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Prior to Larry letting him out of his sarcophagus, the last touch Ahk had had while he was conscious was some 4,000 years ago, and even then it was the hands of his brother clamped over his mouth to keep him from screaming.
Prior to Larry letting him out of his sarcophagus, Ahk had spent the last 4,000 years in the dark. Apparently (according to Sacagawea) it was a miracle that his eyes had adjusted so well to light (probably the tablet) and were back to normal.
But even so he finds himself focusing on details now that he could see: the soft looking texture of Larry’s hair; the catch of calluses on fingertips and joints; the smoothness of the skin on the backs of Larry's hands. He is inordinately fascinated by Larry’s hands, has a new appreciation for the delicate things, for the victorious clasp of shoulder and upper arm, for the friendly clap on the back.
Slightly more worrying is the way Larry’s lips catch Ahk's attention. He wonders if they will be chapped and dry like cracked earth, or as smooth as fine silk. Will they possess a welcoming warmth? Or will Ahk have to raise that warmth to the surface himself, with sharp nips and blunt force?
But Ahk knows how Larry would react to that (by running away), so as much as he would like to study the delineation between angular wrist and jacket fabric, he does not. He is subtle. In the office (with Larry doing paperwork), he stands close when he can, bent over Larry’s shoulder, pretending to read, hand on Larry’s lower back to steady himself. In the tiny office kitchen, he reaches over Larry to grasp a piece of kitchenware to ask questions about, brushing hips and shoulders and arms. On the floor during museum movie nights, he allows his knee just the slightest touch against Larry’s. He relishes every touch Larry gives him in return: an arm thrown over Ahk's shoulders when Larry’s feeling affectionate, the brush of their fingers as Ahk passes pens or his fallen flashlight, the way Larry will manhandle Ahk if they're playing a game. (Mostly hide and seek, Jed and Octy love that one.)
Ahk makes do with these things, because he must. He does not ask for more than he thinks he will get.
~*~
The thing is, Larry notices.
Most assume his observation is limited at best. They’re wrong, and usually Larry doesn’t bother to correct them. They underestimate him, so much the better. (And just because he sees behaviors, doesn’t follow that he knows what they mean.) But the things that are important, he pays attention to. Ahk is important. Larry pays attention.
The pattern is more obvious than Ahk probably intends it to be, but it takes Larry a while to understand what it means.
Ahk doesn’t hover so much as orbit Larry. When Larry needs a consult, Ahk is at his elbow, fingers resting delicately at the small of Larry’s back. When Larry sits down, Ahk sits next to him. When Larry is in the office kitchen, Ahk is at his back, supplying him with coffee cups or utensils or plateware as necessary. It’s an odd dance, and Ahk never stays close for long, but he never ventures very far either.
Larry tests his hypothesis. He asks for pens more often: every time, one or more of their fingers brush. He puts his hands on Ahk's shoulders, elbows, upper arms, back. He hangs off Ahk's shoulders when he’s working, and high-fives or fistbumps with the slightest provocation. Ahk leans into the touches, each one. Ahk is clearly touch-starved (Larry can recognize the signs of his own affliction), but the puzzling thing is, Ahk only reacts this way to Larry. He doesn’t seek out the company of the other exhibits, doesn’t pine after their touch.
Ahk only wants Larry.
Once Larry realizes this, he springs into action (metaphorically). He calls on Teddy and tells him to look after the museum for the night while he does other things (he doesn't mention what and Teddy doesn't ask but there's a knowing twinkle in his eyes.)
That night, he heads to work, goes to the kitchen to collect coffee to keep him up, and then heads down to the tomb. As usual, Ahk is just getting up, dressing in his royal clothes that he keeps on during the night instead of his bandages.
Instead of leaving once he realizes Ahk's alright or talking to him like he does most nights, Larry simply grabs the pharaoh's wrist and tugs him down to his office instead, ignoring the questions that are thrown at him or the light scolding he gets because he made Ahk forget his crown and won't let him go back for it.
"Sit down," Larry directs once they're in the office. Ahk settles down on one end of the couch, huffily crossing his arms over his chest as he does, looking curious and a touch cautious. Larry does the same on the other side of the couch, then realizes Akhs much too far away, so Larry grabs his arm and drags him in, situating his head on Larry’s chest, body slumped against Larry’s side, Larry’s arm wrapped around him and already beginning to fuss with the short hairs on the back of his neck.
"Larry?" Ahk asks, voice a little high, startled. He doesn’t pull away. Not even slightly.
"Shh. We’re snuggling,” Larry says, opening his latest folder of "blueprints for the holographs" that he has to turn into McPhee and so has to make seem realistic. Ahk's head partially blocks his view, but he doesn’t move either Ahk or the folder.
"Larry," Ahk says, a little more severely.
"Aht. Snuggling.” Larry tilts the page so Ahk can see it better. "What do you think?"
"I thought we were snuggling, Larry, not working," Ahk says, dry. He eases himself into a more comfortable position, head resting a little more securely against Larry’s chest, body a little tighter against Larry’s, one hand on Larry’s thigh for balance, the other already reaching for the page to ask more questions of "Whats this?" and "What's that?". Larry quietly revels in the sensation of Ahk's body against his, solid and slightly warm; he can feel each of Ahk’s half-clenched fingers on his thigh, and the broad sweep of his palm pressing lightly.
"We’re doing both," Larry says. "Or is that against the Snuggling Rulebook?"
"If there was such a thing, I doubt you’d care to follow it."
"Damn straight."
They continue as usual, Larry answering all of Akh's questions(which is actually a good way of testing out the plans, because if he can't explain how it works what's the point in handing it in to McPhee?) But this time Larry gets to run his fingers through Akh's hair. It’s thick and baby-soft, prickly against his fingertips when he goes against the grain. Every time he does so, there’s a nearly imperceptible catch of breath he can feel through his shirt. Akh's breath is warm, for all he runs slightly cooler than baseline human after spending so much time dead.
Finally, Ahk interrupts their inconsequential banter. "Larry, you do have a museum to take care of you know."
"Nope," Larry says. "Teddy's on top of it all." He hopes.
"All of it?" Ahk asks, pulling away to meet Larry’s eyes. His hand is still against Larry’s thigh, gripping now to keep his balance; Larry is only slightly distracted.
"Yep. I’m all yours tonight, Ahk.”
"I do hope we won’t walk out of this office and find everything on fire."
Larry laughs. "We probably will." Well, on the bright side... he hasn't heard screaming yet. "Now come back here, I’m not done with you."
Ahk resists, staying just slightly apart so he can meet Larry’s eyes. "Larry, I don’t understand. What are you doing?”
"I told you. Snuggling. Don’t think I didn’t notice your stealth-touching, Akh. You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”
For the moment, Ahk seems unbothered that he was caught. He asks, a plaintive note slipping into his tone, “But why do you care?”
Larry’s confused. "Ahk…why would you think I wouldn’t?"
Ahk pulls away entirely, and that’s the opposite of what Larry wants. Larry grabs his hand to entwine their fingers, and Ahk lets him, looking at their hands, mystified. "I did not want you to run away from me. I never want you to run away from me.”
"I wouldn’t," Larry says quietly, tugging on their linked hands to catch Ahk's attention, turning toward him fully so he’s sideways on the couch. When the pharaoh looks up, Larry grins a bit. "I would never do something like that, especially not to you.”
Ahk looks up, swallows and then says, “Larry, may I kiss you?”
"Jesus, you even need to ask?" Larry says, then puts a hand to the nape of Ahk’s neck and pulls until their lips meet.
It’s a chaste kiss, just Larry’s slightly chapped lips against Ahk's inhumanly smooth ones, and Larry pulls away before too long. Ahk looks dazed, brown eyes wide and pupils blown. His hair is ruffled from Larry’s fingers. His tongue snakes out, as if to taste Larry on his lips, and Larry has to kiss him again. And again. And a fourth time, more deeply, with tongue. After that, Larry stops counting, concentrates on getting closer to Ahk, on fitting their hips together, on wrapping Ahk's long legs around his hips and his arms around Ahk's shoulders.
It’s Ahk who pulls away this time, touching his forehead to Larry’s, chest rising and falling unevenly. His eyes are shut, and from this distance Larry could count every one of Ahk's eyelashes.
"Larry," Ahk says breathlessly. "I believe we should check on the others."
"Really," Larry deadpans. "You’re stopping the most epic of make-outs for to check on those idiots?"
Ahk sits up primly, unwinding his legs from around Larry and swinging them to the floor, twitching his sleeves down over his wrists and making sure his collar sits straight. Larry is a bit disappointed in himself: he was so concerned with kissing, he didn’t even manage to take any clothing off. Oh, well. Maybe after they've checked on the children.
~*~
Now that he has been given permission to touch, Ahk does so. He does not lose contact with Larry for more than a moment, holding his hand as they tour the museum to make sure all the exhibits are alright. Jed and Octy see them doing this, cheer and then start blushing and stammering when Larry advises them to do the same. Teddy congratulates them too, and tells them that it really wasn't necessary to come check on everyone, "I have this under control, Lawrence, go enjoy yourself."
They meander back toward the office once Larry is satisfied that no one's dying yet. Ahk is talking with his hands, and Larry keeps pace, a small smile quirking his lips and a hand gentle on the small of his back. Ahk expects them to sit on the couch like they had earlier—he had much enjoyed listening to Larry's heartbeat so close to him—but Larry surprises him.
Larry sits with his back against the armrest and pulls Ahk down between his legs. Ahk slumps down so the curve of his spine is against Larry’s belly, firm with muscle and just a little giving. Larry hooks his chin over Ahk’s shoulder, cheek to cheek. Ahk rises slightly with his every inhale, falls back with each exhale.
"Okay?" Larry interrupts himself to ask, winding his arms around Ahk's middle and clasping his hands together. Ahk tentatively rests his hands atop them, squeezing gently. His knuckles are knobby, skin soft just like he thought it would be. His forearms are corded muscle underneath Ahk’s, dark hair wispy and soft. Ahk shifts his arms just so he can feel the drag of that hair against his skin.
"Yes," Ahk says. He adds, almost shyly, “Quite.”
"Good," Larry says, pleased. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Larry’s grin. Larry raises his knees to bracket Ahk’s hips, Ahk’s legs stretched out along the couch.
Ahk lets out a little puff of breath and closes his eyes, resting his head against Larry’s shoulder and ignoring the dig of ribs against his back.
Larry doesn’t loosen his hold.