As a midshipman, James Sawyer was more fond of the foretopmen than his peers, for half of them were peers in their own right. He was not a gentleman and never would be. Though he has learned to command men of finer breeding than his, he prefers the common sailor, jostle, yell and swear as he may.
He does have his favorites; not the pretty boys that stupid men might choose, signalling their preferences to anyone's prying eyes. Sawyer knows that few men have the imagination to accuse another of perpetrating sodomy with jolly tars. It is their finest charm.
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