But From Thine Eyes

or, Between Love and Hate

Chapter 4

by

Teardrop69

"Sparrow! This is your doing. You had absolutely no intention of letting me get on that ship, and sailing to Port Royal. Admit it!" James fumed at the cheery countenance upon Jack's face.

"Now James, that's jus' plain untrue. Ye couldn't sail with the Song, as she weren't bound for Port Royal just yet." Jack thought this was a perfectly reasonable explanation. "I have no intention of breakin' me word to ye, and I did say I'd make sure ye were on the Song before she sailed for Port Royal."

"You're a bloody liar." James stalked back to the cabin and slammed the door behind him.

Jack sighed and watched the door moodily for a few minutes before walking up to the helm. He gave AnaMaria a half-hearted shrug, and she nodded, then gave the command to weigh anchor and set sail. Once they were moving, and AnaMaria had them on the correct heading, she turned the Pearl's wheel back over to her brooding captain. She had overheard the commodore's portion of the earlier exchange, and she knew that although Jack might have bent the truth a bit, as Jack saw it, he'd been as honest with the commodore as the situation would allow.

AnaMaria waited until Jack was deep in conversation with Gibbs, then she went to have a word with the commodore. She knocked on the door, and when there was no answer from inside, she squared her shoulders and entered anyway. Her eyes searched the cabin warily, and she found the commodore at the windows, watching as the water began to slide by. He turned when he heard her footsteps; he'd been expecting Jack, and the lighter step had surprised him. He watched her approach, and then turned back to the window.

"What do you want?" he asked churlishly.

AnaMaria bristled, but her voice showed no sign of it. "You're mad at Jack for something he doesn't really have any control over, you know."

James harrumphed. "So he's a compulsive liar. That shouldn't come as a surprise."

AnaMaria kept a tight grip on her irritation. "Jack actually doesn't lie all that often, to be true. He usually relies on other folks to disbelieve the truth." She gave him a rather pointed look, wasted on the back of his head. "What I meant was, Jack is Jack. He wasn't about to send you into Tortuga with the Turners. You'd be dead before you left the docks. You do have somewhat of a reputation among pirates, after all. He can't control that fact, and he can't control that it's in his nature to protect those that end up in his care who need protecting."

James had had no intention of listening to explanations, but when he heard the name Tortuga, his head had snapped around to stare at AnaMaria. "What in heaven's name did they go to Tortuga for? And by all that's holy, why did they let Elizabeth go?" He looked outraged.

"First of all, you should have seen by now that there's very little of 'letting' Miss Elizabeth do anything. She's turning into a fine pirate." AnaMaria couldn't help tweaking the commodore's nose with that statement. "Secondly, they've been there any number of times, or so I've heard, and there are rumors that they have made quite a few impressive contacts there. Thirdly, their reasons for going to Tortuga are not mine to tell, so if you're wanting to know, you'll have to ask Jack."

She paused for a moment, and then asked, "Do you want me to send Jack down? Or did you plan on sulking for a while longer?"

"Sulking? I am not sulking. I'm merely concerned that there are people unnecessarily worried about me back at Port Royal, and want to return there with all haste so as to put their minds at rest." James crossed his arms, and looked down his nose at the pretty pirate lass. "And by all means, send your treacherous captain along. I suddenly find myself having more words for the blighter."

"Never mind, then. If you're just going to do your best to make him feel worse, then you can just sit here and stew in your own juices for the next little bit." AnaMaria gave him a charming smile, and then left him to his own devices. As she walked out the door, she couldn't resist one last parting shot. "Oh, and we'll be stopping for a few days at a quiet little cove Jack is fond of. We've a need to refill some water casks and the boys want some fresh meat. You might as well enjoy your holiday, Commodore, because it's not quite over yet." She closed the door behind her.

Oh yes, I'm definitely going to hang the man. James gritted his teeth, and turned back to the window. He struggled to get his anger under control. Why has this made me so furious? I wasn't this angry when Cooper threw me in my own brig. His eyes followed the pattern in the water created by the passing of the Pearl. I suppose it could be because even though I didn't know the man was a traitor and a murderer, I'd never given him my trust. I barely knew him and it was my own inattention that ended me on that island. And I trusted Jack? Why would I ever do something so stupid? He tapped his fingers on the sill of the window, and a tiny voice inside his head piped up. Because he's a good man. "Oh shut up, you." James huffed a sigh. He felt some of his anger draining away. If what AnaMaria said was true, then he grudgingly admitted that Tortuga was the last place he should be going in his condition, or maybe at all. And if it wasn't true? I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

James was still angry, however, and instead of going to confront Jack, he decided that he'd wait until he'd calmed down a good deal more. He turned to the shelf of books, and chose a volume of Shakespeare's sonnets. Jack was probably going to keep on surprising him; he'd not expected to find the Bard's works on a pirate ship. Then again, he hadn't thought Jack would know how to read, either. Wondering if Jack had learned informally or he'd had any kind of formal schooling, he pulled the captain's chair over to the windows, and sat down to read.

Later, when James heard the ship's anchor being dropped, he returned the book to its shelf. He'd regained his temper quite some time earlier, but had found himself enjoying the luxury of just sitting alone, with nothing pressing waiting for his attention, and reading for hours. Now, however, he crossed the cabin and walked out on deck, getting his bearings. He was a bit amazed by the sight he saw, however, and wondered exactly where they'd dropped anchor.

They were at rest in a cove; a small river emptied into it, and in the distance, above the foliage, he could see a waterfall that splashed down a cliff face. And I couldn't have been marooned here, why?, he thought with wry humor. Several members of the crew were already in the process of lowering the longboat, and Jack, Gibbs and AnaMaria were standing not far away, talking quietly. Jack looked up as James appeared from the cabin, and with a word to the other two, he squared his shoulders and rather warily approached James. James frowned at the cautious look in Jack's eyes; he wasn't sure why, but it bothered him that Jack was hesitant to approach him.

When Jack drew near and began to speak, however, his tone was conciliatory, if a bit restrained. "Are ye goin' to be bashin' me over the 'ead again, mate? Or can we skip that bit o' foolishness and jus' go ashore?" He gave James a small smile.

"I'll make you a deal, Sparrow..."

"Jack?" Jack coaxed.

"Jack. As I said, I'll make you a deal. If you will tell me exactly what we're doing here, and why you didn't tell me the Turners were going to Tortuga, I'll go ashore with you. I will even try to restrain my violent tendencies." James gave Jack a level look.

Jack sighed. "All right, mate. But that be two requests, and ye'll 'ave to ante up another concession if ye be wantin' both."

James had a feeling he was stepping into a trap, but what the hell. For whatever reason, he did trust Jack. How bad could it really be? "Very well. Name your terms."

The sparkle that leapt to Jack's eyes, and the smile that broke over his face both gratified and worried James. "Ye'll get drunk with me tonight."

James groaned. "Surely you're not serious?"

Jack nodded emphatically. "Take it or leave it, mate."

"I'm going to regret this. I know I'm going to regret this." James ran his hand through his hair.

"Splendid!" Jack flashed him a smile of gold, and his eyes were dancing merrily as he ushered James over to where the longboat waited.

When they reached shore, the pirates began to take the water casks further into the trees to fill them from a spring that emptied into the small river. Jack pointed up the beach, and started walking, which left James to follow. Once they were away from the beached longboat, Jack let himself sink to the sand and sat cross-legged, motioning for James to join him. James set next to him, and then waited for Jack to begin at his own pace.

"So, what do ye want to know exactly?" Jack picked up a handful of sand, and let it slowly sift out from between his fingers.

"Why did the Turners head off to Tortuga instead of Port Royal? They didn't mention a side trip, and I was under the impression they were on their way back to visit Governor Swann." James picked up a shell, and began to turn it over in his fingers.

Jack sifted another handful of sand. "They're goin' to find some information on your Myrmidon," he said quietly.

James looked at him sharply. "You're serious? Those two aren't really well equipped to be taking such chances by themselves."

Jack laughed. "Luv, they've been in and out of Tortuga any number of times. I didn't like it much meself, when I found out, but there it is. They are a savvy twosome. They complement each other." He glanced at James. "Jus' like any good couple should."

James remembered Jack's glances at young Turner and the previous evening's meal, and figured Jack was remembering the times he and Will had worked side by side to overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles. He sighed. "You believe they'll be alright." It wasn't a question, so much as a hope.

Jack nodded. "Aye, I do. So, your next question?"

James was still fiddling with the shell he'd picked up. "So why are we here?"

"That's a question for the ages, mate," Jack grinned over at him.

"You know what I mean. Why did we stop here? There was enough water to get us to Port Royal, if we're only two days out. And for that matter, where is 'here', anyway? I don't remember an uninhabited island within two days' sailing of Port Royal." James had just realized this fact.

Jack leaned back on his elbows and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. He'd removed his boots back at the longboat, and his bare feet were covered in sand.

"I wanted to 'ave the information before we returned ye home. Ye never know when a piece of information ye don't 'ave can cost ye dearly. As for where we are... well, it occurred to me a while after I'd got me Pearl back that if there be one island that can't be found by ordinary means, there might be more. Yer lookin' at one o' them. I call it La Isla de los Sueños. The Isle of Dreams... fittin' ain't it? Compared to Isla de la Muerta, this be a dream. Jus' don' ask what I 'ad to do to find this one." Jack tilted his head back and closed his eyes, basking in the afternoon sun.

James sat quietly digesting this bit of news. His gaze kept being drawn to Jack, reluctantly admiring the pagan way Jack seemed to be worshipping the sun. After a while, Jack began to get restless; they stood and James dropped his shell, brushing the sand from his clothes. He didn't notice Jack pick up the shell he'd dropped and tuck it safely into a pouch that hung at his waist before they made their way back to where the longboat was being loaded with casks.

*****

When the stories started, James let his mind begin to wander. He sat across the fire from Jack, but he kept his part of the bargain, and when the rum was passed his way, he'd take a swallow before passing it on. He had to admit, once the bottle had been by a few times, he was beginning to enjoy himself. He leaned back against a fallen tree trunk that had been pulled over for just this purpose. He was still rather surprised that Jack had been so candid with him earlier, but he was feeling far too mellow at this point to dwell on it.

James wondered how long they'd be staying at anchor here, this island that for all reasonable purposes was hidden from the world. The real question was how long it would take the Turners to hunt up the information they were looking for. He was in the middle of these musings when a burst of laughter pulled him from his reverie. He pulled his attention back to the party, and AnaMaria who was the current storyteller.

"...and of course, Jack couldn't just let the dog go, and the next thing I knew I was on my arse in a pen full of pig shit. And by the time I got myself cleaned up, Jack had returned the dog, and taken off with my boat." She gave Jack a glare, while the rest of the men were slapping their knees and howling with laughter.

"And I'll get ye another boat, a better boat, ye've my word on it," Jack swore with a grin and a flourish of his hand. This only caused another burst of laughter, and a wry grin from AnaMaria.

James reckoned he'd have to get the beginning of that story sometime in the future. But now, the party started to deteriorate into random talking and jokes and laughter, and his head was pleasantly spinning. Jack had come over to James, and offered him a hand up. James took it without thinking, not even stopping to wonder where they were off to. Jack grabbed the bottle of rum that had been sitting beside him, and after tugging on James's arm, began walking up the beach in the direction they'd gone earlier. AnaMaria watched them go with a slight smile on her face, and then turned back to Gunn, who was telling her a joke about a shepherdess and a knight errant.

Jack, meanwhile, was leading James past the spot where they'd talked earlier in the day. Strutting up the beach with his usual swaying walk, he reached a strand of boulders that jutted out into the water and began to climb over. James watched him scramble over the rocks, a faintly doubtful look on his face, but since Jack didn't stop, and James had consumed just enough rum to make night-time rock climbing with an injured leg and a broken arm seem reasonable, he carefully picked a path along behind him.

Once they reached the other side, James took in the new scene; a small lagoon with a tiny beach waited here, sheltered by the rocks they'd just climbed on one side and another larger arm of rock on the other. The barest sliver of moon was just beginning to rise up out of the sea, and the gentle hiss of the waves on the sand added a counter-point to his slightly quickened heartbeat and breathing, thanks to the brief climb. Jack had already settled himself in the sand, and was casually taking a pull from the rum bottle.

James silently followed suit, sitting next to Jack. He watched the moon sail higher, accepting the bottle from Jack when it was offered. He just held the bottle, though, not taking a drink. James wasn't a fool, and he had a pretty good idea of why Jack had brought him here; that wasn't really in question. The real questions were much less black and white. How did he feel about this? Should he go through with it? Would he regret it? Could he blame it on the rum tomorrow? And why was Jack just sitting there, making no move?

Maybe I've got the wrong idea altogether. Perhaps he just was tired of the noise, and wanted a bit of quiet. James glanced at Jack. Jack was still watching the moon rising, his fingers tugging and twirling the two braids that decorated his chin. James lost himself in thought again. How do I feel about this? It's not something I can just undo later on. And for that reason alone, I need to be sure. Another glance at Jack, who had leaned back on his elbows, assuming the same posture he'd had earlier in the day while soaking up the sun. James's pulse quickened at the sight. The man is a bloody sensualist. He drinks up the sun and the moon with equal delight. He's a pagan to the core, a creature of desires and boldly determined to fulfill all of them.

James continued to ponder. If I do this, it would be idiocy, not to mention cowardly, to try and assign blame later on. The rum is no excuse; I may be a bit more ... relaxed ... than normal. But hardly drunk, and definitely not impaired enough to claim I didn't know what I was doing. He hadn't stopped watching Jack, and when Jack rolled to his side, propped his head up with one arm bent at the elbow and his soulful eyes met James's own, James caught his breath. He knew. There was a challenge there in Jack's eyes. He's waiting for me. It's my choice. What kind of pirate does this? He already knew the answer to that one. It had become his mantra. A good man.

Something warmed inside of James. He reached out; put his palm on Jack's cheek, rubbing his thumb across that full bottom lip. His mouth twitched in a half smile, and then he leaned forward and claimed Jack's lips with his own. Jack let out a small growl, but didn't move; his lips parted as James sucked on the bottom lip he'd traced just moments before. James took advantage of Jack's yield, and let his tongue explore Jack's mouth. He noticed the addicting taste of coconut and rum once more. Jack captured his invading tongue, sucking gently; James's cock leapt to attention at the sensation, and he could hear his own breathing quicken. He tangled his hand in Jack's shirt, pulling him closer.

Jack had no objections; quite the opposite, in fact, and let himself be drawn towards James. Their tongues met and retreated; an erotic dance, a sensual fencing match that neither cared who won. Both men were panting with shallow breaths when Jack drew back to look at James. He seemed to search James face for something, and apparently satisfied, his brown eyes seemed to warm even more. Something James couldn't name had crept into that gaze, something he wanted to keep there.

"Alright, then, mate?" Jack asked.

"Actually, I don't think so." James gave him a look. Jack held his breath at that, until, "I think we're wearing too many clothes."

Jack's eyes crinkled with the beaming smile that lit his face. "That be easy enough to fix, luv."

Jack began to remove clothing, piece by piece, and James watched with fascination as each piece was discarded. He was enthralled by the fact that Jack seemed to be golden all over; in addition to the sparrow swooping low on his arm, the tattoos here and there didn't so much mark his body as they decorated it. Several faded scars were also scattered across his torso; though the branded "P" below the sparrow tattoo caught James's eye, he noted it and then ignored it. A more recent scar ran from just under his right arm and across his chest, barely missing his nipple as it angled downward, ending dangerously close to his abdomen. James ran his fingers down that scar, causing Jack to pause; he noted with pleasure that Jack's cock was as hard as his own.

"Yer also a bit over-dressed, I'm thinkin'," Jack pointed out.

"I suppose I am, at that." James finished tracing that scar, and began to remove his own clothing. He was rather surprised at the lack of urgency; he'd expected that love play with a pirate would be all flash, like a lit pile of gunpowder. Instead, the heat grew gradually, and he was rather pleased it was so. There was time for more adventurous play later. He realized that this also was Jack's doing, giving him every chance to change his mind.

Jack removed his breeches, and moved to kneel in front of James; he helped James with buttons, as James's splinted arm still made this an awkward activity. With each button he opened, Jack pulled the shirt open, and leaned to kiss the exposed flesh. He continued in this way until he could push the shirt off of James's shoulders; he gently pushed James back into the sand, and removed his boots. James was dimly wondering why he wasn't a mewling mess by now.

And then Jack started the process over again with the buttons on James's breeches. A button opened, a matching nuzzle with those talented lips. James was sure he was going to go up in flames. He put his hand on Jack's head; his fingers skimming the red cloth band Jack wore to keep the hair from his eyes and finding the many baubles and trinkets there. Jack reached the last of the buttons, and then with hands on either of James's hips, pushed those breeches away with a decisive growl.

Jack crawled up James's body, stopping to lick and suck at one of the hipbones he'd admired days before, then continuing upwards until he reached his lips; James inhaled sharply when he felt Jack's erection slide across his, and then Jack claimed him for another of those heated kisses. James's good hand moved to the pirate's hip to grasp it firmly, and he awkwardly thrust upward to grind against him. He groaned into Jack's mouth as their cocks rubbed across each other again, a twin groan answering him. The pirate reached to grab James by the wrist and pulled it up above the man's head, and he pinned it there; James's other arm effectively trapped by the splint still in place there.

Jack slid his lips down to lick at the other man's collarbone; a quick lick and then a nip. James tilted his head to one side, silently requesting more of the same. Jack's low growl thrummed appreciatively, and he proceeded to lick, nip and kiss a maddeningly slow trail down James's body. A minor detour to each nipple, another nip and swirl of Jack's tongue, punctuated with a gasp. When he heard James moan deep in his chest, a yearning, pleading sound, he released James's wrist, and brought both hands to the man's hips. Another lick, nip, this one on the inside of James's thigh, and James spread his legs; Jack gave a pleased chuckle, and then James felt a warm puff of breath on his cock. He raised his head just in time to see, and feel, a warm, wet, velvet tongue swipe up his length, from base to flared head. His back arched, and he gave another moan, but his eyes didn't leave the exquisite sight of Jack between his legs. He nearly shattered when that warm wet mouth encircled his leaking cock, and with the first greedy, sucking pull, he was clutching at the sand.

It was all too brief a moment; James trembled as Jack's slim, calloused fingers stroked and cupped his balls, that warm swirling inferno moving up and down his cock. Every few strokes, Jack would stop to trace the head with his tongue, running along the underside before beginning the pattern all over again. When Jack's fingers began to massage the smooth skin behind his balls, James could feel them draw tight, and he tensed and clutched at the sand once more.

"Jack... not yet... please," James wasn't sure he was coherent, but Jack's talented, velvet mouth left his organ, and he retraced his journey back up James's body to kiss him deeply. He could taste himself in Jack's kiss, and this only enflamed him further. Jack fumbled briefly with his own pile of clothes without breaking the kiss; then he placed his hand in James's hand. He squeezed James's hand briefly, and when he brought his hand back to tangle in James's hair, he left behind a small metal flask.

Jack raised his head to look into James's eyes, and he saw the question there. "It's your call, luv. Yer in control 'ere."

The trust implicit in that statement stole James's breath away. He rolled, bringing Jack beneath him; moving down Jack's body, he imitated the journey the pirate had made down his. He trailed his tongue down the scar he'd traced with his fingers, and when he reached Jack's erection, a few drops of clear fluid leaking from it, he stopped. He sent Jack an unsure glance, but when he saw the heat in those eyes, his hesitation was gone. He took Jack's cock into his mouth, and was rewarded with a low moan. His tongue swiped those precious few droplets, tasting, considering, finally treasuring. Jack's hand fisting in his hair encouraged him, but after only a few moments, Jack's low moans begged him to stop.

James spread Jack's legs, sitting between his thighs; he opened the flask, and poured some of the oil inside into his uninjured hand. The whole process was clumsy, but only until the flask was discarded; with well-oiled fingers, he explored the Jack's cleft, running his fingers across the small opening hidden there. Once, twice... with each pass, Jack's cock twitched, until James pressed a finger firmly, slowly inside. Jack closed his eyes briefly, and then opened them, locking them to James's green ones.

"Alright, Jack?" James asked, finger pressing slowly deeper.

"Oh... aye, luv... gods, yes." Jack's voice was low and fervent.

James thrust a few times with that slick finger, and then carefully added another; marveling at the look of longing on Jack's face. He scissored his fingers as he thrust, stretching and preparing. With one of these movements, he grazed a spot; a small hard spot that caused Jack to arch his back, his eyes feverish, his teeth worrying his lower lip. James watched this reaction with utter fascination, and with another slight thrust, he grazed that spot again. Jack groaned loudly then started to babble, or so it seemed to James. Hot words, love words, dirty words. Begging words.

"James... Do it now, luv. Inside me, now." Jack's face was flushed, his warm cinnamon eyes pleading with James. A request James couldn't have denied if he'd wanted to. He slipped his fingers from Jack's warm body, and with all the speed he could manage, covered his own erect cock with more oil from the handy flask. The slick sensation of the oil excited him; the sight of Jack's hungry eyes, those sweet, hot words—they made him doubt he'd last for more than an instant. But he was going to pleasure them both or die trying.

James pressed the head of his cock against the opening to Jack's body, slowly driving forward. Jack whimpered, urging James on. A drop of sweat rolled down James's back, the effort of going slowly more difficult than anything he could have possibly imagined. Until Jack raised one leg, putting it up on James's shoulder.

"More, James," Jack nearly purred this request, and James complied. Sliding deeper, deeper, until he was fully sheathed.

"Oh God, Jack..." James closed his eyes and held his breath for just a moment. "Oh God..."

Jack bucked, and James's eyes flew open, and he saw the frenzy in the other man's eyes. Gripping Jack's hip with one hand, he began to thrust; slow, deep, penetrating thrusts. James hooked his elbow under Jack's other leg, putting this one on his shoulder as well. This changed the angle; now, with each thrust, he hit the spot that had Jack calling for the gods. He slid his hand down to Jack's weeping cock, and with oil still covering his hand, began to stroke in time with his gradually quickening thrusts. Jack wrapped a hand around the one that enclosed his hard length, letting James know what pleased him. James began to plunge with a wicked urgency; each nudge of James's cock drove Jack closer and closer to the edge of his world. And then he was falling; Jack rode the waves of his pleasure with a keening moan, the pulses of warm, pearly white roping to land across his belly. The rhythmic clenching of muscles around his own erection was too much for James, and his release was heralded with a wrenching groan, torn from the fabric of completion.

James was paralyzed for a brief, seemingly endless moment, held immobile by the exquisite ecstasy coursing through his body; and then, letting Jack's legs slide from his shoulders, he lowered himself onto Jack, seeking out his lips for an unhurried kiss, all the previous urgency spent for the time being. Jack wrapped his arms around James, content to let him catch his breath. After a while, Jack started to squirm, and James chuckled. Oh so slowly, he withdrew from Jack, earning him a protesting hum from the pirate. He rolled onto his side, and pulled Jack back against him.

"James, lad, ye have an absolute callin' for this sort of thing, that ye do," Jack proclaimed huskily.

James gave a snort of laughter. "I think that might be sacrilege, Jack. You're on the edge of blasphemy, I'm almost certain."

"What a load of tosh. Ye made me eyeballs spin, ye did. No shame in bein' good at somethin' me mum always said." Jack grabbed his shirt and breeches and wadded them up for a makeshift pillow, then laid his head on the edge, leaving enough room for James.

"I'm not sure she was talking about someone buggering her son," James answered in a dry tone. "I think I owe you, by the way."

Jack looked over his shoulder at James. "What do ye mean by that?"

James shrugged. "I didn't exactly get drunk with you, now did I?" He tried to sound casual.

Jack considered what James was telling him. "That's all right, luv. I think I came out ahead in our negotiations, all things considered." He grinned at James.

They lay there, tangled together, forever. Not nearly long enough. James snaked an arm around Jack's waist, as they lay spooned together. Jack shifted slightly, and gave a delicious purr. James pressed his face forward into Jack's mixture of tangled and corded hair and grinned. Jack would have been utterly charmed to see this expression; he'd seen the mocking, sarcastic smile on James face, he'd seen duty and responsibility, perhaps with the faintest flicker of distaste, and he'd seen passion. But he'd yet to see true delight, and it was a shame that he missed it just then.

Content, James was mostly asleep when he heard from the other side of consciousness a voice quietly murmur:

"A belt of straw and ivy buds
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my Love."

James struggled towards consciousness to listen, but if there was more, it was lost in the whisper of the waves and the mists of Morpheus.

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