itle: On Going Home, Chapter 10
Rating: Strong R
Word Count: 1719
Disclaimer: I did not invent them
On Going Home, Chapter 10
“Oh no, Horatio, sweetheart. It's nothing to weep over.”
Horatio's mouth was trembling in a tense parabola. His eyelashes were wet. He had his arms crossed over his naked chest. His cheeks were chapped red with tears and kissing, and stray curls of his hair were stuck to them. He looked delicious.
“It's love Horatio.” Archie found himself saying nonsensically. “It's all right. Don't be afraid. It's going to be fine. I love you too.” Archie pulled him close, overwhelmed himself. The world, after one of his fits had passed, was rain-washed and bright It always felt, the day after, as if the awful event had sharpened his senses, to a painful killing edge.
Touching Horatio when he felt this way, was so good, and nosing the tears away, Archie felt like a child in a fairy story. He had suddenly been given all his dearest wishes, complete with magic beans, and flying carpets. Horatio slumped against him, shuddering. The admission had riven him.
Archie found himself rubbing the smooth skin of Horatio's back, Horatio's skin was white and fresh, his back still narrow with boyhood. Nobody had marked Horatio. He had come into Justinian innocent of physical pain. Perhaps alone, in all of His Majesty's Navy, Horatio had never been beaten at home. He had never been caned at school. Simpson's attack on him, mild as Archie knew it to be, had been something from another planet. Simpson had held him down, “A fancier of other boys perhaps.” And the blood then, and the pain. Mastheaded then, all alone in the world. No one to comfort him.
Nonsense tumbled from Archie's mouth. Fond silly words came, that he did not even know he knew. “Oh Sweetheart, Lovey, Honey-bee.”
Was this what love was then? The need to comfort, like a rising weakness inside Archie, his heart pounding, and the need to be soft, soft and kind. And all wrapped around and restraining the carnal needs that still clamored to be explored. Archie knew that he knew only in part, only in pain and fear. He was determined that Horatio not even feel a whisper of the echo of that pain.
Archie drew a deep breath. Horatio even smelled good. There was a sweet speckled bump behind Horatio's ear. Archie gave it comforting lick. Still, no help for it, the day had come. Time to go down, before someone came to find them. “Lets get dressed and go downstairs Horatio. Coffee.”
Horatio snuffled hopefully and reached for his shirt.
The coffee sat in the middle of the table. There was a note resting against on the sand saucer before it.
'Called away to delivery. Back when able.' It said.
“Your father delivers babies?” Archie said. “Isn't that unusual? Most physicians feel it beneath them.”
“My father assists sometimes in difficult presentations. The midwife likes him, and calls him in if she feels he can help. She says less die that way. I expect if he was called, he'll be gone for some time. Let's eat breakfast.”
Archie poured the coffee, he was trying not to picture 'difficult presentations'
Horatio was smiling now, dressed, and looking much more like himself. He still looked delicious.
“Oh, Archie, look. Strawberries!” He held up a basket. “Let's go eat them in the sun.”
The stone step was warm beneath Archie, and the air was fresh. The strawberries were the tiny sweet a
and wild . The smell of them brought water to Archie's mouth. “I have not had strawberries in years.” He said.,
“Well then. There is not a moment to loose.” Horatio sorted through them rapidly, and gave Archie more than half. “Take these, Archie. These are the best ones.”
“Oh – I.”
Horatio took one, rubbed it against Archie's lower lip with it.“You are a guest, Archie.” He said. “Must I feed them to you? I am known to be very fierce. Be assured, I will not hesitate.” Horatio's eyes were dark and huge. He did, in fact look fairly fierce. Archie opened his mouth, just slightly. He felt the rough dimpled skin, the tiny seeds, luring his mouth more open, and then then Horatio's fingers deftly putting the fruit on his tongue. Horatio smiled then, and pushed Archie's chin up, to close his mouth.
Archie crushed the first berry, and the flavor soared in his mouth. In his state of strange intensity he felt it, as sweet as childhood waning, and as wild as the new life to come.
“Your turn Horatio.” He said. As Archie's fruit stained fingers drew near, Horatio opened his mouth like a little bird. The interior was invisible, dark. But Archie knew it now. He closed Horatio's mouth with a kiss.
“What do you want to do today Archie?” Horatio asked. “I fear I have shown you a sadly dull time.”
Archie stared, incredulous. He shook his head.
“You have given me everything.” He said.
“Would you like to go back to the field today?” Horatio asked. “Or, or we could go somewhere new, or stay here...” He looked at Archie with that soft crooked smile. It was not one he ever used on the ship. Archie had come to know what the smile presaged, and it made him ache with want.
Archie reached out with the last strawberry. It was crushed, and weeping pulp. He teased Horatio's mouth with it, painting his lips with the weeping sweetness.
“Back to the field, if you please.” Archie said.
The day was still cool when they got to the field. It smelled of green and night, rather than the hot flowers of mid-day. The earth was cool and dark, at the base of the grasses, and the heads of the tallest stalks shone with dew.
On the ground the world was dim. He and Horatio were safe here, concealed. They could do whatever they wanted. Archie wanted everything.
Horatio was on the ground, his fingers at his shirt buttons. Archie drew him close. “Let me, Horatio. Let me do it.” The buttons were tiny ivory discs. They caught the light. He could hear the popping sound, fabric straining, as he forced each button loose. His eyes and ears were so sharp, the day after. He got two buttons open, and exposed a tender isosceles of Horatio's skin.
Horatio was kneeling now, knees apart slightly, feet together underneath. He was leaning back a little, His sweet hands were limp at his sides. His brows were drawn down slightly, his eyes were shut. Archie could do what he wanted. Horatio's chest was salty, and smooth. His breath was rabbit quick. Archie could feel his heart beating to quarters. Both their hearts. Oak. But it was the pricks that were like oak. Not yet, slow, slow.
“Oh Honeybee.” And where had that come from? It felt as good as touching, to speak such foolishness. Horatio did not seem to mind. Archie popped the last buttons, lifted the shirt free. His own sailed away a moment after. It caught on the stiff tall grass, and hung there, a white flag of surrender.
Archie eased Horatio down onto his back, smiling at the gawky unfolding of long legs and feet. Horatio looked up at him, grave, wanting. There was sweat in the declivity below his throat. The skin there was so soft. Horatio was whining now, just a little. His feet were moving restlessly. His hands had come up, to hold Archie's hips, not to caress, this time, but just to cling as Archie had it all his way. And that was just fine.
Archie slid down, his head at belly level. His choice now. No one to force him.
I used to love to do this. Archie reminded himself. I want to do this.
Horatio's abdomen was softly rounded, rocking with his rapid breath. Nuzzling there, Archie was able to rub his cheek, as if by accident, over the weeping straining prick. Horatio gave a full throated groan. His hands were clenched into the earth, dirt beneath his nails now.
I can do what I want.
Archie slid lower. The trousers opened easily. Archie eased them down and off. And there, it was going to be fine. Just Horatio, after all. Horatio trusting him, quivering a little with the waiting, but sure of Archie. Horatio never dreamed for a moment that Archie had feared this.
Archie reached up to capture Horatio's hands. He held them, and he went down the stalk. He nibbled his lips down, slid them smoothly back up.
“Oh God, oh oh God.” Tucking his hair (when had it come loose?) behind his ear, Archie could see Horatio's face, teeth clenched, eyes squeezed, at the limit of his vision.
Archie was still playing, still getting used to the idea. I'm doing this now. We both like it,
Time. Archie brought his mouth down for real, cupping his tongue, and folding his lip, as he had used to do. This time, an accidental bite would not bring a blow to the head. It would not bring a hot cigar down on his spine. This time, a bite by mistake would hurt the one he loved. That would be intolerable.
Not long now. Horatio was on the precipice. He was shuddering, the way he had when he had wept this morning. He was as sweet as wild strawberries, and everything was good. Archie had left the fear behind. Magic carpet, keys to the dream city. All of that, and Horatio begging for more. Archie reached out to touch Horatio's clenching balls, supported them gently. He suckled a little harder.
“Oh, Archie, it's now. Now.” Horatio said. And it was. And that was just fine too.
Panting, Archie came up level beside him. Horatio turned to face him, took his hands, kissed them. He would not know today that Archie had been afraid. But someday soon Archie knew he would tell him. Someday soon they would do all the feared things, and the innocence would wash Archie the rest of the way clean.
“My turn in a minute.” Horatio said.