James accepts the shirt without question when Sparrow shoves it up his chest, clutching it to himself with the hand not touching the man before him. Anything, anything to keep him going. He can feel the muscles in his stomach twitch convulsively as Sparrow limns a path around his navel with his tongue, and his prick strains against the confines of his trousers. Finally he can stand it no longer, and a shuddering moan trips from his lips out into the humid, tropical air.

It is then that he notices that Sparrow is no longer touching him, is instead leaning back and regarding James with mild curiosity. He exhales a noise which is nothing but sheer frustration, barely restraining himself from pulling Sparrow's hair.

'If you stop, so help me, I will-'

But he can't continue. He has nothing to threaten, and he is so frantic with arousal that surely anything he did say would sound utterly idiotic. Please, he nearly says, Please just bloody get on with it, you insane pirate, but he restrains himself.