Pullings feels the tenseness leave West's hand, and leans back to see him, eyes closed, inhaling slowly through his teeth. He turns blindly towards where Pullings had been a moment ago, breathing warmly on his face, but now there is only cold air.
Pullings cannot bear to see West like this, like a newborn puppy searching with closed eyes for its mother. He kisses him on the mouth, his chapped lips lightly touching West's as his own eyes slide shut. He feels West's tentative fingers in his hair. First it is only the very tips brushing his scalp, but then his hand is tangled in Pullings's hair and he is kissing him back. This tickles him mercilessly, but he doesn't want to stop, or West to move. He incessantly strokes the back of West's other hand.
From the masthead, he hears the very faint but clear call of "Sail ho!" He pulls away, slowly and with regret, then leans back and impulsively kisses West's cheek. He half-stands, raising West's hand to his lips, courtly and almost theatrical, before hurrying on deck with his glass. Captain Aubrey was never one to miss a chase, or a chance to speak a friendly ship.
It is a strange thing that he did. He first thinks this about how he kissed West's hand as he left: an unusually dramatic thing for him to do; but then realizes that it is strange that he kissed the man in the first place. He doubts that he has even kissed his wife as many times.
A sailor approaches him, tugging his forelock respectfully. "Sail, sir, three points off the larboard bow."
"Thank you..." says Pullings, cutting off the end abruptly. He has a momentary image of how this would look if he wrote it: the words "Thank you" and a comma, followed by a large and probably splattered stop. He cannot remember the man's name. Captain Aubrey always remembered his crew's names.
He goes over to the rail to look for the ship, but cannot see it. The lookout must have very sharp eyes. He climbs into the ratlines and to the mizzentop, pointing his glass at the western horizon and seeing a fleck of white. He hails the deck and gives the order to chase.
As he descends, he wonders if West is still sitting there. He rather hopes that it is so; he feels that some sort of explanation may be required for his conduct. He resolves to explain it to himself first.
He thinks that he kissed West because the man was skittish: to comfort him and make him calmer. It did the job. But he liked it when West kissed him back.
Pullings now realizes that what he thought before- that he felt something like this for Captain Aubrey when he was younger- is off the mark. If West feels anything for him, at all, that is probably closer to what Pullings used to feel. Pullings considers that he would then be in Captain Aubrey's position. He is nothing like Captain Aubrey. He kissed West.
He walks slowly towards his cabin. He does not know how he will ever tell West why he did what he did.
