Archie and Horatio cuddled in a single hammock, oblivious to the furtive grapplings in
the dark around them. Just as those individuals, gentleman all, had made pretense of
ignoring the bucking motions and
sounds of passion emanating some moments before from the sleeping space of the handsome
young middies.
Archie ran heated fingers up and down his lover's arm. "Aw c'mon Horrie, why won't
you do it? It would please me greatly."
Horatio pursed his eminently kissable lips, for no other reason than it was in his job
description as midshipman to do so. Besides, the puckering motion, he well knew, drove
Archie mad with longing and
desire. His bunkie may have been exhausted after their delirious hour of passion, but HH
still had more in him to go.
"I dunno, Arch. It's just not me."
"It's you, bud. Trust me."
"A tattoo?" Horatio buried his nose in the thick, sweaty strands of Archie's
hair. "Won't that kind of mark me, y'know, as yours? Like, your property?"
"Nah. But it'll make a statement." Archie reached over, ran his fingers down
around the dark hair of his Horatio's armpit. "You can hide it if you want. How about
right here?"
Horatio suppressed a giggle as the wiggling fingers touched a tender spot. "Arch,
you're fookin' balmy, y'know that?"
"Fookin' balmy for you, luv." Archie pinched an inch of white flesh between his
thumb and forefinger. "H and A, right there. Next shore leave, agreed?"