Heaven's A Lie

Joints creaked across unaccommodating floorboards as he sighed to himself, the pirate's words echoing across his vengeful mind: 'Dunn'ae say I failed t'offer when ye'r rolling across t'Cabin tonight.' Silently he pounded the stubborn jacket down into a formidably comfortable makeshift pillow and allowed the waves of sleep to slowly overcome him to the tune of Jack's light snores.
Tanned features jolted awake in the early morning light and a half clothed Sparrow scampered across the chilled room. Peering over the side of the desk he noted the other sleeping form and silently thanked himself for not sleeping in the nude. Not that he had anything to be embarrassed about, but he wasn't exactly sure if James was ready for the kind of exposure Jack had in mind.
Tightening his breeches a foot reached out to tap an unsuspecting shoulder. Once. Twice. Three times. 'Jesus Jackson he sleeps 'eavier than ye'.' Joints creaked as he crouched over the Admiral, pointer and thumb pinching paled nostrils closed. Smirking with a gentle laugh his other hand moved to cover a half open... his eyes widened, drooling mouth. The previously silent man wretched, batting the pirate off of him.
“For fucks sake!” James rolled over, eyes red from lack of proper sleep and chest heaving. “You could kill a man that way!” His eyes roamed momentarily over the other's naked torso, before returning to Jack's face.
Jack stood, hands on his hips and toothy smile adorned on his face. “I know.” Bare feet padded across the floorboards to a small wardrobe, garments flying across the room. “I woke ye' up t'tell ye' I'm gettin' up and ye'r free t'use t'bed in me abscence.”
James yawned, scratching the back of his head and propped himself lazily up on one elbow. “Now, let me get this lack of logic straight. You woke me up to tell me that firstly: your awake and secondly: to go back to sleep?!”
Jack paused, standing upright over the pile of clothing and offered a golden smile to James. “Aye!” A brow arched as he dug through, “Ah!” Clothing flew across the room only to be stopped by James' face.
Pulling the veil of darkness from his eyes his brows knotted together. “Breeches.”
“And a shirt!”
Darkness again. “Thank you Jack.” He spoke through the clothing, not wishing to view his captor.
“Not a problem t'all Jamie.” Moving to the man he pulled the shirt from his face and offered him a hand, “It'll be a few months until we reach out heading, mate. I'll be givin' ye' t'day t'rest up, after that ye' better be able t'show me ye' can still climb t'ropes.”
James closed his eyes as the obstructing fabric was pulled free and a still shirtless Captain graced his vision. “These long legs weren't made for lounging, Jack.” Moving to his feet he towered over Jack and smirked, “Your too short to be Captain.”
Jack pouted, “It's not t'length of t'Captain, it's t'width that counts.”
A brow raised, “Width of?”
“Pah! Never ye' mind Jamie.” Grasping a shirt from the pile he shoved the remaining garments back into the wardrobe and headed for the door. “If ye' think back a few months, ye'll understand.”
James flustered, “That was once. And-”
“Ye' liked it!”
“AND I was VERY drunk. To your advantage.” James crossed his arms over his chest, moving to fall into the sheets. “You'll never rightfully have me. Not with the game you've been playing anyways.”
Pursed lips signified his exit and the slamming of the door.
James curled himself up in the blankets, the goose flesh soon dissipating. He inhaled deeply, the scent of pipe tobacco and rum bringing a smile to his face. The smile left as soon as it came, the improperness of his thoughts subjecting them to immediate advocation. The rocking of the ship lulled him quickly to sleep, the creaking bringing dreams of the one night he'd shared with the pirate back.

[And so began the reoccuring flashback. That should be in italics. But isn't.]

'James Lysander Norrin'ton! Wot in t'bloody blazes are ye' doin 'ere?”
The familiar voice brought him out of his drunken reverie, bottle swaying to his lips for a dribbling sip. Placing the bottle to the table he offered a half hearted smile. “Jack Sparrow, I'm in no mood for your illogical droning. I'm far too intoxicated to even attempt to deci-hicc decipher your nonsensical cacophony of words.”
Jack jingled into the seat, waving the barmaid over to bring him another drink. “All t'more reason f'er me t'be stickin' around then!” The barmaid brought over a worn mug and Jack took it, sipping at it greatly.
“It all happened after the wedding.”
Jack's eyes widened and brows raised, “Ah, young Mister Turner and the misses I presume.”
“Thats what I said, buffoon.” The bottle shook to his lips, threatening to spill over onto the table at any moment. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he continued, “After they got married I couldn't hicc- couldn't seem to help myself. And, like any man with far too much money I turned to drinking.”
Jack reached over the table, grasping the bottle from the newly re-instated Commodore. As a paled hand flew to protest Jack raised a finger and sniffed at it, “Blackberry Brandy. Just was curious as t'ye'r drink o'choice. S'all.” He handed the bottle back and sipped at his own drink.
“Now with word of a new promotion, I've got to give up the drink in order to keep up with the const-hicc constant influx of paperwork. Seems tonights my last night of drunken stupor.”
“Ah, and ye'r out t'get as drunk as possible I assume?”
“Precisely!” He rose the bottle and clanked it with Jack's mug, finishing the contents in moments.
“That doesn't tell me why ye'r all t'way in Tortuga, mate.” Jack watched the Commodore lean to his severe right until he eventually fell to the floor. Sighing he finished the last of his drink and pushed a few gold bits into the passing barmaids palm. Standing he took the large man over his shoulder and with effort dragged him outside, managing to steer clear of the brawl in the middle of the Tavern.
Jack jangled across the street to Scarlett's and with great frustration managed to open the door. “Scarlett! Now I know what ye'r gonna do an' I swears I meant t'come sooner. But as ye' can see I got me hands full with me mate here.”
Scarlett seemed taken aback and with a purse of her lips pushed a key into Jack's awaiting palm. “I'll expect the fee in the mornin', Jack.”
Jack smiled thankfully to her and made his way up the rickety stairs, guessing at the barely memorized footing. Glancing at the key he made his way to the second door on the right and jiggled the handle open with mere luck. Closing the door with his heel he tossed the other onto the bed and watched with a smirk as he bounced a bit. Locking the door he kicked his boots off and moved to light the lamp, the Commodore stirred slightly at the sudden invasion of light.
An evil grin crossed his face as he sashayed towards the sleeping form. And what better way to wake him? Moving his butterfly fingers across the Naval torso he undid the buttons pushing the clothing aside to reveal scarred and tattooed skin, the most surprising one not yet visible.