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 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.