Disclaimers: Gosh, what are the standard disclaimers for Blake's 7, anyway? The things you take for granted until you find a new fandom....
Summary: Avon doth protest. Blake thinks it's too much.
Warning: PG-13 for sexual suggestion.
Author's note: Look what followed me home, Ma! Can I keep it? I promise to take care of my old fandoms too....
Afterwards, they stretched out side by side on the bed platform for a while. One sat up eventually, swinging his legs over the side and smoothing his hair back with his hands. The other rolled closer, laid a hand on his thigh, and asked, "Where are you going, Avon?"
The sitting man shrugged. "Back to my bed," he said. When the other sighed and pulled him back down onto the mattress, he added stiffly, "You do understand that I still think your scheme is foolish, Blake."
Blake ran one hand caressingly down Avon's chest. "I didn't think this would change your mind about that, no," he said.
"I should go back to my quarters," Avon said again.
"Why?" Blake asked. "The ship's cold; you'll be more comfortable here."
Avon said nothing, but he didn't get up, either. Blake ran his hand over the other man's jaw, then settled himself down with his head pillowed on Avon's shoulder and draped his arm over his chest.
Avon sighed. To the plain dark arch of the ceiling, he said, "Don't think this means I won't opt out of here as soon as the opportunity appears."
"Mmm," Blake said.
"I'm a free man," Avon insisted, "and I have no intention of getting swept up in some madness of yours."
"Avon." Blake sighed into the collarbone under his cheek. "Shut up, will you?"
With an irritated sigh, Avon pulled his bedpartner closer, stretched out his body like a cat, and closed his eyes. After a few seconds, he shifted and said, "Blake--"
"Yes, Avon, I know," Blake replied, without moving.
"As long as that's clear then," Avon muttered. He rolled over until Blake was spooned up warmly behind him and promptly fell asleep.
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