Hitchhiker Fic, with Towels!
May. 5th, 2005 03:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darktrent182TITLE: Having His Way
DISCLAIMER: The characters don't belong to me, but to Douglas Adams. Not mine, never were. Sorry!
FANDOM: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
PAIRING: Ford Prefect/Arthur Dent (MovieVerse)
RATING: PG-13 perhaps?
WORD COUNT: 1,896
WARNING(S): non-DNA writing style, slight towel!bondage
NOTES: Inspired by the rash of towel kink by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gildedmuse and chichan's artwork. Heh. Also inspired by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
30_kisses, Kiss Scenario #21, violence; pillage/plunder; extortion -- though this probably doesn't count for any of those.
"You saved my life, Ford." Arthur said shakily as he wiped his sweaty forehead with a sleeve of his bathrobe. He was still shaking from having nearly been blown to bits by a random grenade, but Ford seemed to be nonchalant about the whole thing. If this was what hitchhiking across the galaxy was like on a daily basis, Arthur wasn't so sure whether he wanted to keep at it or not.
"It was nothing at all, Arthur, don't trouble yourself with apologizing," Ford said airily, waving his hand dismissively. "Though I am rather curious about something you said as we were crouched behind that pillar."
Arthur frowned. "What did I say?"
"That you'd let me have my way with you if we got out of it alive."
Arthur stopped short, his eyes widening. He *had* said that, hadn't he? Of course, he'd only said it as banter to stop from thinking of how many gruesome ways that the two of them could be blown to bits, but Ford was never known for recognizing sarcasm.
Now that he thought about it, Ford's reply of, "I'll hold you to that!" was less than comforting.
"I did say that, didn't I?" he asked out loud with a sinking feeling in his gut.
Ford nodded cheerfully, grinning wickedly. "Yes, you did, and like I said, I intend to hold you to it."
"Oh, dear."
"Oh, come on, Arthur!" Ford frowned. "It's not like I'm going to carve you into little pieces and put you into a stew." He turned and started heading in the direction of the ship.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Arthur muttered.
"What?" Ford looked over his shoulder at Arthur.
"Nothing," Arthur said quickly. "Let's head back to the ship."
Ford shrugged and started off.
Arthur had suspected since Ford's saving him from Earth being blown up that the alien had had… feelings for him. Ford had been polite enough to not actively try to jump on him and shove his tongue down Arthur's throat, but it was a bit disconcerting to find that his suspicions about how Ford felt about him were true after all.
Hopefully Ford wouldn't want him to do something too embarrassing.
***
Arthur found himself standing in front of Ford's quarters, and the butterflies in his stomach were fluttering like mad. Taking a deep, if not very fortifying, breath, he pressed the intercom button. "Ford?"
"Ah, Arthur!" came the cheerful, tinny reply. "Come on in!"
The doors opened, along with the nearly orgasmic sigh from Eddie, and Arthur was somewhat surprised to find Ford dressed as he usually was, sitting on the edge of his bed. When Arthur stepped into the room and the doors closed behind him, Ford stood up.
"There you are," he said, moving forward. "I was wondering where you were."
"Just getting something to drink."
Ford shot him a less than amused look. "One of these days, you're going to have to learn to trust me, you know."
"You were the one that told me after five years of being friends that you were actually an alien from somewhere near Betelgeuse, not me." Arthur pointed out.
Ford frowned. "That was necessary. Now, are you going to live up to your part of the bargain or not?"
"What if I said I didn't want to?" Arthur asked, trying not to sound desperate and failing miserably.
"Then I'd be terribly hurt, and you'd have a reputation for not being a man of your word. No one would ever trust you again. Do you really want that?"
Arthur sighed. "All right, fine. So, what did you want to do to me?"
Ford grinned, and Arthur found himself tempted to cover his neck. "First, lay down on the bed, hands over your head."
"What?"
"I'm sure you heard me, Arthur. I made sure to speak with simple words," Ford said in an aggravatingly calm voice. "Go lay down. I'll be right back."
With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Arthur laid down on the bed. Fluffing the pillow a few times before laying his head on it, he was surprised to find that Ford's pillow was much more comfortable than the one in his own quarters. He was going to have to steal it when Ford wasn't looking.
Still, that didn't change the fact that Ford… well, it was very likely that Ford was going to do *something* to him. It wouldn't be painful, but it could end up being more than a little embarrassing. Or maybe Arthur had been right, and Ford wanted to do… yes, well.
Arthur's thoughts were interrupted by the door opening again with its orgasmic sigh, and Ford returning with some dish towels, as well as his own towel thrown over one shoulder.
"Arms up, Arthur," Ford grinned cheerfully. "It'll be hard to tie your hands to the bedposts if you don't."
"Tie my… what?" Arthur asked.
"Tie your hands." Ford said reasonably, taking a hold of Arthur's right hand and tying it to the bedpost. "See, this will stop you from doing something silly like hitting me or trying to distract me. It's all very simple." He walked around the bed to the other side and did the same to Arthur's left wrist.
"You really *do* want to…" Arthur said with some surprise, unable to finish the statement when he realized that he had in fact been right all along. The concerned looks hadn't been nothing at all.
"Well, of course, I would." Ford replied, walking back around to Arthur's right side. "Why? You'd rather not?"
"Well, I have to admit that I hadn't thought of it before." Arthur admitted. "I mean, I sort of guessed that you might be… But I hadn't really thought about it myself."
Ford blinked. "Ahh. I see." He pulled out a length of black cloth. "Then it's a good thing I brought this, then. Here, lift your head and close your eyes."
Arthur frowned. "You aren't going to…"
Ford scowled at him. "Really, Arthur, don't you think you can trust me?"
"Well, yes, I can, but--"
"Then let me do this. Just this once and I'll never bother you with it again. All right?"
Arthur looked up at him for a long moment, and then closed his eyes. "All right."
Arthur felt the cloth wrapped around his eyes, the material soft against his cheeks. The hands at the back of his head made a secure knot, and then guided his head to lay back on the pillow.
"Too tight?"
Arthur shook his head. "No."
"You all right?" There was a note of concern in Ford's voice.
"Just a little nervous."
Fingers brushed down Arthur's right cheek. "That's perfectly normal."
"That's… that's good, I guess."
There was a long silence, and Arthur found himself wondering if Ford had stepped away from the bed until he felt hands, fingertips really, lightly stroke his face from forehead to chin, skirting his eyes.
"…Ford?"
A finger came to rest on his lips, pressing a little in a shushing motion.
"Shhh," Ford whispered along the skin of his cheek, rising to his ear. "Don't speak."
Arthur almost answered, but kept his mouth shut. A hand smoothed against his cheek and patted it gently.
The hands traveled his face a few times, the touches alternating between feather-sort and firm strokes. One hand slid into his hair, fingers weaving through in scritching and stroking motions. A finger stroked down either side of his jawline, brushing against the five o'clock shadow before settling on his neck. Fingers danced and traced around his Adam's apple, edged along the collar of his T-shirt, dipped mischievously underneath. Arthur breathed in through his nose slowly, breathed out in a shaky sigh.
Arthur felt the bed shift on his right side, and felt a leg press against the outside of his right thigh. The touches became lighter, fingers running themselves through his hair, the fingers at his throat sliding to the right, a thumb stroking along his jaw.
He swallowed a little, licking his lips unconsciously.
That's when he felt it. First, a light brush against his left cheekbone, then a nibble along his jawline. Arthur gasped at the sensation, his arms held in place by the two knotted dishtowels.
The hand in his hair slipped away, only to slide into his hair, a thumb brushing the underside of his left ear.
Arthur's lips parted --- he wanted to say something, tell Ford to just get on with it and kiss him already, something. But the hand around the right side of Arthur's neck slid back, and a thumb pressed against his lips.
"Shhh." The thumb stroked his lips gently.
Arthur breathed in deeply through his nose, tried not to speak. When he tried to lick his lips, he ended up licking the thumb, and the hands against his skin shivered.
What Arthur was quickly recognizing as lips pressed themselves against his right cheek, and then the tip of his nose, and then on his forehead.
And then the pressure disappeared. The bed shifted, and felt lighter. Quick footsteps, and then the terry cloth holding his left wrist came undone and slipped away. A moment later, the right one disappeared as well. And then the blindfold.
Arthur found himself staring up at Ford, who looked as if nothing had happened whatsoever.
Ford grinned his shark-like smile. "You really should learn to trust me, y'know."
Arthur blinked. "You mean… all of that business, and that's it?"
Ford blinked as well, surprised by the question. "What were you expecting?"
"Something…" Arthur's voice trailed off, and he shook his head firmly. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked at Ford more squarely. "That's all you wanted."
Ford shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure. Why not?"
Arthur looked at him for a long moment, and if he hadn't been watching so closely, he would've missed Ford's eyes cutting away from his, looking over at one of the bare walls for a moment.
Arthur stood to his full height, and while that wasn't very impressive, Ford's eyes snapped back to him. Arthur made a show of adjusting his robe, straightening himself out a little. Running a hand through his hair.
"Ford?"
"Yes, Arthur?" Ford's eyebrows lifted.
Arthur reached out slowly and got a firm grip of two handfuls of Ford's shirt. Pulling Ford to him, he kissed Ford's lips before licking them and inserting his tongue into Ford's mouth. Ford seemed momentarily surprised by the move, but he recovered admirably, swirling his tongue around with Arthur's as his hands came up and cupped Arthur's face firmly.
Tongues clashed and dueled in a slippery battle, spit exchanged as someone groaned and muttered incomprehensibly. Lips were licked, nibbled, kissed, and when both of them ran out of air, they pulled back reluctantly, Arthur licking at Ford's lips before Ford nibbled on his lower lip to the sound of him gasping.
Arthur's grip on Ford's shirt was white-knuckled as he glared into Ford's eyes. "If you ever do that again, you're going to bloody well *kiss* me, or you'll regret it. You got that?"
Ford took a breath and nodded. "Loud and clear." He glanced at Arthur's kiss-stung lips before looking up into Arthur's eyes. "So, want to have another go at it?"
Arthur dragged Ford forward again and kissed him deeply.
END
DISCLAIMER: The characters don't belong to me, but to Douglas Adams. Not mine, never were. Sorry!
FANDOM: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
PAIRING: Ford Prefect/Arthur Dent (MovieVerse)
RATING: PG-13 perhaps?
WORD COUNT: 1,896
WARNING(S): non-DNA writing style, slight towel!bondage
NOTES: Inspired by the rash of towel kink by
gildedmuse and chichan's artwork. Heh. Also inspired by 30_kisses, Kiss Scenario #21, violence; pillage/plunder; extortion -- though this probably doesn't count for any of those."You saved my life, Ford." Arthur said shakily as he wiped his sweaty forehead with a sleeve of his bathrobe. He was still shaking from having nearly been blown to bits by a random grenade, but Ford seemed to be nonchalant about the whole thing. If this was what hitchhiking across the galaxy was like on a daily basis, Arthur wasn't so sure whether he wanted to keep at it or not.
"It was nothing at all, Arthur, don't trouble yourself with apologizing," Ford said airily, waving his hand dismissively. "Though I am rather curious about something you said as we were crouched behind that pillar."
Arthur frowned. "What did I say?"
"That you'd let me have my way with you if we got out of it alive."
Arthur stopped short, his eyes widening. He *had* said that, hadn't he? Of course, he'd only said it as banter to stop from thinking of how many gruesome ways that the two of them could be blown to bits, but Ford was never known for recognizing sarcasm.
Now that he thought about it, Ford's reply of, "I'll hold you to that!" was less than comforting.
"I did say that, didn't I?" he asked out loud with a sinking feeling in his gut.
Ford nodded cheerfully, grinning wickedly. "Yes, you did, and like I said, I intend to hold you to it."
"Oh, dear."
"Oh, come on, Arthur!" Ford frowned. "It's not like I'm going to carve you into little pieces and put you into a stew." He turned and started heading in the direction of the ship.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Arthur muttered.
"What?" Ford looked over his shoulder at Arthur.
"Nothing," Arthur said quickly. "Let's head back to the ship."
Ford shrugged and started off.
Arthur had suspected since Ford's saving him from Earth being blown up that the alien had had… feelings for him. Ford had been polite enough to not actively try to jump on him and shove his tongue down Arthur's throat, but it was a bit disconcerting to find that his suspicions about how Ford felt about him were true after all.
Hopefully Ford wouldn't want him to do something too embarrassing.
***
Arthur found himself standing in front of Ford's quarters, and the butterflies in his stomach were fluttering like mad. Taking a deep, if not very fortifying, breath, he pressed the intercom button. "Ford?"
"Ah, Arthur!" came the cheerful, tinny reply. "Come on in!"
The doors opened, along with the nearly orgasmic sigh from Eddie, and Arthur was somewhat surprised to find Ford dressed as he usually was, sitting on the edge of his bed. When Arthur stepped into the room and the doors closed behind him, Ford stood up.
"There you are," he said, moving forward. "I was wondering where you were."
"Just getting something to drink."
Ford shot him a less than amused look. "One of these days, you're going to have to learn to trust me, you know."
"You were the one that told me after five years of being friends that you were actually an alien from somewhere near Betelgeuse, not me." Arthur pointed out.
Ford frowned. "That was necessary. Now, are you going to live up to your part of the bargain or not?"
"What if I said I didn't want to?" Arthur asked, trying not to sound desperate and failing miserably.
"Then I'd be terribly hurt, and you'd have a reputation for not being a man of your word. No one would ever trust you again. Do you really want that?"
Arthur sighed. "All right, fine. So, what did you want to do to me?"
Ford grinned, and Arthur found himself tempted to cover his neck. "First, lay down on the bed, hands over your head."
"What?"
"I'm sure you heard me, Arthur. I made sure to speak with simple words," Ford said in an aggravatingly calm voice. "Go lay down. I'll be right back."
With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Arthur laid down on the bed. Fluffing the pillow a few times before laying his head on it, he was surprised to find that Ford's pillow was much more comfortable than the one in his own quarters. He was going to have to steal it when Ford wasn't looking.
Still, that didn't change the fact that Ford… well, it was very likely that Ford was going to do *something* to him. It wouldn't be painful, but it could end up being more than a little embarrassing. Or maybe Arthur had been right, and Ford wanted to do… yes, well.
Arthur's thoughts were interrupted by the door opening again with its orgasmic sigh, and Ford returning with some dish towels, as well as his own towel thrown over one shoulder.
"Arms up, Arthur," Ford grinned cheerfully. "It'll be hard to tie your hands to the bedposts if you don't."
"Tie my… what?" Arthur asked.
"Tie your hands." Ford said reasonably, taking a hold of Arthur's right hand and tying it to the bedpost. "See, this will stop you from doing something silly like hitting me or trying to distract me. It's all very simple." He walked around the bed to the other side and did the same to Arthur's left wrist.
"You really *do* want to…" Arthur said with some surprise, unable to finish the statement when he realized that he had in fact been right all along. The concerned looks hadn't been nothing at all.
"Well, of course, I would." Ford replied, walking back around to Arthur's right side. "Why? You'd rather not?"
"Well, I have to admit that I hadn't thought of it before." Arthur admitted. "I mean, I sort of guessed that you might be… But I hadn't really thought about it myself."
Ford blinked. "Ahh. I see." He pulled out a length of black cloth. "Then it's a good thing I brought this, then. Here, lift your head and close your eyes."
Arthur frowned. "You aren't going to…"
Ford scowled at him. "Really, Arthur, don't you think you can trust me?"
"Well, yes, I can, but--"
"Then let me do this. Just this once and I'll never bother you with it again. All right?"
Arthur looked up at him for a long moment, and then closed his eyes. "All right."
Arthur felt the cloth wrapped around his eyes, the material soft against his cheeks. The hands at the back of his head made a secure knot, and then guided his head to lay back on the pillow.
"Too tight?"
Arthur shook his head. "No."
"You all right?" There was a note of concern in Ford's voice.
"Just a little nervous."
Fingers brushed down Arthur's right cheek. "That's perfectly normal."
"That's… that's good, I guess."
There was a long silence, and Arthur found himself wondering if Ford had stepped away from the bed until he felt hands, fingertips really, lightly stroke his face from forehead to chin, skirting his eyes.
"…Ford?"
A finger came to rest on his lips, pressing a little in a shushing motion.
"Shhh," Ford whispered along the skin of his cheek, rising to his ear. "Don't speak."
Arthur almost answered, but kept his mouth shut. A hand smoothed against his cheek and patted it gently.
The hands traveled his face a few times, the touches alternating between feather-sort and firm strokes. One hand slid into his hair, fingers weaving through in scritching and stroking motions. A finger stroked down either side of his jawline, brushing against the five o'clock shadow before settling on his neck. Fingers danced and traced around his Adam's apple, edged along the collar of his T-shirt, dipped mischievously underneath. Arthur breathed in through his nose slowly, breathed out in a shaky sigh.
Arthur felt the bed shift on his right side, and felt a leg press against the outside of his right thigh. The touches became lighter, fingers running themselves through his hair, the fingers at his throat sliding to the right, a thumb stroking along his jaw.
He swallowed a little, licking his lips unconsciously.
That's when he felt it. First, a light brush against his left cheekbone, then a nibble along his jawline. Arthur gasped at the sensation, his arms held in place by the two knotted dishtowels.
The hand in his hair slipped away, only to slide into his hair, a thumb brushing the underside of his left ear.
Arthur's lips parted --- he wanted to say something, tell Ford to just get on with it and kiss him already, something. But the hand around the right side of Arthur's neck slid back, and a thumb pressed against his lips.
"Shhh." The thumb stroked his lips gently.
Arthur breathed in deeply through his nose, tried not to speak. When he tried to lick his lips, he ended up licking the thumb, and the hands against his skin shivered.
What Arthur was quickly recognizing as lips pressed themselves against his right cheek, and then the tip of his nose, and then on his forehead.
And then the pressure disappeared. The bed shifted, and felt lighter. Quick footsteps, and then the terry cloth holding his left wrist came undone and slipped away. A moment later, the right one disappeared as well. And then the blindfold.
Arthur found himself staring up at Ford, who looked as if nothing had happened whatsoever.
Ford grinned his shark-like smile. "You really should learn to trust me, y'know."
Arthur blinked. "You mean… all of that business, and that's it?"
Ford blinked as well, surprised by the question. "What were you expecting?"
"Something…" Arthur's voice trailed off, and he shook his head firmly. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked at Ford more squarely. "That's all you wanted."
Ford shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure. Why not?"
Arthur looked at him for a long moment, and if he hadn't been watching so closely, he would've missed Ford's eyes cutting away from his, looking over at one of the bare walls for a moment.
Arthur stood to his full height, and while that wasn't very impressive, Ford's eyes snapped back to him. Arthur made a show of adjusting his robe, straightening himself out a little. Running a hand through his hair.
"Ford?"
"Yes, Arthur?" Ford's eyebrows lifted.
Arthur reached out slowly and got a firm grip of two handfuls of Ford's shirt. Pulling Ford to him, he kissed Ford's lips before licking them and inserting his tongue into Ford's mouth. Ford seemed momentarily surprised by the move, but he recovered admirably, swirling his tongue around with Arthur's as his hands came up and cupped Arthur's face firmly.
Tongues clashed and dueled in a slippery battle, spit exchanged as someone groaned and muttered incomprehensibly. Lips were licked, nibbled, kissed, and when both of them ran out of air, they pulled back reluctantly, Arthur licking at Ford's lips before Ford nibbled on his lower lip to the sound of him gasping.
Arthur's grip on Ford's shirt was white-knuckled as he glared into Ford's eyes. "If you ever do that again, you're going to bloody well *kiss* me, or you'll regret it. You got that?"
Ford took a breath and nodded. "Loud and clear." He glanced at Arthur's kiss-stung lips before looking up into Arthur's eyes. "So, want to have another go at it?"
Arthur dragged Ford forward again and kissed him deeply.
END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 08:40 pm (UTC)But hey, if you liked it, then rock on. Yay.
Giggled like a Catholic school girl? Hmmm. ::wink::
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 08:41 pm (UTC)I liked the dark-fic better, because I always like dark-fics better. And also because I've never read a Hithhikers dark-fic, and it was awesome. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 08:47 pm (UTC)As for Ford, yeah, I think he was going to do something much more explicit, but I think when he saw that Arthur was nervous, he decided to take what he could get. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 10:32 pm (UTC)Brilliant.
I giggled so much that my mom asked me what I was doing. Hehe *blush* NOTHING of course!
Towel!Bondage... *snerk*
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 10:57 pm (UTC)::grin::
Glad you liked.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 11:04 pm (UTC)<_< >_>
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 11:27 pm (UTC)As it is, you're *technically* younger than I am -- if my math is correct, I'm a whopping five years older than you are. Oh, no. I'm such an OLD person. Ack. Lemme grab my motorized walker. Hee.
This, however, does not mean that you're immature, nor a swaddled babe as pure as the driven snow. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 11:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-06 12:01 am (UTC)Personally, it's a bit silly, imo. I had to lie about my age to join an NC-17 list, and it wasn't like they could check for my birth records or something -- they had to take it on faith. As it was, I ended up sounding more mature than most of the people on the mailing list anyways.
Quite frankly, I'd be a hypocrite if I were to say, "Oh, you're so naughty! Don't read the naughty fic! It's not for you!" when I myself did the same thing when I was younger than you are now.
Pfft. What's even *better* is the fact that you yourself fall in that grey zone -- there's some states that say you have to be 18 to do this-or-that, and some states that say 17. Hell, in Georgia, you can get *married* at 14 with your parent's permission.
I mean, *really*.
So, yeah, I'll zip my lip about it. And hopefully, people won't get psychotic about LJ before your birthday rolls around again.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 10:34 pm (UTC)That was fantastic. I love it.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-05 10:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-08 06:38 pm (UTC)I've only got one tiny thing to point out which is that in the line Arthur's grip on Ford's shift was white-knuckled as he glared into Ford's eyes.
Is it supposed to be shift or shirt?
no subject
Date: 2005-05-08 06:40 pm (UTC)::sees mistake kindly pointed out by new reader::
Ack! Am now fixing! Thank you for catching that. I'm usually better about my spelling...
Glad you enjoyed, though. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2005-05-08 07:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-08 07:11 pm (UTC)::facepaw::
Still, glad you liked. ^_^