This story was inspired by that lovely moment when Barbossa all but throws himself over the side of the Pearl looking for Jack. Oh, yes these two really hate each other, not!
Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own the pretty pirate captains or anything else from the movies. Actually it's probably a good thing because if I did no one would remain in their clothes long enough to get anything accomplished plot wise.
"And that was without even a single drop of rum."
Barbossa just looked at Jack with complete aggravation and stalked off. The man was absolutely infuriating! Why could he not refrain from constantly doing something stupid? Of course he really wasn't one to talk was he? He had made the stupid decision to come on this mission in the first place after all. Oh, and it was proving to be a very stupid decision indeed.
The throbbing of the wound pulled Barbossa from his thoughts and he made his way to the captain's cabin, his teeth clenched, as he tired his best not to noticeably limp. The last thing he needed from these people was pity. Quickly arriving at his destination he threw his coat onto the back of a chair, his legs trembling, he sat down heavily on the bed, gasping for breath. This was embarrassing! He was a ruthless cutthroat who had spent decades staying one sword swing away from the law and now he couldn't deal with an annoying flesh wound! Logically Barbossa concluded that he had been cursed for so long and then abruptly killed that he had simply forgotten how intense a feeling pain could really be. That didn't make his pride feel any less bruised though.
Pulling his leg onto the bunk he rubbed it gently trying to sooth it. He was so focused on his injury that it came as no surprise when he didn't notice another enter the cabin until they spoke up.
Barbossa turned his head to see Jack standing in the doorway.
"What's it to ye?"
Jack came over to the bunk and sat down.
"Let me see it," he said gently.
Barbossa didn't move.
"Either roll them up, Barbossa, or I will cut them off and I doubt you want me to do that to your best pair of breeches."
Barbossa sighed knowing he was defeated, rolling his eyes, he pulled up his pant leg to reveal a long gash smeared with blood.
"Hmm, one of Beckett's men has good aim."
Barbossa scowled. "Lucky hit that's all."
Jack merely nodded, walked over to a chest and began moving maps and assorted clothing around before pulling out a small box. Making his way back to the bed, he quickly set to work patching up his colleague.
"I trust ye've dealt with Master Turner?"
"Of course, dear William is safely tucked away in the brig and we can get back to more important matters."
"Aye, we can."
They fell silent for a moment both knowing that the way they planned on dealing with the matters at hand didn't mesh at all. Barbossa winced as Jack carefully finished bandaging the wound and pressed the bandages firmly into the plaster so they would remain in place.
"There now, should be fine so long as you refrain from anymore stupid stunts."
"Stupid stunts ye say? Well correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe I was the one launching myself over to my ship with the aide of a cannon."
Barbossa reached out and brushed his hand against Jack's shoulder. Jack flinched at his touch, light though it was. While he, luckily, hadn't torn his arm from the socket he had damaged something in there and it was beginning to ache.
Barbossa smiled knowingly. "So, ye're not as unscathed as ye would have others believe."
"Are any of us really?"
"Perhaps not, and seeing as we can't have ye showing up at the Brethren Court looking like a wounded bird I'll yet ye have use of the cabin."
"Well that's very kind-" Jack was cut off as Barbossa tossed a pillow off the bed.
"Ye can sleep on the floor tonight."
"Ah, as generous as that is I'd really much prefer my bed."
"What makes ye think it's your bed?"
"My ship makes it my bed, but I'm not opposed to sharing," Jack said wrapping his arm around Barbossa's shoulder.
Barbossa shrugged Jack off and glared at him. "Well fergive me, but I am rather disinclined to acquiesce to your request."
Unfazed Jack put his arm around Barbossa once more and pulled him close so that their faces almost touched. "That wasn't a request."
He kissed him then, softly, their lips barely touching, and as quickly as he had started Jack stopped, pulled back, and seemed content to merely stare at Barbossa.
Barbossa was never entirely sure how the next set of events unfolded. One moment he had been thinking up delightful ways to kill Jack for his stunt and the next minute he was the one doing the kissing. Slowly hesitantly as if he was afraid that going too fast would frighten his little sparrow away. He moved his arm around Jack's waist as Jack tightened his grip on his shoulders. Barbossa broke off the kiss looking at Jack as his fingers traced the line of the other captain's jaw.
"How do we always end up like this, Jack? I leave you for dead time and again, you shoot me and yet here we are…again."
"Time and tide, Hector, you stole my life I stole yours we're square."
"Think it's that easy do ye?"
"Is if you want it to be."
Barbossa licked his lips. "I do want it."
"Then perhaps we haven't yet reached our quota of stupid actions for the day?"
Barbossa answered by pushing Jack down on the bunk, careful to avoid his shoulder, and kissing him hard on the lips. Jack responded with equal enthusiasm, one hand reached up to pull Barbossa's hat and bandana off letting his hair fall freely around his face. His other hand reached down beneath the bunk trying to find the stash of liquor he'd put there. His hand tightened on the neck of a bottle just as Barbossa grabbed his wrist.
"No," he whispered, "I want to be with you without that."
Jack looked up into his eyes, filled with lust and longing.
"As you request, Hector."
It was with familiar ease that they come together. As if the events of the last several years had never occurred at all. Clothing was promptly discarded, revealing new areas of skin to touched and kissed. The deeper they went into re-discovering one another the more everything else seemed to slowly melt away. The world, with Beckett and Turner and plans that involved looking out for themselves alone, soon lay beyond the cabin door and for that one night they could not breach the defences.
Slowly the sun set and the moon rose over the ocean and spilled light through the window of the cabin illuminating two figures entwined on the bed. Still basking in the after glow Jack allowed his mind to wander, as Barbossa played with the trinkets in his hair. Young Mr. Turner should have escaped the brig by now so Jack thought he would give at least a few more hours to come up with some foolish scheme before he stepped in to steer the young man in the right direction, or wrong direction depending on one's point of view. In the meantime he was going to enjoy his new found pillow. He snuggled closer to Barbossa his head coming to rest in the crook of his neck, as Barbossa pulled the blanket around them both.