the Dalaverse

So. The Christmas fic I've been nattering about all day. PotC, but...modern-day AU, reincarnation fic, whatever you want to call me plunking the gang down in an unnamed 21st century American college. Don't take it seriously, please. Will/James.

Very much NC-17. It wanted to be named after a Wham! song (you can probably guess which one), but I turned it down cold.

And I was supposed to spend today writing a history paper for tomorrow. Ha.



All I Want For Christmas (Is You)



It was the last weekend before the start of exams and James was shut up in his room, surrounded by books and notes and caffeinated beverages. Every now and again, he would glance up from his sprawl on the rug in order to frown at the closed door. The campus-wide mood of revelry was so strong that it had flowed into the usually quiet freshman dorms, into the party at the end of the hall and the one on the floor beneath. Thumping beats penetrated his brain, overcoming his considerable ability to shut out distractions. Drunken shouts rang out over the music, accompanied by feminine explosions of laughter, and it seemed worse for the fact that it was more immediate, more human than the music blasting through the speakers.

Biting down hard on his pen cap, James rearranged himself so that he was lying on his back, chemistry textbook propped against his knees. Something knobby collided with his head when he flung it back. He cursed and groped behind him, coming up with Will’s hockey stick, which was poking out from beneath his bed. Wanker, James thought – unkindly, for Will was normally as neat a roommate as could be asked for. His frustration with the other boy had nothing to do with Will, and everything to do with James himself.

He shoved the stick further into the shadowy recesses, breathing in the aroma of dust and sweat. Will was probably damp with sweat right now, from drinking and dancing, as pink-cheeked and bright-eyed as if he’d just come back from practice, his cinnamon curls plastered to his brow. Sometimes it took all the willpower James possessed to keep from reaching up to sweep that heavy forelock back. Sometimes Elizabeth would do it instead, or worse, Jack, and James would feel himself go cold with a complicated mixture of envy and rage and sadness.

“You are sad, James,” he said to himself, closing his eyes to the swirl of formulas on the white pages. Nursing a crush on his roommate – not the first he’d ever gotten on a boy, but certainly the strongest, and therefore the scariest. The years spent training his eyes to follow curvy breasts and hips across the room instead of athletic shoulders and big hands did nothing to dispel the dreams he suffered, with their object so close he could almost reach out to touch him. Changing rooms had been hell back in school, and this was like a twenty-four hour repeat of the same, especially when the heat in their ancient building acted up and Will shed his shirt, complaining that he hadn’t come up north to sleep in the Florida heat again.

It didn’t help to have the faint promise of possibility taunting him, either – he wasn’t entirely sure that Will was as straight as his fondness for sports would suggest. He was affectionate with Elizabeth, so much so that James had at first thought that they were an item. But he never showed any sign of unease when Jack touched him, either, and Jack was about as flaming as they came, though there were rumors that he’d fuck a girl if she got him drunk enough.

In fact, James had no idea why Will didn’t seem to be interested in either of his two best friends; whichever sex he favored, they were both prime candidates. He’d known Elizabeth for years and Jack since birth, or even before, considering how long their families had been friends. The three of them had just happened to end up going to the same university and yet there wasn’t a single romantic entanglement to be seen – James found it highly improbable. He wished he had the nerve to ask about it. He wished he had the nerve to do a lot of things.

Not least of which was stomping through the hall and demanding that the music be turned down. Even if he’d been enough of a tattletale to go whinging to the RA, the RA on this floor happened to be Jack, and he happened to be the one responsible for all the noise. Besides, if he got the thing broken up, Elizabeth would never forgive him. Will would, but he also might think twice before he invited James out with them again. And uncertain of the group dynamic though he was, James would never sacrifice those moments when Will was most relaxed, when he would throw his head back to laugh and sometimes lay a friendly hand on James’ forearm. Even if he was never quite comfortable under Jack’s dark, intense gaze, which always seemed to be sizing him up; even if he often felt like the unneeded fourth wheel of a tricycle.

The obscene caroling outside got louder and louder until finally his door burst open, shocking him into sitting up. Will and Elizabeth staggered in, she hanging off of his shoulder, he with three red plastic cups cradled against his chest.

“James!” said Elizabeth breathlessly, her eyes and full lips crinkled up with holiday spirit and whatever spirits were in the red cups. “Sure we can’t convince you to make an appearance?”

James shook his head, watching as she tugged at her short green skirt. “I really have a lot of work to do.”

Elizabeth made a face and snagged a cup out of Will’s hands. “It’s almost Christmas! Celebrate!”

“James will celebrate after he gets the highest grade in each of his classes, I’m sure,” said Will with a grin. His speech was only a little slurred, his eyes twinkling merrily beneath his felt Santa hat. “I’ll hang out here for awhile and distract you.”

Fuck. Can’t very well study with a hard-on. “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” he protested, scooting back to lean against the bedframe, the better to display the pile of materials surrounding him.

Will shrugged, glancing back down the hall. “It’s kinda starting to die down, anyway.”

“Is not,” Elizabeth declared. She pulled his hat off and affixed it crookedly atop her own head. “Not if me and Jack’ve got anything to say about it.”

“Jack is about five minutes away from breaking out the pictures of his boat,” Will informed her, “and ten minutes away from passing out cold.”

Elizabeth snickered, though she didn’t look any more sober to James’ eyes. Pivoting on the heels that added an extra three inches to her already leggy form, she gave James a strange look, not quite a smirk. “‘Night, boys.” She cupped her hand over Will’s ear and whispered something that made him frown, flicking his eyes over to his roommate.

James quickly glanced down at his lap, feeling himself flush. He’d done what he could to make Will’s friends like him; apparently he hadn’t succeeded with Elizabeth. “You’re a troublemaker,” he could just barely hear Will murmur as he shut the door behind her. James had gotten his embarrassment under control by the time Will turned around, a casual smile on his face.

“Brought you some punch,” he said, ambling over and plopping down on the bed. James fought opposing desires to lean against his knee and to move as far away as possible. He settled for wriggling on the floor, a little like a dog with worms.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the proffered cup and sipping at it cautiously. It was sweet, with the faint flavor of cranberry, but it was also strong enough to make him cough. “Jesus, what’s in this?”

“Jack made it,” said Will, contemplating his own punch, “so probably rum, and rum, and some more rum.”

James peered down at the bright red liquid swirling in his cup, hyper-aware of Will’s legs, clad in expensive-looking black trousers, at the edge of his vision. Will smelled like his new wool sweater, spicy cologne, and dully sweet marijuana smoke, which was a curious and wonderful combination. He smelled – and James’ stomach knot itself at the merest thought of the word – perfectly fuckable.

He tipped the cup back and swallowed its contents as quickly as he could work his throat.

Will was so surprised by this that he thunked down onto the floor beside James, eyes wide. “Whoa. You really needed that, huh?”

Hand shaking slightly, James held the cup over his eyes, the drink burning all the way to his guts. No, he thought, already unwinding, the muscles of the thigh pressed up against Will’s loosening, no, that was probably the stupidest thing I could have done.

One corner of his mouth quirked, Will held up his own cup. “Want mine?”

James ignored it, staring at his lips. They were always on his mind, but were they always so shiny and red? Had Will been kissing somebody else tonight? Was it the same shade as Elizabeth’s lipstick – and was that Jack’s glittery eyeliner rimming his lids?

“Oh,” said Will sheepishly, lowering his long eyelashes, “the makeup, yeah, that was the combined forces of Liz and Jack. They didn’t make me look too much like a drag queen, did they?”

“No,” James whispered, entranced by the faint dusting of sparkles across his cheekbones. He knew how to deal with sweaty Will, and naked Will, and sunburnt Will, and post-all-nighter Will, but this softly glowing, ridiculously pretty creature was beyond his abilities, hindered by rum punch or otherwise.

His famous cool head boiled over and he tilted his chin, pressing his lips clumsily to the other boy’s. Will dropped his cup, splashing red punch all over the dark blue rug.

James jerked back, ripping a page in his chemistry book. He rocked onto his knees, feeling the horror at what he’d just done transmute itself into a sick rumble in his stomach. “Oh God, I’m sorry,” he babbled, dragging his fingers uselessly through the puddle. “I didn’t mean to – I’ve made a mess –”

“Stop,” said Will, sounding as unsteady as James felt. Christ, I’ve terrified him and disgusted him and he’ll never want to speak to me again – “It doesn’t matter, James, it’s just carpet...” The cup, uprighted by James in his sudden flurry, went tumbling over again as Will tugged on the collar of his t-shirt and kissed him firmly. He tasted like the punch and whatever berry-flavored stuff Elizabeth had put on his lips, and his mouth was as warm and soft as James had imagined all these weeks. Without his bidding, his hands went sifting through Will’s hair, slightly hampered by some kind of product. It must have felt nice, because Will’s tongue flexed against his own and he gripped James’ shoulders tightly.

At some point he realized he needed to breathe and he pulled back with bitter regret. Will didn’t let him get far, however; panting softly, he leant his forehead against James’ own.

“Oh,” said James, the first thing that occurred to him.

“Yeah,” Will replied. His fingers came up to curl around James’ face, framing his jaw.

James shook his head slightly, running the tip of his tongue over his lips just to make sure he hadn’t dreamed this up. “I thought – I never knew you –”

“I didn’t know about you, either,” said Will, breathing out with a shudder, “or at least I wasn’t sure. Jack and Liz have been after me forever to make some kind of move, but they both have kind of an opportunistic gaydar, and sometimes you’re so...” He bumped his nose against James’ upper lip. “Inscrutable. I thought maybe you were just really English, and you didn’t date anybody because you didn’t like American girls or something.”

“And I was afraid that you and – and one of them, or both of them –”

Will laughed, stroking the short hair behind James’ ears. “Elizabeth was the first girl who convinced me how much I really, really wanted guys. I’ve known Jack for way too long – and besides, he cheats on his boyfriends.”

James was almost alarmed by the joy that leapt through him at the word ‘boyfriend.’ If Will wanted something more than just somebody to snog on Christmas – “I – I see...”

A groan escaped Will’s parted lips. “Jamie, d’you have any idea how incredibly sexy that accent is?” He lunged for James again, knocking him back against the edge of the bed, his knee landing between James’ legs. James couldn’t help but rub against it when it came into contact with his groin, already lost within the sensation of touching Will, kissing him, being surrounded by his scent and his taste and his skin. His head fell back onto the bed, eyes trying to process the incongruity of the Radiohead poster on the ceiling as Will nibbled at his ear.

“Mmm,” Will whispered, scraping teeth over James’ jumping pulse, “let’s move up, a little...” James struggled to get his feet under him, prodded until he had successfully scrambled up onto the bed. Will fell down beside him, kicking the covers out of the way and going straight for James’ fly. Panic bled through the blissful torpor of his mind; he pushed at Will’s hands.

“I – I’ve never...” he began, turning red with a whole new degree of shame.

Will paused, looking so adorably disappointed that James almost laughed. “You don’t want to?”

Oh, he’d gone about it all wrong again. “No, I do,” he insisted, clutching at Will’s waist to keep him from pulling away. “I just...I don’t know...”

“It’s okay,” said Will, his voice and his smile softening, melting into the corner of James’ mouth. He sat up suddenly, tugging at his sweater. James lifted an arm to help him off with it, sparing a momentary appreciation for luxuriant blue wool before he was mesmerized as usual by Will’s smooth, bare torso. The difference was that this time he was free to look as he pleased.

Will grinned down at him. “You too,” he said, lifting the hem of James’ shirt. James rose up to let him pull it off, pushing against the hands lingering on his ribs, his chest, his biceps. For a moment they merely looked at each other, contemplating the newness of the moment when the only new thing about it was how close they were to one another.

Then Will wriggled, digging in his pocket. He pulled out a small bunch of green leaves. “Mistletoe,” he explained, then elaborated with a slight eye-roll, “Jack’s idea.” He stretched out next to James, propping up on one elbow, and snapped his teeth on the gift.

“Real mistletoe is poisonous, you know,” said James.

“Well, good thing this stuff’s just plastic,” said Will, after he’d pulled it out and dangled it over James’ head. “Still works, though.” And he bent over to kiss James on the brow, his lips tickling faintly. James chuckled, his nerves easing somewhat, overtaken by fresh desire as Will trailed the mistletoe down his body, following it with his mouth. When he got to the dark trail of hair disappearing beneath James’ waistband, however, apprehension came back with renewed force.

Will stroked fingertips over his quivering stomach, looking up to reassure him as he leaned down between his legs. “Shhh,” he murmured, popping the button, slowly pulling the zipper down. “I know what I’m doing.”

I hope so, James thought, because I’m completely in over my head.

It was his last chance at coherence before Will slid his jeans and boxers down over his hips, freeing his erection, which was immediately drawn into a hot, eager mouth. James had come close to losing his virginity with a few girls back home, but this was closer than any of them had allowed, and it was Will, and he thought that he might die right then and there.

He made noises, he wasn’t sure exactly what – some kind of whimpering, gasping cry. Underneath he could hear the sound of Will sucking, wet and rhythmic and erotic. The faint hum – that he could feel more than hear, a vibration that sent white-hot shocks running through him, throbbing as heavily as the music surrounding them.

The tune was oddly familiar, and after a moment he figured out that it was “Jingle Bell Rock.” He remembered that Will was a perpetually off-key singer, but at the moment he sounded quite nice. It didn’t hurt, of course, that he had James' prick thrust as far down his throat as he could manage, or that his long fingers were curling and squeezing around James' balls. Inexplicably, James thought of tiny Christmas lights - the tasteful white ones Will had strung up in their room, Elizabeth’s messy rows of red and green, and the mismatched collection of colors that was Jack’s choice. As he and Will had been helping to hang them, a strand had gone out like he’d never seen before: not all at once, but one by one down the line, each winking out faster and faster until – Will had moved on to “The Little Drummer Boy” – finally it reached the outlet – oh dear God, the pa-rum-pa-pum-pums – and the power in the whole fucking building blew out.

Somewhere, he was aware of Will’s tongue laving him clean, his clothing being pulled all the way off, a warm body cuddling close and a sheet billowing over them both, but he couldn’t really feel any of it. When he was able to open his eyes again, he found the other boy’s face very close to his own, looking at him with a sweet smile that seemed to say Will had been waiting a very long time to introduce James to his favorite Christmas carols.

He breathed out, a low sigh, and draped his arm over Will’s flank, amazed at how neatly they fit together.

Well, not quite so neat – Will was still wearing his trousers, and the bugle beneath them pressed insistently against James’ thigh. Willing his hands to stop quivering, James unfastened belt and buttons, letting Will sit up to pull his shoes off first. They settled back, equally nude now, and James regarded his roommate with some trepidation. He wished now that he’d practiced with a banana or a carrot like they did in films, or else that he’d paid closer attention while Will was going down on him.

As he wet his lips, Will caught him up in a deep kiss. If that was what it tasted like, James thought, it wasn’t so bad, but then he could still taste the punch too. Before he could finally make the decision to duck beneath the covers, Will took his hand, guided it to his prick.

“Touch me,” he whispered into James’ mouth, “please, please...” His voice got rougher when James closed fingers around his shaft. Such a polite boy, was the first thing his mother had said when they’d moved in at the beginning of term –

Right, unfortunate turn of thought – time to regroup. Will, in my hand, hot and hard and...soft, the skin right at the head there. Hmm. He feels like me, only different. Nicer. And listen to him breathe, beg...

Will jerked his hips, pushed into James’ curved palm, face pressed against his neck. James tried to keep track of his reactions everywhere, noting the similarities to and differences from his fantasies. The basics were as he’d expected, but he could never have imagined the way Will’s feet curled up, how his short, blunt nails dug into the flesh of James’ back, the small helpless cries building into a keening moan as Will came. James drew his hand cautiously away, unsure of what to do about the sticky white smear across it. Will took a few heaving breaths before he roused himself enough to reach for the tissues on his nightstand.

Wiping his hand off, James suddenly thought about disease and safety and whether or not this was the sort of activity you needed a condom for. He figured that what he’d done was okay, but he was fairly certain that nasty things could be transmitted via blowjob – not much to worry about considering he’d never exchanged fluids with anybody before, and Will was probably responsible with his partners, since he didn’t even like it when Elizabeth took sips out of his soda -

“You’ve got that Eeyore look in your eyes again,” said Will, pulling the sheet back up.

“What?”

He brushed James’ hair back, kissing the spot between his eyelids. “‘Even if you think you have nothing worth stealing, someone will come along and take your tail.’”

“I see you’ve started studying for your Children’s Lit exam, at least,” said James wryly.

Will poked his arm. “You know what I mean. Was it – do you regret doing this?”

“No,” said James with feeling. He tightened his grip to add emphasis, hugging the long bones and slender muscles. “No, I don’t regret it. I just – if it was only Christmas and mistletoe, that’s okay.” He swallowed hard, the words sticking his throat. “I mean I really like you, and this was exactly what I wanted, but if you want to go back to being just mates tomorrow, it would be –”

“James,” said Will flatly. “Shut up.” He glared at James, eyebrows fiercely knit, until the other boy relaxed against him.

“Right,” James said, and shut up.

With a satisfied nod, Will let his head drop back onto James’ shoulder. James closed his eyes and buried his nose in tousled brown curls. He tried to remember what he’d asked for this Christmas, but kept coming up blank.

They heard Elizabeth coming before she got the door all the way open.

“My roomie’s being a churchified prude and glaring like she’s my mother, so can I sleep in here tonight?” The Santa hat still perched atop her head, Elizabeth swung into the room, then froze when she saw the pair in the single bed. James burrowed beneath the covers, but not before he saw her eyes widen in delight and her hand fly to her mouth.

“No, Liz, you can’t,” said Will calmly.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, don’t mind me, carry on – I’ll stay with Jack...” She cut herself off with a giggle. James poked his head back out once he heard the door close, meeting Will’s eyes and his smile with a grateful kiss.

This time when the door opened, he didn’t bother to hide.

“Sorry,” Elizabeth repeated, just her head poking in, “but seriously, you guys, how was it? Was it good?”

Will shifted James out of the way so he could chuck his shoe at the rapidly shutting door.

“Fine then!” Her voice faded away as she retreated down the hall, but they could still hear her call smugly out, “Hey Ja-ack, I know something you don’t know!”

Flinging himself back down, Will started at the proprietary squeeze of his ass.

“Joy to the world,” James reminded him, confident that they would have relative peace now that they’d gotten the discovery over with. For the rest of the night, at least.

“How ‘bout the part with repeating the sounding joy?” Will suggested.

As it was, after all, the season, they proceeded to exercise that particular verse to its fullest extent.