Word Count: 554
Rating: PG for drunkenness
Genre: I don't know. Fluff?
Summary: Jack's drunk. Norrie's drunk. Assumes a prior relationship. Outside of movie-time.
Disclaimer: Disney owns them. Jack owns the rum.
Spoilers: None whatsoever.
Warnings: Slash. Men kissing.
Notes: No notes for you, sorry.
Special Thanks: To witchbabyweetz for the most helpful beta. :)
"Damn this weather," Jack thought, pressed against the side of a building. Rain poured down over him, the surrounding houses doing little to shelter him. He clutched a half-empty rum bottle to his chest, as if its mere presence would warm him.
A body slumped against the wall next to him. Jack started away, thinking it a corpse; upon further inspection, he concluded that the man was mostly conscious. Sniffing at him a bit, Jack decided that the man was dead drunk. "You, what you doing here?" He poked the man.
"Clearly, I am drunk," the stranger growled, grabbing for Jack's bottle of rum. In doing so, he turned his face towards Jack, who finally recognised him.
"Jamie! What you doing here?" Jack asked, concerned despite his drunkenness.
Norrington rose and staggered away from the wall. "Jack. I should have known. Aren't I supposed to be mad at you?"
"Not much incentive for me to tell you, is there?" Jack stood and ducked under Norrington's arm, supporting him. "How much did you have to drink, luv?"
"Not nearly enough, if I'm seeing pirates." Norrington answered.
Jack didn't answer, finding the weight of Norrington's body comforting, and the warmth radiating from said body even more comforting.
"Shouldn't you be taking offense at that?" asked Norrington.
"Oh no, Jamie-luv, I know you don't mean it." Jack grinned. "Now, what do you say to us finding an inn somewhere we can both be dry?"
"I'm out of money. What about you?"
"Well, I spent all me money already. I suppose that leaves us to find a comfortable place to stay in the rain, eh?" Jack started off in a random direction, pulling Norrington along with him.
"Where are you going?" Norrington asked, resisting.
Jack sighed. "To find us some shelter, you idiot."
"I'm fine right here," grumbled Norrington.
"Oh, you're just too drunk to move. Fine, we'll stay here. Don't blame me if you wake up all cold and shivery tomorrow." With that, Jack sat down, leaned back against the wall once more, and closed his eyes.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Jack woke slowly, noticing little things first: the braid sticking to his forehead, the stone under his left ankle. Then he noticed the ache in his head, the sun shining through his eyelids, the arm across his chest. Well. That was interesting. He sat up, looking around.
"That's a fine way for Captain Jack Sparrow to wake up," he muttered. "In the middle of an alley, hung over, cuddled up to an ex-Commodore." He turned to look at that same ex-Commodore.
"Ah, Jamie, you look so sweet when you're asleep," Jack whispered, brushing tangled brown hair off of Norrington's face. "Well, best wake you," he said, shaking Norrington's shoulder.
Norrington jerked awake with a strangled yelp. Seeing who had woken him, he rolled his eyes and said, "Ever so tactful, aren't you, Jack?" He smiled in amusement despite himself.
"Am I forgiven, then, for stealing your pretty boat? I promise I'll pay you back..." Jack leaned close, his face scant inches away from Norrington's. "Someday," he whispered.
"Very well. I suppose I can forgive you," Norrington murmured. Jack smiled, teeth glinting in the sunlight. "Now shut up," Norrington added, and kissed Jack.
"Glad to, Jamie-luv," was Jack's last coherent thought for a long while.