Title: I think he's got it
Word Count 323
Disclaimer This is pretty indefensible
I Think He's Got It
It was morning. The air of the room was cold. Archie's nose was cold, where it poked over the edge of the blankets. He could see the rain smearing as it struck the small pale window.
“I thought summer on the Spanish coast was warm and dry,” Horatio said. “I thought the rain was –more inland, you know, on the plain.”
“Mmhumm.” Archie burrowed closer against Horatio's warm skin. He didn't want to talk about the relative dampness of Spain. He had walked the width of it, and France as well. He had thirsted and shivered and bled. And now it was over. He was safe. He was more than safe. Horatio's comfort and heat, was wrapped around him, and the sound of his breath was there, and the taste of his skin, still salty from the beach the day before.
Horatio's hand came around and began to scratch Archie's sunburned shoulders. The skin there was pink and hot and itchy. Somehow, Horatio, who did not sunburn, knew exactly what to do.
“Feels good.” Archie said faintly.
“You have sand in your hair.” Horatio said.
'Will you comb and braid it for me later?”
“Well. I'll comb it if you really want, Archie. But I think its a little short to braid.”
“Eeep!” And Archie was laughing helplessly, and surely this was not a prison.
Horatio was combing through Archie's lower hair with his fingers. There was sand, Archie could feel it now, moving against his skin.
“I doubt even Matthews could braid this hair.” Horatio continued.
“He's very talented, years of experience.... He can do anything with rope.”
“ That's not rope.”
“Its the color of rope, well--wet rope.”
“Archie! I didn't know you felt that way about Matthews.”
“Come here, idiot.”