; Wow, umm, well…this is my first H2G2 fic, plus my first Ford/Arthur, so try not to bitch at me too much. I'm pretty sure of massacred Douglas Adams' work in this. So…urm, yeah. At this point I have no idea what's going to happen in this story, except that it's going to be a one-shot. I don't think I can pull off more than one chapter of this fandom yet. I've just started the third book..so I can't really get too in depth in the story.
Routine
'CRASH'
It had now been about 4 seconds since Arthur Dent had fallen backwards off his barstool and landed in a drunken stooper on the hardwood floor. This, surprisingly, did not draw stares from the people around him, as this sort of thing had recently become one of his nightly routines.
Ford Prefect, now on his third or fourth Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, turned his head slowly to look at the Earthman now attempting to upright himself. Seeing his traveling companion flailing about on the floor of a dingy galactic bar was just as unsurprising to him as the rest of the room because, as clearly stated before, over the last few weeks, Arthur had been doing a lot of this after Ford had insisted that they go have a drink, and then ended up getting the two of them utterly pissed.
Now, as also happened every night, one of Ford's hands dove into his coat pocket, pulling out several interesting neon colored bills, slammed them down onto the counter and proceeded to heave Arthur to his feet.
After accomplishing this, Ford would, with Arthur slumped on his shoulder, guide the two of them out of the bar and into the ally around the corner. Arthur dropped down onto one of the wooden crates stacked near the back and let his head rest in his hands for a few moments before Ford would, inevitably, come over to finish their nightly cycle.
The ginger haired man straddled Arthur's waist so that he was sitting squarely in his lap, and wasted no time in crushing his mouth against the drunker of the two's. Arthur wrapped his arms loosely around Ford's waist, Ford's hands shooting eagerly into in the other man's hair.
…This went on for some time before the two came up for air, then carried on again as if nothing had happened.
Arthur sighed as Ford let their mouths part and kissed his way down Arthur's jaw line to the crook of his neck. He nipped at the skin there, heard Arthur gasp, then grined one of his obscenely wide grins that only he could pull off, and ran his tongue over the bites.
This also went on for some time, until Ford abruptly stopped what he was doing, got up, and straitened his coat. Arthur looked at him like a confused child through tired, drunk eyes. He continued to look at him like a tired, drunk child until he could manage to find where his voice had wandered off to, and form words.
"Whu…why'd you stop?" he asked, his speech slurred.
Ford's horribly blue eyes glowed in the darkness, sending a shiver down Arthur's spine.
"Home," he said simply, the same as he had done countless nights before. Pulling the puzzled man up from his crate, they began their journey back to the spaceport and the Heart of Gold.
The two walked in silence for a good while before Ford's hand found it's way to Arthur's, and their fingers laced up. Arthur yawned, and rested his head contently on Ford's shoulder, giving his hand a light squeeze. Ford smiled. Not a his usual manic grin, but a real smile, and let his head rest against Arthur's.
…All part of the routine.
Hoorah! Wasn't that the most retarded thing ever? Yeah, that's what I thought. That was, sadly, the most graphic slash I've ever written. :D Then again, this is my 3rd slash fic, and the first that isn't South Park. So, I guess it was a good shot. Now, I'm going to read this over and hate it, and YOU will send me nice little reviews telling me that I'm too hard on myself. Or, you will send me nice little flames that tell me my grammar is horrible, and that this is the most disgusting thing you've read. "OMFG FORD/ARTHUR KISSING YOU'RE FUCKING GROSE THEIR FRIENDS!!!!"
R&R or R&F.
