All Things.

[quigonejinn]

"They commissioned at the Nore, blast 'em."



It happened when Bush was a lieutenant on the Hotspur and Hornblower was only a commander: they were at the Nore for a week in the dead of winter, and there was no time to send for Maria. Nor would it have been provident to bring little Horatio through the winter cold and snow. Consequently, there was a night when Hornblower was ashore with Bush to enjoy the pleasures of the town -- he was a new father, and the burdens of both command and family weighed on him. He was dead sober. Bush was more sober than he would later be; he had been eager to be among the women.

The room was small. Bush, in an attempt at levity, had asked his commander to calculate how many hammocks might be slung in its space, and while Hornblower had not found a number, it was certainly small. A table took more space than the bed; Hornblower suspected that more coupling had taken place on top of it than in the bed itself. Snow mixed with rain whipped at the outside of the house, but thanks to its size, its interior position, and the popularity of the establishment and the weather, the room was almost unbearably hot.

Bush stood with his hips braced against the table. He was turned to the wall, and Hornblower said -- quiet, in a low voice, for they could hear the sounds of two men working on one woman through the wall. Hornblower was not sure what was happening at the other wall.

"Your coat, Mr. Bush."

The coat went on the table. Bush stood against the table in his shirt and trousers.

"Your shirt, Mr. Bush."

The shirt went on the table, and Hornblower reached to the base of Bush's throat and began to work at the knots. Bush raised his hands to help Hornblower with the knot, and then, after a moment where the broad, black cloth was lying against his fingers and they were both looking at it, Hornblower drew the neckcloth over Bush's eyes, made a passable square knot that he tightened, then got down onto his knees. The floor was filthy -- no competent lieutenant would ever have allowed a deck to fall into this state.

"If you would come about, Mr. Bush," Hornblower said.

Bush did not move for a moment. He required the time to overcome his disbelief at hearing Hornblower's voice from that vicinity, but he did come about, slowly, with a little guidance from the hand Hornblower had at his hip. He had been hard previously, during the kissing, but had slackened while undressing under command. Confusion and uncertainty at the blindfold had softened him some more, but by the time he had finished coming about, he had abruptly returned to his previous state.

"Sir -- " he managed while Hornblower unbuttoned the braces and set them to the side.

"Sir -- " he managed again when Hornblower put his mouth on Bush.

At first, it was just the tip, the bit above the waist of the trousers, and then, as Hornblower mastered his hesitation and the trembling in his belly, he let Bush's trousers slide down. Gradually, he began to take more into his mouth, and when Hornblower had convinced himself that he was being a coward, that he had been too weak to refrain from beginning this, and now, was being too weak to commit himself fully to the act -- then, he began to move his mouth up and down, more rapidly, in the pattern that he had learned in his youth. He applied his tongue; when the taste in his mouth changed and the texture grew slippery, his hips jerked forward, and he had to stifle a moan.

It grew undignified. Hornblower's lips had already been bruised by kissing, and it was a struggle to keep them entirely wrapped over his teeth. Bush would thrust, and Hornblower would move in the wrong direction. Hornblower drew his head back to lick the tip of Bush's cock -- Bush had gasped "Sir" before. Now, he could not keep back a growl. He had been holding Hornblower gently by the cheek before, and now, he put both hands in Hornblower's hair to hold his head still. Hornblower's hair was wound over and under Bush's fingers, and Bush began to put himself down, into Hornblower's throat.

Hornblower had little choice in whether or not to swallow.

After Bush spent himself, too, there were a few moments where his hips still moved and he still thrust. They died away eventually, like the swaying of a pendulum, and then Hornblower put Bush on the table. There was a candle there, in a stand. For safety, Hornblower put it on the floor, out of the way, and then he began to put his fingers in Bush -- he began with the intent of making Bush loose enough for fucking, but he continued long after Bush was ready. Bush still had the blindfold across his eyes, and since he could not see anyone's face, he apparently gave no thought to what expressions moved across his.

There was surprise at the first knuckle of the first finger, pain mixed at the stretching occaisioned by the second finger. An effort to endure the sensation at the second knuckle of each, then surprise, again, when it began to feel pleasurable. That grew, shifted into arching with his mouth open, turned into a shout when Hornblower found a particular spot inside him. The candle lit Bush from underneath and to the side casting shadows over surprising parts of his face and lighting others; parts of Bush's collarbones were lit, and a few of his ribs, too. Hornblower could see the scars from the Spaniard rebellion on the Renown, and Bushs's legs were bare to the stockings.

Hornblower had begun with the intention of loosening Bush, but he continued past that point. He did not put himself inside Bush until Bush had come a second time, and it was strange. He had put the blindfold on Bush out of impulse. He had not want Bush to look at him during it; he did not want to reminded of this when he was on the quarterdeck, when Bush looked to him for orders. He had also been curious to see whether Bush would let him.

It was strange, Hornblower thought, watching Bush dress and work the blindfold off himself. It was dark in the room; outside, he was quite sure that the Nore was blowing into a storm.

It was strange. Bush had worn the blindfold with a square knot in the back. He tied his neckcloth in the front with a square knot, too, and Hornblower could not shake the feeling that he had been seen by his dear friend and first lieutenant regardless.
...

The Nore was a sandbank at the mouth of the Thames. On clear days, it was possible to see Sheerness, and Hornblower saw it on many occaisions, including after he had become a Lord and was sailing back to France.




Basic idea from black_hound, and all the good things details from a roleplaying scene with la_reine_bleu. I've been reading O'Brian recently; can you tell by how convoluted the paragraphs are getting?

Comments

[phantomsangel.livejournal.com]

I don't care what you say. I love this like Bush likes being fucked on a table with his stockings still on.

This is hot and kinky and perfect. I can totally see crazy baby boyfriend doing the blindfold thing, too.

<33

[ex-kalymura481.livejournal.com]

HH, when moving that candle? *g* He totally had the same thought.
also, "he apparently gave no thought to what expressions moved across his" -- Ostrich Bush, let me count the ways.

Thank you so much for sharing them with us.

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

Aha! I'm not sure what the thought that HH had was (it's morning and ;lkdjg;ldkjf my brain ain't working), but I'm glad you liked this. Hurray! Porn. :D

[http://users.livejournal.com/_oggy_/]

how did i miss this when you first posted it? stupid me.
very nice pwp, tres hot. :-)

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

You missed it becuase I kept it on private for a couple days. XD I'm still faintly embarrassed by how retarded and self-indulgent this is, and. *writhes in shame, but is glad that you liked this*

[randomalia.livejournal.com]

For me, this isn't so much hot as stunning. In the real sense of the word, because I'm left feeling slightly dazed by it, and I think that's because of the writing. The way you've kept this sort of distance from the actual sex, the imagery of putting the candle down, the matter-of-fact way Hornblower thinks about it all. It's really...sophisticated?

The Nore was a sandbank at the mouth of the Thames. On clear days, it was possible to see Sheerness, and Hornblower saw it on many occaisions, including after he had become a Lord and was sailing back to France.

I love it when you gives us those endings that don't seem to tell you anything about what the character is feeling, but in fact say everything.

[skalja.livejournal.com]

In short, randomalia beat me to everything. Goshdarnit.

Also, I love how Horatio thinks of himself as cowardly for not committing himself all the way - he can't give himself a break, even doing this sort of thing.

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

I'm glad that bit worked for you. I was casting aorund in my head desperately for something that would take the focus off the physical acts, and it was like, hey! What does every Hornblower-POV writer always have resort to? The fact that Horatio is crazy like a bitch!

That icon is so sweet. *_* Poor boy.

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

Ahaha. Oh, randomalia, you are too kind. :x

I'm glad that the voice worked for you because it was one of the things that bugged me the most about this -- I was worrying about the sex being too much of a "THIS IS WHAT RHOD LIKES ^_^," so I tried to de-emphasize it. And in the end, I just ended up worrying more about it being incomprehensible and too distancing and AUUUUUGH AUUUUUUUUUGH AUUUUUUUUUUUUGH ARRRRGH

*takes break from her terrible writerly angst to omg, love on you and put tofu flowers on your doorstep*

[iansmomesq.livejournal.com]

OMG how did I miss this??? Why didn't you... why... didn't you TELL ME about it?

I'm dead from this. Dead. Blindfolds... kink. omg.

... and you had to work Sheerness into it, didn't you?

*loves this and you like woah*

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

*cracks up* Becuase I was completely and burningly ashamed of it? And I still wince whenever I read this, see all the pacing issues, and think about how I basically wrote this fic because I like kink and because I like HH/WB.

The fic actualy gelled (insofar as it ever gelled) because of the Sheerness reference. I was trying ot figure out where the Nore was, and Wiki tells me that it's close to Sheerness, and well.

I gotta get creative when trying to figure out new ways to reference Caudebec. XD

[lobelia321.livejournal.com]

Recced by eyebrowofdoom.

I am quite speechless here. I do not know this fandom at all, nor the canon, so I started reading with some distance in my head but was drawn in so quickly that I was surprised. There is phenomenal command of prose here, and of pace, and of dialogue. I loved the repetitions, and the details, and the very, very sexiness of it.

Two typos: 'occaisioned' appears twice; and 'he had not want Bush'.

Brilliant. Thank you.