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Entry tags:
OFMD FICLET: jealousy
jealousy
Izzy/Jack | adult | ~900 words
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thesoulundone, who gave me a song prompt: Déjà Vu—Something for Kate. Originally posted here.
--
Jack drains his rum and slams the tankard on the bar. He snarls under his breath as he waits for the barkeep to come over and glances at Izzy and Ed. They're right where he left them—Izzy leaning against Ed's shoulder, Ed's arm hanging off the back of Izzy's chair. They've got their heads together like they're in on some kind of big secret.
Ed's calling himself Blackbeard these days. At least, that's what Jack's heard. He hadn't figured on running into him tonight—not this far south, at any rate.
The barkeep sneers at Jack—this'll be his fourth—but he slops more rum into the tankard. The tavern noise lulls as Jack brings it to his mouth.
"…could still come sail with me…"
"…Ed, that's…"
"…just a thought, mate. If you…"
Anger flares in Jack's gut; he glances over again. Ed's never bothered touching Izzy before, and now the bastard's got his hand on the back of Izzy's neck. The look on Izzy's face is—fuck. Jack turns back around. He heads to the back door and walks outside, where he won't have to watch Ed take Izzy upstairs.
He's not stupid, despite what people like to think. He knows he was Izzy's second choice. He knows that Izzy only left Hornigold's ship with him because Ed didn't love him—because settling seemed better than sailing with Ed but never getting what he wanted. But he'd thought… he'd hoped—
"Jack?" Izzy asks. Tavern noise rushes outside as door swings shut behind him. "What are you doing out here?"
"Could ask you the same thing."
"Ed was asking about you."
"I'll just bet," Jack grunts. Izzy's collar looks a bit loose—like Ed touched his throat, or maybe kissed it. The thought of someone else's hands on Izzy sends him into such a rage that he slams his empty tankard against the wall. "Fuck."
"Jack? What are—oh." Izzy scoffs. "You're drunk."
Jack gets his hand on Izzy's throat and backs him into the wall. He digs his thumb in as he asks, "You come out here to say goodbye before you shove off with Eddie?"
"You dumb fuck," Izzy snaps, face flushing. He squirms against the wall and jabs his knuckles into Jack's side. "Do you actually think I'd leave you?"
Jack says, "I think," and uses his other hand to paw at the front of Izzy's pants. "I think you're wet just from him whispering in your ear." He yanks Izzy's pants open and gets his hand on Izzy's cunt, teasing his fingers over Izzy's hole, right where he's warm and slick. "He doesn't want you. He just doesn't want anyone else having you."
Izzy snarls at that, lips curling like he's about to spit in Jack's face, but then Jack drags his fingers up and slides them along either side of Izzy's cock. Izzy makes a choked noise and rolls his hips, pushing into Jack's hand. He clutches at Jack's vest and hisses Jack's name.
"Yeah, me," Jack mutters. "Mine." He strokes Izzy's cock a few more times, then dips his fingers back down and pushes them inside—one, two. "You're mine, Hands. If Eddie tries to take you from me—"
"He's not," Izzy insists, shaking his head. His cunt is fucking soaked. "He doesn't—"
"I'll kill him." Jack works a third finger in and rubs his thumb over Izzy's cock. "He comes anywhere near this cunt and I'll gut him like a fucking pig."
"Don't," Izzy says, but he's trembling now, breathing high and hard, showing teeth. "You—"
"Should fuck you like this," Jack says, rocking his fingers deeper. "Should pin you on my cock right here, so anyone who comes outside will know who you belong to."
Izzy whines and tips his head back. His throat flexes under Jack's hand.
"Should get Eddie out here, yeah? Let him see you dripping all over me." That hooks another noise out of Izzy's throat. Jack rubs and rubs at Izzy's cock and fucks his fingers in and in and in. He says, "Yeah, c'mon," with his mouth against Izzy's temple. "Come for me, sweetheart. Come right on my hand."
Izzy gasps into it, shaking, his eyes fluttering closed and his mouth dropping open as his cunt squeezes around Jack's fingers. His knees wobble, and he sags against Jack's chest. He digs his nails into Jack's arms and sucks in huge lungfuls of the humid, night air.
When he can breathe again, he rears back and slaps Jack across the face.
"That's for thinking I'd leave you."
"Sorry," Jack mutters, "I just… thinking about you with someone else makes me crazy."
"Fancy talk from a guy who won't commit."
That—fuck. It's been four years since the mutiny: four years of them sailing together and sharing a cabin, sharing a life. But Jack hasn't brought matelotage up because he assumed Izzy would say no, that he wouldn't want to splice himself to a guy who drinks too much and has so much pain left over from the fire that he can't get out of bed some days.
"Would you want that? If I…"
Izzy almost smiles. "Ask me again when you're sober. And when you're not in a strop about fucking Ed."
Izzy/Jack | adult | ~900 words
For
--
Jack drains his rum and slams the tankard on the bar. He snarls under his breath as he waits for the barkeep to come over and glances at Izzy and Ed. They're right where he left them—Izzy leaning against Ed's shoulder, Ed's arm hanging off the back of Izzy's chair. They've got their heads together like they're in on some kind of big secret.
Ed's calling himself Blackbeard these days. At least, that's what Jack's heard. He hadn't figured on running into him tonight—not this far south, at any rate.
The barkeep sneers at Jack—this'll be his fourth—but he slops more rum into the tankard. The tavern noise lulls as Jack brings it to his mouth.
"…could still come sail with me…"
"…Ed, that's…"
"…just a thought, mate. If you…"
Anger flares in Jack's gut; he glances over again. Ed's never bothered touching Izzy before, and now the bastard's got his hand on the back of Izzy's neck. The look on Izzy's face is—fuck. Jack turns back around. He heads to the back door and walks outside, where he won't have to watch Ed take Izzy upstairs.
He's not stupid, despite what people like to think. He knows he was Izzy's second choice. He knows that Izzy only left Hornigold's ship with him because Ed didn't love him—because settling seemed better than sailing with Ed but never getting what he wanted. But he'd thought… he'd hoped—
"Jack?" Izzy asks. Tavern noise rushes outside as door swings shut behind him. "What are you doing out here?"
"Could ask you the same thing."
"Ed was asking about you."
"I'll just bet," Jack grunts. Izzy's collar looks a bit loose—like Ed touched his throat, or maybe kissed it. The thought of someone else's hands on Izzy sends him into such a rage that he slams his empty tankard against the wall. "Fuck."
"Jack? What are—oh." Izzy scoffs. "You're drunk."
Jack gets his hand on Izzy's throat and backs him into the wall. He digs his thumb in as he asks, "You come out here to say goodbye before you shove off with Eddie?"
"You dumb fuck," Izzy snaps, face flushing. He squirms against the wall and jabs his knuckles into Jack's side. "Do you actually think I'd leave you?"
Jack says, "I think," and uses his other hand to paw at the front of Izzy's pants. "I think you're wet just from him whispering in your ear." He yanks Izzy's pants open and gets his hand on Izzy's cunt, teasing his fingers over Izzy's hole, right where he's warm and slick. "He doesn't want you. He just doesn't want anyone else having you."
Izzy snarls at that, lips curling like he's about to spit in Jack's face, but then Jack drags his fingers up and slides them along either side of Izzy's cock. Izzy makes a choked noise and rolls his hips, pushing into Jack's hand. He clutches at Jack's vest and hisses Jack's name.
"Yeah, me," Jack mutters. "Mine." He strokes Izzy's cock a few more times, then dips his fingers back down and pushes them inside—one, two. "You're mine, Hands. If Eddie tries to take you from me—"
"He's not," Izzy insists, shaking his head. His cunt is fucking soaked. "He doesn't—"
"I'll kill him." Jack works a third finger in and rubs his thumb over Izzy's cock. "He comes anywhere near this cunt and I'll gut him like a fucking pig."
"Don't," Izzy says, but he's trembling now, breathing high and hard, showing teeth. "You—"
"Should fuck you like this," Jack says, rocking his fingers deeper. "Should pin you on my cock right here, so anyone who comes outside will know who you belong to."
Izzy whines and tips his head back. His throat flexes under Jack's hand.
"Should get Eddie out here, yeah? Let him see you dripping all over me." That hooks another noise out of Izzy's throat. Jack rubs and rubs at Izzy's cock and fucks his fingers in and in and in. He says, "Yeah, c'mon," with his mouth against Izzy's temple. "Come for me, sweetheart. Come right on my hand."
Izzy gasps into it, shaking, his eyes fluttering closed and his mouth dropping open as his cunt squeezes around Jack's fingers. His knees wobble, and he sags against Jack's chest. He digs his nails into Jack's arms and sucks in huge lungfuls of the humid, night air.
When he can breathe again, he rears back and slaps Jack across the face.
"That's for thinking I'd leave you."
"Sorry," Jack mutters, "I just… thinking about you with someone else makes me crazy."
"Fancy talk from a guy who won't commit."
That—fuck. It's been four years since the mutiny: four years of them sailing together and sharing a cabin, sharing a life. But Jack hasn't brought matelotage up because he assumed Izzy would say no, that he wouldn't want to splice himself to a guy who drinks too much and has so much pain left over from the fire that he can't get out of bed some days.
"Would you want that? If I…"
Izzy almost smiles. "Ask me again when you're sober. And when you're not in a strop about fucking Ed."