DMTNT 2

As I stated before, Jack is not a morning person. However, there are a few things that he is, like impossibly lustful. So when I woke him just before dawn by nibbling lightly on his collarbone, what choice did he have? He cursed me with every thrust.

I do love him, and he must realize that. I must try to believe him when he tells me that he loves me. Nevertheless, there is a trust issue between us that is strangely undefined. Jack calls it a bad habit. I call it unbreakable conditioning.

"Me head is pounding, and you did that just to make me fetch the tea," Jack whined softly against James' chest.

James chuckled. "We have a full day ahead of us. We should make the most of this lovely morning."

"Now, Jack, let's not be so testy. The sooner we are up and about our work, the sooner we will be out to sea once more," James said cheerfully.

"This be totally on purpose. It's some bloody revenge for something I did to you in the past." Jack lifted his head to look James in the eyes.

They were silent for a few seconds longer. Then Jack smiled, slowly and wickedly.

Amazingly enough for any other person who knew Jack Sparrow to comprehend, but not so much for James, Jack got up. He moved about the cabin, pulling on clothing and grabbing a battered old tea pot.

Cookie had learned to start the cook fires a wee bit earlier since James had joined the crew. In fact, the whole crew of the Black Pearl was grudgingly learning to adjust at being awakened for duty just before cock's crow. James was simply amazed by the influence he wielded aboard the ship. Within a handful of days as the first mate and the captain's man, he had changed a very large margin of the crew's more shoddy habits.

James rose as well. There was simply no reason to be a slug-a-bed when Jack was so lovingly fetching him tea. He stepped into a pair of breeches that Jack had acquired for him to replace the once white breeches that were part of his last uniform. He then slipped into the mended white shirt he possessed. He felt his chin to gauge the necessity for a shave. He determined that he could go this day without. Although he enjoyed being freshly groomed, he began to consider things on a more time-saving and resource-preserving basis, as was often necessary on board a ship. Also, one would say that perhaps the pirates' shoddy habits had a reverse influence on him. There was a tit-for-tat.

He put on his overcoat, the heavily brocaded coat of an admiral in the East India Company. The rip in the back of the coat had been crudely stitched closed and James was proud of its battered condition. It made him feel even more the pirate of honor. There he was: an ex-admiral who chose his pirate destiny freely and was happier for it.

When James stepped out on deck, he turned his face eastward and to the sunrise which was just a streak of gold along the horizon. He longed to be out to sea once more. And he wholly empathized with Jack on the subject of the sea. A good ship was home and the sea was freedom. After a deep cleansing breath of morning air, James headed down into the hold to rouse the morning watch so they may relieve the night watch.

He found, much to his relief, that the morning men were relatively easy to rouse. One of the four-man team, a sailor named Ragetti, informed him of the reason why:

"We be figurin' that if we be in port or no, you were going to get us up at the same time as afore, Mr. James. So we just made our night a little earlier than usual. Still managed t' have us a fine time all the same, sir."

James considered Jack's explanation as valid but incomplete. There was something more involved in the faithful service of the Pearl's crew that James wanted to get to the heart of.

To his face they called him "Mr. James" as they had been instructed to do. This had, of course, been Jack's idea. Jack felt that the name 'Norrington' would have bad associations with his crew, and the use of James' Christian name could soften the men up more to him. But James also knew that behind his back they called him "The Commodore" with a great touch of mockery but also with some respect. It was how they acknowledged his authority on the Pearl and his strong influence on her captain without being overtly insubordinate. James accepted this. Let them resent him a little. It was inevitable. Besides, James assumed that a pirate ship should not be the setting for a popularity contest.

Nevertheless, the men adored Jack, and perhaps that was as it should be. Every single man-jack of them respected Jack's authority without question. It was probably this one thing that gave James his own authority aboard the Pearl. Jack pointed the course for them to accept James, and the crew willfully followed their captain.

When James stepped back up on deck, following the yawning dawn watch, he was met by Jack who held two steaming, full tin cups. The one in his left hand he handed off to James. James took a cautious sip. Tea with honey; he had the correct cup. Jack took his tea sweetened with rum. That was not James' idea of breakfast beverages. However, James discovered that that first tipple in Jack actually made him more coherent and less grumpy.

They stood side by side, sipping their tea, and watched as the dawn watch relieved the night watch. The three men of the night watch shuffled past them with barely an acknowledging look as they headed for the galley to take in a little breakfast before they bunked down. The lack of acknowledgement still unnerved James a little. On a proper British vessel, a man of rank would be acknowledged by his passing subordinates almost always. Only in pitched battle or an emergency that required all hands would it not be necessary for the sailors and marines to acknowledge the officers with a greeting or a salute.

It unnerved him still, but not so much as it did the first time he had noted it when he had been just a rum-soaked deck-hand on the Pearl. He had expected it and it had not been necessary. Therefore it had offered another opportunity for laughter and ridicule from the pirates when he had saluted Mr. Gibbs smartly in the morning before they set sail.

However, he had been taken by surprise his first day back on the Pearl as the new first mate, when two of the sailors had stopped in their tracks, stood at rigid attention and saluted properly. James had stared at the two men hard, knowing that he knew those faces. Then it dawned on him. He folded his hands behind himself smartly and looked past the two men, his bearing completely military and assured.

The two had breathed out a relieved sigh as he passed. James had wondered what they had expected: Punishment? An official reprimand? A public flogging?

After James had made it through half his cup of tea, Jack spoke to him. At last he sounded awake, alert and ready for the day.

"So we are settled on the plan, luv, aye? You get the stores and I get the crew?"

"Yes, Jack, we are settled," he agreed calmly and then took another sip of his cooling tea. "I'll need two men more with me for logistical purposes."

"Take your pick then," Jack replied with a mild smile. "Good thinking, too. Have them armed. Those bastards in the market are trickier and more ruthless than most of the pirates they supply."

Jack nodded. "I'll buy that." Jack then plucked the near empty cup from James' hands and turned on his heels. He headed back down towards the hold and the galley. James watched him with a content smile.

It was amazing how well he got along with Jack once he let go of that pointless animosity that had driven him from the moment he had laid eyes on him. James had thought his disdain and loathing of the pirate had had a point. He had thought he had been justified. Now he realized that he had been hiding behind the easy emotion of hate in an attempt to help cobble together what had been his picture of a perfect life. How could he love the woman of his dreams when his dreams were haunted by a reprobate scallywag with painted eyes and a wicked smile that made strange things happen to a certain occupant of his breeches?

Unbreakable conditioning, however, still made him question every little motive of his lover. Perhaps it was still prudent to do so. James would have to wait and see. Perhaps with time, all would be well.

"Dey Captain told me give you dis," the man said in his gravely, high voice with a hint of an accent. James could not place the origin of the accent but guessed Hungarian. Despite the fact that men of his type were rarely seen outside of traveling menageries and gypsy shows, Mr. Marty was a wonderfully competent sailor, in James' opinion.

The purse was the money Jack had promised him for buying stores. It wasn't much, but it would get them the basics.

"Very good, Mr. Marty," James said pleased. "Shall we go?" He turned and looked over the main deck to the men who ambled about. "Mr. Murtogg and Mr. Mullroy, you are with us. Step to, men."

There he goes, and not a moment too soon. Gibbs will be here soon enough and last thing I need is my scowlin' Jamie stormin' about making any new men twitchy. I don't care for twitchy men. They be prone to mutiny and other such nonsense.

It is hard to believe that it has been a week and more since we began our venture together. Yet here we are and no one has been throttled. Too soon t' call it a success yet. I wonder how he will take the rest of my plan?

"Awk! Sailor, do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death? Awrrrk!"

Jack blinked and he leaned back and away from the man, taken startled by his strong response.

Ten men, most of them young, most of them healthy, and all of them looking sound.

Jack turned to look at Mr. Cotton, who looked at Jack with a pleased and satisfied expression. He gave Jack an approving nod.

Gibbs directed the men to a barrel where a paper with the ship's articles sat. He took up a quill and ink and stood next to the barrel at ready so each of the new recruits could make their mark. Jack observed as each man came forward. Most marked with simple lines or a stylized 'X'. A few wrote out names. Jack could not assume that the names given on the page were the names the men were given at their birth. Most pirates preferred to be known only by aliases and nicknames that announced how vicious a scallywag they were.

One youngish looking sailor scrawled out his full name in very neat cursive that suggested schooling. After all the men finished and moved off to board with Gibbs, Jack took the parchment to look more closely at the young sailor's name.

Jack's eyes narrowed as he thought. There was something particular about that name; something he should know. One thing he did know was that Mr. Groves had schooling and schooling in a good lot of sailors not only suggested Royal Navy, but Royal Navy officer.

"Bloody trouble, those navy men...." Jack muttered to himself as he rolled the parchment and headed back on board.

"Two full barrels of citrus fruit, salted meats, two nanny goats and four hens, barrels of flour for biscuits and four full casks of rum," James proclaimed as they watched men march past laden with slab upon slab of salted, dried pork.

"Oh, what I'm bound t' do with you tonight," Jack added in a husky low tone. "Four full casks you say? All that with what I gave you?"

James turned to look at Jack, still with his most smug smile, "You told me to take my menace to the merchants. Menacing is something I do rather well."

Jack laughed. He could just imagine the market place smelled of piss and fear, more so than usual about now. He was so enjoying the moment that he nearly missed when James spied the new, young sailor who was helping haul up the first of the four casks. The infernal-proud smirk was wiped straight from James' face and was replaced by a deep and stormy scowl.

"Excuse me," James muttered as he turned on his heels and marched off, heading below. Jack watched and wondered.

The man was quite pretty with curling hair over an expressive brow. His mouth looked sinfully delicious and his shoulders were broad and strong. His back tapered down to a narrow waist and the perkiest arse Jack had seen on a man in a long while.

That thought made Jack's stomach ache in a funny, fluttery way, and his desire to find a full bottle of rum got a whole lot stronger.

At the sound of James' voice, Groves stood straight abruptly, turning towards the sound. A look of pure shock came over his features. His brown eyes were round in astonishment.

James walked forward to the man. "I'm not an admiral here. The men call me Mr. James... to my face. You will soon discover what they call me behind my back."

"I was," James replied smoothly. "Killed aboard the Dutchman.... But I was fortunate." He looked back up the stairs. "I was a lost soul found." He then looked back at Groves. "But what is your story?"

"Certainly not as glamorous as being lost then found," Groves said, looking away from James with what must have been the pain of bad memories on his handsome face. "I was one of the few who survived the sinking of the Endeavor. The East India Company is not kind to their fallen warriors, not as the Royal Navy has often been. We were cast off as redundant. Then no ship would take us. Survivors of a cursed ship, we were branded as cursed. It was a road to ruin."

James said nothing for the moment as he though this over. He understood the road to ruin. He had walked its dirty path once himself.

James smiled a slow sad smile. He walked past him heading towards the stair. As he passed, he laid a hand on Groves' shoulder. "Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, Mr. Groves."

James came into the great cabin, finding Jack seated at the chart table, a bottle of rum before him as he twirled a small navigation compass in his fingers. He looked thoughtful as he just stared at the thin metal instrument, his beautiful mouth set in a soft pout.

James loved Jack's mouth. It had to be the sweetest and most delicate thing James had ever seen on any human being, man or woman. James loved how Jack's beard, meant to make him more outlandish and obnoxious, only framed his lips' exquisite shape. Perfect lips, so very lovely; James longed to taste them, always.

Jack moved towards him with that particular sway of hips that James had at their first meeting found ludicrous and comical. Now he found the roll and sway of Jack's lithe, strong form intoxicating. It was like watching a dance. At times it was a drunken dance, but it was a dance all the same, performed by a strong and able dancer.

Yes, Jack had been drinking, but James only smiled, looking down on his lover. James towered over Jack by almost a head, but Jack never seemed daunted by their size difference.

"So," James said in a soft and sultry tone. "You mentioned a need to do something to me this evening?"

He watched Jack's perfectly lovely lips split into that wickedly bewitching smile, complete with gold and silver teeth.

"That I did, my Jamie. I had quite a few things in mind; all of them right lovely and very pleasurable for an evening."

James chucked. "Then I'll ask you first to give me a drink. Sharing the rum seems to go along with sharing the pleasures, as I recall."

Jack let him go for the moment to go to the navigation table. He grabbed up the bottle and brought it back to James. James took it and tipped it back to take his first healthy swig of the evening, noting with no small amount of excitement that Jack was sinking to his knees before him.

This is one of the many things that got James more excited than he ever dreamed possible. Those perfect, delectable lips going about his aching manhood was pure bliss. Just the thought of Jack's perfect mouth on his hardness was enough to send him almost completely beyond control.

"Oh, my Jack!" James moaned softly, as he felt Jack undo the fastens of his breeches. Warm fingers reached in and pulled his hardening member free of his clothing. James shivered as Jack laid a small delicate kiss to the shaft. Jack then began to nuzzle it warmly, breathing James in. The tickle of Jack's facial hair made James giggle ever so slightly on the end of a breathy moan of pleasure.

"Mmm. Hush and keep drinking, sweetling" Jack murmured softly as he continued to nuzzle kisses against James' hardened shaft.

"Perhaps we should take this to our cabin," James suggested a little breathlessly.

"Now, there is a notion." Jack grinned. He rose smoothly before James and took him by the hand. "Hold on t' your britches, luv. We're on the move."

James chuckled but did grab a handful of his breeches before they stepped off. They could have slipped from his hips otherwise.

I wonder if Jack knows? He completes me when we touch like this, and I've never felt this way before. I never knew a human being could feel this way. I don't know why I waited so long to realize this joy. I was truly half a man before. Our touch, our love makes us one.

How can such a thing be wrong? Yet all the clergy of my youth would condemn me to hell for my love. We express the joy of our love when we touch. We share our bodies with each other and glimpse paradise at each sweet moment. How can something that feels so close to divine be considered so wicked?

If Satan is deceiving us with false paradise, then we are doomed. I am doomed. I will never surrender my love ever again.

Never ever again.

The bottle of rum sat on the floor by the bed, in easy reach, but it was forgotten for now. Right then, right at that moment, James only knew his love for Jack. He could only feel Jack's flesh on his own. Their bodies moving, sliding, surging, rolling like the inexorable tide, became the focal point of James' entire being. Jack held one of James' hands down on the bed, above their heads, their fingers intertwined. Their pricks, pressed between their bodies, moved against each other, sparking fire like flint strikes. And amidst all this, James told Jack of his love in a breathless, ardent whisper.

Jack had teased him before about how chatty James could become while they made love. However, Jack had also expressed to him that he loved to hear his Jamie's soft words of passion.

"Yes, sweetling," Jack chuckled warmly against James ear. "I'm all yours, to be sure."

Jack's chuckle turned throaty and provocative and it made a shiver run down James' spine. He loved it when Jack purred like that. It made his pirate lover seem so much more feral.

Jack lifted off of James, leaving his flesh cooling, even the palm and fingers of the hand Jack had held, but James wasn't concerned or disappointed. He knew what Jack was up to. He watched as Jack dove across the bed and reached over and under to retrieve a small pot that contained the salve Jack like to use to smooth the way. James let himself be pliable when Jack spread his open thighs wider still.

When Jack smoothed the first dollop of the salve against James' tender opening, James' sigh was nearly a coo of delight. His breathing was deep and shuttering, and he whispered sweet encouragements to his pirate-love. James trembled beneath tender kisses on his lips, neck and chest, as Jack's fingers stroked slowly inside him. James happily gave himself over to Jack's touch. Jack's fingers opened him in preparation.

Jack had shown things to James about his own body that he had never known or realized before. James had never known that within his body lay a pleasure point, so sensitive and so responsive that he could just about ride the wave of its pleasure to sweet oblivion without ever laying hands on his member. James had never realized that pleasure could be taken so very high. When Jack at last pierced him with his ready shaft, James bit his lip and breathed out to ride out the slight discomfort. He relaxed more, tilting his hips up and his thighs open, even more so.

Then Jack was moving, dancing inside James. James reached out to smooth his hand slowly down Jack's lean, strong chest, feeling muscles flex like rock beneath the hot velvet of sun-kissed skin. James' fingertips traced the lines of a tattoo, some intricate Oriental pattern. He touched Jack's chin with a loving caress across the round red mark just to the right of his braided beard.

But, mostly, James looked up into his lover's eyes as they moved together. And with his eyes alone, James tried to convey how deep his love ran. He saw the depths of a storm in Jack's eyes. Darkness that promised to hold him fast and never let go lived there. But it was not an evil darkness. It was a secret darkness that held only James, like a flame against eternal night; a sweet secret held close. James embraced it as his body surrendered to bliss.

Jack came inside him. Jack's hand had milked the seed from him scant seconds before and James was still trembling from the plunge into pure oblivion after such a soul-searing high.

My James is quite the romantic. If I could have a Spanish doubloon for every time he says he loves me when we are on the mattress, I could buy me another ship, almost as fine as the Pearl.

Now, I'm not one to complain, 'specially since I'm the one who started it with the first 'I love you' and all.

For now, my James is just sleepy, snuggled against me and snoozing, which is also fine with me. More rum for myself.

"And the shine of love be new." Words Gibbs had said to him when Jack told him of his love for James. Often the shine of the new is brighter than reality. Time and again that shine wears away and then what's left is not as appealing.

Jack let soft strands of dark chestnut hair slip between his fingers as he contemplated the man sleeping at his side. What of James would wear soon on Jack?

Playin' the mother hen and tellin' me when to drink, when to bathe, when to swear, or what to eat... not that he's done much of that. But he has hinted. I could live with much else, but I don't take kindly to changing me ways so late in the game, mate. I am what I am.

He is what he is. He's clean and proper. He's a gentleman at heart, and there really is no hiding it. How will he feel about our first proper raid together? Will he balk like a stubborn mule?

Fortunately, we haven't a pressing need for finances thanks to ol' Hector's effectiveness and productivity. However, there is a matter we should discuss that will involve him in a bit of illegal activity. I'll be needin' the information that only the ex-commander of Port Royal's little fort would have.

I guess I should brace myself for some bluster, mate.

And when the shine finally wore itself off, what then? Would James resent him? Would he blame him for a life among the fallen? Would James leave him? Would he walk away after Jack gave him back life and freedom?

Those thoughts were more painful than Jack had expected and he took a deep swallow of rum to burn away the aching emptiness in the pit of his gut. His mind, unbidden, conjured an image of James sailing away on some a bonny sloop, laughter in his eyes and that Groves swab in his arms. They were laughing at Jack as he flailed in a cold, unforgiving sea.

Jack blinked the image away and looked down once more at the man sleeping at his side. This was the reality. James was here right now. His romantic James had said he loved him so many times that night alone. James would be there tomorrow, awake at some ungodly hour, poking him and telling him to rise and shine. James would probably smile when Jack curses him, as well as the wave he shipped in on, for a sod-eating bastard. James would more than likely start the day anyway, lighting lamps and getting his toilette underway, possibly having a thorough shave. James would almost assuredly laugh when Jack tells him to bugger off, when James makes his last appeal. Then, unsuccessful this time, James would kiss his head and leave Jack to his own devices.

Jack stoppered the rum and put it back next to the bed. He scooted down into the blanket until he was lying next to James. James sighed and snuggled in closer still. Jack smiled, closing his eyes and wrapping an arm about his love.

The shine of love was still new, and Jack decided to just enjoy it while it lasted.

Dead Men Tell No Tales

Chapter 2