Small Moment
Title: Small Moment
Author Eglantine_br
Rating G
Word Count 582
Small Moment
He was working.
He was. Here was his pen in his hand. He was making notes. He was. Anyone could see that. And if Horatio had his ear was trained on the sound of cannon below, and his heart on the latch of the door-- well.
The roaring ended. The silence beat like wings. He was holding his breath. A minute, maybe two, no more than five, if all was well.
And there was the step. He twisted quick, to face the door.
Archie's eyes were red from smoke, his nostrils rimmed with black. The his face was pale where it was not caked with soot. He was still wearing the sling, over his uniform jacket. And he was smiling.
“How did it go?”
Horatio took the dirty hand, pulled Archie to stand between his knees
“Oh, they did very well. Came in under time. I had my watch out, but I could feel it. They were good.”
Horatio nodded. He knew. Speed was the thing, and the need to move smoothly in the heat and the noise and the crushing sweaty danger. That why they drilled, over and over and over. That is why His Majesty had a Navy that could out-shoot any on the sea. Practice. It was work.
But sometimes they soared. Sometimes there was that perfect evolution, when everything moved with synchronous speed. And when it was over, and the sweat stung the eyes and the ears were ringing like bells in the silence, men who were only human, could grin with justified pride.
Archie had been out two weeks. He had been frighteningly ill. He had kept his arm, but it had been a near thing. No one had said it to the men he worked with, the men he commanded. Not in so many words. But the ship was a small world. His men had given him perfection, to welcome him home.
“Sit down, you are swaying.” He gave the hand a tug.
“Aye, I am tired.”
Archie came willing to the deck, to sit, and lean against Horatio's knees. He tilted his head back with a deep sigh.
Horatio leaned forward. The kiss was upside down. It tasted of soot and smoke. It was none the worse for that. He rested his cheek on Archie's hair a moment.
“How is the arm?”
“Didn't think of it.”
Horatio had.
“I am to have the stitches out today anyhow.”
“Hmm.”
“I don't really want to go all the way up there and wait on the physicians convenience, Horatio.”
Archie said this with a slight curl of the lip. His tone was glacial. Horatio thought again of the small sick boy that Archie had been, and the adults who could only hurt him again and again, and not cure.
“Will you take my stitches out for me, Horatio?” And the airy diffidence hurt to hear. An old pain, this one, for them both.
“All right. In a minute.”
Horatio brought his hands to slide under Archie's hair. The braid was heavy and bright, even in the shadows where they sat. Archie tipped his chin down, and now Horatio could feel his neck-bones. Horatio pictured them, stacked, delicate, luminous, safe within strong muscle. He pressed into the muscle to ease the clench, and he heard Archie sigh.
“Better now?”
“Better.”
“Let me see the arm then.”