What started out as a kiss meant to be sly, teasing has suddenly become passionate. A groan escapes Jack as Norrington pushes into him, entirely without his command. His hand tightens in Norrington's hair as he is forced to take a few steps backwards, humming around the fierce contact the entire time. He wants more of it, more of Norrington's mouth beneath his, and immediately deepens the kiss, stroking his tongue along the other's, kneeding their lips together as he pushes back with the same amount of energy.

Good, good, so good. The words rattle through Jack's brain. Just the hot, wet heat of Norrington's mouth and the softness of his lips and the silkiness of his hair between Jack's fingers as he pets down the slope of Norrington's skull, squeezing the back of his neck and brushing his thumb behind his ear. Suddenly he feels his back hit the wall and he doesn't know how they managed to cross the room but it's good. This passion residing his his Commodore. Jack tilts his head and sweeps his tongue along the edge of Norrington's and hums deep in his throat again. Thinks James.

But no. No. Wait. What? James? Norrington was meant to break, not Jack. Not Jack at all. He isn't meant to be beat at his own game, not when he just proverbially won it.

With a start, Jack pulls away, gasping for breath. His wrist is still clutched in Norrington's hand and he looks down at it, mystified. Caught me after all, Jack thinks, and suddenly the urge to run away is greater than the urge to keep taunting. He doesn't look up at Norrington as he gulps down all the air he can.