Tangible Schizophrenia


Vice Extra: Spirit

Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Lancelot/Guinevere
Feedback: Good lines, bad ones, etc.
Disclaimer: Versions from the movie.
Notes: Film noir AU. Makes little attempt to be really historically accurate, and much effort to both be true to genre tropes and to riff on them. Supernatural stuff.
Summary: A quiet holiday moment.


“Some eggnog,” Lancelot laughed, stumbling over a side-step. He lost his balance and fell against Arthur’s side so he could feel the vibrations of the other man’s gentle laughter against his ribs. A few feet away, Guin was lying on the couch and deep into the bliss of the drunken, cheeks rosy and lips red-bitten from her and Arthur’s extended tongue-sharing session earlier. “She doesn’t usually go down that fast.”

The next time Lancelot skipped a step, Arthur had to grab his waist to set him back upright. And Arthur’s hands stayed there, fingers rippling slightly as Lancelot’s clumsy fingers searched for holds on Arthur’s shoulders, neck, arms. “You did let her make it. I suspect more of the rum went into her than into the eggnog.”

“Compliments of Gawain, and bless him for sharing the good brew.” There was soft tinkling music coming from the radio in the corner, and it had a beat to it, but for the life of him, Lancelot couldn’t figure it out. Every time he tried to match it, he only ended up trampling Arthur’s toes.

Not that Arthur seemed to mind. He winced a few times, but humored Lancelot and slowly spun them around the room, carefully swinging Lancelot out of the way of various pieces of furniture, Guin’s purse, discarded coats and hats…Arthur’s hands slid down an inch from Lancelot’s waist, cutting off what remained of Lancelot’s observational skills. The other man, on the other hand, wasn’t looking anywhere but Lancelot. Occasionally a wondering smile would steal across Arthur’s face, but mostly he simply looked content and satisfied to be partnering an inebriated idiot.

Well, not quite as bad as Bors, Lancelot soothed himself. He resettled his arms around Arthur’s neck and leaned forward to rub his nose past Arthur and peck at Arthur’s upper lip. “It still feels odd, you know. I didn’t—we didn’t celebrate Christmas before.”

“No. If I remember right, I usually spent the evening in prayer, and you usually got drunk and picked a fight with someone.” Regret dragged at the corner of Arthur’s mouth, turning his kiss wry. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Sorry about what? Did you save that apology all these years?” It was meant as a joke, but wasn’t taken that way. Lancelot sighed and looped himself closer to Arthur, restricting their movements so they were doing little more than rocking in place. His hands he let drift downwards, feeling through Arthur’s shirt for the thin scars that criss-crossed the other man’s back.

After a while, Arthur ducked his head and, eyes closed, pressed his forehead to Lancelot’s. “It was a very, very long time for me to do nothing but think,” he said in a thick voice.

“So stop thinking.” Fingers in Arthur’s waistband, Lancelot rumpled out the shirt so he could stroke up beneath the fabric. He pushed till he could slide his cheek past Arthur’s and lick an invitation along Arthur’s neck, which was swiftly taken up.

* * *

Later, when Lancelot was a lazy crumple on the floor beside the couch and Arthur was quiet and calm on top of him, Guin finally woke up. She took one look over the side and sighed, propping up her head with one arm. The other trailed fingers over the sword-scars of Arthur’s back till he grabbed them and kissed their tips.

“He never could think when you were around,” was her comment, which made Lancelot briefly wonder as to just how deeply asleep she’d been. “I heard all about it from Gawain, and Galahad, and hell, even Bors afterward.”

“They remembered me?” Lancelot grinned. “Good boys.”

Guin rolled her eyes. “Pompous jackass.”

“Stop that,” Arthur drowsily ordered. Then it was quiet for a few moments till he lifted his head and stared at the two of them. “My God. I always wondered what you two being quiet would look like.”

“Oh, shut up.” And Lancelot dragged him back down, just to make sure of that.