Hornblower: Holding Out (M, Horatio, from being chilled)

[Mercury]

A/N: I don't know what it is about Hornblower fics, but I feel they should all be long and immensely detailed. As such, this feels woefully undersized. It's set during Mutiny, and prior knowledge is probably necessary, sorry.

Enjoy

Holding Out

Horatio didn't mind being naked in front of the other men. Midshipmen were left with no other option when they wanted to get changed, and though he was now a Third Lieutenant and had the simple privacy of the ward room’s partitions, he could still remember how to not feel self-conscious.

There was, however, no way to not be embarrassed when loosing ones stomach over the side.

After running drills, from the heat of the guns and smoke, not having recovered from his continuous watch and a sore throat from yelling during the drills, Horatio had felt as if he couldn’t breathe. The sweat and smell of smoke clung to him and he had felt his head swim as he’d emerged from below and up onto the deck, where he’d deeply inhaled the salted air.

“Are you unwell, Mister Hornblower?” Buckland had asked him.

And he had denied it, because he wasn’t unwell as much as overwhelmed.

Horatio had felt as if he needed to be revived, and perhaps cleansed from not only the heat and stress of the gun drill, but also the suffocating tyranny of Captain Sawyer.

He hadn’t cared about appearing naked in front of the men, but as soon as he had he’d requested the hosing down, their amusement became apparent and to Horatio to it seemed as if he wasn’t the only one needing to break free and feel something other than the heat and fear.

So he had stayed under the pump perhaps longer than he should have, long after the sensation had moved beyond a refreshing relief to a sharp chill. It was for the betterment of morale, and he knew that he would have the opportunity to warm up fair quickly, wrapped in his uniform and then allowed a welcome night’s sleep under Lieutenant Buckland, who had slyly promised his a short reprieve.

It had been a stroke of god-awful luck that the captain chose that moment to recover and wander onto deck.

“Horatio?”

“Hmmm? Oh.” He felt his body flush, and the shackles around his ankles softly clattered as he reached over and accepted the jacket Archie held in offering. “Thank you.”

He wrapped it around his shoulders. The material wasn’t soft but it was warm and as Horatio sniffled a little around his slightly dripping nose he noticed that the clothing smelt like his friend.

Archie was sitting next to him, the two in companionable silence. Bush was seated a little further away from the two against the next wall of the hold, where he could observe the both of them with lidded eyes and his hat shadowing his face too much for Horatio to see anything.

“Hih’Gischhh!” He half managed to smother the expulsion into his fist. It left a wet misting across his knuckles and he was careful to wipe it off on the side of his bare thigh, furthest away from Bush in the hopes that it would go unnoticed.

“God bless.”

“Thank you, Archie.”

“I hope you’re not coming down with a cold, Mister Hornblower.” Bush commented.

Horatio looked over at the other man and shook his head slightly. He couldn’t tell whether it had been an expression of concern or a warning, but he gave a slight sniff and quick answer regardless. “Rest assured, Mister Bush, I am in perfect health; merely chilled.”

Bush nodded, allowing the shadow to fall further over his face for a moment. Horatio noticed that Archie sent Bush a small nod, seeming to confirm something to the other man and he relaxed back against the wall, mind seemingly put at ease. It was an odd little exchange and the shivering, mostly-naked man got the impression that his friend was reassuring Bush that he was alright and wouldn’t be a burden or detrimental to their voyage.

Like Captain Sawyer was.

Looking down, Horatio scrubbed at his nose. He knew it would stop running once he warmed up, as the unfortunately noticeable response to being cold had always plagued him, but Bush did not. It would be easy for him to think that Horatio was under the weather, and perhaps too weak to be of help should help be needed, even with Archie on Horatio’s side.

He felt another tickle down the back of his sinuses and he tried to will it away.

Horatio wasn’t sure about Bush. He had been convinced that the Second Lieutenant was loyal to Sawyer, and would have undoubtedly been the one to tie the noose should anyone hear whispers of a mutiny. Yet, Bush had made his thoughts on the matter clear and it was obvious that he had allied himself with his fellow lieutenants against the captain’s mindset.

Still, Horatio didn’t know Bush very well and as long as the other man was playing his cards close to the chest he wasn’t going to show his to the other man either.

“Heh’Gttcchh!”

“God bless.”

“Thank you.”

He curled up on himself further and tried to make Archie’s coat cover as much of his bare flesh as possible, hoping that his shivers won’t dislodge it too much.

Archie smiled and nudged Horatio with his shoulder. “You should get some sleep.” He suggested, his voice friendly and caring, “Perhaps in a few hours, once the captain’s calmed down, we can get something to warm you up.”

He nodded. It was true that he still felt tired and desired to sleep, and he was glad to have some sort of encouragement to do so from his friend. Horatio felt reassured that it would not reflect badly on him if he chose to sleep while the other two men endured their captivity. He only hoped that the bone-deep cold and his perpetually running, sporadically disruptive nose would allow him some time of rest. At least without any illness behind it the expulsions were misty, hardly carrying the weight they would have otherwise.

“Uhhiiisshhh!”

“God bless you, Mister Hornblower.”

Horatio turned back the side where he’d directed the sudden sneeze and looked back over to the other man, trying not to feel too sheepish at something that was far from the most embarrassing bodily function one could display on a ship.

“Thank you, Mister Bush.”

...

It hadn’t taken Horatio long to fall asleep, the cold had started making his drowsy, and the short nod he’d had on deck hadn’t really been sufficient enough to keep him from drifting off. Bush and Archie had stared out into the dim light, remaining silent as to not prevent him from getting the sleep he needed.

He was woken by shaking; his own, chills raking through his body, and from the slightly rough hand that gripped his shoulder, trying to rouse him.

Horatio opened his eyes and felt the rest of his body try to move, but it was stiff and unresponsive. “B-B-Bush?”

“It’s alright.” His voice was low and calm, “Archie is talking with Mister Mathews about getting you a blanket until the captain will concede you your clothes. I thought it best you remain conscious until you warm up.”

The man sat the droopy lieutenant up against a wall, and ran a hand up and down Horatio’s arm as he tried to instil some life into the heavy limbs.

With some effort, Horatio pulled his knees to his chest and lifted his head off his chest. “I g-g-guess th-that having a wash on d-deck w-w-wasn’t...”

“You had no way of knowing the captain would recover before you would, in the least, be permitted to get dressed.” He hesitated and removed his hand from Horatio’s arm, becoming overtly aware of the touch. The two of them had not spoken often and he seemed to decide it was a comfort better shared between friends. “Hopefully we can get you warmed up before the surgeon’s attention becomes necessary; I doubt laudanum would do you any good.”

Horatio nodded, not wanting to attempt to talk again as he tried to clench his teeth tight and keep them from chattering.

Unfortunately, no amount of physical effort could stop his breath hitching, and he cupped two trembling hands over his mouth and nose.

“Eshishhhhh! Hisushhhh!”

“God bless you”

Horatio nodded his thanks and Bush briefly rested his hand once again on the shivering man’s arm, this time in a deliberate, yet brief, show of camaraderie. It was surprising, but greatly appreciated.

“Mathews is fetching a blanket.” Archie climbed down from where he had been talking up through the bars, “We can always say it was here when we were brought in.” He moved to slide down the wall, sitting next to Horatio, “How are you feeling?”

“C-c-cold.”

“I figured as much. I’ve talked to Buckland, and he’s agreed to ask the captain for a uniform as soon as it looks as if he’d agree.”

He gave a smile, which Horatio weakly returned.

His nose was cold and running, so he rubbed the side of his fist against the tip in the hope that if he warmed up just that part then it would behave. It wasn’t congested, as it would have been if he was coming down with a cold, but it was sensitive and every inhalation he took stung the back of his sinuses with the cool air, making his nose twitch. He had conceded to breathing through his mouth, but it was shallowed and irregular.

“Lieutenants,” came Styles’ voice from above. “Here.”

The corner of a blanket was poked through the holes in the grate and Bush sprung up to help feed it through faster before they were caught by Hobbs. Or worse.

“I tried to explain that this is just how you get when you’re chilled,” Archie said, his voice low so it wouldn’t carry, “but he’s still convinced you’re coming down ill.” He leant against Horatio and dropped his voice a touch more, “I admit, I’m starting to get a little concerned as well; I’ve never seen you react so... violently.”

“I’m-m fine.” Horatio managed to control the volume of his voice, despite the tremor. “Perhaps the f-fatigue has worsened the chill, but I’m f-f-fine.”

Archie watched him for a moment before giving a small smile. “I know, Horatio, and I trust your judgement.” He glanced over to where Bush was starting to finish up with Styles. “I also believe, when the moment matters, Bush will trust it too.”

Archie seemed to be putting to rest the very concern Horatio had never verbalized, and he gave a reflexive inhale to deny that he was ever worried about Bush’s perception of him, but the motion made his nose convulse before he could get any words out.

“Ashhhushhh! Hushhhh!”

“God bless.”

“Perhaps,” Bush stated as he brought the blanket over, “we should have also requested a handkerchief.”

“Perhaps.” The naked man agreed as he accepted the blanket. He tried clumsily to wrap the blanket around himself, but with fingers that were stinging from the cold it kept clumsily slipping from his grip. He only managed to wrap it around himself because Bush settled himself on Horatio’s other side and reached around to help him pull the blanket over his shoulders and tuck it around his body.

The Second Lieutenant gave a small smile, the first Horatio had seen from him that was more sincere than it was reserved.

“Thank you, Mister Bush.”

Archie nudged him slightly, clearly having seen the smile and wanted to remind him of what he had just been saying.

It didn’t pass Horatio’s notice that, once he was free and warm, he would have to do his best to make it up to the two men, even though they wouldn’t necessary have any idea that he was doing so, nor why he felt the need.

He had misjudged Bush, that much was obvious to him, but he had done with same with Sawyer and thus, Archie.

When they had first come aboard, Horatio had clung to his duty and respected the captain. Archie had seen something in Sawyer that Horatio had refused to believe, even if he had seen it too, and he had chided the other man for assuming the worst of the captain.

It had become clear that Archie had come into his own space, still mischievous but more confident and comfortable with himself in a way Horatio never thought he could be. The blond man didn’t seem to fear retribution, as his concern for Wellard, the men and the voyage took president. Seeing him with Wellard was the first time Horatio had looked at his friend and seen that his days of being in a Spanish prison, and being tormented at the hands of Simpson were past.

Horatio could see how those experiences had made Archie stronger, and it was very telling of what kind of captain Archie would become.

He knew he had to listen to Archie more, rather than trying to lead him. Their friendship would be stronger for it.

Although the shivering stopped, and his nose was beginning to recover, his breath still hitched, and he gave one last, soft expulsion into the fist of his hand.

“Hih’Gischhh!”

“God Bless.”

Edited March 28, 2014 by Mercury

[silentdreamer789]

Fantastic! Such a lovely little missing scene

[Wig_Powder]

Awww! Poor self-doubting Horatio! At least his friends are there for him.

This was fantastic, both from a fetishy and plot perspective. Horatio is adorable, but all the voices ring very true. You did a great job.

Thank you so much for filling this! It's always nice to see more Hornblower fic, and I really hope that you'll be able to do something with the other prompts I suggested, because I just want more from you!

[SterlingSilver]

Aweeeeee~!! Some Hornblower~! <3 Very, very cute little fic~ I love how polite everyone is to one another, ahaha~

And so cute, the men all fussing over him >w<~

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

Everything Wig_Powder said.

[Salamander]

“I hope you’re not coming down with a cold, Mister Hornblower.”

This is one of my favourite sentences in the English language (second only perhaps to "I hope you're not coming down with a cold, Archie")

Waaaaaaaaaaaah. I love this. I love everything about it. Horatio, Archie and Bush are all just delicious, and your spellings for Horatio suit really well. This made my evening.