Summary: One rainy night in Plymouth
Category: Romance, drama
Pairing: Horatio/Archie
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers/Warnings: none
Notes
Disclaimer

Archie hated the rain. 

That hadn´t always been true. In his younger days, he´d rather enjoyed it. As a boy, he could think of no better occupation than splashing his way through puddles, to return home sopping wet and spattered with mud, to his nurse´s dismay and his mother´s indulgent sighs. When he´d grown older, he´d come to enjoy the pleasure of sitting in his father´s library, curled up near the fire with Shakespeare or Donne, or on rare occasion, one of the saucier books that his older brother Robert kept hidden at the bottom of his linen chest, the sound of the rain against the window panes a soothing counterpoint. 

Of course, that was before he joined the navy and learned what it was to be well and truly wet. Nothing had quite prepared him for the wretchedness of standing watch during a deluge while rain mercilessly poured down hour after hour. Archie knew too well the misery of rain dripping from the brim of his bicorn to trickle uncomfortably beneath his collar, and how it stung at his exposed skin and soaked through his boat cloak, no matter how well oiled it might be. 

Nor was the unpleasant sensation of damp limited to the deck. Even a ship as hale as the Indefatigable leaked to a certain degree when it rained. No amount of pitch or caulking could entirely banish the damp that seeped through the planks and the bulkheads until the air was heavy and moist and chilled them all right through to the bone. Nothing to be done for it, of course, so they endured it as stoically as they could and complained to their mates who made sympathetic noises in between their own bouts of complaints. It was the way of things at sea and with time, one became accustomed to it.  

But that didn´t mean one had to enjoy it, and after a week of solid rain, Archie was looking forward to the prospect of being warm and dry again, if only for a brief time. 

For past three months, the Indefatigable had been on Channel duty, patrolling the waters from Plymouth to Ushant and back again. Tedious duty, and the recent rains had made it even more unpleasant than usual. When the packet boat came bearing orders to return to Plymouth immediately, the sense of relief that permeated the ship was almost palpable as the damp. It was, as far as Archie was concerned, a thrice over blessing since it promised not only a change in duty, but an opportunity for shore leave and an escape from the bloody rainstorms. 
And so it was that two days later Archie found himself seated in a shore boat headed towards Plymouth landing, with Horatio at his side and a day´s shore leave beckoning him onward.
 
They hadn´t discussed any plans, but there had been no need. A shared glance and a nod was sufficient and shortly thereafter Archie was ushering Horatio inside one of the inns that lined the docks. 

Archie shut the door firmly behind him and removed his sodden hat, wiping his face with an equally damp arm. Beside him, Horatio shook his head like a dog fresh from the water, spraying droplets from his wet hair and dousing Archie again in the process. Archie didn´t complain; he couldn´t possibly get any wetter than he was at present. He led them through the taproom towards the rear of the building. It was early yet, but there were already a few tars seated near the fire, tankards in hand, warding off the damp in the time honored manner. Archie smiled; while a tankard had its appeal, he could think of better ways to get warm and dry. 

It was but the work of a few minutes to locate the inn keeper and negotiate a room for the night. They waved off his offer of hot water, informing him that water was the one thing they´d had in excess of late. The man had laughed at the remark and directed them upstairs before heading back into the tap room to see to his other patrons. They mounted the stairs, traversed the short hallway and let themselves into their room. 

The room was precisely as he´d expected: small, dingy, Spartan. Archie spared no more than this cursory look before he closed the door, slipped the latch into place and slammed Horatio against it, taking his mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss. 

Horatio made a small sound, more from surprise than protest as Archie plundered his mouth, his hands fisting tightly in the wet tangle of Horatio´s hair as he pressed himself against Horatio´s body. He was already more than half hard in his breeches, the long, chaste months at sea lending a sharpness and urgency to the desire that was always there, just simmering beneath the surface. Archie broke the kiss, only to nuzzle at Horatio´s neck. It was cold and wet, beaded with rain water that dripped from Horatio´s hair to trail slowly down, vanishing beneath his collar. Archie´s tongue slithered out and lapped at the skin, tasting the salt beneath fresh water, warming the flesh before he began to suckle upon it, making Horatio shiver deliciously. He heard the sound of his name as he bit down, nipping the skin before soothing it with the smooth slide of his tongue. Horatio shivered again. 

Archie´s hands slid downwards and he pushed Horatio´s cloak from his shoulders to fall to the floor with a sodden thud. Archie repeated the motion with Horatio´s jacket, desperate for the feel of bare skin beneath his questing hands. He began to tug at Horatio´s stock, cursing hands rendered clumsy by cold and desperate need. He heard the rumble of Horatio´s laughter, felt Horatio´s mouth as it crushed against his own, meeting Archie hunger for hunger. Stock removed, Archie began to tug at buttons, waistcoat, shirt, dimly aware that Horatio had begun to divest him of garments as well.
 
They broke the kiss so that Archie could tug Horatio´s shirt over his head and again so that Horatio could return the favor. They stood together, chest to chest, their clammy skin warming from the press of their bodies. Horatio´s arms snaked around him and he felt Horatio´s hands upon his arse as he pulled Archie closer in a sudden, sharp motion, to grind urgently against him. Archie wound his hands if Horatio´s hair once more to hold him in place, deepening the kiss until they were both dizzy and breathless, then kissed him again.
  
Horatio surged up against him, pushing him back and Archie nearly stumbled, his feet tangled in the pile of clothing abandoned at their feet. He caught himself then changed direction so that he was backing Horatio into the room, towards the narrow bed at the center of the room. The bed frame caught the back of Horatio´s knees. His arms tightened around Archie´s back as their combined weight sent them both tumbling to the mattress in a tangle of limbs.
 
Archie pulled back, gasping and gazed down at Horatio. Horatio´s cheeks were flushed, his lips as red and ripe as a summer plum but infinitely sweeter. Horatio gazed back at him with eyes that were as dark and unfathomable as the deepest ocean, save for the flash of hunger shining within. With a low growling sound, Horatio twined his hand in Archie´s hair and pulled him down for another kiss, more demanding than those that had gone before. Archie surrendered to it willingly. His cock was heavy, blood hot and he pressed insistently against Horatio, felt him rise up hard and hot, every bit as eager for release as Archie. 

Archie tore himself away from Horatio´s delirious kiss, and smiled to himself as Horatio´s growl of protest transmuted into moans of pleasure as Archie worked his way down his chest with lips and tongue and teeth. He bit sharply on Horatio´s right nipple, making him buck upwards with a sharp gasp. Horatio´s hands instinctively clutched at Archie´s head, holding him there so Archie continued to tease and torment, alternately biting the sensitive skin and lathing it with gentle strokes of his tongue, like a cat bathing a kitten.
 
Archie´s hands drifted downwards, gliding over Horatio´s belly until they reached their destination. He tugged at the buttons of Horatio´s breeches then yanked them down past his knees. One hand wrapped around Horatio´s cock and Archie began to stroke roughly at the heated flesh, watching him through slitted eyes. 

“Archie," Horatio growled. His hands grasped Archie´s upper arms tightly and then he pulled him down for another kiss, toppling Archie down on to his back on the bed cushion. They tussled and tangled on the narrow bed until Horatio pinned him and proceeded to unbutton Archie´s breeches and push them down until they puddle around his ankles. Naked now, save for his stockings, Archie looked up into a pair of smoldering brown eyes that gazed back at him with a ferocity Archie had only seen on the deck of the Indy in the midst of battle. Archie shivered, a thrill of anticipation racing along his spine. He did not, however, anticipate, what came next. 

“Fuck me, Archie."
 
“Horatio?" Archie blinked, startled and aroused as much by the unexpected crudity as by the request itself. Never before had Horatio been so forward and it excited Archie beyond measure. 

“Fuck me," he said, his eyes suddenly as unyielding as agate. Archie felt another sharp thrill of hunger, fascinated by Horatio´s unexpected determination. Horatio held his gaze a moment longer before he shifted farther down the bed and took Archie fully in his mouth. 

Archie cried out in pleasure and he pressed his fist tightly to his mouth to smother the sounds that he could not hold back as Horatio sucked at him relentlessly. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breath, exquisite sensations flooding through him as that talented, demanding mouth worked him expertly. He moaned in frustration when the sensations stopped abruptly. He opened his eyes to see Horatio gaze at him with those smoldering eyes, his lips red and swollen and shiny with his own spit. 

“Fuck me, Archie," he said again before he crawled up the bed and settled on hands and knees, his smooth, pale arse presented like a trophy. 

Archie could no more have refused Horatio´s request at that moment than he could have stopped the earth in its motion. Rising up on his knees, Archie rested his palms against Horatio´s backside, feeling warm flesh and hard muscle then slid his thumbs into the crack and gently pressed the mounds of flesh apart to expose the entrance to Horatio´s body. Taking a deep breath, Archie moved into position, and pressed slowly forward. The urge to thrust was powerful, but Archie held himself to stillness, willing his body to an almost inhuman degree of control. Spit was better than nothing, he knew, but not by much and he was determined that he would not cause Horatio undue pain.  

Horatio, however, had other ideas. With a suddenness that took Archie completely unawares, Horatio pressed back and Archie could feel the head of his cock push through the ring of muscle and the rest of his slide forward until he was sheathed entirely. He gasped at the sensation of heat and pressure and silken flesh and then he was moving, they both were, thrust and counter thrust, advancing and withdrawing as if engaged in some mad skirmish. Archie clutched Horatio´s hips, holding him tightly, as the room filled with the sound of slapping flesh and rasped moans of pleasure. 

“Yes," Horatio gasped, the word drawn out like the sibilant hiss of a snake as Archie moved within him, his own body undulating and writhing in pleasure. They moved together at a desperate pace; after months of forced abstinence, they were like a pair of starving men set before a banquet, ravenous and unheeding of anything beyond their own burning hunger and Archie knew they could not possibly last much longer. Reaching around, he took Horatio´s cock in his hand and began to pump him in time with his own frantic rutting, the exquisite sounds issuing from Horatio´s mouth simply enflaming him further. 

Archie felt the heat building, coiling tightly in his belly as he raced towards completion. His hand sped up as he stroked Horatio roughly, pushing, demanding his release. Horatio suddenly stiffened and with a cry he came, his seed spilling over Archie´s hand. Horatio collapsed to the bed, and Archie followed him down as his own release rose up and washed over him. His hips jerked several times as he emptied himself and then he lay still, draped across Horatio´s body, almost insensate as he floated on a wave of pleasure.
 
Archie finally slid from Horatio´s body and collapsed beside him, flinging an arm across his eyes. He felt rather than saw Horatio roll over onto his side to press against him, his body warm and damp from their exertions. Archie moved his arm then and looked over at Horatio who watched him with sleepy, sated eyes, a contented smile gracing his features. Archie reached over and traced his smile with a fingertip, feeling it stretch wider beneath his touch.
  
Horatio leaned over and kissed him then. It was a slow, languorous kiss tasting of tenderness and satisfaction. The earlier desperation had burned away, leaving only the faintest residue, a piquant undertone to the overlying sweetness of the embrace. It made for a heady mix indeed. 

They lay there on the narrow bed, limbs entwined, hands idly stroking bared skin, their fierce hunger sated for the time being. The room was quiet and dim, the patter of the rain against the window panes and their own breathing the only sounds to be heard, It was pleasant just to lie together like this, to be able to touch freely and to drink in the sight of one another without the barrier of clothing, without the fear of being caught out by prying, unwelcome eyes. Archie let his eyes drift across Horatio´s body, down the familiar planes of his body, the curve of his bicep, smooth expanse of his chest, the jut of his hipbone… 

Archie´s gaze halted abruptly, his eyes widening in surprise. There, standing out in stark contrast to the pale skin of his hips, were a series of bruises made by the press of fingers digging deeply, painfully into flesh. They were red at present but Archie knew they would darken soon enough, turning ugly shades of blue and purple. Archie gazed at them in sick fascination, horrified at the damage he´d inflicted. He´d never used Horatio so roughly before and although the other man had given no sign of discomfort, nor uttered one word of protest, Archie felt vaguely ill about it in the aftermath. His hand drifted down to Horatio´s left hip. It hovered there, just above the skin, not touching. Archie almost believed he could feel the heat coming off the bruises, but that was probably nothing more than fancy. 

He bit his lip and looked back at Horatio´s face, peaceful in slumber, his lips still tipped upward in a ghost of a smile. Archie´s eyes drank in the sight as avidly as a man dying of thirst might gaze upon a cool, clear spring. But then his eyes drifted down again of their own volition to the marks he had left upon Horatio´s body and his chest tightened. 

“I´m sorry, Horatio."
 
He didn´t realize that he´d said the words aloud until Horatio peered up at him through heavy lidded eyes. Apparently he had not been as deeply asleep as Archie had thought. 

“Hmmm…?" 

Archie sighed. “I said, ‘I´m sorry, Horatio´." 

Horatio blinked at him, his features still blurry from sleep. “For what?" 
“That," he said, gesturing with one hand towards the bruises decorating Horatio´s hip. 

Horatio rose up on one elbow and gazed in the direction indicated and frowned. He made a faint, non-committal noise and looked back at Archie, clearly bemused.  

Archie frowned in return and it suddenly dawned on him that Horatio´s confusion stemmed not from the marks but rather from Archie´s own disconcertment. 
“I hurt you." 

Horatio blinked, slowly, in a manner that made him appear more owlish than usual. His face softened as realization set in. He reached over and cradled Archie´s cheek in one hand and gave him a gentle smile.
 
“You didn´t, Archie. Not in the slightest." 

“The marks on your body say otherwise." 

Horatio shook his head. “I assure you, Archie, I did not even notice. The pleasure far outweighed any fleeting discomfort that might have occurred. It was extraordinary." Horatio´s smile became doting. “You were extraordinary." 

Archie felt his cheeks heat at the compliment and he took a steadying breath. Horatio was watching him, his _expression thoughtful. 

“This troubles you," he said, going directly to the heart of the matter. 

Archie nodded. “It does. I didn´t intend to hurt you. I would never hurt you," Archie swore with a vehemence that took his by surprise and Horatio not at all. 

“I know, Archie. That is why I could do this with you. Because I trust you. I could never…not with anyone else. But with you, I don´t need to hold myself tightly. With you I am free to be myself. Do you understand?" 

Horatio, for all his cunning in battle and his calm demeanor at the whist table, was a remarkably poor liar. He´d never been able to lie to Archie and it was clear that he wasn´t lying now. His _expression was so earnest that all of Archie´s worries vanished at once. Archie shook his head. 

“You must think me a great fool." 

“No, I don´t," Horatio said, gazing fondly back at him. “On the contrary, I´m touched by your care for me. I´m always safe in your keeping, just as you will always be safe in mine." 

Archie turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to Horatio´s palm where it still rested on his cheek before he moved down Horatio´s body, jotting kisses as he went. When he reached Horatio´s hip he peered back up at the other man who watched him intently. Leaning down, Archie placed a soft kiss on the uppermost bruise, then moved on to the next and the one after, kissing each in turn. He looked back at Horatio and gave him a mischievous grin. Horatio´s mouth twitched in barely restrained amusement as Archie moved to the other hip and repeated the same procedure. 

“Are you going to kiss all my injuries and make them better, Mr. Kennedy?" 
“That was my plan, sir."
 
“I see." Horatio´s _expression turned thoughtful. “I should warn you, I have a great many injuries and they are all clamoring for your attention." 

Archie cocked a brow at him. “Really?" 

“Mm-hmm." 

Archie feigned surprise. “I do not see any other injuries." 

“They are deep, sir. Very deep. They will require special care." 

“Like this?" Archie asked, before placing a light kiss on the head of Horatio´s cock. It gave a distinct twitch that made Archie smile in mindless delight. 

“Yes," Horatio replied gravely. “That organ in particular is crying out for your ministrations."
 
“I see. Well, I shall do what I can, but I make no promises for a rapid recovery. It could take hours of painstaking care." 

A grin was threatening to break out on Horatio´s face. “Hours?" 

Archie nodded, his face the very picture of solemnity. “Hours, days, perhaps even weeks." 

“Oh dear." 
“Never fear, sir. I am committed to your health and well-being. I stand ready to devote the rest of my life to your care if that´s what it takes." 

Horatio´s mouth stretched into a slow grin and though his _expression was one of amusement, there was a profound softness in his eyes as they held Archie´s. Archie didn´t look away. 

“Then I am truly the most fortunate man alive," Horatio said, his voice soaked with tenderness. “I am at your disposal for as long as you wish."

Archie smiled at him, a bright genuine smile to match Horatio´s own. “Then I advise you to get comfortable, sir, and let me get back to my ministrations." 

“With pleasure, Archie." 

“Always, Horatio. Always." 

 
Finis

Notes:  Many thanks to Janis Cortese for the very thoughtful beta. This story is set sometime between "The Wrong War" and "Mutiny"