Harboured and Encompassed, Chapter 5
Title: Harboured and Encompassed
Author: BBCPhile
Chapter: 5/25
Word Count: 3298
Pairing: Horatio Hornblower/Archie Kennedy
AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9135700/chapters/21454868
Summary: All Horatio wanted from his internship at the National Maritime Museum’s special collections was some time alone with the Nelson-era naval manuscripts. He didn’t expect to fall in love with one of the library patrons, an exuberant, confident actor about to make his film debut in a Napoleonic naval period piece.
All Archie wanted was to leave the nightmare of RADA and Simpson far behind, and to start preparing for the role that would change his life. The last thing he expected was to fall for an adorably gangly, socially awkward naval history nerd who worked the special collections desk.
But how do you navigate a new relationship when the past won’t stay in the past?
Something was tickling his nose.
After a few blinks, Horatio cracked his bleary eyes open.
Hair. Blond. Attached to a head.
Archie’s head.
A nice, comfortable weight against his shoulder.
Horatio’s eyes drifted shut and he nestled back into the cushions with a smile.
The words “Archie’s head” floated through his mind.
Horatio’s eyes shot open, only to flinch as the sun streamed in through the blinds. He held his breath as he stared at Archie, still fast asleep and pressed against his side, Horatio’s right arm sandwiched between Archie and the back of the sofa.
Horatio’s mind jolted into consciousness and tried to outrace his suddenly hammering pulse. How had he let this happen? The last thing he remembered was sitting in anxious silence after the documentary had finished, wracked with indecision about whether he should stay until Archie woke up or try to slip out quietly. He had been partway through making the mental list of pros and cons, each item tied to its potential outcome, but everything after that was a blank. The sleep deprivation from his pre-internship nerves must have finally caught up with him, and at the worst possible time.
Also, how had they even gotten into this position? Hadn't Archie been slightly further away? Oh, damn, had his exhausted brain decided to cuddle Archie like his long-lost childhood blanket? Or had Archie just listed over to the nearest available pillow-like surface?
Well, regardless, he should try to leave immediately, before Archie could realize he’d stayed the night uninvited if he didn't wish to jeopardize this newfound friendship.
Horatio pressed his lips together tightly as he tried to free the arm that Archie had pinned against the sofa with his shoulder. It was no use; he was stuck.
Horatio sighed and glanced over at Archie again. Archie looked so peaceful in his sleep, his brow unfurrowed, his face nuzzled against Horatio’s shoulder, his little huffs of breath ruffling his fringe.
Horatio tore his eyes away immediately. Surely it was invasive and inappropriate to watch someone while they slept. So why did his eyes keep sliding back to Archie, despite the lecture he’d given himself last night? What the hell was wrong with him?
He shook his head and stared resolutely at the window. No more looking at Archie. But what should he do? Wake Archie up? No, after yesterday’s emergencies, Archie needed all the sleep he could get.
Horatio started drumming his available fingers on his knee as he tried to make sense of yesterday. What had set off the nightmare? That epilepsy poster hadn’t listed them as seizure side effects. He only hoped his attempt at comforting had helped somewhat. He’d never had to do anything like that before: he’d never had enough friends to acquire such skills--apart from Will, of course, but Will probably had never needed to be comforted in his life. What must it be like, to be that steady?
He shook his head. He didn’t have time to get distracted thinking of his own inadequacies. All that mattered was that soon, Archie would wake up and be horrified at Horatio’s overstepping the bounds of friendship. What was the protocol for this sort of situation? He needed a plan right now!
Archie shifted slightly, and Horatio whipped his head back to look at him. Archie’s eyelids twitched, and he brought a hand up to rub at his closed eyes, before nuzzling deeper into Horatio’s embrace.
An instant later, Archie became impossibly still, then slowly tilted his head up, blinking repeatedly until his eyes found Horatio’s face, mere centimetres away.
Horatio’s frozen brain grasped desperately for some way to apologize.
“Oh! Hello!” Archie said with a sleepy grin that made Horatio’s breath catch in his throat. Archie’s eyes lingered on his before traveling down to his mouth. “Have you been awake long?”
“You -- No -- I, er, only just woke up! Archie, I am so sorry--”
Archie waved him off with a grin. “Horatio, don’t start. We both needed the sleep.” He paused, then smirked. “You especially, after the workout I gave you yesterday.”
Horatio felt his cheeks start to burn. He tried to come up with something to say, but his brain wouldn’t respond. Archie had fried his circuits. Full-scale system shutdown. He ducked his head and tried to focus. Why wasn't this a disaster? And was Archie flirting with him? No, that would be absurd. Clearly, Archie was just referring to those stairs. And was still partly asleep. He had to steer the conversation toward safer waters before he made an even bigger fool of himself.
“How are you feeling?”
Archie grinned. “Better. Ready to give the archives another go.”
Horatio froze, his stomach lurching. “Archie, what time is it?”
Archie blinked, then slowly sat up and pulled his phone out of his pocket with a frown. “7:30. Why?”
Horatio sprang off the sofa and started pacing. “I have to be there for training at 8:00! Damn! Damn damn DAMN! I haven’t shaved, or showered, or changed! I can’t show up looking like this on my second day!”
Archie stood up and walked to Horatio. He captured his flailing hands and looked him in the eyes. “Horatio, it’s fine. Help yourself to my razor, shower, towel, toiletries, whatever you need. You’re welcome to anything in my closet as well, but I doubt I have anything in your size. If you’re quick, you can make it with time to spare!”
Horatio hesitated, torn between propriety and responsibility, before nodding and dashing off, closing the door to the loo behind him. He stripped as quickly as possible, hanging his trousers and shirt from the hook on the back of the door. He climbed into the shower and wrenched the faucet on. He focused on the water splashing his skin. On lathering the soap. On methodically and rapidly applying it and rising it off. On repeating the process with shampoo. On the disgrace he’d feel if he arrived late. On literally anything but the smell of Archie’s soap on his body. The minty scent of Archie’s shampoo in his hair. The memory of Archie’s body against his.
He shook himself and turned the cold water tap up. He shivered as the freezing droplets reached him, cutting through his mental haze. He had made it through 21 years of his life without being distracted by anyone like this. So what was different about Archie? He shouldn’t be able to think about anything while running this late.
Horatio turned off the water, his teeth chattering. He allowed himself only a moment to relish the warmth of Archie’s fluffy blue towel wrapped around his shoulders before he began vigorously rubbing the water droplets off his limbs.
He glanced around, and his eyes fell on an electric razor in dismay. He far preferred the precision a bladed razor provided, but there was nothing for it. With a sigh, he got to work.
At 7:45, Horatio sprinted out of the loo, fully clothed and shaved, to find Archie standing in the kitchen, staring impatiently at a coffee maker.
“The expression about watched pots applies equally to coffee makers, I’m afraid. I don't suppose you could wait 5 more minutes?”
Horatio looked longingly at the coffee before shaking his head. Coffee was an acceptable loss. Mostly. “Thanks for the attempt.”
Archie’s face fell slightly, before he rallied with a small smile. “Of course.”
Horatio opened his mouth to take his leave, but realised he hadn't the faintest idea what to say. “I had a lovely time”? Too insensitive. “See you at the library”? Too presumptuous. “Thanks for sleeping with me last night”? Impossible. He settled for nodding and took a step towards the door.
Archie stopped his progress with a gentle hand on his forearm. Horatio paused and turned, staring at the hand touching him before meeting the eyes earnestly awaiting his. Archie gave him a soft smile, then enveloped him in a tight hug. “Thanks,” he whispered into Horatio’s neck.
Horatio froze and his back stiffened, his arms fixed by his side. His mind was racing. Should he hug back? Where exactly should he put his arms? Once he returned the hug, how many seconds should he maintain it before it became inappropriate?
Suddenly, the warmth was gone. Archie had dropped his hands, stepped back, and was scratching the back of his neck while staring at the floor. “Right. Got it. Enjoy work.”
To his horror, Horatio realised he had entirely failed to do anything in response to the hug, apart from thinking himself into knots.
On impulse, Horatio threw himself forward and flung his arms around Archie--forcefully enough to wring a quiet “Ooof” out of him--and held him for three seconds precisely, before stepping back. “You’re welcome,” he said to the floor, before fleeing, flinging the door shut behind him.
********
Horatio sprinted down the steps without looking back and didn’t stop until he reached the Indy. He climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door, letting his head fall back and hit the seat. Every imbecile knew how to hug! And now Archie had seen exactly how incompetent he was at friendship after that embarrassing display!
His phone vibrated, bringing him back to the present. He dug his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the text messages. They were all from Will:
7:30pm:
How’s the Caird? Staying late?
11pm:
Beds are strictly better than desks for sleeping. Go to bed, Horatio.
7:46am:
Hope your first day went well. Call when you have the chance.
Horatio groaned. He had completely forgotten he’d promised to Skype with Will at 7 last night. And, of course, Will had taken it in stride, without a single complaint. Will was much too good to him. He sent off a quick text--“Sorry, didn’t make it home last night. I’ll call tonight”--pulled up directions on Google Maps, and drove off.
********
By 10am, Horatio’s stomach was growling and his caffeine-withdrawal headache was in full force. It didn’t help that Mr. Matthews had been telling all their colleagues about his bravery and level-headedness during yesterday’s emergency, so everyone was treating him like some sort of conquering hero. Mr. Matthews had personally witnessed his feeble attempt to carry Archie out of the library, so he of all people should know not to describe it in such a glamorous light. He hadn’t done anything momentous--anyone would have done the same, so he didn’t merit this attention. All he wanted was some food and, strangely, to see Archie. But instead, lunch was hours away. And as for the latter, there was no point in wishing for the impossible.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
Horatio’s head snapped up to see Archie, standing in front of the desk, a huge grin on his face.
“I thought you might want some breakfast,” Archie said, dangling a styrofoam coffee cup and small waxy plastic bag in front of Horatio.
Horatio smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. “Archie, this is . . . Thank you!” Then he glanced over his shoulder and saw Mr. Matthews and Mr. Styles watching them. He tried not to cringe, and adopted a more professional demeanor. “But, we’re not allowed to have food up here. It’s supposed to stay in the cloakroom on the Ground Floor. Didn’t Mr. Olroyd tell you that? He should be at the Information Desk there.”
Archie blinked, his smile faltering, and looked over his shoulder toward the stairs. “Oh. No, the desk was empty.”
Horatio frowned. “Oh.” He tried not to look too longingly at either the food or Archie. He was at work. That had to come first. “Er. Well, thank you for stopping by, but I’m on duty right now, so I couldn’t possibly--”
Mr. Matthews cut him off. “Nonsense. You go have a quick bite with your mate. We’ll cover for you.”
Horatio tried not to look too relieved at this sudden breach of protocol as he stumbled through his thank yous.
“Shall we?” Archie asked, gesturing toward the stairs, his smile back in full force.
Horatio nodded, then followed Archie down the stairs.
As he rounded the corner, Horatio heard Mr. Styles exclaim “Wait, that’s HIM?” over Mr. Matthews’ abortive attempts to shush him.
He hurriedly followed Archie the rest of the way down the staircase.
*********
“Wasn’t sure how you took your coffee, so I left it black,” Archie said, holding out the coffee cup once they had left the building.
Horatio snatched it and took an eager sip. He closed his eyes, savored the rich taste and bitter burn, and swallowed.
When Horatio opened his eyes again, Archie was staring at his throat, his lips parted slightly. At Horatio’s questioning glance, Archie blinked, shook his head, and chuckled. “That answers one question,” he said. “I had brought some creamer and sugar, just in case, but it looks like you’re more than happy with it as is.”
“Er, yes. Never seen the point in adding all those extra flavors. Why order coffee and then disguise the taste? You?”
Archie removed his backpack and took a clear plastic lidded cup with some sort of iced light brown creamy liquid from out of the side pocket. “My poison of choice: the sweeter the better.”
Horatio made a face. “What has that poor coffee done to you to deserve such treatment?”
Archie laughed. “I could ask you the same thing about your mouth. Why torture your tastebuds with coffee as bitter as Scrooge’s soul? Anyway,” he continued before Horatio could retaliate, “I hope you like croissants,” he said holding it out. “Unless,” he said with a smirk, pulling it back towards himself, “you had to swear off all French food when you began to study Her Majesty’s Navy?”
Horatio rolled his eyes as he snatched it from Archie. “No, Archie, I am still allowed to eat French pastries. And cheese, even.” He paused. “Not so sure about frog’s legs, though,” he said with a smile.
Archie chuckled. “No French restaurants. Got it. How do you feel about, say, Indian food? Food from former, brutally oppressed colonies should be just what the navy ordered.”
Horatio shrugged. “Never had it. I’m not particularly fond of spicy food, but I could
be convinced.”
Archie nodded and shot Horatio a quick smile, before glancing down at his hands. “Horatio,” he began, then stopped. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his eyelids fluttered slightly.
Horatio’s heart started hammering. Was this about his horrible hug technique? Or was Archie going to lecture him on the utter impropriety of spending the night uninvited?
Archie cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and met Horatio’s concerned gaze. “I’ve enjoyed our time together. Which is impressive, given that I’ve spent much of it in pain, screaming, unconscious, or all of the above. I’d like to get to know you better. Both of us fully conscious and emergency-free.” He licked his lip again, then tilted his head and met Horatio's wide eyes with a smirk. “And, since we jumped straight to waking up next to each other, I thought we could go back to some of the parts we missed. So: would you be interested in having dinner with me? As a date?”
Horatio was vaguely aware that his mouth was hanging open. Was he even interested in people, let alone men? Was that why he kept finding himself thinking about Archie? What were dates like? Where would he go to research this? What if he was terrible at it?
Archie took a step back, his hand in his pocket, an oddly bright smile plastered on his face, and started speaking more quickly. “But obviously, friends are fine. Great, even. If you’re interested.”
Horatio’s heart started hammering as Archie backed away from him. He had to say something to convince him to stay. “No!-- I mean--yes! Yes, I would like to have dinner with you.”
Archie paused. “Are you sure? There’s no pressure.”
Horatio weighed his options quickly. He hardly had any experience with friends beyond Will, so that would already be challenge enough. The idea of dating should fill him with dread. And yet, it didn’t. Well, not more than most things. What would dating entail? He imagined having his arms around Archie again, of waking up next to him, of his lips-- his face started to heat up and he cut off that progression immediately, attempting to curtail the embarrassed smile that kept threatening to take over his face. He had his answer.
“I’m sure. A -- date, sounds, er, good.”
Archie raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to try to assume that hesitance isn’t personal.”
Horatio kicked himself. They hadn’t even gone on the date and he was already making a mess of it. “It’s not.”
Archie looked at his eyes intently for a moment, then nodded and took a step closer. “Alright, then,” he said with a smile that made his eyes sparkle. “When would you like to go on this date? 6pm tonight?”
Horatio smiled back instinctively. “That should work.” Then he remembered the text. “Oh. Damn. I promised I’d call Will tonight. Would 7pm work?”
“7 is fine.” Archie paused and frowned slightly. “Who’s Will?”
“Hmm? Oh, my roommate, at King’s College London!”
Archie nodded, then looked sheepish. “Ah, right. Catching him up on your first day of the internship? That should be interesting.”
Horatio imagined telling Will that he woke up with Archie in his arms and was now going on a date. Will had been after him to get out more for years. Apparently all it had taken was a trip to Greenwich. “Very,” he agreed with a smile.
Archie raised an eyebrow again, as if waiting for something, then shrugged. “So, reservation for 8? Mogul Restaurant alright?”
Horatio nodded. “And I could pick you up at 7:45 if you’d like.”
Archie grinned. “I’d be honoured to sail the streets of Greenwich in the Indy again with you at its helm.”
Horatio opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again when he realised he had no idea what to say.
Archie laughed and slung his arm over Horatio’s shoulders, bringing their heads close together. “It means yes, Horatio.”
Horatio stiffened, unaccustomed to the touch, then brought his arm up to Archie’s shoulder to mimic the gesture. “Alright,” he said, turning his head to look at Archie. He started to grin as he looked into Archie’s eyes and relaxed under the comfortable weight of Archie’s arms around him.
If the rest of dating was like this, he could certainly figure it out.
Archie’s eyes dropped to his lips. Horatio’s heart started thudding eagerly. That was new.
He blinked to try to focus. He was at work. One shouldn’t think about . . . that sort of thing at work. “Oh! Damn! What time is it?”
Archie instantly withdrew his arm and moved further away. Horatio forced himself to not pull him closer.
“Oh, of course. You’re on the clock. Although,” Archie began with a mischievous, but slightly hesitant grin, “I can’t say I’m sorry I distracted you.”
Horatio smiled back. “Neither can I.”
Archie’s grin returned full-force. “Shall we go act like responsible adults?” he asked, gesturing towards the entrance. “I still need to pick up some light reading materials. I’ve heard from a reliable source that Norrie’s Navigation book is quite gripping.”
Horatio laughed as they walked toward to the door. “Only if you like trigonometry.”
“Oh, God, really?” Archie groaned, as he stopped and turned back to Horatio, blocking the entranceway. “Is there something else I could read? Literally ANYTHING else? A treatise on different types of knots, for instance?”
Horatio chuckled. “We’ll see what we can do. Come on, let’s go. I don’t actually have the catalogue memorised yet.”
He opened the door, and they walked inside.
Author: BBCPhile
Chapter: 5/25
Word Count: 3298
Pairing: Horatio Hornblower/Archie Kennedy
AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9135700/chapters/21454868
Summary: All Horatio wanted from his internship at the National Maritime Museum’s special collections was some time alone with the Nelson-era naval manuscripts. He didn’t expect to fall in love with one of the library patrons, an exuberant, confident actor about to make his film debut in a Napoleonic naval period piece.
All Archie wanted was to leave the nightmare of RADA and Simpson far behind, and to start preparing for the role that would change his life. The last thing he expected was to fall for an adorably gangly, socially awkward naval history nerd who worked the special collections desk.
But how do you navigate a new relationship when the past won’t stay in the past?
Something was tickling his nose.
After a few blinks, Horatio cracked his bleary eyes open.
Hair. Blond. Attached to a head.
Archie’s head.
A nice, comfortable weight against his shoulder.
Horatio’s eyes drifted shut and he nestled back into the cushions with a smile.
The words “Archie’s head” floated through his mind.
Horatio’s eyes shot open, only to flinch as the sun streamed in through the blinds. He held his breath as he stared at Archie, still fast asleep and pressed against his side, Horatio’s right arm sandwiched between Archie and the back of the sofa.
Horatio’s mind jolted into consciousness and tried to outrace his suddenly hammering pulse. How had he let this happen? The last thing he remembered was sitting in anxious silence after the documentary had finished, wracked with indecision about whether he should stay until Archie woke up or try to slip out quietly. He had been partway through making the mental list of pros and cons, each item tied to its potential outcome, but everything after that was a blank. The sleep deprivation from his pre-internship nerves must have finally caught up with him, and at the worst possible time.
Also, how had they even gotten into this position? Hadn't Archie been slightly further away? Oh, damn, had his exhausted brain decided to cuddle Archie like his long-lost childhood blanket? Or had Archie just listed over to the nearest available pillow-like surface?
Well, regardless, he should try to leave immediately, before Archie could realize he’d stayed the night uninvited if he didn't wish to jeopardize this newfound friendship.
Horatio pressed his lips together tightly as he tried to free the arm that Archie had pinned against the sofa with his shoulder. It was no use; he was stuck.
Horatio sighed and glanced over at Archie again. Archie looked so peaceful in his sleep, his brow unfurrowed, his face nuzzled against Horatio’s shoulder, his little huffs of breath ruffling his fringe.
Horatio tore his eyes away immediately. Surely it was invasive and inappropriate to watch someone while they slept. So why did his eyes keep sliding back to Archie, despite the lecture he’d given himself last night? What the hell was wrong with him?
He shook his head and stared resolutely at the window. No more looking at Archie. But what should he do? Wake Archie up? No, after yesterday’s emergencies, Archie needed all the sleep he could get.
Horatio started drumming his available fingers on his knee as he tried to make sense of yesterday. What had set off the nightmare? That epilepsy poster hadn’t listed them as seizure side effects. He only hoped his attempt at comforting had helped somewhat. He’d never had to do anything like that before: he’d never had enough friends to acquire such skills--apart from Will, of course, but Will probably had never needed to be comforted in his life. What must it be like, to be that steady?
He shook his head. He didn’t have time to get distracted thinking of his own inadequacies. All that mattered was that soon, Archie would wake up and be horrified at Horatio’s overstepping the bounds of friendship. What was the protocol for this sort of situation? He needed a plan right now!
Archie shifted slightly, and Horatio whipped his head back to look at him. Archie’s eyelids twitched, and he brought a hand up to rub at his closed eyes, before nuzzling deeper into Horatio’s embrace.
An instant later, Archie became impossibly still, then slowly tilted his head up, blinking repeatedly until his eyes found Horatio’s face, mere centimetres away.
Horatio’s frozen brain grasped desperately for some way to apologize.
“Oh! Hello!” Archie said with a sleepy grin that made Horatio’s breath catch in his throat. Archie’s eyes lingered on his before traveling down to his mouth. “Have you been awake long?”
“You -- No -- I, er, only just woke up! Archie, I am so sorry--”
Archie waved him off with a grin. “Horatio, don’t start. We both needed the sleep.” He paused, then smirked. “You especially, after the workout I gave you yesterday.”
Horatio felt his cheeks start to burn. He tried to come up with something to say, but his brain wouldn’t respond. Archie had fried his circuits. Full-scale system shutdown. He ducked his head and tried to focus. Why wasn't this a disaster? And was Archie flirting with him? No, that would be absurd. Clearly, Archie was just referring to those stairs. And was still partly asleep. He had to steer the conversation toward safer waters before he made an even bigger fool of himself.
“How are you feeling?”
Archie grinned. “Better. Ready to give the archives another go.”
Horatio froze, his stomach lurching. “Archie, what time is it?”
Archie blinked, then slowly sat up and pulled his phone out of his pocket with a frown. “7:30. Why?”
Horatio sprang off the sofa and started pacing. “I have to be there for training at 8:00! Damn! Damn damn DAMN! I haven’t shaved, or showered, or changed! I can’t show up looking like this on my second day!”
Archie stood up and walked to Horatio. He captured his flailing hands and looked him in the eyes. “Horatio, it’s fine. Help yourself to my razor, shower, towel, toiletries, whatever you need. You’re welcome to anything in my closet as well, but I doubt I have anything in your size. If you’re quick, you can make it with time to spare!”
Horatio hesitated, torn between propriety and responsibility, before nodding and dashing off, closing the door to the loo behind him. He stripped as quickly as possible, hanging his trousers and shirt from the hook on the back of the door. He climbed into the shower and wrenched the faucet on. He focused on the water splashing his skin. On lathering the soap. On methodically and rapidly applying it and rising it off. On repeating the process with shampoo. On the disgrace he’d feel if he arrived late. On literally anything but the smell of Archie’s soap on his body. The minty scent of Archie’s shampoo in his hair. The memory of Archie’s body against his.
He shook himself and turned the cold water tap up. He shivered as the freezing droplets reached him, cutting through his mental haze. He had made it through 21 years of his life without being distracted by anyone like this. So what was different about Archie? He shouldn’t be able to think about anything while running this late.
Horatio turned off the water, his teeth chattering. He allowed himself only a moment to relish the warmth of Archie’s fluffy blue towel wrapped around his shoulders before he began vigorously rubbing the water droplets off his limbs.
He glanced around, and his eyes fell on an electric razor in dismay. He far preferred the precision a bladed razor provided, but there was nothing for it. With a sigh, he got to work.
At 7:45, Horatio sprinted out of the loo, fully clothed and shaved, to find Archie standing in the kitchen, staring impatiently at a coffee maker.
“The expression about watched pots applies equally to coffee makers, I’m afraid. I don't suppose you could wait 5 more minutes?”
Horatio looked longingly at the coffee before shaking his head. Coffee was an acceptable loss. Mostly. “Thanks for the attempt.”
Archie’s face fell slightly, before he rallied with a small smile. “Of course.”
Horatio opened his mouth to take his leave, but realised he hadn't the faintest idea what to say. “I had a lovely time”? Too insensitive. “See you at the library”? Too presumptuous. “Thanks for sleeping with me last night”? Impossible. He settled for nodding and took a step towards the door.
Archie stopped his progress with a gentle hand on his forearm. Horatio paused and turned, staring at the hand touching him before meeting the eyes earnestly awaiting his. Archie gave him a soft smile, then enveloped him in a tight hug. “Thanks,” he whispered into Horatio’s neck.
Horatio froze and his back stiffened, his arms fixed by his side. His mind was racing. Should he hug back? Where exactly should he put his arms? Once he returned the hug, how many seconds should he maintain it before it became inappropriate?
Suddenly, the warmth was gone. Archie had dropped his hands, stepped back, and was scratching the back of his neck while staring at the floor. “Right. Got it. Enjoy work.”
To his horror, Horatio realised he had entirely failed to do anything in response to the hug, apart from thinking himself into knots.
On impulse, Horatio threw himself forward and flung his arms around Archie--forcefully enough to wring a quiet “Ooof” out of him--and held him for three seconds precisely, before stepping back. “You’re welcome,” he said to the floor, before fleeing, flinging the door shut behind him.
********
Horatio sprinted down the steps without looking back and didn’t stop until he reached the Indy. He climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door, letting his head fall back and hit the seat. Every imbecile knew how to hug! And now Archie had seen exactly how incompetent he was at friendship after that embarrassing display!
His phone vibrated, bringing him back to the present. He dug his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the text messages. They were all from Will:
7:30pm:
How’s the Caird? Staying late?
11pm:
Beds are strictly better than desks for sleeping. Go to bed, Horatio.
7:46am:
Hope your first day went well. Call when you have the chance.
Horatio groaned. He had completely forgotten he’d promised to Skype with Will at 7 last night. And, of course, Will had taken it in stride, without a single complaint. Will was much too good to him. He sent off a quick text--“Sorry, didn’t make it home last night. I’ll call tonight”--pulled up directions on Google Maps, and drove off.
********
By 10am, Horatio’s stomach was growling and his caffeine-withdrawal headache was in full force. It didn’t help that Mr. Matthews had been telling all their colleagues about his bravery and level-headedness during yesterday’s emergency, so everyone was treating him like some sort of conquering hero. Mr. Matthews had personally witnessed his feeble attempt to carry Archie out of the library, so he of all people should know not to describe it in such a glamorous light. He hadn’t done anything momentous--anyone would have done the same, so he didn’t merit this attention. All he wanted was some food and, strangely, to see Archie. But instead, lunch was hours away. And as for the latter, there was no point in wishing for the impossible.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
Horatio’s head snapped up to see Archie, standing in front of the desk, a huge grin on his face.
“I thought you might want some breakfast,” Archie said, dangling a styrofoam coffee cup and small waxy plastic bag in front of Horatio.
Horatio smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. “Archie, this is . . . Thank you!” Then he glanced over his shoulder and saw Mr. Matthews and Mr. Styles watching them. He tried not to cringe, and adopted a more professional demeanor. “But, we’re not allowed to have food up here. It’s supposed to stay in the cloakroom on the Ground Floor. Didn’t Mr. Olroyd tell you that? He should be at the Information Desk there.”
Archie blinked, his smile faltering, and looked over his shoulder toward the stairs. “Oh. No, the desk was empty.”
Horatio frowned. “Oh.” He tried not to look too longingly at either the food or Archie. He was at work. That had to come first. “Er. Well, thank you for stopping by, but I’m on duty right now, so I couldn’t possibly--”
Mr. Matthews cut him off. “Nonsense. You go have a quick bite with your mate. We’ll cover for you.”
Horatio tried not to look too relieved at this sudden breach of protocol as he stumbled through his thank yous.
“Shall we?” Archie asked, gesturing toward the stairs, his smile back in full force.
Horatio nodded, then followed Archie down the stairs.
As he rounded the corner, Horatio heard Mr. Styles exclaim “Wait, that’s HIM?” over Mr. Matthews’ abortive attempts to shush him.
He hurriedly followed Archie the rest of the way down the staircase.
*********
“Wasn’t sure how you took your coffee, so I left it black,” Archie said, holding out the coffee cup once they had left the building.
Horatio snatched it and took an eager sip. He closed his eyes, savored the rich taste and bitter burn, and swallowed.
When Horatio opened his eyes again, Archie was staring at his throat, his lips parted slightly. At Horatio’s questioning glance, Archie blinked, shook his head, and chuckled. “That answers one question,” he said. “I had brought some creamer and sugar, just in case, but it looks like you’re more than happy with it as is.”
“Er, yes. Never seen the point in adding all those extra flavors. Why order coffee and then disguise the taste? You?”
Archie removed his backpack and took a clear plastic lidded cup with some sort of iced light brown creamy liquid from out of the side pocket. “My poison of choice: the sweeter the better.”
Horatio made a face. “What has that poor coffee done to you to deserve such treatment?”
Archie laughed. “I could ask you the same thing about your mouth. Why torture your tastebuds with coffee as bitter as Scrooge’s soul? Anyway,” he continued before Horatio could retaliate, “I hope you like croissants,” he said holding it out. “Unless,” he said with a smirk, pulling it back towards himself, “you had to swear off all French food when you began to study Her Majesty’s Navy?”
Horatio rolled his eyes as he snatched it from Archie. “No, Archie, I am still allowed to eat French pastries. And cheese, even.” He paused. “Not so sure about frog’s legs, though,” he said with a smile.
Archie chuckled. “No French restaurants. Got it. How do you feel about, say, Indian food? Food from former, brutally oppressed colonies should be just what the navy ordered.”
Horatio shrugged. “Never had it. I’m not particularly fond of spicy food, but I could
be convinced.”
Archie nodded and shot Horatio a quick smile, before glancing down at his hands. “Horatio,” he began, then stopped. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his eyelids fluttered slightly.
Horatio’s heart started hammering. Was this about his horrible hug technique? Or was Archie going to lecture him on the utter impropriety of spending the night uninvited?
Archie cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and met Horatio’s concerned gaze. “I’ve enjoyed our time together. Which is impressive, given that I’ve spent much of it in pain, screaming, unconscious, or all of the above. I’d like to get to know you better. Both of us fully conscious and emergency-free.” He licked his lip again, then tilted his head and met Horatio's wide eyes with a smirk. “And, since we jumped straight to waking up next to each other, I thought we could go back to some of the parts we missed. So: would you be interested in having dinner with me? As a date?”
Horatio was vaguely aware that his mouth was hanging open. Was he even interested in people, let alone men? Was that why he kept finding himself thinking about Archie? What were dates like? Where would he go to research this? What if he was terrible at it?
Archie took a step back, his hand in his pocket, an oddly bright smile plastered on his face, and started speaking more quickly. “But obviously, friends are fine. Great, even. If you’re interested.”
Horatio’s heart started hammering as Archie backed away from him. He had to say something to convince him to stay. “No!-- I mean--yes! Yes, I would like to have dinner with you.”
Archie paused. “Are you sure? There’s no pressure.”
Horatio weighed his options quickly. He hardly had any experience with friends beyond Will, so that would already be challenge enough. The idea of dating should fill him with dread. And yet, it didn’t. Well, not more than most things. What would dating entail? He imagined having his arms around Archie again, of waking up next to him, of his lips-- his face started to heat up and he cut off that progression immediately, attempting to curtail the embarrassed smile that kept threatening to take over his face. He had his answer.
“I’m sure. A -- date, sounds, er, good.”
Archie raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to try to assume that hesitance isn’t personal.”
Horatio kicked himself. They hadn’t even gone on the date and he was already making a mess of it. “It’s not.”
Archie looked at his eyes intently for a moment, then nodded and took a step closer. “Alright, then,” he said with a smile that made his eyes sparkle. “When would you like to go on this date? 6pm tonight?”
Horatio smiled back instinctively. “That should work.” Then he remembered the text. “Oh. Damn. I promised I’d call Will tonight. Would 7pm work?”
“7 is fine.” Archie paused and frowned slightly. “Who’s Will?”
“Hmm? Oh, my roommate, at King’s College London!”
Archie nodded, then looked sheepish. “Ah, right. Catching him up on your first day of the internship? That should be interesting.”
Horatio imagined telling Will that he woke up with Archie in his arms and was now going on a date. Will had been after him to get out more for years. Apparently all it had taken was a trip to Greenwich. “Very,” he agreed with a smile.
Archie raised an eyebrow again, as if waiting for something, then shrugged. “So, reservation for 8? Mogul Restaurant alright?”
Horatio nodded. “And I could pick you up at 7:45 if you’d like.”
Archie grinned. “I’d be honoured to sail the streets of Greenwich in the Indy again with you at its helm.”
Horatio opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again when he realised he had no idea what to say.
Archie laughed and slung his arm over Horatio’s shoulders, bringing their heads close together. “It means yes, Horatio.”
Horatio stiffened, unaccustomed to the touch, then brought his arm up to Archie’s shoulder to mimic the gesture. “Alright,” he said, turning his head to look at Archie. He started to grin as he looked into Archie’s eyes and relaxed under the comfortable weight of Archie’s arms around him.
If the rest of dating was like this, he could certainly figure it out.
Archie’s eyes dropped to his lips. Horatio’s heart started thudding eagerly. That was new.
He blinked to try to focus. He was at work. One shouldn’t think about . . . that sort of thing at work. “Oh! Damn! What time is it?”
Archie instantly withdrew his arm and moved further away. Horatio forced himself to not pull him closer.
“Oh, of course. You’re on the clock. Although,” Archie began with a mischievous, but slightly hesitant grin, “I can’t say I’m sorry I distracted you.”
Horatio smiled back. “Neither can I.”
Archie’s grin returned full-force. “Shall we go act like responsible adults?” he asked, gesturing towards the entrance. “I still need to pick up some light reading materials. I’ve heard from a reliable source that Norrie’s Navigation book is quite gripping.”
Horatio laughed as they walked toward to the door. “Only if you like trigonometry.”
“Oh, God, really?” Archie groaned, as he stopped and turned back to Horatio, blocking the entranceway. “Is there something else I could read? Literally ANYTHING else? A treatise on different types of knots, for instance?”
Horatio chuckled. “We’ll see what we can do. Come on, let’s go. I don’t actually have the catalogue memorised yet.”
He opened the door, and they walked inside.