HH fic announcement: The Hazards of Fortune 2/2

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Two days passed before Horatio was able to satisfy that need at last. It was not at the Dancing Dolphin that they met, but rather at the naval yard shortly after the Indefatigable had arrived at Portsmouth Harbour. He felt a jolt of surprise mingled with relief when he saw Archie standing there on the dock immersed in conversation with a dock worker. They had spoken a few moments longer before the man nodded and walked away and it was then that Archie looked up and saw him. He smiled broadly at Horatio and strode towards him.

“Horatio! Well met, sir!” he said as he grasped Horatio’s forearm in a solid grip. “And your timing could not have been better. You had a safe journey, I take it.”

“That we did and it would appear you did as well.”

Archie nodded, still grinning. Horatio’s eyes drifted down to the sling still encasing Archie’s arm.

“Does your arm still trouble you?”

Archie shook his head. “Not at all. I don’t really need the sling. I’ve only kept it because there is nothing that so melts the female heart like a dashing officer who has been wounded in battle.”

Archie’s grin turned decidedly lecherous and his expression was so smugly self-satisfied that Horatio could not help but roll his eyes and chuckle.

“I have good news, though,” Archie said, his somewhat manner more restrained. “Word has it that the Admiralty will buy the Belle Paule and fit her for the fleet.”

Horatio smiled at that. “That is good news. And the cargo?”

“Oh, ho! You should have seen the portmaster’s face when he received the inventory. His eyes gleamed like a doxy’s with a drunken sailor whose pockets are brimming with prize money!”

“Archie!” Horatio tried to sound reproving, but found his lips quirking in amusement in spite of himself. He had missed Archie’s exuberant, if dubious, sense of humor during their brief parting.

“Just think of the prize money, Horatio! Of course, it will fall to Captain Pellew to resolve the matter, but it would appear that we have at last managed to find some favor in the Admiralty’s eyes.”

“Mr. Kennedy!”

They both turned at the sound of Mr. Bracegirdle’s voice. “Mr. Bracegirdle, sir! It is good to see you!” Archie clasped his arm as well.

“Indeed. I am pleased to see that the Indefatigable has managed to get at least one prize ship back to England.”

Bracegirdle cast an amused glance in Horatio’s direction. Horatio bit down on the sigh that threatened to burst forth and accepted the first lieutenant’s gentle ribbing with good grace.

Archie chuckled, but his gaze was warm and sympathetic. “Well, to be fair, sir, this was an exceptionally short cruise. Any mid could have brought her home.”

“I think you’re being unduly modest, Archie,” Horatio chimed in. “We are at war and even a short cruise can end badly. As I know all too well.”

Bracegirdle nodded sagely. “Mr. Hornblower is right. Long or short, any journey is fraught with peril in these uncertain times. You are to be congratulated. In fact, I believe that our safe arrival in Portsmouth warrants a celebratory drink. Our good captain has graciously given us leave for the day. Would you two gentlemen join me tonight at the Golden Crown to drink a toast to our good fortune?”

Archie cast Horatio a quick glance, but there was no need to ask. “It would be our pleasure, sir.”

“Excellent.”

“Well, I must first find the captain and inform him of the news regarding our prize,” Archie said. “Is he still aboard the Indy?”

Bracegirdle nodded. “If you hurry you should be able to catch him before he heads off to the Admiralty.”

Archie began to walk in the direction Bracegirdle indicated but he wheeled to look back at his companions. “Horatio,” he called back, “I took a room at the Dancing Dolphin if you would care to share the cost. You can leave your dunnage there.”

“Thank you, Archie, I shall.”

With a quick wave, Archie spun back around and made as hasty a departure as decorum would allow. Horatio watched until Archie was swallowed up by the crowds of men that lined the docks. He felt a hand upon his shoulder and turned to see Bracegirdle smiling benignly at him

“Well, Mr. Hornblower, I shall see you this evening at the Golden Crown.”

Horatio nodded. “I look forward to it, sir.”

Bracegirdle made his farewells, leaving Horatio standing alone while the bustle of the docks swirled around him. Eventually he made his way to the Dancing Dolphin to deposit his dunnage in the room he would share with Archie that night. Restless and having no idea when or even if Archie would return, Horatio decided to take advantage of the privacy to bathe. He ordered hot water and a tin bathing tub, paying an outlandish sum for both, but it was a cost he was willing to bear. He sighed contentedly as he slipped into the water’s embrace and scrubbed vigorously at skin and hair, wanting to remove the sharp smell of smoke and the baser scents of blood and sweat from his body. He wished that he had the time to have his jacket cleaned as well, but that would have to wait.

Freshly scrubbed and dressed once more, Horatio headed outside and ambled aimlessly along the streets of Portsmouth. On more than one occasion he found himself turning to his left to address some comment to Archie, only to find the place his friend habitually occupied empty. It was strange, but perhaps not entirely unexpected, that Horatio felt Archie’s absence the keenest in those places most familiar to them both; on the deck and in confines of the wardroom aboard theIndy, and now the streets of Portsmouth that he had first walked at Archie’s side.

He still remembered his first shore leave as a green midshipman berthed on the ill-fated Justinian, seventeen years old and so painfully callow that he couldn’t help but cringe a little at the memory of his younger self. Archie had not been much older than he, but he seemed so worldly by comparison that Horatio had been quite dazzled. Archie had been terribly kind to him, taking him in hand and showing him about Portsmouth, lauding it as if it were the crown jewel of England rather than a dirty, squalid port filled with whores, thieves and ruffians, its greatest virtue its proximity to the Channel. Funny how when he was with Archie he didn’t notice the whitewashed walls gone gray from soot and dirt nor the foul odors of excrement and rotting garbage that lingered in the air. Archie had a knack for distraction and his mere presence seemed adequate to keep such unpleasant things at bay.

Horatio shook his head at his own fancy. He thought about heading towards some of the booksellers that dotted the streets nearby, but found that the idea held little appeal, knowing it would only make him miss Archie’s presence all the more. At a loss with what to do with himself, Horatio finally opted to head back to the docks and the Golden Crown. If he must while away the time, he might as well do it with a tankard in hand.

The Golden Crown-an ill-named establishment if ever there was one-was much like any other tavern found in Portsmouth: dirty, loud and smelling of cheroot, the slightly sour stench of ale and sweat and a few other things best not named. Still, after three months at sea, Horatio was surprised at how appealing such a disreputable place could seem. Horatio seated himself at a table as far away from the group of sailors currently engaged in a rousing rendition of what Horatio believed was intended to be the Bay of Biscay-o that still afforded him a decent view of the door, before he waved over the potman and ordered himself an ale. Then he settled in to await his shipmates’ arrival.

He did not have long to wait. He’d barely downed half his ale when he saw Lieutenant Bracegirdle arrive with a pair of the Indy’s midshipmen in tow. Horatio smiled behind his tankard at the familiar sight. The Indy’s first lieutenant was forever looking out for the midshipmen under his command. Horatio himself had benefited from the older man’s care, as much from the occasional invitation ashore as from the lessons in navigation and the sage words of advice he offered with such tact. He waved them over to the table.

“Ah, there you are, Mr. Hornblower!” Bracegirdle said as he slid into the bench beside him, the two midshipmen-Donovan and O’Connor-taking the bench across from them. They tried to look at their ease, but Horatio didn’t miss the way their eyes scanned the room or the smiles that tugged at the corners of their lips. So young.

Bracegirdle flagged over the potman again to order more ale. “Mr. Bowles will be joining us, as will Mr. Hawkins and Mr. Everett.”

Horatio smiled before he took another drink from his tankard. “Is there anyone left aboard the Indefatigable to keep the watch?”

Mr. Bracegirdle chuckled. “Enough. Captain Pellew was feeling magnanimous on the subject of leave after he returned from the Admiralty.”

“I take it matters resolved themselves in a satisfactory manner?”

Bracegirdle gave a mild shrug. “Presumably, though the captain has not as yet chosen to speak of it.”

“Gentlemen!”

Horatio looked up into the beaming face of Mr. Bowles. He clapped Horatio on the shoulder before taking the seat across from Bracegirdle.

“Mr. Bowles! It’s good to see you, sir!”

“And you, Mr. Hornblower.” The potman having seen the ship’s master’s arrival and rightly anticipating his request, placed a fourth tankard before Bowles who took a drink, sighing appreciatively as he wiped the foam from his chin. “Good ale,” he pronounced. The table’s other occupants nodded their agreement.

Hawkins and Everett arrived shortly after, bookending the table and completing their company, save for Archie who remained conspicuously absent. The potman returned; more drinks were ordered and consumed, conversation was shared. It was pleasant, this camaraderie, but Horatio found himself growing increasingly restless, wondering where Archie had gotten himself to.

“Well,” Bowles began, his voice a lazy drawl, “it would appear that Mr. Kennedy has found himself fairer company than ours!”

Horatio looked up sharply at Bowles’ words and followed the direction of the other man’s amused gaze. Sure enough, there Archie was, leaning against the bar talking to a pretty barmaid. He leaned in close and whispered something into her ear that made her cheeks go pink. She giggled then smacked Archie playfully on the arm.

“Mr. Kennedy!” Bracegirdle called out in his best quarterdeck voice. Archie’s head snapped up and he turned in their direction, a bright smile lighting his face as he recognized the source of the hail. He whispered a parting comment to the barmaid and patted her bottom. She retaliated by swatting him with her towel as he passed.

Archie was still smiling when he arrived at their table and dropped on to the bench across from Horatio.

“Well, it’s about time, Mr. Kennedy! We thought you had forgotten your old shipmates!” Bracegirdle said, handing Archie a tankard.

“Or were going to abandon us for a petticoat!” Bowles added with a touch of amusement.

Archie gave him a look of mock outrage in return. “I would never dream of doing such a thing, sir!”

“I should hope not, sir! Gentlemen,” Bracegirdle began, raising his tankard. “A toast to Mr. Kennedy, the hero of the hour!”

The table’s occupants drank heartily. More toasts soon followed, to their captain, the Indy and to fat French prizes begging to be taken. The ale and the conversation flowed in equal measure and soon they were regaling one another with tales of battles long past. It was the habitually reserved Hawkins, who, emboldened by drink, asked Archie if he would recount for them the tale of the Indefatigable’s most recent victory. Always happy to spin a yarn, Archie agreed readily.

Horatio winced as the group of sailors in the far corner began to sing Spanish Ladies, their efforts marked by more enthusiasm than skill. He took another drink of his ale, hoping its mellowing effects would at least dull the horrendous sound a little. When he put his tankard down, he caught Archie’s eye receiving a wry smile before Archie returned to the tale he was presently recounting.

Horatio shifted, trying to settle into a more comfortable position upon the hard wooden bench and let the sound of Archie’s voice wash over him. He knew the story, of course, but he never tired of listening to Archie tell a story, marveling as always at his friend’s skill for recitation, admiring the way he could mold his voice and his face, giving the words a life and resonance that Horatio, poor wordsmith that he was, could never hope to emulate.

As Horatio’s eyes swept the table it was apparent that he was not the only one affected. Mr. Bowles was nodding while Lieutenant Bracegirdle looked on with the indulgent smile of a veteran of many a boarding action who knew intimately the excitement and terror of such close quarters battle. Seated nearby, the Indefatigable’s midshipmen gazed upon Archie as if staring into the sun, their expressions rapt, eyes wide with wonderment as Archie spun his tale, with only the occasional but wholly expected embellishment. When Archie leaned closer and pitched his voice low, they moved closer as well, hanging on his every word with the keenest of anticipation, as the story moved towards its climax.

But it was Archie himself who invariably drew Horatio’s attention. Archie’s face glowed like a signal lantern on a moonless night, his cheeks flushed with drink and the vibrant memory of battle. He was luminous in his triumph and Horatio suddenly recalled the way Archie’s eyes had sparked as their gazes met in those moments before they had boarded the Belle Paule. Horatio soaked up the sight of him now, smiling at his friend’s obvious happiness until his eyes drifted downward to the sling that cradled his arm. He drank deeply from his tankard in a vain attempt to wash away the taste of bitter ash upon his tongue.

So close. So terribly, horribly close.

“Horatio?”

Horatio blinked and found himself looking back at the object of his musings. Archie’s forehead was creased with a frown, his expression one of puzzlement tinged with concern. Horatio gave him a nod and what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Apparently, he’d managed it well enough. Archie’s brow smoothed and his lips curved upwards in a smile once more as he shifted his attention back towards his other companions and continued his story. Horatio drained his tankard and when the potman returned he ordered another, suddenly needing the softening effects of the ale.

Archie had finished his tale and now Bracegirdle was regaling his appreciative, if somewhat inebriated, audience with the story of his own first boarding action as a mid. Horatio found his attention drifting again, his eyes helplessly drawn back to Archie. He seemed very much at his ease, his laughter coming as easily as the smile that graced his flushed face, every bit as relaxed as Horatio was self-conscious.

Horatio frowned as Archie suddenly cast a smile over Horatio’s shoulder. He twisted in his seat to follow Archie’s line of sight and felt a flare of annoyance when his eyes fell upon the barmaid with whom Archie had been flirting earlier making her way towards their table. Her gait was slow and measured and she moved with an exaggerated, provocative sway to her hips. She walked around the length of the table until she reached the end where he, and not coincidentally, Archie were seated.

“Can I get you gents anything?” she asked, a lazy smile curving her lips as she leaned forward in a way that granted them a clear view of her spectacular bosom. Although she spoke to the table at large, it was to Archie that she addressed herself.

“A bit of company would not go amiss,” Archie replied with a lecherous waggle of his eyebrows.

“I meant to drink,” she replied with a snort of amusement, batting away the arm that Archie tried to slip around her waist, clearly adept at thwarting the amorous advances of drunken sailors. Archie accepted her refusal with a shrug and an unrepentant smile that elicited a soft chuckle from the woman. Despite her apparent rejection, Horatio saw the way her eyes lingered, a hint of promise flashing in their depths before her lashes fell and her expression became aloof once more.

Horatio had lost count of how many drinks he’d had, and prudence dictated he stop, but for once Horatio ignored his better sense and ordered another drink. Archie cast a curious look in his direction which Horatio elected to ignore. He had less luck at ignoring the way the barmaid leaned in towards Archie and let her forearm graze against his as she deposited his drink in front of him, nor the way her smile turned knowing and provocative as she pulled away. Archie’s eyes followed her retreating back, an openly appreciative smile on his face though Horatio suspected that his gaze was focused a bit lower, on the swell of her hips and the curve of her arse beneath the folds of her skirt.

Horatio took another long pull from his tankard.

As the night progressed, the Golden Crown became increasingly crowded and raucous, and as the ale continued to flow and the boasts grew louder and more outrageous, it was only inevitable that some of the men would grow belligerent and start looking for a fight. Horatio had largely ignored the occasional loud outburst; it was, at least in his mind, a vast improvement over the earlier singing. However, when a body reeled backwards to land heavily against the end of their table, it became impossible to ignore the brawl that had broken out and was even now occupying a number of the establishment’s patrons.

“Well,” Mr. Bowles began cheerfully as he watched the man sprawled across the table pull himself up and charge headlong at his adversary, “I believe the time has come for a change in venue. What say you gentlemen?”

“I believe you’re right, Mr. Bowles, but I’m not sure about our young gentlemen here,” Bracegirdle said as he gestured towards the table’s midshipmen. O’Connor, Horatio realized, was passed out, his head cradled on his folded arms atop the table in front of him, while Donovan swayed where he sat, his eyes glazed in an all too familiar manner. Everett and Hawkins at least still had their wits about them.

“We’ll take care of ‘em, sir,” Hawkins said. Everett nodded.

Bracegirdle nodded his approval, obviously pleased to see the mess taking care of its own. “And what about you gentlemen?” he asked, his gaze encompassing Horatio and Archie both.

Before Horatio could reply, Archie chimed in. “As appealing as that idea is, I think I’d best find my bed. It’s been a long few days.”

Bracegirdle gave him a fond smile. “Indeed it has.”

By this time, Everett and Hawkins had managed to get their messmates vertical and mostly conscious. They all swayed a bit, but between the four of them, they were able to stay on their feet and make their way towards the door.

“Goodnight, sirs!” Hawkins called back as they wove through the crowd, careful to avoid the ongoing brawl. Bracegirdle and Bowles followed them out.

“Coming, Horatio?”

He blinked up at Archie who had risen to stand next to Horatio. He rose as well, and was pleased to find he was steadier on his feet than might have been expected in light of the quantity of ale he had consumed. Archie slung his free arm around Horatio’s shoulders and steered him towards the door. It was not until some time later that Horatio realized that Archie had not so much as cast a backwards glance towards the pretty barmaid.

They paused outside the tavern’s door to exchange farewells, the sounds from the taproom bleeding into the night. They shook hands before Bracegirdle and Bowles headed off in search of someplace to share a quiet drink and a bit of conversation, while he and Archie headed towards the Dancing Dolphin.

The night was brisk, the chill penetrating his body down to the bone despite his woolen jacket and though the trip to their lodgings was not especially long, by the time they reached their room, Horatio’s hands felt like lumps of ice. At least the cold night air had helped to clear away the worst of the alcohol-induced fog. His mind was clearer than it had been back at the tavern though his thoughts remained chaotic and the sense of unease that had niggled at him for the past two days had returned in force. When they entered their room at last, he stood near the door and gazed about him, bemused.

In contrast, Archie was all purposeful motion. He had already lit a taper from the rushlight in the hall and was now in the process of lighting the fire laid out in the small hearth on the other side of the room. Horatio stared at Archie crouched in front of the hearth, his body a dark silhouette edged by the light from the taper. It was only belatedly that Horatio realized that Archie was talking to him.

“…and perhaps if there is time before we sail again we can go to Mr. Penny’s shop if you’re so inclined. I’ve not been myself, of course. Too busy with the Belle Paule. I’m of a mind to spend a bit of our prize money on a book or two. And perhaps some new linen…”

Archie looked back at him. He was frowning again, his features tinted gold by the candlelight and Horatio realized that he’d been silent for too long.

“Horatio? Are you well?”

Horatio gave himself a shake and flashed Archie an apologetic smile. “Yes, of course I am. Too much ale, that’s all.” There, that sounded reasonable.

Except Archie didn’t appear to be convinced. He was still frowning as he set the lit candle back in the holder resting on the small table near the bed. “Are you quite sure? You’ve been acting oddly all evening.”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You seemed…quiet tonight, more so than usual. And you don’t usually imbibe so freely.”

“I would think that I have as much right to celebrate our victory as any man!” he snapped back and winced inwardly at the note of petulance in his voice.

“Of course you do,” Archie replied, his voice soft and tolerant. It was the kind of voice one would use when dealing with a fractious child. Or a shipmate who was suddenly behaving like one. Rather than being soothed, however, Horatio’s irritation leapt to the fore.

“Just as you have every right to flirt with barmaids!”

Archie blinked, his mouth gaping at the sudden shift in their conversation. “Horatio,” he began, his voice tentative now. “You’re not jealous are you?”

“No.”

“There’s no need to be, you know. It was nothing but a harmless flirtation.” Archie moved closer and rested his left hand upon Horatio’s arm. “You know why.”

And he did know why. Though he hated the necessity of it, he understood it and accepted it because those were the only terms under which he and Archie could be what they were to one another. He looked down at Archie’s hand where it held him still. It was a strong hand, solid and square, the skin darkened by sun and sea. It was warm as well, so warm it almost seemed to burn and Horatio felt a sudden unreasoning urge to push it away.

He looked up again, meeting earnest blue eyes. “What has changed, Horatio?”

“Nothing.”

Archie shook his head. “No, something is different…wrong. Tell me.” He moved closer, his eyes soft and pleading. This time Horatio did pull away.

“Horatio?”

Horatio turned away, not wanting to see the sympathy he knew would be reflected in Archie’s eyes. When he turned at last, the first thing he saw was the sling cradling Archie’s arm.

“You were hurt,” he blurted out.

“Yes, I was. Ours is a dangerous profession, especially in times such as these. You know that.”

“You could have been killed.”

“And so could you,” Archie shot back with a hint of challenge in the tilt of his chin though his voice remained even. “But I was not.”

“McKean was.”

“Yes,” Archie replied, sorrow reflected in his eyes. “He was. It is a tragedy, but it is not our tragedy, Horatio.”

“It could have been you,” Horatio said. “I should have protected you.”

Archie blinked, befuddled. “What?”

“I should have protected you!”

Archie’s eyes narrowed. “So, you would have me play the damsel then? Would that make you happier?”

“No!” He replied sharply. “No,” he repeated, his voice softer. “Of course not. I only wish for you to be safe.”

“There is no safety in this life, Horatio, only in the next.” He passed his hand across his eyes and gave a frustrated sigh. “I appreciate your solicitude, truly I do, but there are times that I think I might choke upon it.”

It was Horatio’s turn to be stunned. “Archie?”

Archie raised his hand, halting Horatio’s words. “Hear me out, Horatio, please. I am glad that you care for me so. And there was a time, not that long ago, when I needed it. But that is not what I need now. I don’t want your protection, Horatio. I want your respect.”

“I do respect you, Archie!” Horatio protested fervently as he unconsciously moved closer.

“I know you do, but there are times when I begin to wonder if you truly trust me or my judgment. Not just as a man, but as an officer.” Archie’s gaze suddenly became intense. “You asked Matthews to follow me back to the Indy, didn’t you? After we took the Belle Paule.”

Horatio colored a little at the reminder. He cleared his throat. “You were unsteady on your feet. I just wanted to make sure you arrived safely.”

“I said I was fine. If any other man had said as much would you have doubted him so readily?”

Horatio opened his mouth to deny it, but there was a niggling part of him that suspected that Archie had the right of it. He sank heavily to the bed and heaved a great sigh. “I feel as though I’m losing you,” he confessed in a soft voice.

There was a long, pregnant pause before Archie spoke. “Why ever would you think that?”

“You’re so changed of late, Archie. You’re so assured, so easy with the men. The other officers look to you, as does Captain Pellew. And when we were on the Belle Paule, you were…” words failed him and he shook his head. “I’m happy for you, more happy than I can say to see you coming into your own at last. It’s just that…well…I feel almost as if I’m being left behind. That you don’t need me anymore.” He hung his head, feeling like a fool.

Horatio felt Archie’s hand on his chin, tilting his head up to look directly into Archie’s eyes. Archie was kneeling on the floor before him, the elbow of his injured arm resting on Horatio’s knee. Archie shook his head, but his expression was tender.

“You are a daft thing, Mr. Hornblower,” he said smiling fondly. He gave Horatio’s thigh a quick, reassuring squeeze. “Of course I need you. I will always need you. But not as some unfortunate creature requiring your protection. I will not be coddled or pitied, not any more.”

Horatio dared to rest his hand along Archie’s neck, feeling the way the pulse jumped beneath his thumb. “I never pitied you, Archie.”

“But you have coddled me at times.”

Horatio instinctively began to protest, but stopped himself, acknowledging the truth of those words. He gave a small nod.

Archie leaned in closer. “I’m not some child to be cosseted. If I’m to be any kind of officer, any kind of man, I need to learn to stand on my own two feet. I can’t lean on you forever, Horatio. I may be an acting lieutenant in rank, but I’m damned if I’ll be one in actuality as well!”

Horatio was startled by the fervor in Archie’s voice and the hard, determined cast of his features. Horatio looked at him, truly looked at him and Archie returned his gaze levelly. This was still the same Archie, still hisArchie. A bit older now than when they’d first met, and a bit wiser, too, but still he remained the same loyal, generous man he’d always been. Frequently impertinent, occasionally aggravating but always dear, Archie was, as he’d always been, Horatio’s truest friend. Nothing had changed. At least nothing that mattered.

“You are right, Archie.”

“Of course, I’m right,” Archie replied, his lips twitching into a grin. “I always am!”

That startled a laugh out of Horatio. “My apologies for ever doubting it, sir.”

Archie’s expression grew serious once more. “So, are we done with all this foolishness, now?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then perhaps we could devote our attention to more pleasurable pursuits.”

Horatio smiled shyly down at him. “And what did you have in mind, sir?”

Archie’s reply was to let the fingers of his right hand trail along the inside of Horatio’s thigh. Their touch was light, but the effect was incendiary. Horatio was startled to feel himself already beginning to stiffen in his breeches from this barest of caresses. It was hardly surprising, he supposed; after three months at sea during which they’d shared nothing more than a few furtive kisses and a brief fumble or two in the darkest recesses below decks, Horatio’s body was desperate for Archie’s touch and for the promise of release denied for far too long.

Archie, of course, had not failed to notice his response. He looked up at Horatio through lowered lashes and gave him quite the filthiest smile Horatio had ever seen this side of a dockside whore. He held Horatio’s gaze, even as his questing fingers drifted higher, tracing the inner seam of his breeches. Horatio’s legs fell apart with an eagerness that would have shamed him once, but no more. Still, he drew a hissed breath as Archie’s fingers glided along the length of him, making him stiffen further and it was only with a supreme effort that Horatio kept from bucking up into that knowing, provocative touch.

Horatio realized somewhat belatedly that Archie’s left hand had not been idle. Archie had begun to unfasten the buttons on the front of his breeches most adeptly even as his right alternately caressed and cupped Horatio’s erection. Horatio’s hands curled into fists at his side as he strove to hold himself still, clinging to the discipline and control expected of one of His Majesty’s officers under trying circumstances. And these were trying circumstances, indeed, as Archie skillfully divested him of his clothing as well as his self-control.

The last button unfastened, Archie began to tug at Horatio’s breeches and his drawers, pulling them down his hips. Horatio unthinkingly raised his arse so that Archie could slide them down his thighs, exposing him to the cool night air. Horatio knew he must have presented a ridiculous sight, fully dressed from neck to waist, bare from hip to knees where his breeches and drawers were tangled, but he found he didn’t care in the slightest. Archie shifted closer to rest his forearms upon Horatio’s thighs and fitted his hands around his waist, thumbs stroking gently along the jut of Horatio’s hipbones.

Archie looked up at him with a devilish gleam in his eye and a smile that somehow managed to be both wicked and tender before he leaned in and rubbed his cheek against Horatio’s belly like a cat demanding to be petted. Horatio uncurled one fist and gave in to the temptation to touch, letting his hand slide along the top of that tawny head, fingers twining in the soft hair at the back of his skull. He felt Archie’s nose nudge almost playfully against his cock and then the soft press of lips, cool against the heated length, followed by a flicker of tongue. Archie’s tongue drew a path along his cock until it reached the head where it paused before swirling and lapping at the slit with tiny, precise motions. A moan slipped out from between Horatio’s suddenly parched lips.

It was only when he heard the sound of Archie’s low, throaty laugh that Horatio realized his eyes had slid shut. He opened them and gazed down at the wanton imp currently nestled in his lap smiling up at him with merry blue eyes. Horatio opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, the only sound that issued was a strangled moan as Archie took him fully in his mouth in a single, smooth motion.

Horatio had expected Archie to tease, knowing how he loved to draw out the pleasure and chip away at Horatio’s restraint bit by bit like a woodsman stripping away the branches of a tree he planned to fell. This time, however, Archie seemed determined to smash him to pieces with a single blow. He sucked on Horatio’s cock, with long, strong pulls, working him with a singlemindedness and a ruthlessness that took Horatio completely unawares. Horatio’s hands were clutching at Archie’s shoulders, his fingers digging sharply into the muscles where they were stretched most thinly across the framework of bones with force enough that Horatio knew they would leave bruises, but he was too far gone to stop himself or even to care. All he knew were the wet slurping sounds of Archie’s clever mouth and his own broken moans and babbled, inarticulate pleas, and the exquisite, wet heat of Archie’s mouth that enclosed him, furnace hot and sweeter than mulberry wine. He bucked up sharply despite Archie’s best efforts to hold him steady, hips jerking, seeking greater stimulation, demanding the release that Archie dangled just out of reach. Pressure built, coiled in his belly, tighter and sharper and then it was exploding outward, slamming into him. His eyes rolled back in his head and all he saw was blinding whiteness that edged into hazy blackness as his body collapsed backwards into embracing, welcoming softness.

It was the chill that drew him back to full awareness. Archie had taken advantage of his inattention to remove Horatio’s clothes. Stock, jacket and waistcoat were gone, as were the breeches that had slipped down his legs to puddle about his ankles. He raised himself up on his elbows and looked down to confirm that fact. Archie was in the process of removing his stockings when he felt Horatio’s movement above him. Discarding the stockings he looked up at Horatio and made no attempt to hide his self-satisfied smile, smug bastard that he was.

“You’ve been busy,” Horatio said, his voice rougher and less steady than he’d expected.

“Efficiency and economy are requisite virtues for an officer,” Archie replied in a crisp, formal tone oddly reminiscent of Captain Pellew’s remarks during the Sunday inspection. Horatio pushed that disconcerting analogy away at once.

“Indeed they are.” Horatio studied his companion. “I cannot help but note, Archie, that you are still fully clothed, however.”

“Just seeing to the needs of a shipmate who was…indisposed.” That last word was pronounced with a decidedly lecherous emphasis and Horatio was rather embarrassed to realize that he was blushing. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Yes…well…I am no longer indisposed. I am, however, getting chilled and would appreciate some assistance in getting warm.”

“Would you now? Well, I believe I might be able to help.”

“Most kind of you.”

“Always happy to lend a hand to a fellow officer.”

He felt a small fond smile tugging at his lips as Archie rose to his feet and began to undress slowly. That damned sling was the first thing to go, tossed carelessly over Archie’s shoulder to land somewhere near the door. The jacket and waistcoat soon followed, their buttons unfastened with ease. Archie made a game of it, meeting Horatio’s gaze as he toed off his shoes and tugged at his stock. He fumbled a bit with the knot, but soon won free, and it joined the sling in the far corner of the room. The trousers came next and this time Archie took his time, smiling provocatively as each button was unfastened to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin. His trousers and drawers soon joined the clothing on the floor, as did his stockings until Archie stood before him, clothed only in his shirt, its tails just skimming the tops of his thighs. Horatio gazed at him avidly, his eyes noting the way the thin linen tented in the most interesting way. Archie’s smile widened as he lifted the hem of his shirt and dragged it over his head and let it fall to the floor before he stepped closer and crawled on to the bed at Horatio’s side.

Straddling Horatio’s body, Archie leaned down and kissed him, sharing the taste of Horatio’s seed that lingered on his tongue, making Horatio shiver at this unexpectedly wanton act. They kissed long and deep and oh how Horatio had missed this, this gentle press of lips and slow, lazy slide of tongue as they explored one another’s mouths like they had all the time in the world. One of his hands cradled Archie’s nape then slid up to tug at the ribbon binding Archie’s hair, spilling it across his hand and Archie’s shoulders. He grasped his hair, fingers twined in the soft locks and pulled him closer still. Archie yielded at once.

It was glorious to be like this, bodies pressed close, the feel of bare skin beneath his palms and the smell of musky arousal filling his nostrils. Archie must have bathed as well; Horatio could smell the hint of soap on his skin and in his hair and he breathed him in like air itself. Archie shifted to rest more fully upon him and Horatio felt Archie’s hardness as it rubbed against Horatio’s thigh. Horatio found himself beginning to harden anew at the sensation.

Archie broke the kiss at last and turned to nuzzle at Horatio’s cheek and jaw. He sighed contentedly against Horatio’s throat between light, playful kisses. Horatio arched his neck as his hands slid up along Archie’s arms towards his shoulders, intending to pull him down into another kiss, but paused as his left hand touched cloth. Puzzled, he pulled back and it was only then that his eyes fell upon the bandage wrapped around Archie’s upper arm.

Horatio looked up and saw Archie watching him warily. Horatio traced the edge of the bandage with a fingertip. It was pristine and showed no stain of blood. “It does not pain you?” he asked at last.

Archie shook his head. “No.”

“Good,” was all Horatio said, before he pulled Archie down into a fierce kiss, fuelled by hunger and need and yes, damn it, relief. Relief that Archie was safe, that they were here together and had weathered this latest storm. They were still at war, and the dangers they faced remained, but at that moment none of it mattered, nothing existed beyond the walls of their small rented room.

Tongues met and teeth clashed and Horatio pulled Archie close, his arms wrapped tightly around his back. Archie shifted again and Horatio’s legs fell apart to accommodate his body. He hissed as their cocks rubbed together, the contact like a jolt of electricity that made him harden once more. Archie swallowed the sound and Horatio returned the favor moments later as Archie moaned in response to the pressure of Horatio’s hands upon his arse, pressing him down, crushing their cocks together. Archie ground against him, his hands twining almost painfully in Horatio’s hair as he broke the kiss long enough to draw a deep, shuddering breath. Then Horatio kissed him again did not release him until they were both gasping for air and dark spots were dancing before his eyes.

Archie’s eyes seemed to glow, reflecting the flame of the nearby candle as he gazed down at Horatio, a predatory smile gracing his lips. Horatio shivered in anticipation, knowing what that look presaged. Archie twisted aside and tugged at the drawer of the small table beside their bed. He gave a grunt of satisfaction as he rolled back towards Horatio. He braced himself upon one hand while from the other dangled a small bottle of oil. He didn’t speak, but Horatio could read the question in his eyes.

“Yes,” was all Horatio said, all he needed to say. Archie nodded then swooped down for another fervent kiss before he carefully placed the bottle of oil on the bedside table out of harm’s way but still within reach.

Archie sat back on his heels and surveyed Horatio’s body with the same intensity with which he might examine a chart. Horatio licked dry lips and let his own eyes roam, soaking in the familiar sight of his lover’s body gilded by candlelight and sheened with sweat, the thatch of hair on his chest more red than gold in the flickering light. Horatio’s eyes drifted lower, down the flat belly to where Archie’s cock rose from its nest of curls, its head flushed dark red. He licked his lips again and felt rather than saw Archie’s eyes drift to his mouth, his hunger palpable.

He gave Archie a challenging look, knowing well that no further incentive was needed. He was proven correct when Archie leaned in and he kissed him slowly, testing both their resolve. Archie chewed lightly on Horatio’s lips even as his hands began to wander lower. Horatio felt his shirt, now rumpled and damp with sweat, pushed upwards to bunch beneath his armpits. Nimble hands stroked him and drew random patterns upon his skin as Archie’s clever tongue probed his willing mouth. He arched suddenly as Archie’s fingers closed upon one nipple pinching the small nub of flesh until pain melded into pleasure. He then repeated his ministrations on the other nipple, eliciting a gasp and restless motion.

Archie’s hands swept downward to trail across his ribs, his belly, his hips. The hands vanished for a moment but soon returned and Horatio felt warmth and slickness along his cock, his balls and then against the entrance of his body. He spread his legs wider as Archie’s finger lightly circled the entrance then slipped slowly inside. Horatio’s eyes closed as he surrendered to the delicious sensations that Archie’s talented hands produced. Another finger breached him and then a third, filling him, still a mere prelude to the fullness to come.

The fingers were gone and Horatio, much to his embarrassment, all but mewled at the lack. He heard a throaty laugh near his ear and then a whispered “Patience,” followed by a quick nip of teeth on his lobe. He felt his legs pushed wider, felt the weight of Archie’s body as it settled heavily between them. Horatio drew a breath and held it, waiting.

“Look at me, Horatio.” His eyes snapped open at the authority in that voice, no more able to refuse that command than he could have an order from Captain Pellew. Archie’s face hovered above him, his cheeks flushed and damp, eyes dark with arousal, the sight both familiar and wonderfully new, like the dawn breaking in the east. Archie held his eyes and Horatio felt the blunt tip of Archie’s cock nudge against him. He released his breath slowly as he felt his flesh give way before the welcome intruder as it moved slowly, inexorably deeper until Archie was sheathed fully within him.

Braced upon his elbows, Archie held himself still as he allowed Horatio’s body a moment to acclimate. Only then did he begin to move, his body sliding slowly in and out of Horatio’s own with the most exquisite, devastating care. With the small part of his mind that he could spare, Horatio could not help but marvel at Archie’s control as he established a steady rhythm of long, shallow strokes, pressing them onward like the oars of a boat cleaving through the water. Horatio’s hands slid up Archie’s back, the skin slick with the sweat that had begun to pool along his spine. Horatio’s hands then drifted lower to grasp the smooth curves of Archie’s arse. The muscles clenched and quivered beneath his hands as for the first time Archie’s careful rhythm faltered, then returned. And all the while Horatio continued to gaze up at Archie who returned his gaze with a look of intense concentration, his lips clamped together in a thin line.

Wanting more, Horatio wrapped his legs tightly around Archie’s hips to draw him closer. Archie’s movements faltered again, sped up briefly, then returned to the languorous pace he seemed determined to follow in spite of them both. Determined to snap Archie’s control much in the same way Archie had smashed his so many times before, Horatio twisted his hips and clenched the muscles of his arse. Archie’s eyes shot wide and he gasped. Even better, he quickened his pace before struggling to slow it down.

The battle was now joined in earnest as Archie’s self-control was pitted against Horatio’s determination. He might not have been as devious as Archie, but Horatio knew he had an ally in Archie’s own body. It would, Horatio knew, betray him soon enough. Horatio pulled Archie’s head down for a sloppy, open mouthed kiss as his blunt nails scraped along Archie’s back, lending an edge of pain to their pleasure. Archie hissed against Horatio’s mouth even as he began to move more forcefully inside him. Seeing victory at hand, Horatio jotted kisses along Archie’s neck. He licked at smooth flesh, blood warm and salty beneath his tongue and then, finding that sensitive patch of skin just below Archie’s ear, Horatio began to bite and suckle. Archie gave a low, shuddering moan and began to move urgently, hips snapping forward in an increasingly ragged, uncoordinated motion, any semblance of control shattered entirely.

Horatio’s prick lay squashed between them, the friction from their bodies pushing him closer to the brink. He clung to Archie, arms and legs wrapped around the other man’s body as Archie ground against him. Horatio bucked upwards again and again, meeting Archie’s thrusts, point and counterpoint. They couldn’t last much longer, he knew, as they writhed and rutted, the air filled with the sound of their guttural moans and harsh, gasping breaths. Horatio came first, his second climax almost as explosive as the first. Wetness spread across his belly and he clung even more tightly to Archie as his body shook and trembled with the aftershocks, the weight of Archie’s body the only thing grounding him as the languid sensation of floating began to suffuse his limbs.

Archie’s movements grew more and more erratic, his thrusts short and sharp and then he was coming as well. Horatio watched as the expression of concentration gave way to one of almost dumb surprise. Archie’s eyes grew wide and his mouth went slack as climax rose up and washed over him. He gave a cry almost like a sob before he collapsed fully upon Horatio, like a rag doll that had been cast aside, his prick still buried inside Horatio’s arse. Horatio held him tightly and his arms instinctively stroked along Archie’s back, his sides, soothing the faint tremors as his body continued to vibrate with the echo of fierce pleasure.

Horatio lay there pinned beneath Archie’s body, Archie’s face pressed into the crook of his neck as the haze of satiation settled over them both like a veil. He remained quiet, waiting for his heart to cease pounding and his breathing to return to normal as the sweat cooled upon his skin and the chill of the evening began to seep into his bones, despite the fire burning low in the hearth and the warm body draped across his like a blanket.

Archie stirred at last. He sighed deeply against Horatio’s neck and made a sound low in his throat that sounded suspiciously like a purr before he raised his head and looked at Horatio with heavy lidded eyes, a stupid, doting grin stretched across his face.

“That was nice,” Archie announced and Horatio kissed him quickly before Archie’s reason returned. Archie melted into him, pliant and drowsy in the aftermath, quiescent in a way that he never was at any other time. Unable to bear the cold any longer, he finally nudged Archie in the side and tumbled him to the bed, earning him a frown and a murmur of complaint for his efforts. Horatio sat up quickly and pulled the blankets up from the foot of the bed where they had been pushed during their exertions and covered them both. Ensconced beneath the blankets, Archie rolled over and draped himself half across Horatio’s body, a leg neatly insinuated between Horatio’s.

“Promised to keep you warm,” Archie mumbled before he yawned hugely. “Sorry. Tired.”

Horatio smiled. “So I see.” He reached up and trailed his fingers along Archie’s cheek, winning him a small, contented smile. “Goodnight, Archie. Pleasant dreams.”

“Mmm…Goodnight, Horatio.” Archie’s eyes fluttered closed and he fell to sleep almost at once, his smile following him into slumber’s gentle embrace.

Horatio gazed up at the shadows that stretched across the ceiling overhead, the reassuring sound of Archie’s breathing filling his ears. Horatio doubted he would ever be able to entirely free himself from the impulse to keep Archie safe. It was only natural to want to protect that which one held dear, and there was nothing more precious to him than the man sleeping peacefully in his arms, heavy and warm and vibrantly alive. But he also knew that Archie was right; he needed to learn to stand alone, free of the doubts and fears that had once hobbled him. Free, even, from well-intentioned attempts to cosset him. Archie had worked so hard to put his past behind him, to be the officer and the man he was always meant to be. Perhaps it was time for Horatio to do the same.

Horatio blew out the candle beside the bed then leaned down and pressed a kiss to Archie’s brow. “Sleep well, Mr. Kennedy.”

With that, Horatio closed his eyes and surrendered himself to deep, peaceful sleep.

Fin