Work Text
"Do ya really...
Really
think we shoulda done it?" Ragetti questioned, tilting his head a little bit as he sat on his hammock below deck eyeing his partner like his eye might well with tears. Pintel glanced around the crew's quarters in a way that was meant to be casual but landed closer to
conspicuous
before leaning forward. For what it was worth, Ragetti didn't seem to notice how accidentally awkward it was; he was more focused on just how
good
Pintel’s face getting closer to his looked and felt.
His distraction very well could have been because Pintel's hands wrapped around his in a way that
always
derailed his train of thought.
Kissing his knuckles, Pintel offered a sleazy smile with his crooked teeth bared and his eyes almost squeezed shut. It was practically a look laden with affection if Ragetti didn’t know any better, and he wasn’t sure that he did. Watching as his lover melted like butter under a hot knife from the simple affection, Pintel knew it wouldn't take much to convince Ragetti that Jack's exile was a good idea. And, even more, a
great
idea for
them
.
"'s not such a bad idea, Love. Captain Barbossa knows what ‘e's doing, more ‘an Jack ever did." Then again, Jack rarely knew
anything
. He was a bit like the more clueless members of his crew like that; he was a bit like
Ragetti
like that. Each word was punctuated with another kiss; Pintel's lips found the backs of his lover's fingertips, the segments of each finger, and finally his knuckles again.
"I... Huh." Ragetti's eyelids were at half-mast, his lips parted, and his mind numb. At least Pintel knew he'd already won and assuaged all of Ragetti's guilt. "You
do
have a good point, I think... But–"
Another kiss landed–this time on the inside of his wrist–and Ragetti instantly forgot what he'd been about to say.
Each time Pintel's lips met the work-roughened skin of his palms, Ragetti's brain short-circuited again. It wasn't hard for Pintel to rework his opinions like this, with a few well-placed kisses and the timber in his voice that made it sound more like he'd just woken up. That was the exact tone and roughness that turned Ragetti to putty
every time
.
"You don't need to worry yer pretty little ‘ead ‘bout
Jack Sparrah
." Those words washed over Ragetti like a physical press, wiping away his furrowed brow, the tension in his shoulders, and the tightness in his chest, "You just let ol’ Pintel take care-a that, and
you
," Those lips found the center of Ragetti's palm again and whatever else Pintel was saying was lost to the ringing in Ragetti's ears and the static in his brain up until he ended on an uncharacteristically soft, "Okay?"
"Uh-huh," It was probably the most intelligent thing he'd said since they'd started sailing away from Jack's new home, and Ragetti didn't even notice. A few more hand kisses came and went before Pintel drug his mouth up his lover's arm over his shirt. Following the line of it to his shoulder, mouth dragging against the fabric of his tunic, Pintel kissed and bit his neck before finally finding his chin.
After a minute of sucking and biting a collar of hickeys just beneath his jaw, Pintel’s lips traveled up the other's cheek, then down to his mouth. They shared a slow but no less enthusiastic kiss before Pintel finally pulled back.
"There's m’good boy." The grin that accompanied his words was borderline salacious and
definitely
too full of teeth. Pressing another kiss to Ragetti’s slack-jawed mouth, he rubbed his thumb over his lover’s knuckles, "’Ow ‘bout we talk about somethin' other ‘an
Jack
?"
"Okay!" All Pintel had to do now was keep touching him until the guilt went away for good, but it wasn’t even a little bit of a problem. Any excuse to get his hands on his lover was a good enough one, after all. Ragetti would double as a good distraction from Pintel's own mixed feelings on the subject; this killed two birds with one stone. Or one Sparrow with a single bullet, maybe. Anything that ate up his attention was a welcome distraction right now.
"We're goin’ ta get that treasure as we speak, Love. It'll be worth alla this. Th’end will justify th’means."
Despite not quite getting it or knowing what it was from, Ragetti nodded and offered a cute, lovestruck smile.
"I know it will." Though he hadn't known that a minute ago, Ragetti’s opinion often changed with whatever came first; Pintel's opinion coming to light or a slight shift in the wind.
"Good, tha’s good. Ya know I'd never steer ya wrong." Maybe that was why Pintel wasn't captain, his steering was questionable–but never exactly
wrong
.