Sick Ward

[songs_of_war]

Lancelot kept his eyes closed, lost in his memories - hands: cold hands, rough hands, unyeilding, uncaring; and pain: so much pain he could barely keep from begging - silent tears still leaving slowly from under his eyelids. Lost in shadows - he couldn't seem to find any light. He'd given up trying to keep them away. Futile - he hadn't been able to

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[artoriuscastus]

Arthur strode from the tavern, guilt and anger battling out for a place in his mind.

I should have found Tristan myself. God. I should have known Lancelot would have been looking for me. And now... he took on a responsibility I should have been in charge of. He'll have scars on his body for the rest of his life...and who knows how it will affect his mind?

He saw Galahad leaving the surgeon's office with his arm bound tightly to his chest, and smiled grimly. The young knight must have been in enough pain to follow Arthur's directive...or maybe he decided to do it despite Arthur's directive.

He pushed open the door to the infirmary, and walked to Lancelot's bed, his boots ringing on the stone floor.

[songs_of_war]

Distantly, he heard the ringing of books on stone but he didn't pay much attention to it. Too lost in the shadows, the sound just reminded him of other boots - heeled boots, in his stomach, leg, arm and he, helpless to stop the blows from falling.

And the infirmary was so cold. None of the warmth that even his own bedroom afforded. None of the comforts. Nothing but a hard cot and stone walls.

And the cold, damp darkness.

[artoriuscastus]

The surgeon stopped Arthur as he was approaching Lancelot.

"commander...there isn't much else I can do for him here. He seems to be all right, and we have more injured coming in."

Arthur scowled at the man, and the doctor backed away without meaning to.

"If you say he is ready to be moved back to his quarters, then I will ask him if that is what he wishes. But if he doesn't, then we will keep him here as long as he wants." That tone brooked no arguement.

The doctor nodded, and waited.

Arthur made his way to Lancelot's cot, and kept his anger in check. confusing, complicated, infernally annoying man. Why do you give me your heart like this? I do not deserve it.

"Lancelot," he said, not sure if the other man was awake or asleep, as his eyes were closed. Arthur touched his arm...the man was cold.

[songs_of_war]

A small sliver of warmth invaded the place where he was in his mind, and Arthur's voice, calling his name. But it sounded so far away. And so unreal. He wanted to let his mind drift back...but too much pain. Too much darkness. And too cold.

[artoriuscastus]

Stunned into silence, Arthur could only stare at the man, the blush creeping up Lancelot's face telling Arthur the truth of his words.

Surely he can't mean...we *all* love each other...but he's blushing- oh my god.

"But...you do? Why?" he stuttered, his wordiness abandoning him.

[songs_of_war]

Lancelot blinked rapidly, trying to calm the blush that was heating up his whole face.

Dammit. There goes barmaid syndrome again.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, hide - and a couple of other things that he couldn't do at the same time - let alone in the state he's in.

"Yes, dammit, Arthur. If you didn't know that you must be blind and stupid." He finally give into one of his urges and hid his face in his hands, words coming out muffled but still clear. "And fuck it if I know why. I just do."

He closed his eyes tight shut, trying not to think too much about the implications - about what might happen because of the confession he'd just made - not wanting to see Arthur turn away from him.

[artoriuscastus]

my God.

He rose, and sat on the bed.

All the things Lancelot had ever done, ever offered, ever put up with came racing into Arthur's mind...and he shut his eyes in embarassment.

How could he not have known? obtuse fool.

He peeled Lancelot's hands away from the other man's face gently.

"I am blind and stupid, friend. And I am overwhelmed," he whispered.

"I should have known."

He shook his head, still horrified at his blindness.

"...I do believe I would be lost without you in my life," he told the other man, raising his hand to Lancelot's hot cheek.

"And I love you, as well," he added, in a tiny little voice that sounded nothing like him- but he knew it to be true the second it came out.

[songs_of_war]

Even though Arthur had peeled his hands from his face, Lancelot kept his eyes resolutely shut, listening to Arthur's words.

And I love you, as well..

And his eyes flew open, locking with Arthur's.

"Really?" slipped out in a small voice, sounding a little childish - disbelieving.

But it was there - there in Arthur's eyes. And Lancelot grinned.

"Then shut up and kiss me already."

[artoriuscastus]

"What's wrong?"
Arthur lifted his mouth off the other man at the "oh fuck" that came out of Lancelot's lips.

He grinned, realizing it was a good "oh fuck".

He ran his tongue down the underside of the other man's cock, then swallowed him again, his own body straining painfully at his trousers.

[songs_of_war]

Lancelot was breathing hard, fighting to hang on just a bit longer. Arthur was so damn good at this and, when Arthur lifted his head to ask him what was wrong, Lancelot seriously considered smacking him. But then his lips were back and all coherent though - except Arthur's name - fled his mind. His hands clutched convulsively at the sheets as he came, still moaning Arthur's name.

[artoriuscastus]

Arthur pulled away, his heart racing, and took a gulp of the wine goblet that had been left by the side of the bed- he vaguely remembered the surgeon's assistants leaving food and drink.

He crawled back over the other man, laying on his side, facing him, his body doing a dance inside his clothing.

"Was that satisfactory, I take it?" he teased, his voice hoarse. He kissed the underside of Lancelot's jaw, then his mouth softly.

[songs_of_war]

"Hmmm..." Lancelot mumbled, curling closer to Arthur's warmth, resting his head on Arthur's chest, listening to his heart's steady beat. "Indeed. But," not moving, he looked up coyly through his lashes, "only satisfactory. You're most welcome to try again. Later."

His body was still boneless, singing like a recently played instrument and, he supposed, he was one. And played rather well, his mind was supplying. And the thought made his lips curl up into a smile against Arthur's skin.

[artoriuscastus]

"I would not, of course not," Arthur answered, sitting down on the bed, his right leg folded under him. "But that isn't the same...Lancelot, you're not in command. If you asked me to do something, I would do it out of friendship and loyalty to you- and besides, you don't ask me for anything, ever."

He sighed, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity. He raked a hand through his unruly hair, making it stand up.

"It is different," he added petulantly, his lower lip slightly stuck out.

dammit, how do I answer that?

[songs_of_war]

"That's the kind of thing Galahad would say," he teased, running feather-light fingers over the pouting lips. "And I don't see how it's different. I do it out of loyalty, and friendship - and love - to you. It's not a question of me ever asking, Arthur." He leaned in closer savouring the warmth, nuzzling against him.

[artoriuscastus]

"Wait," Arthur said, not ready to give up on his pout just yet. "What is it a question of, then? Do you not want for anything? Do you not need someone's help sometimes?"

He crossed his arms, cocking one eyebrow.

"Galahad?" he humphed.

[songs_of_war]

Lancelot rolled his eyes, and did the only thing he could think of to get that pout off Arthur's face - he kissed him.

"Yes, Galahad," Lancelot laughed as he parted from a dazed looking Arthur. "I've wanted things, I've needed help - but you've always been there, Arthur. Always. That's not what I'm asking. I want you to forgive yourself because it hurts to see you shoulder the guilt for my choices."