Chapter 8:  Anything

 

Despite heading toward this “Chest of Davy Jones” that would help free James, André was not comforted.  Hate flared inside him every time he saw Jack touching James, which the captain had the habit of doing all too often and intimately.  And André also hated how James reacted to Jack’s touch.

Jack appeared to know exactly how to touch James to get a desired reaction, and that fact was driving André mad.  André was growing to hate Jack more and more each day, and he even found himself hating James for a few moments when he would lean into Jack’s touch or follow Jack into his cabin.

And because it seemed to be the only way to truly gain James’ attention, André confronted him below decks again when James was coming down from the captain’s cabin late one night.

“André!”

André could not help but smirk slightly as James guessed who it was before André had even said a word.  “Jamie.”

James growled softly, but said nothing about the nickname.  “What are you doing?  Are you drunk again?”  He tried to maneuver out of André’s grasp on his arms, but André held him firmly against the wall.

“You are much better than this, James,” he said quietly.  “Don’t you see?  It hurts so much to…to see you bowing to Jack’s every whim.”

“He is my captain—.”

“And he uses you as a whore!”  André flinched at the harshness in his own voice.  “James, please…you’re a Commodore of the Royal Navy.  Not a pirate’s pet.  And it hurts…I can’t bear seeing you like this.”

“And what would you have me do, André?”

“Don’t allow him to have such control over you.  You’re worth so much more than that.”  James sighed heavily.  “We’re so close, James.  So close to saving you.”

“Yes.”

André’s brow furrowed at the sad tone in James’ voice.  “What’s wrong, James?”

After a brief pause, James responded, “The Navy won’t want me back.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course they will,” André contradicted, despite the fact that he doubted that it was the real reason for James’ sadness.  “You’re the best Commodore they’ve ever had.”

“You’re exaggerating.”  James sighed again.  “I’m a pirate, André.  A thief and a liar.”

“No, no, you’re not!” André said quickly.  “Most certainly not.”

“And a whore, as you said.”

“James,” André breathed.  “Don’t lose all your hope.  I’m going to help you.  Jack won’t harm you.  I won’t let him.”

André wondered what James was thinking as the two fell silent.  For a while, they merely stood together in the dark, with André still grasping his arms and with James’ back to the wall.  Then André was shocked when he realized that James was trembling, and he heard a small sob that James failed to hide.

“I’m so sorry, André,” James said.  “I…I’m sorry.”

“Shh, James,” André said, moving closer and cautiously reaching to him to wipe away his tears.  “James, none of this is your fault.”

“I lied, André.”

André froze, wondering what James was talking about.  “Lied?”

“Yes.”

André licked his lips.  “About?”

“Jack isn’t going to kill me.  I’m not going to die if we don’t find the chest.”  André shook his head in confusion.  “I lied in hope that it would make the compass work for you.  And it did.”

André swallowed hard.  “Why?  I thought…”

“To save you.”

André’s breath caught in his throat.  James really cared about him—but he had also lied to him.  That was not like James at all.  “And you?”

“I’m staying here.  There’s nothing you can do for me, André.”

Everything I’ve done…I’ll fail.  No, I can’t fail, I will save him…  But André could not help but wonder how to save someone who did not want to be saved.  “James…”  André coughed when his voice cracked and tears filled his eyes.  “Why?  Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because you can’t!” James snapped.  “I’ve told you before!  Get off this ship.  There’s no life for me back in Port Royal.  At least here I have captain who cares about me.”

So I’m not worth as much as Jack.  André tried to speak, but found that he could not.  He stared blankly at James’ chest and the tattoo that he could barely make out in the darkness.

“André?” James said hesitantly.  “Could you…say something?  Please, André, try to understand.  You have a wonderful future ahead, and I want to help you get back to it.  And I have a new life here.  It’s not so bad for me, really.”

“And what’s so good about being a deckhand who serves a drunk pirate?” André asked quietly.

“He…”  James took a deep breath.  “I…damn.”  James put a hand to his head.  “I don’t know what to do, André.  I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“André…Jack, he…he truly does care about me.”  André scoffed disbelievingly.  “He loves me, André!” James snapped.

“No, he doesn’t,” André said quickly.  “He doesn’t.  Is that why you think you should stay?”

“He told me, André.”

“To stay?”

“That he loves me!”

André’s heart pounded and he felt his heart drop into his stomach.  Jack was lying, of course.  But James…  “No wonder you don’t want me around.  It doesn’t matter how horrible he is to you or to me.  You…”  André gulped.  “You love him.”

The silence after this statement was unbearable.  André did not even breathe as he waited for James to respond.  He hoped that James would quickly deny it…but James remained silent.

“You do,” André breathed in disbelief.  “He uses you and you love him?”

James turned his head away.  “He doesn’t use me.  Not really.  Recently, yes, but only because he feels that his relationship with me is threatened.”

“By me rescuing you?”

There was a brief silence.  “By me loving you,” James admitted quietly.

André’s eyes widened and his heart raced.  He did not dare believe what he had just heard for fear of him hearing incorrectly.  James tried to move past André.  “I’m sorry, André.”

“For what, sir?” André asked, catching James by the arm.

“I…”

André would later be unable to recall who moved toward the other first, but André was too preoccupied with the mouth devouring his to care.  James backed him up to the wall, his hands holding André’s face as André entangled a hand in James’ hair, pulling him closer.

And then André realized:  James loved him.

Perhaps James, for some inexplicable reason, loved Jack, but he did love André.  James Norrington loved André Gillette.

André forced himself not to take James’ comment as a proclamation of undying love, but whatever love James had for him…  Wow.

Logical thought soon left André as the kiss continued to deepen and James’ body pressed against his.  André moaned wantonly into James’ mouth as James pushed his thigh between André’s legs.  But his eyes suddenly snapped open and he put his hands on James’ chest, pushing him away enough to break the kiss.

James panted, his eyes flickering in the dark.  “André?”

“Sir…James…I need you to know.  I love you.  I always have, and I always will.  I just…I wanted to be sure that you…”

“I know, André.”

“Then please let me help you, James.  Let me free you.”

“I…I don’t…”

“I would do anything for you, James.”

“André…”

“Shh.  Listen to me.  Anything.  If…if, for any reason, you don’t want to be rescued, I will stay here.  With you.  Or anywhere else, or be—anything.”

“André…I appreciate everything you have done for me, but I am not worth your devotion.”

“Don’t say that!” André exclaimed, pulling James closer to him.  “It is an honor to serve with you, a privilege to be your friend, and, God, I can’t express my love for you, or what your love for me…what it…how it feels.”  André was relatively certain that James was blushing, and he decided to continue stoking James’ damaged ego.  “I have never met a more courageous man, nor a more handsome one,” he said shyly, gently trailing his fingers over James’ bare chest.

“I still don’t believe that I’m worth—.”

“You are,” André interrupted, gently pressing his lips to James’ again.  “When we find the chest, what will happen?” André said when they parted.

“Jack will trade the contents for his…for all our…freedom.  When we stop in a port, you can go—.”

“And you?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Come with me.”

James swallowed hard.  “I…I think I might.”

“You can get your life back.  And I will always be there for you, with you…”

“But André…I love him.  I love Jack, too.”  James took a step away from André.  “I-I can’t just leave him.  I can’t do that.”

André looked down at his feet.  It was as he feared.  James did love Jack.  He loved André, too, which was more wonderful than anything André could ask for in the whole world.  But he did not want to share James with Jack.

James moved closer again, lifting André’s chin and kissing him again.  “But I love you, André,” he breathed as he nibbled at André’s ear.

“I love you too, James.”

André felt James smile against his neck, apparently unused to having anyone openly tell him that.  André wrapped his arms around James, holding his body closer to him.  He was acutely aware of the growing tension in his groin, and he allowed his mind to drift into a fantasy that included James taking care of said tension.

Then André realized that the hardness he felt against his leg was not in his imagination.  James was kissing him more fiercely now, his body pinning André’s to the wall.  André moaned as a hand moved down to cup the bulge in his breeches.  “James,” he gasped into the man’s mouth.

“We shouldn’t…” James muttered, even as his hands began unlacing André’s breeches.  André blinked rapidly, trying to keep hold of some of his senses.

“But?”

“But…”