Title: High Tide
Summary: Before the rum goes away, but after they find it.
PLEASE NOTE: It's sex, and I debated on whether or not it should really be NC-17 or not. It's not too terribly graphic, in any case. I just put both R and NC-17 on there to be safe.
Disclaimer: Jack and Elizabeth do not belong to me. Nor does the rum.
Word Count: 439
The rhythm of the ocean is not steady. Waves crash upon shores far and wide, large, foamy waves and small, rolling ones. The crash of a domineering wave barging it's way onshore intermingle with the gentle, rolling hiss of a smaller wave sneaking playfully up the sand.
A small island in the Caribbean, an island of no consequence, seemed a canvas onto which the ocean would play it's songs, the sand making note of the song until a storm would come from above and wipe it away, leaving a blank page for the ocean to refill. This island, today, sang songs of footprints, fire, and rum.
A man and a woman stood together, waist-deep in the ocean, rum-addled and covered in white Caribbean sand. As the waves washed ashore, they rocked together, bodies mimicking the crash and hiss of the water on the sand. They were intertwined, much like beads and bone were entangled in the man's hair.
"Can you hear the sea?" the man asked the woman in a low, rasping voice, running his rough pirate's hands along her bare shoulder and down her arm. She gave a whimper and a nod, and he brought his lips to hers. She could smell the rum on him, mixed with the musky odor of his sweat and the fresh saltiness of the ocean around them.
She could hear the sea, yes. She could feel it all around her. She felt every wave as it bobbed them up together and back down, and she could feel him accentuate the movement with a very fluid movement of his hips. His hands were planted on her hips now, and every time she moved up with the water he'd move her back down again with increasing fervor.
The wind had picked up, and the ocean's waves had become more demanding. Louder they crashed as they struck the island, harder they pushed as they rolled past the pair, and it seemed the wind would knock the two over when they stopped moving and simply wrapped their arms around one another. They moved to the shore, the man's drunken swagger accentuated by the waves nudging him to and fro as they rolled past him to the shore and then back out to sea. The two fell to the sand by their emptied bottles of rum.
"Jack?" the woman asked, yawning. She curled up by his side and he put one arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer still. He replied with a low, rumbling grunt. She meant to ask him something, but by the time her eyes closed shut, she had forgotten what it was.