FICLET: All in the Golden Afternoon - Hornblower
For xbeyondinsanex who, roughly a billion years ago, asked for Horatio/Archie, hot
All in the Golden Afternoon
Archie lay on the grass, his naked body glistening with water droplets in the sun. His eyes were closed and he was mostly silent, though there were occasional low sounds of pleasure from the balm of the heat. Horatio watched him from a short distance away, his own shirt hanging loose and his stock laid carefully on the top of his jacket across the flat rock beside the messy jumble of Archie’s hastily discarded clothes.
“You should try it, Horatio.” Archie squinted at him, turning his head slightly. “The water is perfect.” His mouth crooked in a grin. “Though your affinity for diving into the ocean might find offense at the containment of such a small body of water.”
Horatio smiled and shook his head. “I’ll leave it to you today, Archie, to plumb the waters of the deep.”
“What’s the matter, Horatio? Grown tired of getting wet?” Archie turned on his side to face Horatio, his blue eyes almost invisible in the sun. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Perhaps I’ve simply grown tired of diving in too deep.” Horatio rose and walked toward Archie, kneeling beside him. Archie looked up at him and smiled, his eyes nearly closing as Horatio’s fingers settled on his hip, tracing the few remaining droplets not dried by the sun. “In this heat, it would be no chore to get wet.”
Archie rolled onto his back, breathing deeply as Horatio’s fingers trailed to his stomach, just above the growing hardness of Archie’s erection. “Careful, Mr. Hornblower.”
“You wish me to be careful, Mr. Kennedy?”
Archie’s eyes drifted closed as Horatio’s long, sure fingers navigated over skin and hair, teasing taut muscle. “Not careful, no.” He opened his eyes just enough that the light glinted off his lashes. “Caution may be overrated.”
Horatio’s lips quirked at the corner, giving them a hint of smile. “Of course, if you prefer we proceed with the utmost care…”
“Horatio,” Archie growled softly, his hips rising instinctively, searching for the promise of contact, as the loose sleeve of Horatio’s shirt fell lightly across the head of his shaft.
“That sounds much more like the Mister Kennedy I know. Bold and reckless and damn the consequence.” Horatio wraps his hand around Archie’s thickness, stroking him slowly. “Like one of those infernal horses you like so much, demanding to be given your head.”
“Horatio.” Archie moans softly, reaching over to stroke his hand along Horatio’s thigh. His fingers claw lightly at the material as Horatio increases the speed of his hand, tightening his grip. Archie’s heels and fingers dig into the grass as his body arches. His muscles constrict as he gets closer, the steady rhythm of Horatio’s hand pushing him inexorably toward the edge. He spends himself in the palm of Horatio’s hand, the thick liquid coating his shaft as Horatio keeps stroking. He shudders through it until his senses overload and he pushes Horatio’s hand away, grabbing his wrist and forcing him back, hands in the grass and sprawling onto his back as Archie scrambles at his breeches, unfastening them.
There is no need for words as Archie frees Horatio from his trousers, curving his hand around Horatio’s hardened shaft and guiding it to his mouth. His own fingers sink into the black dirt beneath the grass as he sinks on hands and knees and takes Horatio deep, hot and suckling, listening as Horatio stammers uncertain syllables into the heavy afternoon air. It doesn’t take long before Archie feels the tightening of Horatio’s body, the threat of his loss of control and he pulls back, stroking Horatio the last few moments to completion.
Afterward they both breathe roughly and heavily, the heat oppressive now on their sweaty skin. Horatio is the first to move, undressing and heading for the water, diving in and disappearing beneath the surface before Archie can even find his feet.
All in the Golden Afternoon
Archie lay on the grass, his naked body glistening with water droplets in the sun. His eyes were closed and he was mostly silent, though there were occasional low sounds of pleasure from the balm of the heat. Horatio watched him from a short distance away, his own shirt hanging loose and his stock laid carefully on the top of his jacket across the flat rock beside the messy jumble of Archie’s hastily discarded clothes.
“You should try it, Horatio.” Archie squinted at him, turning his head slightly. “The water is perfect.” His mouth crooked in a grin. “Though your affinity for diving into the ocean might find offense at the containment of such a small body of water.”
Horatio smiled and shook his head. “I’ll leave it to you today, Archie, to plumb the waters of the deep.”
“What’s the matter, Horatio? Grown tired of getting wet?” Archie turned on his side to face Horatio, his blue eyes almost invisible in the sun. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Perhaps I’ve simply grown tired of diving in too deep.” Horatio rose and walked toward Archie, kneeling beside him. Archie looked up at him and smiled, his eyes nearly closing as Horatio’s fingers settled on his hip, tracing the few remaining droplets not dried by the sun. “In this heat, it would be no chore to get wet.”
Archie rolled onto his back, breathing deeply as Horatio’s fingers trailed to his stomach, just above the growing hardness of Archie’s erection. “Careful, Mr. Hornblower.”
“You wish me to be careful, Mr. Kennedy?”
Archie’s eyes drifted closed as Horatio’s long, sure fingers navigated over skin and hair, teasing taut muscle. “Not careful, no.” He opened his eyes just enough that the light glinted off his lashes. “Caution may be overrated.”
Horatio’s lips quirked at the corner, giving them a hint of smile. “Of course, if you prefer we proceed with the utmost care…”
“Horatio,” Archie growled softly, his hips rising instinctively, searching for the promise of contact, as the loose sleeve of Horatio’s shirt fell lightly across the head of his shaft.
“That sounds much more like the Mister Kennedy I know. Bold and reckless and damn the consequence.” Horatio wraps his hand around Archie’s thickness, stroking him slowly. “Like one of those infernal horses you like so much, demanding to be given your head.”
“Horatio.” Archie moans softly, reaching over to stroke his hand along Horatio’s thigh. His fingers claw lightly at the material as Horatio increases the speed of his hand, tightening his grip. Archie’s heels and fingers dig into the grass as his body arches. His muscles constrict as he gets closer, the steady rhythm of Horatio’s hand pushing him inexorably toward the edge. He spends himself in the palm of Horatio’s hand, the thick liquid coating his shaft as Horatio keeps stroking. He shudders through it until his senses overload and he pushes Horatio’s hand away, grabbing his wrist and forcing him back, hands in the grass and sprawling onto his back as Archie scrambles at his breeches, unfastening them.
There is no need for words as Archie frees Horatio from his trousers, curving his hand around Horatio’s hardened shaft and guiding it to his mouth. His own fingers sink into the black dirt beneath the grass as he sinks on hands and knees and takes Horatio deep, hot and suckling, listening as Horatio stammers uncertain syllables into the heavy afternoon air. It doesn’t take long before Archie feels the tightening of Horatio’s body, the threat of his loss of control and he pulls back, stroking Horatio the last few moments to completion.
Afterward they both breathe roughly and heavily, the heat oppressive now on their sweaty skin. Horatio is the first to move, undressing and heading for the water, diving in and disappearing beneath the surface before Archie can even find his feet.