The supply deck: the deepest part of the ship. Since it's also the part of the ship that's always below the waterline, it was also the coolest—and darkest.

Lovino simply followed Antonio down the ladder into the darkness. Down here is where they kept their tools, dried foods, barrels of drinking water, and whatever other treasures or junk they manage to steal off their victims.

"Shine that light over here," said Antonio.

He started clearing some barrels and crates around a post. Once he'd cleared enough space for two people among the various boxes and crates, he took the lantern from Lovino and hung it on the nearby post.

"Isn't your trunk still upstairs?" asked Lovino.

"Yep!" Antonio handed the blanket to Lovino. "But it's not like I'll be able to get it down tonight in the dark. It can wait until tomorrow morning."

"You only brought one blanket."

"Oh yeah! How silly of me. I guess we'll have to share."

The smile Antonio provided told Lovino it was intentional, but he couldn't tell why. Meanwhile, Antonio was rummaging through some of the boxes and trunks that were laid out everywhere, pulling linens, clothes and coats out.

"What is all this junk, anyway?" said Lovino as he gestured to the boxes and crates.

"Oh, just various things we collected over the years. Sometimes we're rushed in our raids so we'll target specific houses and take whatever we can get our hands on. That included clothes and linens that we don't actually need." Antonio was setting the cloths down in the space he made. Lovino clued in that he was making a make-shift bed, so they wouldn't have to sleep on the floorboards.

And suddenly, that space for two looked a little too small.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

"I'm making a bed. Did you expect me to let you sleep on the floor?"

"Would you stop me from sleeping on the floor?"

"You won't be very comfortable."

"I thought that was the point."

Antonio sighed. "Well, suit yourself, my friend." He paused in order to look up at Lovino still standing behind him, still smiling in his coy manner. "Remember there will always be room beside me if you can't sleep."

Lovino felt his cheeks burn and turned around to lean against a barrel opposite Antonio. He continued to watch him make his bed and the bastard started humming as he did. Actually, he didn't mind the humming. Grandpa used to hum like that all the time, when he was working around the house.

He clutched his cross again.

Antonio was about done making a nest of linens and started to undress as Lovino watched. He watched as he lifted his shirt over his head, revealing lean muscle underneath honey-brown skin. His gaze moved up to the tousled brown hair, his moss-green eyes, and back down to his toned torso, and he felt heat spread through his lower abdomen and up to his cheeks.

Lovino looked away. Why was this man so damn attractive? Lovino was just a good catholic boy. The last thing he needed was Antonio to complicate things for him.

I could really go for some wine right now… "Do any of these barrels have wine in them?"

Antonio looked up and seemed to be thinking. "Uh, yes! There should be one somewhere." He started walking around the deck, inspecting the barrels in what little light the lantern provided. "I'm sure no one will mind us sneaking a little bit. Oh, here's one! Go into that crate over there. I found some crystal-ware in there earlier."

Lovino did as he was told and walked over to where Antonio was lifting a small barrel and laying it on top of another, larger barrel, so that the spout at the bottom could be easily accessed. The golden light from the lantern hit his skin just right to accentuate the the curves of his body…

Lovino shook his head to rid himself of these thoughts and to cool his burning skin. He wipes the glasses with his shirt to remove the dust that had collected on them, and passed one at a time to Antonio as he filled them. He took a long drag from the glass that was handed to him, emptied it with one gulp. He needed more. Antonio didn't wait to be asked to refill it, and this time, he filled it completely.

Why did Antonio have this effect on him? He'd only known the man for a week, but he somehow felt drawn to him from the beginning. He was supposed to make an honest living for himself, find a nice girl, get married, and fix up the farm house for them to live in. He was supposed to be a farmer. Instead, he ran away with this damned good-looking pirate and now he… well, he didn't want to know what he was thinking. It was a good thing Antonio intruded on his thoughts just then.

"I'm glad you decided to stay with us," he said.

Lovino felt oddly flattered. He was glad his presence made Antonio happy. It was an odd feeling he had in his chest and he couldn't figure out what it was. It felt like his heart was beating too fast and too hard, like it was fluttering.

Is this what it means to have butterflies in your stomach? he wondered.

He took another long sip from his glass.

"I'm glad I met you," was all Lovino could manage.

But now he was uncomfortable. Even Antonio's brightest smile couldn't erase the caving he felt in his stomach.

With a smile tugging at his lips, Antonio said, "don't get too drunk this time."

Lovino smiled back and said, "I won't."

Antonio walked back to his bed with his glass. Setting the glass on a nearby box, he sat himself down, and laying back, he put his hands behind his head. He left just enough room for Lovino to lay next to him. Lovino took his place by his side. They were just friends. That meant that sharing a bed wasn't supposed to be a big deal. Why am I making such a big deal out of this?

"So," began Antonio, picking up his glass again, "tell me about your childhood."

Lovino snickered and sipped his wine. "What is there to say? I had a sheltered upbringing on my parents farm, and when my parents died, I had a sheltered upbringing in my Grandpa's bookstore."

Antonio observed him carefully. "I don't know, but sometimes when I watch you… It seems to be more complicated than that."

Lovino looked over at Antonio, still shirtless, and with his pants hugging his hips just right. No, stop that!

"I, uh…"

Lovino has never told anyone what really happened to his parents. He never needed to. Everyone in town already knew what happened, like some fucked up sixth sense. It was one of the reasons he wanted to escape so badly. But looking at Antonio—ever so sincere, Antonio—he told him what he'd never told anyone before. He told him how his father disappeared at sea, and his mother couldn't live with the grief of it. He told him how his poor younger brother was the first to find her hanging body, and how he had to bury her alone at night, how scared he was, and how desperate he was for the night to end. He told him how understanding and forgiving his Grandpa was and how he couldn't understand how the old man could be stupid enough to spoil their raid the way he did.

But at the same time, he knew his Grandpa loved him and his brother more than anything in the world and that he promised to protect them. Lovino knew that his grandfather was only trying to protect him as he promised and he couldn't bring himself to hate him for it. He was glad when he saw the understanding in Antonio's eyes.

And then Antonio told his story.

"I grew up in an orphanage until I was about seven."

"How did you end up there?"

"How should I know? I've been there as long as I can remember. The mistress of the household used to beat me all the time. One day I decided I just had enough and snuck out at night. I ran away. It was on that night I met Armado." At this point, Antonio's eyes seemed to darken. Lovino was concerned by the look in his eyes, but it seemed to go away almost as quickly as it came. "He let me join his crew. I've been a pirate ever since."

"Well, you're story certainly isn't as dramatic as mine."

Antonio laughed that hearty laugh of his. "No, it isn't. So you really mean to tell me that someone as handsome as you doesn't have any girls waiting for him at home?"

"Well, there were a few barmaids here and there that got a little too enthusiastic when they had a little too much wine, but no… Nothing permanent. You?"

"Nah. I never stay on land long enough to get committed to them."

Lovino felt happy by this confession. Having finished his wine long ago, he was starting to drift to sleep.

"Goodnight, then," he said to Antonio.

"Goodnight!" beamed Antonio.

Antonio got up to extinguish the dwindling candle in the lantern, before they could both sleep for the night, freezing, and just a little bit more satisfied.

... ... ... ... ...

The next morning, Lovino was desperate to bathe. Unfortunately, he couldn't find a comb among the various crates and boxes, so he had to finger-comb his hair, which was pretty useless. Within an hour, his hair was a fluffy, curly mess of hair in a perfect imitation of his grandfather's naturally unruly hair.

Lovino was getting his bucket of soapy water ready to he could scrub the decks yet again.

"Lovi, why are you looking so grumpy? Usually people are happy to get a bath," said Antonio sneaking up behind him.

"You'd think with all those boxes of crates down there, there'd be a goddamn fucking comb in one of them!"

Antonio started to pet Lovino's head. "Oh! But I think the curly hair suits you! You look so handsome—"

"Would you?!" said Lovino as he bat his hand away, but Antonio was persistent. He pet Lovino's hair down and stroked his curls down, especially that obnoxious curl that never could be tamed down. A moan escaped from Lovino's lips, he blushed, and turned away.

"Wait, come back here! What did I do wrong?" shouted Antonio.

"You know what you did wrong, you dirty whore."

"You say that like you didn't enjoy last night, Lovi."

"Kiss my ass!"

"Gladly," said Antonio, with a wink and a curl to his lips. This caused Lovino's face to blush a deep red before he fled below deck, under the claim of getting more soap.

Sadık, still tied to the main mast, overheard the entire conversation, and could hardly believe his ears. His attempt to cause a mutiny through the Italian's betrayal had failed. But this was so much better. He had reason to believe that Antonio the Spaniard, the favourite among the crew, was in fact a homosexual, something most catholics could never forgive. He only needed to wait for the prime opportunity to use this information.

Lovino soon came back up and was relieved to find Antonio was busy with the riggers, and wouldn't embarrass him anymore. His gaze lingered on the Turk, still bound and useless. Lovino didn't quite hate him anymore, but he still pitied him for being tied to the mast all day and all night. He wondered if anyone bothered to feed him, since he never saw him roaming around, except for his first day on deck. The Turk locked eyes with Lovino and the look he gave him made him uncomfortable.

Finding Armado at the helm as was his usual, Lovino went up to him to ask a question.

"Armado?"

"Hm?"

Lovino considered his next words carefully. "Why is the Turk still alive? I mean… No one seemed to care about keeping the others alive. Why is this one important?"

"He isn't," sighed Armado. "That one's just lucky to be alive."

"But why? Why are we keeping him? He's just another mouth to feed, and he's likely to be a hazard if he breaks loose."

"Because he's worth money, and he's worth more if he's healthy." Armado must have mistaken Lovino's look of horror for curiosity and continued to explain. "We can bring him with us to the Caribbean. We can sell him to the slave masters for a good price there."

Lovino swallowed and nodded, going back to cleaning the deck. So Antonio wasn't joking that first night he met him. What if they decided they didn't want him on the crew? Would he have ended up where the Turk was now? Was he just lucky to have been introduced by Antonio, the crowd favourite?

But Sadık had been paying attention. Being held captive on board this ship was enough of a nightmare, now they wanted to sell him into slavery. He wasn't going to let them. He swore to himself once again that he'd find a way off this boat.

... ... ... ... ...

The rest of the morning went rather smoothly. Alistair said they were making great progress and could arrive in Spain in just over a week. Around the noon hour, some of the crew were sitting on deck, munching whatever food they could stomach and trying to enjoy the warm sun and cooling wind despite their shitty circumstances. Lovino was sitting beside Antonio and Enzo, and felt a pang when he saw Enzo getting quite cozy with Antonio. He was going to have to think his stupid emotions through and figure out what was wrong with him.

Just as he did the day before, Armado gathered a plate of meats and brought them for Sadık. Armado handed the plate to Antonio. "Feed him," he said, and walked back to the helm. Many were watching. This was the sole form of entertainment they had at the moment.

Antonio obeyed. He moved his chair in front of Sadık and was about to put a decent-sized chunk of meat in his mouth, when Sadık spat and said something under his breath. Some men close by went quiet.

Armado wasn't entirely phased. He had a feeling Sadık was trying some sort of clever scheme to escape. He just didn't know what form his scheme might take. "What did you say?"

"I said I wasn't going to be fed by some cocksucker," repeated Sadık with malice in his eyes and his gaze cast to Lovino, who squirmed under the heavy gaze.

Antonio froze. The deck was silent. Any moment now, and the crew would riot, and Sadık could make his escape.

Armado strode towards the pair, his jaw was set in fury and determination. Once he was within arms reach, he slugged Sadık, causing his head to bang against the post. Armado grabbed him by his hair and forced him to look him in the eye.

"And you're just the ugliest mother fucker I've ever seen in my life," spat Sadık. Things weren't going as planned. If he couldn't cause a mutiny, then he could at least spark enough rage in Armado to make him kill him and throw him overboard to join his brothers-in-arms.

Armado just chuckled mockingly and pulled Sadık's head into an awkward angle.

"I see you've noticed my scar," he said, a smile playing on his lips. "Do you want to know how I got it?" Sadık could only manage a moan of pain, but it didn't stop Armado from telling his story. "I was born in Venezuela before my father and I were taken and sold into slavery. The man that owned us, he was cruel. My father spoke up against him, he put his foot down. You know what our master did to punish my father? He had some of his other slaves hold my father down as he held my face in his hand and carved my face out with a butcher knife. I was 5." Armado let go of Sadık's hair, who now started breathing in deep gasps as blood ran down from his nose, dripping onto his shirt. "That night, my father snuck into the master's house and murdered him. Tore his guts out with his bare hands and made me watch. We took the first boat out of town. That boat happened to belong to pirates."

Armado took a few steps back. He turned to face Antonio, still standing firm and looking down at Sadık, judging him. He put his arm around Antonio, gave a hearty squeeze, and said, "You'd be amazed how far fathers will go for their sons. The next time you say shit about mine, I'll carve your face out, just like mine. We'll find out how far your father would go for you."

Armado walked back to the helm where he could stare down at Sadık. With the plate of food forgotten at the Turk's feet, just out of reach, Antonio went back to sit with Enzo and Lovino. No one approached him. Sadık quickly realized that once again, his plan had failed. He tentatively looked about the deck, and saw the looks the crew members were giving him, like he'd said something stupidly obvious.

He didn't expect the entire crew to accept Antonio's personal preference.

Notes: I would like to say, loudly and clearly, that Turkey is not homophobic. He simply expects others to be. That is all.