Warning: Contains slash. Also contains Arthur being a lot more adventurous than usual and impromptu towel bondage. Because it just happened that way. Teehee.
Authors: Pirate Hatter and murderofonerose
Pairing: Ford/Arthur (of course)
Words: 2079
Disclaimer: We are not Douglas Adams, either separately or collectively.
The Arthur Dent Guide to Seduction
"Hey Arthur! Lookit me!" Ford began to dance wildly, clad only in Arthur's dressing gown, which he had stolen an hour previously.
"Give that back," cried Arthur, "it's cold in here."
"Oh alright, if you insist," Ford smiled mischievously and flung the gown over to Arthur, leaving himself standing naked in front of him.
Arthur made a face that tried to indicate resignation, but more closely resembled indecision.
"Thank you," he said curtly, covering up his own naked body.
Ford's smile turned to a grin and slight snickering.
"Oh anything for you, Arthur."
Arthur paused to consider this. "Anything?" he asked slowly.
Ford sidled up to Arthur, so close their noses were almost touching.
"Anything," he confirmed.
"Well, in that case…" Suddenly he grabbed Ford, maneuvered him into a conveniently placed chair, and used the cord from his dressing gown to tie him to it. For added security, he picked up a nearby towel and did the same, tightly if slightly more clumsily. He took a few steps back.
"I'll just get dressed now, shall I?" he said smugly. "You can watch."
To say Ford was shocked would be a vast understatement. He was momentarily stunned but soon got over it, kicking out and shouting.
"You zarking grakimime Shunstooter! I can't believe you!"
He paused.
"Though I am impressed."
"I've learned from the best," Arthur replied, pulling his underpants eversoslowly up his thighs.
Ford shook with a mixture of anger and arousal. Of course he'd be turned on by a reversed strip tease. No, that was completely normal. Except for the fact that Arthur was doing the reverse-stripping.
"You're a terrible, horrible person, Dent," Ford remarked as the underpants finished their journey up, much to his disappointment.
"As long as I'm not a jerk, that's fine."
Arthur paused, caught momentarily in the dilemma of whether or not to put his pajama top on next, or later, or not at all. To do so, he would have to take off the dressing gown, which would somewhat contradict the purpose of a reversed strip tease. After a moment he decided to eschew the top entirely and reached for his pajama bottoms, letting his fingers curl sensuously around the folds of its worn fabric.
Ford bit his lip, trying to not only focus on the show before him, but also on maneuvering his hands just so as to get them out of the bonds. Apparently, Arthur had paid attention as child when his father took him camping and taught him how to tie knots. Damn him.
Arthur saw Ford's struggling and grinned – not as unsettlingly as Ford by a long shot, but still enough to send shivers down his captive audience's spine. Slowly he sauntered over, dressing gown flapping open to reveal his bare chest.
"Hey, Ford," he said softly, skimming his fingers lightly down one of the dry-mouthed Betelgeusian's face.
Ford looked up to Arthur's face, electric blue eyes meeting soft grey ones. He swallowed, stilling his struggling hands in the bonds.
Arthur grinned again. He slid his hands down Ford's neck, along his collarbones, skin ghosting over skin. Watching Ford's pupils dilate as he did so was perhaps the most enthralling thing he'd ever witnessed.
Ford noticed his own breathing getting shallower and his blood rushing southward. He was still slightly annoyed at Arthur for getting dressed before deciding to tease him like this.
"You're delightfully evil, you know that?"
Arthur quirked an eyebrow at him. "Oh, am I?" he asked, doing a fair impression of innocence that was utterly belied by the way he was running his hands over the towel to Ford's lower body, resting his fingers deviously on the slight crease where hips became legs.
Ford felt his muscles twitch under Arthur's hands, wanting a lot more than the mere grazing of fingertips. Instead of frowning now, Ford smiled and relaxed back into the chair. He figured that Arthur probably knew what he was doing, and was curious to see just where he was going with it.
"Yes you are."
But Arthur, it seemed, had other ideas. He straightened, letting a hand run up one of Ford's pinned arms and rest teasingly on his shoulder as he circled around to stand behind the chair.
"Yes," he leaned down to breathe against Ford's neck, "I am."
At least…" Ford's breathing cut out on him once again. "…We're in agreement. But I must warn you of one thing, Arthur."
Arthur's lips trailed lightly up to his jaw. "What's that?"
"I'm going to get you for this. This is cruel and unusual torture."
"Mmm." Arthur's hand slipped under the towel to tweak lazily at one pert nipple. "I'm quaking in my proverbial boots."
Ford let his head fall back and sighed softly. "All kidding aside, I do appreciate how… bold you've become. Adjusting to life as a hitchhiker, are you?"
"Adjusting to life alone in a room with you, at least." Another lazy tweak, this time on the other side. "The rest, I can't really speak for."
Ford nodded and let a tiny moan escape his throat. Not much to say at this point. Arthur took advantage of the way his head had fallen back, brushing his lips over one cheek before bringing them to meet Ford's own. Ford kissed him with another moan, wiggling in his bonds so he was in a better position to make their mouths line up just right. He really hated how much of a tease Arthur was turning out to be.
Finally Arthur's other hand drifted back into play, gliding with startling suddenness along the inside of Ford's thigh… almost, but achingly not quite, as far up as it could go. The Earthman grinned into the kiss as Ford squirmed, trying to push that extra centimeter down to nothing.
"You seem impatient," he murmured. His hand went away, then burst back into Ford's awareness as a single fingertip trails slowly up and down his length. "Is that better?"
"It'd be better," Ford groaned against Arthur's lips, "if I could fuck you. But that," he paused to kiss Arthur deeply before pulling back again, "doesn't seem too likely."
"Well," Arthur replied, "maybe if you're very polite. I seem to recall you called me a zarking something or other a minute ago."
"Surely you don't expect me to apologize…" Ford nuzzled Arthur's cheek a bit awkwardly.
Arthur responded with a completely un-awkward fondling of his testicles, while at the same time pinching and rolling one nipple in a way that Ford was (or would be, if he were capable of coherent thought on the matter) proud to note that he had taught him.
"Like you said," Arthur murmured, planting a kiss on Ford's sweat-dampened temple, "cruel and unusual."
Ford whimpered pathetically and squirmed under Arthur's hands, wanting more. His mind was a haze of pleasure and irritation… but mostly pleasure.
Arthur crouched down behind the chair and sighed into Ford's hair, his own breathing a little heavy. He would like to feel Ford squirming against him instead of just his hands… still, he'd brought him this far and it seemed only right to finish what he'd started.
Ford's hips thrust upwards into nothing, wanting to feel Arthur there instead of just his hands.
"Nnn… Arthur," Ford whispered, feeling sweat collect on his brow, "Arthur… need you…!"
"Good," Arthur whispered back, and gave his whole hand over to the task of wrapping around Ford, agitating the already hot skin with more friction. His head dipped down to nip at Ford's collarbone, the salty tang of perspiration seeping into his mouth as his fingers splayed and juddered over Ford's ribcage in the tight confines of the towel. Arthur moved up to kiss him soundly.
"Mmn!!" Ford smiled and came in Arthur's hand, shaking with the pleasure that had been put off for far too long.
When he was done, he let his head fall forward and took in a deep breath.
"That was nice…"
Arthur pressed a kiss against the back of his neck. "Really?" he teased lightly. "And here I thought you weren't enjoying yourself in the slightest."
Ford laughed a tired laugh and shook his now damp gingery head. "Well then, your observational skills may need to be improved."
"Ah. And I suppose now you would like me to observe the untying of these knots?"
"Snarky today, aren't you." Ford snorted and looked up to the wall in front of him. "I would actually like you to untie the knots for me, then observe me kicking your tight little arse."
"In order to actually watch that," Arthur replied dryly, "I would have to dislocate my neck." But his arms wrapped around Ford as he reached in front for the knot in the towel.
"You know what I mean," Ford rolled his eyes and leaned back in the chair. "I believe you've hit a new low."
Arthur fumbled with the knots for a moment, then hooked his chin over Ford's shoulder so he could actually see what he was doing. When he finally got it loose, he let the towel and dressing gown cord slide to the floor, and ran his palms over the part of Ford's chest he hadn't had much access to before.
Ford jumped up and turned on Arthur, in all his naked glory. "I mean… tricking your best friend, tying him up, and molesting him? Tsk tsk, naughty Earthman."
"That's more or less what you did to me the first time," Arthur pointed out, but with a slightly sheepish smile. He rearranged himself into a sitting position on the floor and leaned back on his hands, watching Ford appreciatively. "Except for tying me up, of course, but I'm fairly sure you were considering it up until the moment I gave up on what was left of my tattered dignity and started kissing back."
"Well… you have me there." Ford admitted, looking for his clothes. All he could see was his argyle jumper. "You wouldn't happen to know where in Zarquon's name my clothes went, would you?"
Arthur fidgeted, and didn't answer.
Ford considered the silence and thought.
"You… didn't happen to take them did you?"
"I don't know where they are," Arthur replied unconvincingly. He fidgeted again.
"Liar!" Ford's hand shot out accusingly as he struck a very dynamic pose. "You took them!"
The fact that Arthur's nether region was rapidly earning more blood flow than his brain just from looking at Ford was doing nothing to help his attempts to sit still. Even the cold floor didn't seem to make a difference.
"You look much better without them," he tried.
Ford posed dramatically again, with a hand obscuring his face slightly and another on his chest. It was very Shakespearian.
"But Arthur! I cannot venture into space with nothing but a satchel and a sweater! I fear for my life! Oh woe is me!"
No wonder Ford's cover was an out of work actor.
"I think they're somewhere on the floor, here," Arthur said. "But I forget. You'll have to help me look."
"Oh I will, of course. Clothes, while being extremely primitive and oftentimes nothing but a nuisance, are a cultural crutch." Ford knew Arthur wouldn't notice if he decided to quote the Guide directly. So he did.
Somewhere in Arthur's brain this phrasing registered as vaguely familiar, but he was perfectly happy not to care as Ford joined him on the floor. He slipped an arm around the slender Betelgeusian and laid his head on his shoulder.
Ford's mind continued to work as he laid on the floor with Arthur. Where could his clothes possibly have gone?
"Arthur?"
Arthur was busy molding himself against Ford's side.
"Hrmmwha?" he responded vaguely.
"How exactly does lying on the floor help me find my clothes? Not that I don't enjoy how snuggly you are."
Arthur blinked. "Um… Ford…"
"Yes?"
"You do realize that I just… well, you know, for you, and… could you…" He wiggled against him expressively. "Please?"
Ford laughed and sat up.
"You silly Earthman. Next time, just be direct about it." And with that, Ford was kissing a trail down Arthur's chest, to his stomach, and then to his crotch.
Arthur groaned and arched up towards the source of the warm breath caressing him through his pajamas, beginning to regret putting them back on.
"Now, are you sorry for tying up Ford?" The ginger haired alien grinned up at Arthur while one hand rubbed him slowly through the thin material.
