His eyes are fixed to the orange segment as Sparrow swipes it along his lips, coy as a prostitute with her lipstick, and he swallows in synch with the pirate as his Adam’s apple bobs enticingly under the curve of his neck and throat. He is struck by a sudden longing to taste that golden flesh, to bite with sharp teeth, to claim. Inside his mouth, his tongue moves slightly of its own accord, as if to trace the line of that neck down into the gaping V of the collar.
When Sparrow holds out the last segment of orange, one brow raised in a clear invitation, and murmurs a question about how precisely he should go about persuading him, uncertainty for a moment battles with desire in James’s gut. Damn the pirate. He had intentionally leaned back there, signalled him to make the first move. Why? Quite honestly, he did not know how to, not with Jack Sparrow, and furthermore there was a small part of him which would feel much less guilty were Sparrow the one to, ah, finish the teasing, as it were.
But James can still ensure that. Oh, yes he can. So he leans forward, eyes dark on Sparrow, but does not take the orange segment in his mouth, as the pirate so clearly wishes. Instead, he slowly reaches out a hand, drawing one finger over the back of Sparrow’s hand before taking the orange segment and sliding it into his mouth, biting down, feeling the sweet burst of juice. He smirks, tongue flicking out to retrieve a droplet of juice from the corner of his lips.
‘Well, Sparrow,’ he drawls, ‘or I should call you Captain, I could not say how you should deign to go about persuading me. Surely a man as admittedly persuasive as yourself should be able to come up with something… creative. Though I might add,’ an eyebrow rises fractionally, ‘That you might still get a taste of this orange if you hasten. If that gives you any ideas.’
It’s even less subtle than Sparrow’s nonsense with the banana earlier, but at this point he doesn’t really feel up for subtlety, and the burn of Sparrow’s eyes as he regards him is more than enough to make him act completely mad.
no subject
When Sparrow holds out the last segment of orange, one brow raised in a clear invitation, and murmurs a question about how precisely he should go about persuading him, uncertainty for a moment battles with desire in James’s gut. Damn the pirate. He had intentionally leaned back there, signalled him to make the first move. Why? Quite honestly, he did not know how to, not with Jack Sparrow, and furthermore there was a small part of him which would feel much less guilty were Sparrow the one to, ah, finish the teasing, as it were.
But James can still ensure that. Oh, yes he can. So he leans forward, eyes dark on Sparrow, but does not take the orange segment in his mouth, as the pirate so clearly wishes. Instead, he slowly reaches out a hand, drawing one finger over the back of Sparrow’s hand before taking the orange segment and sliding it into his mouth, biting down, feeling the sweet burst of juice. He smirks, tongue flicking out to retrieve a droplet of juice from the corner of his lips.
‘Well, Sparrow,’ he drawls, ‘or I should call you Captain, I could not say how you should deign to go about persuading me. Surely a man as admittedly persuasive as yourself should be able to come up with something… creative. Though I might add,’ an eyebrow rises fractionally, ‘That you might still get a taste of this orange if you hasten. If that gives you any ideas.’
It’s even less subtle than Sparrow’s nonsense with the banana earlier, but at this point he doesn’t really feel up for subtlety, and the burn of Sparrow’s eyes as he regards him is more than enough to make him act completely mad.