Fic: The Art of Tongue Rolling
A bit of fluff inspired by conversations on Horatio and Archie, genetics and tongue rolling. I wrote and posted this months ago somewhere else, just want to put it up here for archive purpose.

The Art of Tongue Rolling
Pairing: A/H
Rating: A hard PG-13?

* * *

"Horatio?"

"Mm?"

"Can you roll your tongue?"

They had been sitting shoulder to shoulder in Archie's bunk, talking
about nothing in particular until they had fallen into a companionable
silence in the darkness, when the question came. Horatio was startled
out of his reverie.

"What?"

"Roll your tongue. Like this." Archie rolled his tongue into a neat U
shape.

"I don't know - never tried doing it."

"Try, Horatio."

Hornblower almost refused to do something so silly, but he thought
better of it when he saw the challenging gleam in Archie's eye; no one
was in the prison cell save himself and his dearest friend – his long
lost friend, his new found lover, for whom he would do anything - and
they had nothing better to do anyway.

He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, trying to shape it into
a tube, his dark eyes almost crossing as he concentrated on his task.
Archie watched, enthralled, as that bit of pink, sensitive flesh
wriggled awkwardly, looking soft and helpless and unbearably tempting.

Horatio pouted when he saw Archie's eyes widening and his mouth
dropping open just a bit.

"Archie, I don't think I can do it…" He complained.

Kennedy licked his lips and let his mouth widen with a slow, prurient
smile.

"I can teach you, Horatio."

Before Hornblower could reply, Archie had his friend in his arms and
his wide, beautiful mouth covered with his own smaller one. Horatio's
lips opened thoughtlessly the moment he felt Archie's tongue nudging
them, and their tongues entwined with careless grace in a wet,
slippery kiss, sweet and heady with young love.

Their lips parted only because of the need to breathe. They stared at
one another stupidly, their arms still around each other's body. They
were both aroused by the impromptu kissing, and Horatio could only
gawp as Archie licked his wet, shiny lips again deliberately, a silent
invitation.

Without a word, Horatio crushed Archie's sweet lips against his, their
tongues dancing an inelegant, perfect dance together. Soon they were
both lying in the narrow bed, bare skin against bare skin as they
somehow got rid of their night shirts and writhed against each other,
gasping and gently moaning into another man's mouth, reaffirming their
love for each other.

Whenn they could finally bear to tear themselves from the other man's
lips, they lay sticky and spent against each other in the sultry
Spanish night. Archie snuggled against Horatio's chest, as he was
prone to do after lovemaking, as if he couldn't get close enough, as
if he was afraid that the man beside him would disappear if he didn't
cling tight enough. Horatio tightened his arms around him
protectively, endeavouring to chase away the dark loneliness that he
knew still lurked behind Archie's cheerful façade, leaving a kiss on
his golden head as he did so. He thought his lover had fallen asleep
when he heard him speak. Archie's voice was sleepy, a bit slurred, as
if he were drunk.

"Do you think you can roll your tongue now?"

Horatio tried again, and frowned.

"I still can't do it." He was a bit disappointed, absurd though it was.

"Well, I think you only need some more practice before you can do it
properly. Like I can." Archie pulled Horatio against him once more and
demonstrated his tongue rolling skills. In Horatio's mouth.

"Mmm mmm…"

"I'm sure you'll prove a quick learner, Horatio. And even if you can't
learn to do it, I love your mouth and your tongue well enough as it is."

He shouldn't be blushing, not after what they'd just done, but blush
he did. "I'm glad to hear that, Archie."

"So, more practice tomorrow?"

"Mm. I'd like that."

One more gentle, kittenish kiss, and Horatio held Archie in his arms
until he felt his breath slow to an even pace. Then he gently
extricated himself, cleaning them both and returned to his own bunk.
He slept, content with the promise of further practising the art of
tongue rolling with his Archie in the long days and nights in El Ferrol.

* * *

End