fluffnstuff | If it fits, it ships.

His laugh is entirely drowsy and perfectly contented. His lips are just a little sluggish at catching his husband's, arms squeezing tight again.

Nothing's really stopped them for ages now. That's wonderful to note.

He loves him all the time, yes. It's just that in moments like these, he's not entirely certain whether or not he loves him most when he's like this.

"God, 'ratio..." He has to lean in to steal another tender kiss, one hand lifting to brush fondly at his husband's cheek and stay there, fingertips resting slightly against his curls.

There's a teasing smile on his lips as he leans his forehead against Horatio's.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" he murmurs, eyes studying the other man's face adoringly, "Thou art more lovely and more temperate."

This is particularly wonderful. It will keep being wonderful when they're home again, true. It's just uniquely blissful to cling here with the rock of waves gentle beneath them and the scent of coffee wafting around them.

Somehow, it's even better to have Archie whispering adoringly like this.

It doesn't stop him from peppering in a kiss or two against his husband's jaw. Nothing will stop that.

The kisses earn a quiet chuckle. Have Archie's fingers drifting down to trace Horatio's jaw; have his lips pressing against his husband's temple before he continues to whisper the words into his ear, "Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer's lease hath all too short a date."

Another kiss is ghosted against Horatio's temple before Archie drifts back again to nudge his nose against his, murmuring the next few lines while his fingers shift along Horatio's jawline and move to run lovingly through his unruly curls.

"Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, and often is his gold complexion dimm'd. And every fair from fair sometime declines, by chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd."

This kiss is quickly stolen from Horatio's lips, before his own drop to press against Horatio's throat; the words mumbled against skin with a loving sort of lingering.

"But thy eternal summer shall not fade." The grin is obvious in his voice as his hands idly drop to trace against his husband's chest, "Nor lose possession of-- that fair thou ows't."

He loses his place for a few heartbeats, distracted by admiring the fairness he's speaking of. His hands run lightly down Horatio's arms; skim fondly against his abdomen and begin to drift lower. His kisses move slowly from throat to the crook of his neck and start a slow journey down Horatio's chest.

"Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade," A line largely muffle against Horatio's skin, "When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st."

Nor, he senses, is that the only thing growing. His fingers shift to brush a little teasingly as he, clearly determined on a rather complete downward motion, glances up at Horatio with a hopefully obvious question in the quirk of his brow and a pleased little grin on his lips.

Edited (too gay for html) 2017-02-11 04:03 (UTC)

There's nothing quite as stunning and thrilling as being known. Archie knows him. The trace of fingers and lips ghosting over his skin, seeking instantly the soft wonderful places where his nerves frazzle, are familiar and overwhelming all at once. The soft puff of words murmured against his skin leaves a trail of heat prickling against his skin as his husband moves in a calm, deliberate fashion.

He can feel his heart hammering before Archie's hands have even properly moved. He can feel himself twitching into excitement even before Archie's head starts to dip its kisses lower along his chest.

In all honesty, he would give a limb to remember what came after 'so long as men can breathe.' Then again, he would probably have to give a limb to get his lips to form even those scant words coherently. All he can properly do is let his arms scramble dumbly, first to keep Archie close and then, overwhelmed, to find purchase against the nearest counter.

"A-Archie--"

Hopefully that's a good affirmative answer to the unasked question.

That's a very good affirmative. That's got his eyes sparkling happily as Archie presses a kiss against Horatio's stomach before his hands move to push Horatio's clothes down just a hair slower than is strictly necessary.

It's a little mean to tease, but he does anyways, his hands caressing lightly without any real touching. He's gotten to finish the sonnet, after all.

"So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see," he says sweetly, lips drifting to press a kiss against Horatio's thigh as he settles to his knees, "So long lives this, and-- gives life to thee."

Another kiss, this one closer to the objective, and a softly murmured, "Love you, 'ratio," before, with a happy hum, his mouth gets put to use for something other than talking.

It remains amazing, honestly, how defiant it feels to be intimate on a ship. There's something half-blurry at the edges about feeling the motion under his feet and the old tang in the air, perhaps; some piece of him that knows he's been standing straighter and half-expecting old ghosts to appear.

It adds a wonderful haze of happy delirium to stand against those memories. He's fallen in love all over again with kissing Archie at the helm, with shouting across the waves, with laughing and gasping carelessly through the night. Now, here, as dawn finishes creeping belowdeck to meet them, with the freedom to gasp audibly and let his voice choke contentedly around Archie's name.

It's an incredibly lovely way to start the day.

He waits until he can barely stand. He gasps over and over as his throat grows nearly hoarse with moaning. He lets himself nearly buckle under the attention being lavished on him.

He has to tap at his husband's shoulder before the end, barely trusting himself to let go of the counter. "--bed?"

The coffee can wait. He can wait. This is always so much better when it's together.

There's a warm sort of adoration in his eyes as he pulls back enough to look up at Horatio to confirm he's sure. He doesn't risk letting himself hum contentedly around his husband, instead shifting off with an obviously happy sigh, letting the rasp in his voice come out clearly as he replies, "'ll right."

Which means he'll be taking Horatio's hand and pressing a soft kiss against the inside of his wrist as they head back to bed.

The coffee really can wait.

The few seconds it takes for Archie to move away, to take his hand and stumble them toward the bed, is enough to let him think again. His breath is still coming hard and ragged as he moves stumblingly to follow, but at least he can formulate a thought by the time they tumble into bed.

He loves everything they do. He just can't help loving best when they can get properly tangled in one another like this.

It's just as thrilling. It sends exactly the same shocks up his spine. It's just that he can press his lips feverishly against Archie's neck as they move together; can actually find the wherewithal to whisper affectionately.

"Let us live, and-- ah, Archie, l-let us love-- and all the words of the old, and so moral, may they be worth less than nothing to us."

Catullus isn't quite so inspired as the Bard, perhaps. It's still an attempted offer in kind, much as the shifting and petting and moving of their bodies together is.

"Horatio."

The moan is already practically a shout. There's so much more he means to say. It's just that, for a few moments, he's utterly overwhelmed by the sensations of Horatio's touch and words in his ear.

"G-God, I l-love you."

There doesn't need to be more than that. There doesn't need to be anything but the breathless happy noises, the gasped sentiments, the wonderful tremble passing between them like an electric shock.

"Give me-- a thousand kisses." He's skipped a few lines. He can't begin to spare a proper thought for it as he fumbles briefly onto his elbows to press the words directly against Archie's lips. "A-- a hundred more, another thousand, and another hundred."

He loves this man. It strikes him, innocent as anything, even in moments of abject debauchery.

He can't help the pleased gasps that escape his lips with each movement and mumbled word. He can't help the way he kisses Horatio back with a desperate sort of need in answer to the recited lines.

He thinks he starts laughing brightly somewhere between one contented moan and another. He can't help but feel entirely overwhelmed with the joy and love he feels for his husband, in this moment as well as any other.

He can't last long. He'd been far too riled up before they had even hit the bed. It's the laughter that pushes him over the edge, gasping for air and gulping out a few soft laughs of his own.

His entire body feels exhausted and contented all over again, but that doesn't stop him from continuing to touch coaxingly. There's a hazy thickness to his voice as his lips drop lazily along Archie's jaw line, nipping faint punctuation.

"And, when we’ve... counted up the many thousands, confuse them-- so as not to know them all, so that no enemy may cast an evil eye, by knowing that... there were so many kisses."

It isn't really so much longer til Archie follows suit, really. The general headiness of the moment, as well as the specific excitement to be found in both satisfying Horatio and having his husband quote poetry at him, is far too overwhelming in its own right. Combined with the kisses and touches, and it's simply impossible for Archie not to let go with an entirely ecstatic cry.

It's just as impossible, after, for him not to return Horatio's kisses with sloppy, slow, and entirely sweet ones of his own, a breathless "'ratio" occasionally falling from his lips.

"I love you."

He always means it. He trusts infinitely that Horatio knows he always means it. There's still something lovely about murmuring it when they're tangled and exhausted like this--with underlining physical intimacy with the thing that matters much, much more.

"I love you completely, Archie Kennedy."

"I know."

It's impossible not to sound so sleepily contented as he kisses Horatio back.

"I love you-- just as much, too, Horatio Hornblower. My--" A soft, pleased laugh, "My husband."

He wouldn't mind if saying the words never fails to make him this happy.

They've been devoted for years. They've been on this path for years. It still feels stunningly delightful to have Archie call him 'husband.'

"Let me get you some coffee, hm?"

"Mmm."

He has to steal one last kiss from his husband, fingers brushing lovingly through Horatio's hair, before he more properly lets him go.

"'ll right."

It really is beyond a blessing. It really is almost beyond comprehension.

Horatio isn't at all sure how he managed to be here, pulling himself out of bed from a lazy morning with his husband to grab them each a cup of fresh coffee before they head out to the waves.

It might be heaven.

If it fits, it ships.

eeeee <3

:D <333

my sons <3

i love them <3 also this is. the gayest thing i have ever written in my life.

ship ship gets real gay. it's just facts. that was impressive, though. <3

tru dat. but also tankoo :3

glitter.gif all the way down amirite

u right B)

boys plz <333

They silly and in love <3

and GIANT NERDS, tho

SO MUCH???

they're perf ;w;

i love them ;;

i love them when they aren't in their own way most tho ; ;

it tru ; ;

<333 ;;

<3333!

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