"So, what do you think, Horatio?" Archie tugged off his jacket, his waistcoat and shirt soaked through with sweat. "Your victory today, or mine?"

"Mine, I think, Mr. Kennedy." Horatio copied Archie's movements, shedding his own jacket and following it with his waistcoat. The scent of powder and the fine dust of it filtered through the air as he dropped his jacket across the back of a chair. "Your second man was not on his game."

"Given that Sawyer had him flogged two days ago, I may make allowances, but you're quite right. Victory is yours." He discarded his waistcoat and unknotted his stock, unwinding the black cloth slowly. "What ship did you claim today?"

"Two ships," Horatio assured him with a self-mocking grin and a soft laugh.

"Nothing by half measures, eh, Mr. Hornblower?" Dropping his stock atop his waistcoat, Archie pulled his damp shirt over his head. "Ships of the line, no doubt."

"No doubt indeed." Horatio's hands stilled, his body motionless as he watched Archie shed his clothes, wiping the clinging sweat from the fine mat of brown-gold hair on his chest with his shirt, the promise of wash day the next day making it no sacrifice. Horatio swallowed and forced his eyes away. "The new lieutenant is to join us tomorrow."

"I've heard." Archie looked up, his blue eyes bright with laughter, dark with something deeper. "This is our last moment like this, hm? You and I without another crowded into the wardroom with us?"

"I suppose you're right." Horatio tugged off his shirt, too aware of his pale skin, his thin frame.

"Hm." Archie leaned against the wall, the heated wood whispering against his bare skin as he watched Horatio put aside his shirt. "Come here."

Bells tolled on the quarterdeck and Horatio swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly. "We mustn't."

"The Captain is gone, Horatio. Buckland has the watch. Tomorrow, as you say, the new Lieutenant will be here with us. This is out last chance. When will we have another?"

"There will be shore leave and…" He cut himself off and shook his head. "I cannot, Archie."

"No. Duty and honor prevent you."

"The Articles prevent me, Archie."

"Words." Archie shook his head and refused to meet Horatio's eyes. "Words on paper. You could just as soon obey Shakespeare's Hamlet or Ovid or Aristophanes."

"The King, Archie." Horatio reached out and caught Archie's chin, forcing Archie's eyes back to him. "The yardarm?"

"Very well." Archie jerked his chin free of Horatio's fingers and moved away. "You've made your point."

"Archie…" Horatio's voice took on a hard plea. "It's not…"

"It doesn't matter what it's not, Horatio. Merely that it is not." He cut off a bitter laugh as he gathered his things, holding the rumpled pile of cloth to his chest as he approached Horatio. "Excuse me, Lieutenant."

"Archie." Horatio grabbed his arms, his hands tight against Archie's sweat-cooled skin. Thumbs sweeping across the lay of muscles, he felt Archie tense and exhaled, the tenuous grasp of his control leaving him as easily as his breath. His fingers tightened. "Stay."

Archie's countenance remained immobile, no emotion in his normally expressive face. "Why?"

"Because…" Horatio shut his eyes tightly and exhaled as he stepped forward, closing the gap between them. "Because who knows when we will have another." He opened his hands and let his palms stroke along Archie's bare arms as he guided him backwards, the short distance to the wall covered in a few steps. "Stay."

Archie released the clutch of fabric he held and moved his hands to Horatio's waist, pulling it flush against his. "For what?"

Horatio fought against the warring emotions of fear and elation, the real chance of being caught weighed against the thrill of risking it. He let his hands run down Archie's broad chest to the first button of his breeches. "For me."

Shuddering, Archie closed his eyes and pressed back against the wood, his hips rolling forward against Horatio's hands. "Horatio." The word forced a sudden flurry of movement, Horatio's hand and Archie's, unbuttoning and pushing away thick fabric and thin, urging hard flesh free to slide together with slick heat.

Horatio's hands settled on the wood on either side of Archie's head, his hard, rapid thrusts grinding their hips, their cocks together. Archie's fingers dug into Horatio's flesh hard enough to bruise, sliding back to curve along the slope of Horatio's buttocks, pull him closer.

Horatio gasped hotly against Archie's neck, his hips still sliding and stroking as he came, as he buried his face in the damp tendrils slipped loose from Archie's queue. Archie shuddered again, liquid heat staining them both. Horatio let his head rest on Archie's shoulder for a moment then pulled back, seeking out Archie's eyes.

The bell rang in the distance and Archie gave him a wry grin. "I had best make myself presentable if I'm to relieve that watch." He released his hold on Horatio and stepped aside. "Do you think it will?"

Horatio turned his head, his eyes expression puzzled. "Will what?"

"Be our last time?"

Smiling slightly, Horatio shook his head, reaching out and touching Archie's cheek softly. "Fate has been kind to us so far, Archie. Let's not tempt her now."