Jack doesn't even try to withhold the small, almost mewling noises that escape his throat when Norrington won't kiss him back the way he now wants. Teases him instead just as Jack just teased him. But that's what he likes about the Commodore, for all his Commodore-ial fenangling. He gives as good as he gets. Matches Jack play for play. And Jack enjoys that. Oh how very much he enjoys it.
What he does not so much enjoy is pain. Which is currently making itself known when Norrington twists the grip on his wrist just-so. Jack hums a strangled groan, somewhere between a laugh and a wince. Tilts his mouth away from Norrington's to follow the Commodore's gaze down to where he holds Jack's wrist. Sees the white then red bands covering his skin, just over the pirate brand, when Norrington moves his fingers. It will leave a mark, Jack is sure, and the heat in his stomach floods downwards at such a thought. Releases a gutteral moan.
Apparently he rather likes the idea of Norrington marking him in some way. Jack decides not to pursue the train of thought as to why that is, not when he has other, more pressing interests concerning him.
Such as Norrington yanking him closer. Jack inches his head up again, feeling Norrington's words against his lips and smiling into them. With his free hand, the other half-heartedly attempting to wiggle free from Norrington's grasp, Jack gives into his desire to feel the silkiness of those chocolate brown locks running through his fingers and tangles his hand into Norrington's hair. Brushes it back away from his face and begins to massage the back of his scalp with his be-ringed fingers.
"Such language from a Commodore," Jack teases. Places a chaste kiss to the corner of Norrington's mouth. Looks up to find Norrington's eyes, his own eyes dark and longing. Then continues, "All you had to do was ask, love." Jack's tone is laced with playfulness and he cuts off whatever reply Norrington might have tried to form by pressing their lips together. Hard. He moulds his lips to Norrington's, slips out his tongue to trace his lower lip and tries to coax Norrington to deepen the kiss.
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What he does not so much enjoy is pain. Which is currently making itself known when Norrington twists the grip on his wrist just-so. Jack hums a strangled groan, somewhere between a laugh and a wince. Tilts his mouth away from Norrington's to follow the Commodore's gaze down to where he holds Jack's wrist. Sees the white then red bands covering his skin, just over the pirate brand, when Norrington moves his fingers. It will leave a mark, Jack is sure, and the heat in his stomach floods downwards at such a thought. Releases a gutteral moan.
Apparently he rather likes the idea of Norrington marking him in some way. Jack decides not to pursue the train of thought as to why that is, not when he has other, more pressing interests concerning him.
Such as Norrington yanking him closer. Jack inches his head up again, feeling Norrington's words against his lips and smiling into them. With his free hand, the other half-heartedly attempting to wiggle free from Norrington's grasp, Jack gives into his desire to feel the silkiness of those chocolate brown locks running through his fingers and tangles his hand into Norrington's hair. Brushes it back away from his face and begins to massage the back of his scalp with his be-ringed fingers.
"Such language from a Commodore," Jack teases. Places a chaste kiss to the corner of Norrington's mouth. Looks up to find Norrington's eyes, his own eyes dark and longing. Then continues, "All you had to do was ask, love." Jack's tone is laced with playfulness and he cuts off whatever reply Norrington might have tried to form by pressing their lips together. Hard. He moulds his lips to Norrington's, slips out his tongue to trace his lower lip and tries to coax Norrington to deepen the kiss.