s lips. “The smuggler’s cove might give us privacy, but this is freedom. No paperwork, no prying eyes, and no social responsibilities.”
            “This is your design?” Andrew asked, running loving fingers over the dark, glossy woodwork, awe and pride shining in his eyes as he watched James blush. “She’s gorgeous. And she’s really ours? We don’t have to return her? She won’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight? What’s her name?”
            “Actually, today she’s yours. Wherever you want to go. We don’t have to be back at the Fort until Wednesday. The Phoenix is yours, Captain Gillette,” James said with a quick kiss and a small salute.
            “The Phoenix.” Andrew tested the name, enjoying the way it rolled perfectly off his tongue.   “It suits her.” He looked at James, thinking about how much he had changed – how much they had both changed for the better – over the last year. James loved mythology, and he really couldn’t have picked a more symbolic name. Their love had survived the flames and risen triumphantly from the ashes. And now they had a whole new life together ahead of them. James reached to unclasp the chain around Andrew's neck and slipped the silver ring onto his finger where it belonged. Andrew smiled; James was right; here, they were free.
            Andrew linked their hands together, threading his broad, blunt fingers through James’s long, elegant ones. “Wherever I want, you say?”
            “You’re the captain,” James answered with a mischievous smirk. He rolled his hips against Andrew’s, eliciting a deep, wanton moan. “Today, I’m just Jamie, the innocent cabin boy.”
            Andrew snorted and quickly reversed their positions, slamming James back against the mast and stealing a fierce, demanding kiss. “Innocent my arse. And Teddy’s a virgin.”  A lascivious grin curved Andrew’s lips as he reached down and cupped the obvious bulge in Jamie’s deliciously snug breeches. “I’ll tell you what Mr. Norrington, how about I promote you to first mate, and you help me christen the Phoenix properly? Then we’ll decide on a destination.”
            James licked his lips predatorily as he pounced, pulling Andrew down to the gleaming deck and landing on top of his lover with a growl. “Sounds good to me, Captain.” Jamie’s lips were at his throat again, nipping and sucking at the hollow until it was well and truly marked, and his hands were everywhere, first pulling at Andrew’s clothes before tearing desperately at his own. James was just starting to shrug out of his coat, but stopped when Andrew laid a hand on his shoulder.
            “Leave it on, Jamie. That’s an order,” he panted, writhing beneath the feel of sweat-slick skin and supple leather brushing against his naked body. “The boots too.”
            James just raised a knowing eyebrow that eloquently managed to say more than a thousand words ever could. “Aye, aye, sir!” he purred. 
            Drew closed his eyes as Jamie trailed kisses down his bare chest, basking in the warmth of the sun and James’s love. Jamie was right (as he usually was.) All things green and leafy be damned, he would trek through a thousand miles of jungle just for this. Today really was shaping up to be perfect.
  • Yummy! Wonderful! All the metaphors were fantastic! I liked especially that you didn't have James pamper Drew on the path...he waited for him each time but he let Drew make his own way even though it was much harder for him. That was realistic and yet so many writers would fall into the trap of having Jamie hold back branches and carry him over the roots, yuck! Your pairing is so hot and works so incredibly well.
    I vote for a continuation please...pretty pretty please, with leather on top...or rather, on bottom.

    Arwen
    • Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed the character interactions, especially the scenes on the path. While I do think that Jamie and Drew are romantic to an extent, they're both fiercely proud, independent men, and neither of them appreciate being coddled. If Jamie tried to carry Drew over the roots, Drew would probably smack him upside the head and demand that he be put down that very instant, lol. I try to keep them sweet, without crossing that thin line into the dark and dangerous territory of sappiness.

      Thanks again for commenting! I've a few ideas in mind for the follow up. ;)
  • aw yay, i'm so glad you're back. :)

    and as per usual, this was amazing!
    • Thanks! :) I'm glad to be back. I've been having an impossible time writing lately, so it feels good to actually finish something for a change.

      Glad you enjoyed it! If I can wrangle the muses into cooperation, I may continue this one.
      • oh, please do. tell the muses i batted my eyelashes and asked nicely, because i have got to read some more about this boot-sex.

        (i have something of a boot fetish myself. :X)
        • I think that can be arranged. ;)

          (And ditto on the boot fetish. With me writing, James in boots and leather was bound to happen eventually.)
  • Oh that was very, very good! I love it when Drew is annoyed and Jamie is smug and hot porn is had by all. ;) I need to write something, but I don't have any plotbunnies. Maybe I'll think of one on the train to Liverpool tomorrow.
    • Thanks! :) The boys decided playful was the way to go with this one. After all, bickering is apparently what my muses do best. Pity I didn't actually get around to write the hot porn part though, lol. Oh well, maybe next time.
      • Well hot porn was implied, which is a start. ;)

        I just can't write. Not a thing, no inspiration at all. I will reply to your comment on hot cannons sometime Sunday. That at least I can do. I just can't write much else.
        • I may have too much hot porn to squeeze into the next part. Two navyboys on a boat, with their own private beach. The possibilities are limitless. Though I do think I have a lovely image to rival the one of Jamie in leather. ;)

          We'll just have to find a way to inspire you, then. Hopefully a bunny will bite you soon. :)
  • (Anonymous)
    James' private beach and secret cove huh? Nice. It was funny when Andrew was having hard time making his way through the jungle and complaining while he was at it. So James also liked another girl named Sarah besides Elizabeth eh? That's interesting. By the way how many languages can they speak? And it always seem fall on Theodore. I wanted to learn Japanese and French and I wouldn't mind to learn German too. I took french class during high school but I didn't learn a thing from the teacher. I don't think anyone in class did learn anything either. Anyway this one sounded nice. Another nice, quiet little place for the two of them.

    I'll be rooting for you mate ^_^
    • Thanks for commenting! :)

      Andrew is the only one of my boys who is really gifted with languages. He can speak about five languages fluently (French and Spanish being the most useful), and knows bits and pieces of others (mostly the really naughty phrases, lol). Teddy knows enough French and Spanish to get by in a pinch. And Jamie, bless him, is hopeless at learning new languages.

      I took Spanish in high school, and I didn't learn much of anything either. Our teacher didn't really teach us anything, she was more concerned with making sure we all passed so she would look good. She actually gave us the exact answers before every test!

      I'm glad you enjoyed it! :)
  • Okay so yes, description of James all leathered out um...how can I find words to express exactly how sparkley and beautiful and fucking smokin that is? No. All right well no use beating a dead horse. Loved every second of it deary! Entries from you are always an excitement. And Drew I'm with you sweetness, morning and nature are not nice things without the Dread Pirate Norrington as a view.
    • *g* I got distracted just writing those descriptions. James + black leather = smoking hot. I've been looking for an excuse to write something like this for ages. :) I wish I was a better artist, because I NEED a picture of the Dread Pirate Norrington!

      I'm glad you liked their latest adventure. :) I'm with Drew too....mornings and nature are bad enough separate, but together? *shudder*
  • Damn it, why do you always post your stories up on a day that I miss? xPPP

    Not that it makes much difference, but still...

    Loved it. Adored it. Died over it.

    Spotted a typo and a confusing sentence, too. At one point (halfway through? Iunno...) you say "another" when it should likely be "other". And that sentence in one of the last paragraphs about the ring and the chain is confusing.. is it Andrew's chain & ring, or Jamie's? I think I know whose it's supposed to be but anyway...

    "carnivorous, man-eating shrubbery". Why does the word shrubbery always make me think of Monty Python? xDDD Loved it. Loved how Andrew hates 'all things green and leafy', and that James is claustrophobic. *hearts*

    Oh, and I did mention that the boots and the coat are just.... well... I agree with Drew. ;D
    • Yeah, I knew that sentence was awkward when I posted, but I was too sleepy to figure out how to fix it. I've changed it now though. :)

      Shrubbery is just a comical word, for some reason. Someone asked me once why I hated the countryside, and told them it was because I was allergic to all things green and leafy. :) I just love that phrase, so I had to use it. And it just seemed natural that James would be claustrophobic.

      This was really just one big excuse to write James in leather. :) I figure Jamie has a mysterious past, so it's not too hard imagining him having something like that hidden at the back of his wardrobe.

      I'm glad you liked it. I got stuck on that battle!fic I emailed you awhile back, so I'm just happy I managed to finally finish something.
      • *quotes self upon seeing new banner* "Ooh. That. Is nice." xP Like it a lot!

        Aha, grand. ^^

        Mmm... the interesting thing, though, is to wonder if they had the term back then. It does have Greek roots, but they are so un-perverted (the roots, that is) that it makes one suspect it of being a modern creation... *rambles meaninglessly* But all things green and leafy IS an excellent phrase!

        *snorfle* Of course. I should have guessed. ;D Can't say I blame you! I must say that I'd never actually connected life=backstory=superfluous and random clothing. It makes sense, though...

        Oh did you? Pity that. Hope you come unstuck soon! ^.^
        • Thanks, it's been up for awhile now. I made it around the same time I made Mrs. N's banner. :)

          I have so much of Jamie's backstory in my head, that sometimes I forget that I haven't actually written most of it yet. So while it makes perfect sense to me that he has a badass black leather coat in his closet, it probably appears random to everyone else.

          I haven't gotten unstuck on the battle!fic yet, but I have made some nice progress on the wedding!fic I posted the first part to awhile back.
          • Guess that just tells me how long its been since I bothered logging on... o.O Or paying attention.

            Aha!! That's pretty sweet. ^^ The fact that you can just stick with all this backstory is quite impressive. As soon as I know an entire backstory... I get bored and make up something new. xPP

            Wedding!fic, wedding!fic... *mutters to self* Have I read that bit?
  • Mmmmm.....very nice!

    I like "settled" pairing stories, which this obviously is. We get far too few of them lately.

    I see you're already on [info]raise_the_dead so I won't suggest you join. But would you please post a link there? I suspect a lot of the people there would enjoy it as much as I did. :)
    • Thanks, glad you enjoyed it! :)

      I like writing them as a settled couple. All of my stories are pretty much in the same 'verse. I should probably write outside it more often, because I know it can be hard to keep up with, but I enjoy the dynamics of the relationship I've already established too much. There's history between James, Andrew, and Teddy, and I that's what interests me as a writer.

      I'd be happy to post the link there. :) I've been thinking of making a master list of all of my fic, and once I'm done I might post the link to that as well, if that would be alright? Everything I've written is either pre-CotBP or post-CotBP AU.
      • I can't recall any reason you couldn't post the link there; it sounds like all the stories fit the comm's criteria.
  • A very lovely story ! Love your take of the characters and their relationship as well as your writing style. Thank you for posting it. :)
    • Thank you! This one was fun to write - I love building on their relationship with each new story and discovering all of their little quirks. I'm glad the writing itself wasn't too awful, either...I hadn't managed to write anything in almost two months, so I felt it was a bit rusty. :)
  • That was absolutly lovely. :-) I do so like the take you have on Norrington. It is very refreshing to read them now and then.

    Also, your right about Will's coat in that movie. It is pure porn, I tell you!
    • Thanks for commenting! I'm glad you enjoyed the story. :)

      Will's coat is highly inspirational, isn't it? ;) I love that coat. Perfect icon, btw.
  • Beautiful! That was so sweet, funny, and quite hot. XD

    And wow, James dressed like that...or not quite fully dressed with the leather boots and coat... *purrs*

    This was wonderfully written and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it! I love sweet (but hot) Gillington stories. Great work! :D
    • Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it! I love writing Gillington because it's fun to balance the sweetness with their snark. :)

      I'd had the image of James in a leather coat and boots since DMC. Instead of paying attention to the movie, I sat there pondering how James would look in a coat like Will's. That thought definately stuck with me! :)
      • I really can't believe that I never thought of James in that sort of coat before...but now I have. :)

        Incidentally, reading this story helped my muse return to me! Thank you! :D
        • I'm happy that the story helped inspire you. :) I've read several of the ones you've posted, and I'm interested to see where they're going. Especially the Gillington/Sparrington one. Usually in this fandom, people are usually either/or with those pairings, so it's nice to see someone else who enjoys them both. :) I've been meaning to work a bit of Sparrington in my fic 'verse for a long time, but I always lose confidence when it comes to writing Jack.
          • I'm glad that you are enjoying my stories! (assuming that you're looking at my Webjam, I've recently made a way for non-Webjam users to comment, if you'd like to). The Gillington/Sparrington is a fun story to write - and it's even more challenging than just one pairing, lol. But I like challenging myself in writing. :)

            Jack is a difficult character to write. I used to avoid writing him if I could and just have him in the background, but the more I write him, the more confident I feel about it.
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