Jack is so deliciously certain that Norrington is close to breaking. So close to reacting to him and quitting that reserved facet of a front he wears. And he wants to see it, experience it. Just what does a Commodore do when pressed to his limit. He is almost prepared to touch his face for real this time when suddenly Jack finds out just what a Commodore does.

He stumbles back from the force of Norrington standing. It has nothing to do with surprise. Absolutely nothing. The chair behind him topples over and Jack staggers, swaggers, a few steps backwards, one hand dancing out to counter his balance and the other nearly reaching for Norrington to steady hisself. Fingers brushing the starched fabric of Norrington's collar as Norrington moves towards him. Almost like a prowl. Almost feral. Tucking a pretty strand of hair behind his ear. The heat in his blood surges forth at the expression on Norrington's face as he grabs his wrist.

Just pure, pure lust. And passion. Jack almost shivers in anticipation, feeling Norrington's words brush against his lips. And then followed by Norrington's own mouth.

Jack smiles into the kiss, sliding his mouth across Norrington's, more of a caress than an actual kiss. The hand not held by Norrington he raises to rest against his neck, cradling the underside of his jaw, running fingers to trace the strong line down to his chin as he moulds their mouths together playfully. Doesn't yet try to deepen the kiss. Tease between light feather touches and firm pressure. He slides his hand over Norrington's chin as he pulls away fractionally, replacing his mouth with his fingers, two gliding over his bottom lip for a moment.

"It's Jack," he says, "or Captain." He flicks his eyes up to meet Norrington's, smiling at the look that meets his, and adds in almost a growl, "Commodore."

Then in a quick motion he presses his mouth back to Norrington's, reintiating the kiss, his hand moving to curl around his ear, brushing his fingertips against the soft hair that is tucked there.