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sissyTitle: That Time of the Artificial Month
Fandom: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Characters: Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent
Prompt: 063. Summer
Word Count: 416
Rating: PG
Summary: Ford and Arthur enjoy the nice weather.
Table
Summer in the Heart of Gold is exactly like every other time of year on the ship--metal, mechanic, and very white. Technically, there aren’t really seasons, but come a certain time each month Arthur likes to go to the greenroom and crank up the warm, artificial lighting. This is Arthur's summer.
Ford crouched, elbows on his knees, next to the lounging form of his human. Arthur was stretched out on a clean towel, arms tucked loosely behind his head and a pair of glasses that looked suspiciously like something Zaphod would wear covering his eyes. He was still wearing his ratty dressing gown, of course, but the legs of his pajamas were rolled up past his knees and the shirt he was wearing had ridden well up his midriff.
Ford smiled a slow, toothy smile. The view was nice. "Arthur." he finally said, when it was apparent that the human wasn't going to jump up because of his presence. "This is boring."
"Says you." the human muttered.
"Yes, that's right. I said it." Ford agreed. "Listen Arthur, wouldn't you rather be out doing...stuff?"
"Stuff?" the human repeated, in a tone that let Ford know he didn't really care. "What sort of stuff?"
"Oh, you know." Ford spent a few more minutes staring at exposed flesh. "We could go to a bar."
"No." Arthur said, not even taking time to contemplate it. "I'd really rather not."
"We could..." Ford tried to think of something besides a bar. He thought hard. “We could hang out on the deck and make fun of Zaphod."
"Hm. " Arthur yawned. "Tempting. But I'm rather comfortable right here."
"Arthur." he sighed. He ran a hand through his ginger hair.
Arthur was pretty much ignoring him. It was infuriating...and a total turn on. Ford could feel his lips stretching into a smile, his eyes glued to the warm body spread out beneath him like a gift from Zarquon.
"Well..."he began slyly, "we could always ...you know..." He let his fingers creep away from him, brushing the tanned skin.
Arthur's nose crinkled. His glasses slid down a bit. "What?"
"You know." Ford urged, flattening his palm on Arthur's stomach. His eyes darkened.
"Wh-Oh." Arthur's eyes snapped open. "Oh." A blush crept across his face and the Betelgeusian felt the skin under his hand heat up.
"Well..." he prompted, eager.
"I...er.." Arthur coughed. "I suppose...we could..."
"Great!" Ford grinned, teeth flashing wickedly in the bright light. And wasn't it just the perfect weather for an afternoon romp?
Fandom: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Characters: Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent
Prompt: 063. Summer
Word Count: 416
Rating: PG
Summary: Ford and Arthur enjoy the nice weather.
Table
Summer in the Heart of Gold is exactly like every other time of year on the ship--metal, mechanic, and very white. Technically, there aren’t really seasons, but come a certain time each month Arthur likes to go to the greenroom and crank up the warm, artificial lighting. This is Arthur's summer.
Ford crouched, elbows on his knees, next to the lounging form of his human. Arthur was stretched out on a clean towel, arms tucked loosely behind his head and a pair of glasses that looked suspiciously like something Zaphod would wear covering his eyes. He was still wearing his ratty dressing gown, of course, but the legs of his pajamas were rolled up past his knees and the shirt he was wearing had ridden well up his midriff.
Ford smiled a slow, toothy smile. The view was nice. "Arthur." he finally said, when it was apparent that the human wasn't going to jump up because of his presence. "This is boring."
"Says you." the human muttered.
"Yes, that's right. I said it." Ford agreed. "Listen Arthur, wouldn't you rather be out doing...stuff?"
"Stuff?" the human repeated, in a tone that let Ford know he didn't really care. "What sort of stuff?"
"Oh, you know." Ford spent a few more minutes staring at exposed flesh. "We could go to a bar."
"No." Arthur said, not even taking time to contemplate it. "I'd really rather not."
"We could..." Ford tried to think of something besides a bar. He thought hard. “We could hang out on the deck and make fun of Zaphod."
"Hm. " Arthur yawned. "Tempting. But I'm rather comfortable right here."
"Arthur." he sighed. He ran a hand through his ginger hair.
Arthur was pretty much ignoring him. It was infuriating...and a total turn on. Ford could feel his lips stretching into a smile, his eyes glued to the warm body spread out beneath him like a gift from Zarquon.
"Well..."he began slyly, "we could always ...you know..." He let his fingers creep away from him, brushing the tanned skin.
Arthur's nose crinkled. His glasses slid down a bit. "What?"
"You know." Ford urged, flattening his palm on Arthur's stomach. His eyes darkened.
"Wh-Oh." Arthur's eyes snapped open. "Oh." A blush crept across his face and the Betelgeusian felt the skin under his hand heat up.
"Well..." he prompted, eager.
"I...er.." Arthur coughed. "I suppose...we could..."
"Great!" Ford grinned, teeth flashing wickedly in the bright light. And wasn't it just the perfect weather for an afternoon romp?