Apr. 5th, 2005 @ 05:53 pm
Galahad idly tucks away his sword and heads back from a day's training, pausing along the way to talk to a girl that he's slept with before -- ages ago, after Gawain and he had gone separate ways the first time -- and as he's speaking to her, it slowly dawns on him that he's not sure what is going to keep Gawain and himself from delving into that place again with the arguments and the jealousy.
He smiles and kisses her on the cheek before heading back for their quarters, hoping Gawain will be in there. It's as he goes inside and finds Gawain sitting where Galahad thought he might that Galahad realizes that he hasn't a word to speak, he doesn't know what to say even.
"I saw Dierdre in the halls," Galahad blurts out stupidly. He may have recovered well from the physical injuries, but his mind is as jumbled a mess as it ever was. Gawain knows who the girl is, and likely, Gawain knows about Galahad sleeping with her. "She said hello," he lies.
"Oh," says Gawain, a little faintly. "That's nice." He plucks at the sleeve of his tunic. "How is she?"
Gawain doesn't really care how Deirdre is, of course, but he is vaguely curious as to why Galahad felt the need to bring her up, considering his history with the girl.
Galahad frowns and sits down beside Gawain. "She pulled me aside to say hello," he explains. "And I began to think...of the last time that we..." he tapers off, slowly moving his hand onto Gawain's thigh and stroking lightly. "Gawain, I think we might need to talk," Galahad says, almost afraid of his own words.
He looks up at Gawain's face. "Because I don't want that to happen again. So we should maybe discover why
Gawain feels a faint flash of irritation but then he looks in Galahad's face and realises that Galahad is perfectly in earnest. He looks down at the hand on this thigh and covers it with his own.
"I don't want it to happen again either," he says slowly. "But things are different now, aren't they? They're more..." He waves his hand. "Out in the open."
"Was it really the others meddling that faulted us the last time?" Galahad asks, shrugging. "I hadn't paid them any mind. It was just that...we got so jealous and so possessive and so..." he trails off, unable to find the word he's looking for. "And then I started flirting with girls and you started and we both started sleeping around," Galahad continues, feeling a little ill.
"Will we stop it by having it in the open? The Knights know, but Arthur wants us to pretend like we never told him and act the same," Galahad murmurs, withdrawing his hand from Gawain's as he rises to pace. "And I don't want to force you into promises just for me. In fact," Galahad clears his throat. "You don't even have to remain in the quarters, you know. I'm far more than healed, you can move back to your old chambers now."
Gawain watches Galahad pace. "I meant that things are more out in the open between you and me," he says, a little gruffly. "I couldn't care less what the others say or think."
He stands up too. "If you want me to move back to my own quartersif , I will, Galahad, but I do not think that that is the matter at hand, is it?"
"Oh," Galahad stops pacing. "Yes, I suppose between you and me they are. But we sort of fell back into this, didn't we?" he laughs nervously, recalling the literal falling back into each other's arms. "Gawain, I don't to ruin this and I don't want to start fighting," he says seriously. "So can we please figure it out?"
He shrugs. "I thought you were staying with me until I healed. I've healed. You can leave now."
Bearing in mind that Galahad doesn't
want to fight, Gawain has to take a few deep breaths before he can respond. "What, precisely, do we need to figure out, Galahad? I love you and, somehow, I've grown used to staying with you. I like staying with you. I don't want to argue either but you sound like you're trying to pick a fight."
trying to pick a fight!" he replies stubbornly, eyes blazing with irritation. He frowns and shakes his head. "But...but don't you remember last time? We fought and I was jealous and you were possessive and it got to be a mess! I love you too, but I just..." he trails off slightly, clearing his throat.
"I suppose I expected you to leave," he says quietly. "Because I didn't think you'd want to be so attached to me." He frowns and looks down at the ground, his posture slumping. He looks up slowly. "Are you going to do the same thing? Are we going to wind up just breaking apart again?"
Gawain grits his teeth and stands up. "We are not
going to break apart again, Galahad. I admit that I appear to be rather more attached than I had expected and if you want a little space, that's fine. I'll move back to my own room." He takes a step closer to Galahad. "We are not, however, going to finish over petty jealousies or pretty whores, do you understand?"
"I don't want a little space," Galahad mumbles, picking at his tunic idly, eyes downcast as though he can't face Gawain. "I just...the others are going to pass comment and..." Galahad takes a deep breath. "You know what?" Galahad looks up, meeting Gawain's gaze. "It's your choice. And I would be fine if you went back to your own quarters."
He presses his lips together and nods quickly. "I understand. I think it's better now. I mean, I'm older, I understand better. And I know what it feels like to lose you," Galahad says evenly, digging his nails into his palm. "Promise me one thing," Galahad requests. "If you have some problem with me, don't go quiet and go complain to Lancelot or Tristan. Tell me? If you hate me suddenly, tell me
Gawain is flabbergasted. "Why would I hate you, Galahad?" he asks. He shrugs. "And why would I complain to either Lancelot or Tristan. And why, for that matter," he says, really getting into his stride. "Would I care if the others pass comment? It can be no worse than it was when they realised what... exists between us."
A little helplessly, he raises his hand and touches Galahad's cheek.
Galahad frowns as Gawain touches his cheek. "Didn't you hate me when we first split, those years before? When all was said and done, all the things you yelled at me," Galahad gives a quiet laugh, "it really did appear that you hated me quite viscerally, if your actions and words were proof."
He closes his eyes. "Stay with me," he requests quietly, his words slurring together as he thinks this through as quickly as he can. "Or I can move into your quarters and stay there. But why should we bear any of this apart when we don't have to?" He opens his eyes, feeling calmer than before and a little anxiety at how it seems they have resolved this conversation. "Are you implying that you don't want us to split up for good?" Galahad inquires quietly. "Because it sounds like that and I can't help but remember how much you want a Sarmatian wife."
Gawain looks at Galahad with an almost curious expression on his face. "I was angry, Galahad. I said... ay, I shouted... many things I did not mean. I wanted to hurt you even though I can't bear the thought of it now."
He rubs his hands over his face. "And I don't want us to split up, Galahad. If I did, I wouldn't have ever moved into your room. If I did, I would never have allowed you to get so close to me." Gawain thumps his fist over his heart. "But I have."
Galahad just gazes at Gawain, touched at what he's been allowed to see and a little surprised. They were never this close the last time around and even this time, it's a little strange to see Gawain bear so much to him. "It hurt," Galahad admits. "It did. You hurt me quite a bit last time because I'd loved you and I didn't stop." He licks his lips, trying to chase the dryness away. "And you yelled so many things that seemed so true, that I thought you felt..." he trails off.
Galahad leans in, pressing his forehead to Gawain's and wrapping his arms around Gawain's back, idly dangling down and resting just atop his arse. "You were a rather stubborn bastard about letting people in," Galahad teases lightly. "It's like you're all new now."
Gawain laughs shakily. "Well, now that you're in, you bastard, you'd want to behave yourself."
He smiles at Galahad and slips his arms around Galahad's waist before kissing his mouth softly. "We just have to remember a few things. We need to remember to talk to each other above everything else."
Galahad nods slowly, his eyes closed. "Talking," he murmurs, his voice barely more than a hum. "Talking, of course." He pushes a little closer to Gawain, pushing him closer to the cot. "Right. Well, to begin with," Galahad opens his eyes, pushing them both down onto the cot. "I want you to stay here then," he says evenly. "For good. Or as long as is good for you. Get your other things, move them here." He gives a cocky little grin. "And I'll make a show of telling the others. They can be as horrified as they want."
"Moving on. If you want to sleep with a girl," Galahad hesitates on this. "Please just tell me first? I don't want you to be with just me because you feel you have to."
He leans up and kisses Gawain hard. "I'll clear out of the quarters if you want to bring a whore back. I promise. Lastly...I uh," Galahad clears his throat. "I like how you've been treating me. Not just lately, but since that day on the battlefield." He hangs his head. "Like, the tavern that night. It felt...nice."
"Nice, is it?" asks Gawain and he cups Galahad's face in his hands. He smiles gently before becoming serious again. "The same goes for you. With whores and the like. Just... give me warning. That'd save me walking in on you." He rests his hands on Galahad's waist. "Don't rise to the other's teasing, Galahad. Ignore them and they'll soon grow to accept or to be bored by it. Yes, even Tristan. If you distract me when we are on a mission, you can be sure that I'll tell you. And if I distract you from doing your job, you must tell me."
"Well, so long as we don't give them a split to laugh and talk and jeer about," Galahad lightly accepts, smiling softly as he looks up at Gawain. "You will bring your things about? Keep them here and share my cot? It'd be good if only for the warmth," Galahad teases. He exhales slowly, tugging Gawain down atop him lazily, one hand running through Gawain's hair. "I still say Arthur is sleeping with Lancelot," he murmurs. "So I don't see how suddenly, we're all they talk about."
"Don't really fancy a whore," Galahad comments idly. "Unless, of course, you'd want to share?" He shrugs, his free hand slipping under Gawain's shirt and stroking up and down his back. "The thought of a night of activity without you just doesn't appeal like it used to. But we could share," he blurts out quickly, trying to keep their options open.
"I'll bring my things," says Gawain softly. He murmurs with pleasure as Galahad runs his hand through his hair. "And I agree about Arthur and Lancelot. There can be no question." Gawain shakes his head and shivers as Galahad's hand slips under his shirt. "I cannot believe that the others have the gall to call us lovesick puppies when you think of the looks Lancelot gives Arthur."
He bows his head and kisses Galahad."I suppose there is no reason to restrict ourselves," he allows cautiously. "Although I do not see the need for company for the foreseeable future," he adds and he kisses Galahad lightly. "I have my hands full with you, after all," he teases.
Galahad pouts, affronted. "They called us lovesick puppies
?" he nearly spits out, horrified. "When! And why would they ever...!" Galahad trails off, shaking his head. "Or...you meant the in love part, didn't you?" He gives an awkward laugh. "Right, they would never actually call us that. Right?" he confirms worriedly.
Galahad moans into Gawain's kisses. "I can be quite the handful," Galahad cheekily replies, pushing his hips up against Gawain's, his hands moving lower to Gawain's hips and tugging him closer. "But if we wanted...we could bed the girl together. And then we could sate any outside desire, and have each other still."
Galahad grins. "It's far better than accidentally walking in on it, as you said." He moves his hands to Gawain's shirt and tugs it off, throwing it over to the side and running his palms up and down Gawain's chest. "And of course I'll tell you if you're distracting me more than usual."
Gawain laughs. "No, they don't call us that. Although Bors does
call you a whelp," he adds thoughtfully.
Gawain shivers as Galahad caresses his chest and he starts to nuzzle at Galahad's throat and jaw. "You're distracting me now, you know. Very much indeed.
"Tell me, brave and
noble knight. What would we do exactly
if we bedded a girl together?"
Galahad tries to put that news aside. He's known they've called his names, but 'whelp' is surprisingly acceptable over other names they could call him. "Whelp," he mutters. "Just because I'm the youngest and the smallest doesn't mean..." he continues, affronted as he tries to get past it.
Gawain's talented mouth is quite the aid and he gives a happy murmur at Gawain's nuzzling, one hand stroking up Gawain's back and burying into Gawain's hair, the other hand moving lower and lower, pushing past the fabric of Gawain's breeches and cupping at his arse.
"Details?" Galahad grins mischievously. "You want lewd details of the sexual acts we would commit?" he continues, voice light with bemusement. "Well...I'd want to watch you take her," Galahad lowers his voice slightly, turning to kiss at Gawain's temple, giving him a little bit of force to indicate that the nuzzling shouldn't stop. "You on top, thrusting so slowly. Your back, you know, is quite magnificent."
Gawain keeps nuzzling, as directed. "It is, is it?" he asks breathlessly. "I am glad it meets with your approval."
He ducks his head and starts to kiss downwards. "I like your chest, personally." He bites softly at one of Galahad's nipples to prove his point. As he continues kissing, he asks, "So, I will take the girl and you will watch? That does not seem very satisyfing for you..."
Galahad grasps a fistful of beddings. "A-ah," he lets out a gasp of a moan as Gawain bites. "She'll...be busy moaning from what you're doing. A person doesn't watch while you're taking them," he chastises lightly, breathing a little more raggedly. He gives a half-grin. "My chest?" Galahad asks breathlessly, running his free hand up Gawain's side, clasping the hips.
"I'll be..." Galahad mumbles, trying to get the words. "I'll be right there, Gawain. Watching and relieving myself, satisfying myself." He tilts his head to find Gawain's lips and steal a long kiss, pushing hard. "Because then," he whispers into Gawain's mouth. "I'm going to go down on her."
"Lucky girl," murmurs Gawain against Galahad's lips before he kisses him lightly and repeatedly.
"I shall be watching, I daresay. Recovering until it is my turn again."
Gawain continues kissing a path down Galahad's body, lingering with all tenderness on the scar across his abdomen. "Will you take her, do you think?" he muses, tracing a finger up Galahad's side. "While I take you?"
He looks up at Galahad's face. Gawain's own face is all but completely obstructed by the curtains of his hair but a cheeky grin is visible, none the less. He bows his head again and kisses inwards along the crease of Galahad's thigh.
Galahad's breath is sharper, more inhalations than anything else and he's gasping loudly. "If she allows me," he gets out. "I would take her with her permission, but I dare say I wouldn't let you distract me," Galahad moans, his fingers pushing Gawain's hair back and stroking his face. "I would certainly lose control."
Galahad bites his lip, turning his head as his back arches. "Don't just...tease me," Galahad begs.
Gawain laughs, hot puffs of air against Galahad's skin.
you?" he asks. "Oh, never
He clasps Galahad's hips and lowers his mouth, continuing to breath hotly over Galahad before he gives in and takes Galahad's length into his mouth. Gawain concentrates on the task at hand; on giving Galahad as much pleasure as possible while stroking his hips lightly.
Galahad lets out a good string of curses under his breath as he clasps bunches of the beddings in his fists. "Gawain," he cries out, wanting to say a dozen other things, but losing them because they just don't make any sense in his head. His feet dig in deeper into the cot and he throws his head back to the ceiling, letting out a sharp cry.
"Oh," he pants. "Oh, you really...are...still very good at...this," he manages to get before a moan escapes him.
Gawain raises his head, knowing
that Galahad does not want him to stop.
"Am I?" he asks lightly. "I haven't' fallen out of practice then?" He lays a soft kiss on Galahad's abdomen.
"B-bastard," Galahad hisses, his body shaking with his breaths. "Why did you stop
?" he snaps, on edge and wanting more. "More!" he demands petulantly, one hand threading into Gawain's hair and trying to guide him back down. "Please," he pleads. "Please, Gawain. You're wonderfully in practice, but if you don't continue, you'll be on the stoop of our door."
With that, he arches his back a little to get comfortable. "And if you're mean to me, I'll be mean to you."
"Promise?" asks Gawain teasingly before he relents and licks Galahad up and down. He clasps Galahad's hips tighter and shows very little mercy, quite determined to return Galahad to his previous incoherent state.
"You don't know teasing," Galahad exhales in one breath, "until I'm pushing my tongue into you and teasing you that way," he finishes in a rush. "I never felt inclined to be...to be...that mean, but...if you're going to f-force me to start," his voice is ascending octaves now and he lets out a high-pitched noise as Gawain hits the right place with his tongue.
"Please," he begs again, his voice lower now, stuck in his throat. "Gawain, please. Need you. Make me yours again."
Gawain groans at Galahad's words and, using one hand to stroke Galahad slowly but relentlessly, Gawain pushes down his trousers, kicking them away.
"You are mine," he breathes and he runs his hand along the underside of one of Galahad's thighs, pushing it up towards Galahad's chest.
Galahad allows his leg to go with Gawain's push, stretching it towards his chest with a little bit of leverage. He bites down on his grin and watches Gawain with a mixture of adoration and desperation. "Good," Galahad exhales. "Because you're not getting rid of me...so easily now," he gets out the words with some difficulty.
His hips push forward, pushing right into Gawain's slow strokes and Galahad breathes in and out, just trying to breathe as Gawain teases him. Very slowly, Galahad spreads his thighs, just to hint, just to suggest. He meets Gawain's gaze and gives him a mischievous little grin. "Take me."
Gawain leans down and kisses Galahad briefly. "If you insist," he says, with a teasing smile on his face.
Growling slightly at the delay caused by reaching for the (by now ever-present) flask of oil by the cot, Gawain slicks up his fingers to thoroughly prepare Galahad. He caresses Galahad's stomach and thighs as he does so before taking himself in hand.
With another breathless smile at Galahad, Gawain positions himself and presses against Galahad.
Galahad bites his lip, grinning up at Gawain. "If I were a girl," he gasps out, thrusting his hips up to let Gawain in deeper. "I would plead for you," he breathes raggledly, hands caressing Gawain's back as he spreads his thighs a little further. "Plead so hard, and..." he stops talking when Gawain pushes deep enough to steal his words.
"Oh," he moans, one hand clumsily dislodging from Gawain's hip to stroke at himself slowly. "Y'know, the...the...g-girls would want it...too."
"Would they?" gasps out Gawain as he settles into a comfortable, hard rhythm. "Two -- ah!
-- knights are better than one, th-then?" he asks lightly before he groans and arches his back.
, Gal'had!" he moans and he twines his fingers with Galahad's, stroking him firmly.
"Gawain," Galahad calls out, his head tilting back to the ceiling as he lets out a long moan, back arching forward violently and pushing against Gawain, stroking their hands over himself harder and harder until finally, it's too much.
He bites his lip hard enough that it begins to bleed and he lets out a yelp, shouting Gawain's name as he climaxes.
He breathes heavily, tightening his clasp on Gawain's hand. "Girls would pay," he murmurs, "to get claimed by you."
Gawain climaxes mere (thunderous, pounding) heartbeats later and collapses on top of Galahad, effectively pinning him to the bed.
"They'd pay?" he asks shakily. "Then what have I been doing wrong all these years I have been paying them
?" He grins and shifts slightly to the side, resting his cheek on Galahad's shoulder.
"You just didn't frame your offer properly," Galahad groans slightly, giving Gawain a slight shove off him, burrowing his nose in Gawain's neck. "They all know how good you are, they all talk about it. They would pay to have you," he grins and pokes Gawain on the nose, "do to them what you just did so wonderfully to me."
He gives a sated sigh, draping one arm over Gawain's waist. "Mmm," he murmurs, grinning a little wider. "You are good."
"Thank you," mumbles Gawain, content to lie entangled with Galahad for a few moments.
"Wait," he says, propping himself up on one elbow. "They all talk
Galahad lies on his back, drawing small circles on the sheen of his chest, grinning up at Gawain. "Oh, quite. Details and stories. You've had a prolific and quite mythical sex life, you know."
Galahad turns and pushes Gawain onto the bed, crawling atop him and straddling his hips. "You get more sex than Lancelot according to the girls. And boys."
"I'd have to wonder how I ever manage to get any sleep if I am alleged to have had that number of conquests," says Gawain and he runs his hands up Galahad's stomach and chest.
Galahad laughs as he feels a shiver go down his back. "I'm only disappointed that I'm so rarely involved. It's always roman nobility this, and stable boy that, and tavern wench here, whores there, Lancelot, Tristan, Arthur," Galahad rolls his eyes. "You didn't start any of those rumours, did you?" he questions, arching an eyebrow.
With that, Galahad eased off and pushed out over Gawain's body until he was completely covering him.
"I did no such thing," says Gawain mildly and he wraps his arms around Galahad. A low rumble of contentment sounds in the back of his throat. "So, Galahad-my-love, should we make plans to woo some unsuspecting girl?"
His arms tighten around Galahad as though to ward off the thought of any interloper into their comfortable arrangement but he cannot deny the underlying thrill that comes with such a plan...