#i have too much power with shortfics haha | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cillyscribbles · 2 months

Link

“Have this dream sometimes. On good occasion,” Lancelot said, behind him, and when Arthur turned to him from the table, he was splayed out on their fur carpet as though he were a boy. His eyes rolled upward, fixed on the ceiling. Shifted slowly back and forth like he was chasing after the dim candlelight moving down the wall, tilting his head from side to side, a little like a snake. “An’ it’s, y’know, I reckon there somethin’ to it.”

“Yeah?” Arthur said, idling, watching him blink away the haze drawn over his eyes. Thought or exhaustion, who was to say.

“Yeah.” Lancelot sighed and spread his arms out to the sides, tilted his head like a man crucified. Watched Arthur right back a quiet moment through the slit of his half-lidded eyes. “I’m dyin’, y’know, with a hole in my heart. Or in my neck, or my head, whichever way some part of me’s bleedin’ and tain’t nothin’ to be done about it. I’m just dyin’.”

“Been there,” Arthur said, trying for someplace between passive interest and compassion. He wasn’t certain if his relation was to the nightmare or the bleeding – he and Lancelot had done plenty of both in their years.

Lancelot laughed. One short bark, torn from his vocal cords as though the sound had been stuck to them.

“Tain’t a nightmare though,” he said, his voice hoarse and caught in his throat. “It don’ feel like one, anyhow. You’re there, you know – an’ I’m bleedin’ out, head on your chest, maybe on your shoulder. Can feel your heart beatin’ most times. Feels like I’m floatin’. Halfway to sleep.” He must’ve read the scepticism out from Arthur’s expression, because he smiled widely and lifted himself on his arms, shifting closer to the chair where Arthur was sitting. The gun was still laid out in pieces on Arthur’s lap, clean and waiting to be put back together, but Lancelot paid it little attention, resting one arm on the edge of the seat as he grinned up at Arthur. “But I can taste blood in my mouth, yeah. An’ tain’t mine and ain’t yours neither, but it’s someone’s blood aright, so I reckon at least I did somethin’ right fore I got my ass shot. I don’t know how I know, but I do know it.”

His smile was crooked and toothy. One corner of his lips drooped; it tended to. Arthur thought there was a speck of blood between his teeth, but the image dissipated with one swipe of Lancelot’s tongue. Arthur shook his head, just lightly, and made to turn away, to return to his reassembly instead of falling victim to the swirl of consideration in Lancelot’s eye.

But Lancelot reached up a hand and caught him by the side of the jaw. His fingers slid down to Arthur’s chin and angled him back down, forced him to meet his gaze. And Arthur, who until now had considered himself a man of steel will, bowed his head with Lancelot’s touch.

“An’ I find masel’ thinkin’, while I breathe out my last,” he said, low – and Arthur humoured him, stayed still, watched his eyes glimmer in the dim light – “that I really don’ mind dyin’. Not like that, anyhow. So long as I got your breath on my face. Your hand. So long as it feels like I chewed someone up for you and spat ‘em out, and you’re here cause of it.” His fingertips traced a line down from Arthur’s chin to the rise of his throat. Rested there a moment as Lancelot turned his eyes away as though shy of his words, even though the shine of his smile cast doubt on that. “Tain’t a nightmare. Reckon I just dream of it.”

A moment, and his hand dropped – but Arthur reached out and caught it halfway, fingers wrapped around Lancelot’s bare wrist. Lancelot glanced back up, fixed his eyes on Arthur’s, and his smile widened.

“Don’t say shit like that to me,” Arthur said quietly, and Lancelot laughed again as he pulled his hand from Arthur’s grasp.

“Well, who’ll I say it to then? Gwen?” he offered, shaking his head already as though the very idea was ludicrous. Arthur leaned back against the backrest, swallowed the sigh behind his teeth. “She’ll sock me in the face.”

“I’ll sock you in the face.” There was little heat behind the words and Lancelot was calling him out on it with eyes alone, though for a moment it seemed as though that was just where he’d leave it. Then he leaned forward again and crowded Arthur against the backrest of the chair as he lifted his crossed arms to rest just atop Arthur’s thighs.

“You won’t.”

“I will, too,” Arthur said, half in dismissal, but when he went to nudge Lancelot off the chair, he moved his boot to Lancelot’s chest with a gentleness rarely afforded to any. Lancelot followed the line Arthur set, sitting back on the floor and bracing his arms behind himself – but with the way he threw his head back, the way he bared his teeth in a grin, it seemed Arthur had lost whatever game he’d set out to play.

“You won’t,” Lancelot said, and Arthur looked up to him to find him waiting. Clearly; Arthur knew it by the cut of his expression and the challenge in his eye. “Cause you know I’d like it.”

And let it not be said that Arthur was a sore loser, even if he was unaware of the game; he put his gun back together slowly, piece by careful wiped-down piece. Lifted it onto table along with the handkerchief he’d had laid out over his legs. Guinevere’s. They left some part of themselves behind when they left town without one another. Just in case.

He didn’t mind letting the time to reunion pass quicker.

He stood up and felt Lancelot’s eyes trailing after his steps, following down the shape of him when he came to kneel at his side. His head was tilted to look at Arthur, narrow-eyed and self-satisfied, his throat bobbing along with his breath.

Arthur fitted his hand there, slid it forward to cup the back of Lancelot’s head, tangled his fingers in his hair, and said, “Fuck you.”

He took Lancelot’s laughter into his mouth, quiet even in the small space of the room. When Lancelot drew back from him, he closed his eyes and waited for his inevitable scolding; but Lancelot met him instead with a kiss to the corner of his lips, his cheek and his temple, taking Arthur’s other hand and pulling him closer.

“Well,” he said, pleasantly and a little like they were about to discuss the weather, “Go on, then.”

#fck it *puts the whole fic on tumblr*#if you enjoy this i have 3 more on my ao3 ;;#high noon over camelot #the mechanisms #the mechs #hnoc #my fic stuff #i have too much power with shortfics haha

11 notes · View notes