[closed/complete]
Characters: Percival [keepsaken] & Galahad [galahad]
Date/Time: After this.
Location: Galahad's place.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Knightly fail.
Summary: Percival has decided some stuff, Galahad is clueless... there is knightly...uh. Stuff.
Halfway through his ascent up the set of stairs before Galahad's door, Percival stopped. He stopped for a couple of reasons. Over the last several months, he'd been so concerned about doing what he felt was right, that now he wasn't entirely sure what was right anymore. His overall awareness of God now contradicted everything in his heart, and the prospect of making a mistake and messing everything up royally.
With him and God. With him and Galahad. Maybe with himself as well.
His hand tightened around the railing, but his steps felt sluggish up the remaining stairs, like they wanted to hold him back.
Galahad was dressed impeccably for church- as he always did- the white shirt, tie and suit all neatly pressed and smoothed out. His hair was brushed back, carefully kept in place. In fact, as Percival was making his way up the stairs, Galahad was finishing buttoning up his white shirt, and slidding a tie around his neck.
Currently his mind was running on blank. Words from his mother and father haunted him (as did their actions, love, in their cases seem to lead down weird and rather sinful paths).
Could you love someone more than God and not let that become a sin? He didn't know.
And if he didn't know, Percival didn't either. His knuckles were weak against the door as he thought on it, his mind a flurry of conflicting hopes. Was this the right thing? Was he about to screw everything up?
There was always that possibility. It was never with intention, though, but in God's eyes, he knew this was so selfish. So against what He deemed to be right and wrong.
But something had to be said, or it would eat him alive from the inside.
Galahad was in for a surprise, maybe he hoped that Percival was here to tell him that all would be okay and they could be friends. That there was nothing to worry about- but Galahad also knew better, and of the two, he was the leader. So to speak. At least the one with the unshakable faith that kept him going despite everything else.
Not healthy.
Leaving the collar of his shirt up, tie lose on either side - Galahad went to answer the door. He took a deep breath and opened it, unsure on what to expect besides that it was Percival, and seeing the other always made him happy.
The sight of Galahad in church wear didn't surprise him. But maybe a part of Percival had expected him to already be dressed. Somehow it felt like he was interrupting something, stupid as a thought that was, but he did put on a smile.
"Morning. Sorry I caught you in the middle of getting dressed."
All thoughts of wanting to rip that tie away were squashed.
"Oh, don't worry." Galahad stood aside and waved him in, "There is time." And he was someone who didn't rush some things, he kept a steady pace. Sometimes slow and steady was better, other times- no., Galahad tried to sooth the trecherous beat of his heart with an indifferent look at the door, shutting it behind Percival.
His place was kept as usual, neat and modest. It was mostly made of dull colours and bare walls. A few things which he had from being Hayden had been stored away, others remained.
Even though the place wasn't the most exciting of places, it was still a comfort. There was familiarity to it, and it was why Percival strode in without taking those initial glances around, as if he already knew where everything was. Everything except where exactly he stood.
Back toward the other man, he started, a couple of paces away from the door. "Then I'm gonna say something. It might not make a lot of sense, but I have to say it." This time, he turned, eyes seeking out Galahad's.
Galahad was unsuspecting, he smiled at Percival and nodded. Maybe the whole love business was behind them, and there was nothing to worry about. Yes, that had to be it. He met Percival's eyes with an attentive look, his hands moving to fold the collar of his shirt while he heard the other out.
His mind was on something else, like whether or not they were here to go to church together.
But that certainly wasn't where Percival's mind was. Might as well have been on an entirely different planet. He shifted in place, taking a second to gather his words together.
"You and I have been on this rollercoaster for months. I can never tell when it's gonna go up or down -- I don't even know if this is up or down or... inbetween, and I'm tired of not knowing where we stand, Galahad." Barely any time was spent for a breath. "I don't know how to just be friends with you. I think about the possibility of us having nothing but friendship between us, and it's great until I realize I want more than that."
A man much less brave might've glanced away at this point, but he held Galahad's gaze firmly, unrelenting.
Galahad had been slowly folding his tie when the barage of words began, and as their meaning sank in, the tie was forgotten. Oh, dear Lord. It had not ended as he'd hoped (but deep down he rejoiced). The thing was, Galahad felt the same way, and yet he couldn't. He wouldn't. It was simply wrong.
However, Percival held his gaze, and Galahad did too. He would do no less for Percival, but he also had been stunned into silence by the announcement. More than friendship.
The words vocalized how Galahad himself felt too.
And so the other knight carried on, wanting to get everything out there into the open. "I know what we once were, what we stood for. You've always been a better man than me, Galahad -- always stronger, always more pure. And I looked up to you then, like I do now. I saw this strength in you that no one else had, and I would've followed you until the end, you know that."
Maybe it wasn't right to do so, but Percival took those steps forward anyway. "So that's what makes this so hard. We're not... This can't happen. But if it doesn't, wanting you so badly is going to ruin me."
Galahad froze, he didn't look afraid or overly shocked at the words, but simply held himself still. He'd always loved Percival the most out of all around him, however, he had never thought of his love as impure. (Perhaps it had always been). Whereas he could never let go, Percival was far more laid back.
A nod.
Yeah, Galahad did know all this. It was a lose/lose situation for Percival, to give in and sin or to be ruined by not having. A familiar ache crossed his chest, and he wanted to tell Percival he deserved better.
Maybe that was true. Maybe he did deserve better.
But Percy didn't want better.
"If this was simple and just about you and me, it'd be so much easier. But it's not. How can I even dare to ask Him for forgiveness when you're on my mind? What's the point in wanting to repent when I know I'll want to do it again?" He stood about a foot away now.
"How can I stand here and not think about kissing you, Galahad?"
Whatever strength that had been in his voice was fading.
Galahad clenched his hands, colour draining from his already pale features. He wanted to tell Percival to stop, because all those words were the same struggle he found himself against every single day.
"Did you feel this way too? Back then."
His voice took him by surprise, and the question haunted him. Had they been sinning unknowingly since their quest? When they rejoiced at meeting once again, and embraced.
Nothing changed on Percival's face at the inquiry. Because he'd already considered it. The possibility of him already being damned had certainly occurred to him over and over. A proper man of God was not supposed to think 'I've already sinned, what's the problem if I keep going?'
And yet he had.
The other man's gaze was still held as resolutely as before. "Back then, I didn't hold anyone above God. I knew what had to be done. But I respected you more than anyone, and if I had been any less loyal to Him, I might've told you I--"
Loved you.
Galahad didn't recoil, though he considered that a possibility. He lifted his hand to brush the edge of the tie. So if he hadn't loved him back then, what had changed now? That was something Galahad could not understand, no matter how many times he thought about it.
It was difficult to find a road that was 'right' when everywhere seemed to lead down a path of sin. Should he talk to the archangels?
To Percival, it made the slightest bit of sense. As Wesley, he'd been raised in a religious household, but it hadn't been forced on him. God was a certainty, though he was definitely not as pious growing up. Only since discovering himself had he realized just how much he should've paid attention.
He easily recovered from cutting himself off and ran both hands through his hair. "Say something, Galahad. Or I might say something I'll never be able to take back."
Galahad was silent, he just stared at Percival, he couldn't say anything. Whatever he said would be wrong in some way, silence was the best way to go about it. Besides, a large part of him wanted to hear those words, those Percival could never take back.
Not a sigh, not a blink, rigidly was the way Galahad held himself. He thought of Mordred and wondered why he had not asked the man for an opinion on this matters.
Well, it didn't matter now.
This was the part where Percival might have sworn if he ever cursed. Those words itched at the back of his throat, begging to be spoken, but he couldn't, wouldn't -- it would make things too real, would mess everything up and set them down a path they couldn't veer off. But had they always been destined to go down the path? Was it inevitable that they'd end up somewhere at the end of a wrong turn?
Fight it. You have to fight it.
The thought barely finished itself before the taller knight was closing in, fingers closing around Galahad's tie. His other came up to rest on his friend's cheek while he pushed the man right up into the door. But not unkindly.
"God forgive me," he whispered just before leaning in to steal a much-needed kiss.
The knight went limp against the taller man, resting his weight between the door and him. There was no fought to fight it, Galahad simply found himself pliant and willing to the other's kiss.
Yeah, he was certainly damned now.
Whatever self-restraint Percival possessed had shattered to pieces, and relieved that he hadn't been pushed away, he allowed his hand to slide away from that tie, brushing the other's shirt briefly before settling on a hip.
Wrong, so wrong. God was supposed to be more important, to be held beneath no one as an inferior. But how could he explain this? How could he explain how perfect it was to be precisely where he stood? He'd already made his choice. But he couldn't think it, couldn't say it. While he understood where exactly he placed Galahad, it was a thought that couldn't come into being.
This was what sinning felt like.
Date/Time: After this.
Location: Galahad's place.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Knightly fail.
Summary: Percival has decided some stuff, Galahad is clueless... there is knightly...uh. Stuff.
Halfway through his ascent up the set of stairs before Galahad's door, Percival stopped. He stopped for a couple of reasons. Over the last several months, he'd been so concerned about doing what he felt was right, that now he wasn't entirely sure what was right anymore. His overall awareness of God now contradicted everything in his heart, and the prospect of making a mistake and messing everything up royally.
With him and God. With him and Galahad. Maybe with himself as well.
His hand tightened around the railing, but his steps felt sluggish up the remaining stairs, like they wanted to hold him back.
Galahad was dressed impeccably for church- as he always did- the white shirt, tie and suit all neatly pressed and smoothed out. His hair was brushed back, carefully kept in place. In fact, as Percival was making his way up the stairs, Galahad was finishing buttoning up his white shirt, and slidding a tie around his neck.
Currently his mind was running on blank. Words from his mother and father haunted him (as did their actions, love, in their cases seem to lead down weird and rather sinful paths).
Could you love someone more than God and not let that become a sin? He didn't know.
And if he didn't know, Percival didn't either. His knuckles were weak against the door as he thought on it, his mind a flurry of conflicting hopes. Was this the right thing? Was he about to screw everything up?
There was always that possibility. It was never with intention, though, but in God's eyes, he knew this was so selfish. So against what He deemed to be right and wrong.
But something had to be said, or it would eat him alive from the inside.
Galahad was in for a surprise, maybe he hoped that Percival was here to tell him that all would be okay and they could be friends. That there was nothing to worry about- but Galahad also knew better, and of the two, he was the leader. So to speak. At least the one with the unshakable faith that kept him going despite everything else.
Not healthy.
Leaving the collar of his shirt up, tie lose on either side - Galahad went to answer the door. He took a deep breath and opened it, unsure on what to expect besides that it was Percival, and seeing the other always made him happy.
The sight of Galahad in church wear didn't surprise him. But maybe a part of Percival had expected him to already be dressed. Somehow it felt like he was interrupting something, stupid as a thought that was, but he did put on a smile.
"Morning. Sorry I caught you in the middle of getting dressed."
All thoughts of wanting to rip that tie away were squashed.
"Oh, don't worry." Galahad stood aside and waved him in, "There is time." And he was someone who didn't rush some things, he kept a steady pace. Sometimes slow and steady was better, other times- no., Galahad tried to sooth the trecherous beat of his heart with an indifferent look at the door, shutting it behind Percival.
His place was kept as usual, neat and modest. It was mostly made of dull colours and bare walls. A few things which he had from being Hayden had been stored away, others remained.
Even though the place wasn't the most exciting of places, it was still a comfort. There was familiarity to it, and it was why Percival strode in without taking those initial glances around, as if he already knew where everything was. Everything except where exactly he stood.
Back toward the other man, he started, a couple of paces away from the door. "Then I'm gonna say something. It might not make a lot of sense, but I have to say it." This time, he turned, eyes seeking out Galahad's.
Galahad was unsuspecting, he smiled at Percival and nodded. Maybe the whole love business was behind them, and there was nothing to worry about. Yes, that had to be it. He met Percival's eyes with an attentive look, his hands moving to fold the collar of his shirt while he heard the other out.
His mind was on something else, like whether or not they were here to go to church together.
But that certainly wasn't where Percival's mind was. Might as well have been on an entirely different planet. He shifted in place, taking a second to gather his words together.
"You and I have been on this rollercoaster for months. I can never tell when it's gonna go up or down -- I don't even know if this is up or down or... inbetween, and I'm tired of not knowing where we stand, Galahad." Barely any time was spent for a breath. "I don't know how to just be friends with you. I think about the possibility of us having nothing but friendship between us, and it's great until I realize I want more than that."
A man much less brave might've glanced away at this point, but he held Galahad's gaze firmly, unrelenting.
Galahad had been slowly folding his tie when the barage of words began, and as their meaning sank in, the tie was forgotten. Oh, dear Lord. It had not ended as he'd hoped (but deep down he rejoiced). The thing was, Galahad felt the same way, and yet he couldn't. He wouldn't. It was simply wrong.
However, Percival held his gaze, and Galahad did too. He would do no less for Percival, but he also had been stunned into silence by the announcement. More than friendship.
The words vocalized how Galahad himself felt too.
And so the other knight carried on, wanting to get everything out there into the open. "I know what we once were, what we stood for. You've always been a better man than me, Galahad -- always stronger, always more pure. And I looked up to you then, like I do now. I saw this strength in you that no one else had, and I would've followed you until the end, you know that."
Maybe it wasn't right to do so, but Percival took those steps forward anyway. "So that's what makes this so hard. We're not... This can't happen. But if it doesn't, wanting you so badly is going to ruin me."
Galahad froze, he didn't look afraid or overly shocked at the words, but simply held himself still. He'd always loved Percival the most out of all around him, however, he had never thought of his love as impure. (Perhaps it had always been). Whereas he could never let go, Percival was far more laid back.
A nod.
Yeah, Galahad did know all this. It was a lose/lose situation for Percival, to give in and sin or to be ruined by not having. A familiar ache crossed his chest, and he wanted to tell Percival he deserved better.
Maybe that was true. Maybe he did deserve better.
But Percy didn't want better.
"If this was simple and just about you and me, it'd be so much easier. But it's not. How can I even dare to ask Him for forgiveness when you're on my mind? What's the point in wanting to repent when I know I'll want to do it again?" He stood about a foot away now.
"How can I stand here and not think about kissing you, Galahad?"
Whatever strength that had been in his voice was fading.
Galahad clenched his hands, colour draining from his already pale features. He wanted to tell Percival to stop, because all those words were the same struggle he found himself against every single day.
"Did you feel this way too? Back then."
His voice took him by surprise, and the question haunted him. Had they been sinning unknowingly since their quest? When they rejoiced at meeting once again, and embraced.
Nothing changed on Percival's face at the inquiry. Because he'd already considered it. The possibility of him already being damned had certainly occurred to him over and over. A proper man of God was not supposed to think 'I've already sinned, what's the problem if I keep going?'
And yet he had.
The other man's gaze was still held as resolutely as before. "Back then, I didn't hold anyone above God. I knew what had to be done. But I respected you more than anyone, and if I had been any less loyal to Him, I might've told you I--"
Loved you.
Galahad didn't recoil, though he considered that a possibility. He lifted his hand to brush the edge of the tie. So if he hadn't loved him back then, what had changed now? That was something Galahad could not understand, no matter how many times he thought about it.
It was difficult to find a road that was 'right' when everywhere seemed to lead down a path of sin. Should he talk to the archangels?
To Percival, it made the slightest bit of sense. As Wesley, he'd been raised in a religious household, but it hadn't been forced on him. God was a certainty, though he was definitely not as pious growing up. Only since discovering himself had he realized just how much he should've paid attention.
He easily recovered from cutting himself off and ran both hands through his hair. "Say something, Galahad. Or I might say something I'll never be able to take back."
Galahad was silent, he just stared at Percival, he couldn't say anything. Whatever he said would be wrong in some way, silence was the best way to go about it. Besides, a large part of him wanted to hear those words, those Percival could never take back.
Not a sigh, not a blink, rigidly was the way Galahad held himself. He thought of Mordred and wondered why he had not asked the man for an opinion on this matters.
Well, it didn't matter now.
This was the part where Percival might have sworn if he ever cursed. Those words itched at the back of his throat, begging to be spoken, but he couldn't, wouldn't -- it would make things too real, would mess everything up and set them down a path they couldn't veer off. But had they always been destined to go down the path? Was it inevitable that they'd end up somewhere at the end of a wrong turn?
Fight it. You have to fight it.
The thought barely finished itself before the taller knight was closing in, fingers closing around Galahad's tie. His other came up to rest on his friend's cheek while he pushed the man right up into the door. But not unkindly.
"God forgive me," he whispered just before leaning in to steal a much-needed kiss.
The knight went limp against the taller man, resting his weight between the door and him. There was no fought to fight it, Galahad simply found himself pliant and willing to the other's kiss.
Yeah, he was certainly damned now.
Whatever self-restraint Percival possessed had shattered to pieces, and relieved that he hadn't been pushed away, he allowed his hand to slide away from that tie, brushing the other's shirt briefly before settling on a hip.
Wrong, so wrong. God was supposed to be more important, to be held beneath no one as an inferior. But how could he explain this? How could he explain how perfect it was to be precisely where he stood? He'd already made his choice. But he couldn't think it, couldn't say it. While he understood where exactly he placed Galahad, it was a thought that couldn't come into being.
This was what sinning felt like.