It is all Jack can do to keep his mouth from dropping open and lounging there, slackjawed, at the way Norrington is meeting him play for play in this little game. He focuses very hard on keeping hisself from becoming to occupied and then...
Oh, the lip-bitting. And that purr. Jack feels the flame in his veins surge forth, spiking a note higher amoungst the the swirling thoughts of desire, and rushing through him in a heated course. Intoxicating the same as alcohol.
"I would like for you to call me Captain," he answers hungrily, absently.
Suddenly he feels Norrington's fingers tracing lightly over the cover of his boot. So delicate, his touch, yet Jack knows those hands can be strong, powerful. Dangerous. Can set traps for him just as easily as pet him. And is that what this is? A trap?
Along with the quelling urge to reach out and touch the Commodore in return, there is a wariness that abounds. Is Norrington playing a bit too well because he knows he can use this as a way to best Jack? Beat him at his own game? Take the upper hand? A milieu of deicious images flutters through Jack's brain at just what an 'upper hand' Norrington might take... But no! No. Stay on track. Up the stakes and see if Norrington follows.
After all, even if the Commodore is trying to lure him into some sort of compromising position, Jack can bend him into similar positions in return. And why shouldn't he? It is a game he started.
Jack smiles again, lowering his tone to match Norrington's, "Sounds as if you'd like me to persuade you, mate. Sure you can remember how persuasive I can be." He rubs the back of his knee against Norrington's thigh again, nudging just a bit higher, then leans forward in his chair, placing his face directly in front of Norrington's. "Because I remember being very... very... close to persuading you last time."
Deftly he plucks the orange out of Norrington's grasp and pops a piece into his own mouth, sucking the remaining juice off his fingers as he leans back in his chair.
no subject
Oh, the lip-bitting. And that purr. Jack feels the flame in his veins surge forth, spiking a note higher amoungst the the swirling thoughts of desire, and rushing through him in a heated course. Intoxicating the same as alcohol.
"I would like for you to call me Captain," he answers hungrily, absently.
Suddenly he feels Norrington's fingers tracing lightly over the cover of his boot. So delicate, his touch, yet Jack knows those hands can be strong, powerful. Dangerous. Can set traps for him just as easily as pet him. And is that what this is? A trap?
Along with the quelling urge to reach out and touch the Commodore in return, there is a wariness that abounds. Is Norrington playing a bit too well because he knows he can use this as a way to best Jack? Beat him at his own game? Take the upper hand? A milieu of deicious images flutters through Jack's brain at just what an 'upper hand' Norrington might take... But no! No. Stay on track. Up the stakes and see if Norrington follows.
After all, even if the Commodore is trying to lure him into some sort of compromising position, Jack can bend him into similar positions in return. And why shouldn't he? It is a game he started.
Jack smiles again, lowering his tone to match Norrington's, "Sounds as if you'd like me to persuade you, mate. Sure you can remember how persuasive I can be." He rubs the back of his knee against Norrington's thigh again, nudging just a bit higher, then leans forward in his chair, placing his face directly in front of Norrington's. "Because I remember being very... very... close to persuading you last time."
Deftly he plucks the orange out of Norrington's grasp and pops a piece into his own mouth, sucking the remaining juice off his fingers as he leans back in his chair.