Tangible Schizophrenia


Falling Weather-glass

Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: R
Pairing: Arthur/Lancelot
Feedback: Good lines, bad ones, etc.
Disclaimer: Ideas originated with the movie, not me.
Summary: The storm isn’t quite here yet, but Arthur can feel the pressure building behind him.


Arthur stuffed his wrist further into his mouth. His canine snagged on the bony point of it and he hurriedly wrenched his hand around so the teeth would slide around, but right then, the demanding mouth sucking on his prick completely snapped his concentration. He distantly registered pain as the tooth rocked slightly in its socket.

Lancelot’s lips slipped partially off as he swallowed, letting out a soft, wet popping noise that made Arthur hiss against his wrist. He grabbed at Arthur’s right knee and almost collapsed it, then switched to pulling himself up with the desk edge, pushing them both back into the chair. The swell of his cock pressed insistently up the inside of Arthur’s leg, drawing Arthur’s hand, still carrying drops of spit on the back, down to it. He asked by shoving his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck and groaning, so low Arthur could feel his bones vibrating with it. He hadn’t even needed to do that much.

Afterward, he surprised Arthur by lingering, staying curved over Arthur almost as if he were a child being rocked to sleep. Usually when he attacked Arthur at work, he seemed to enjoy Arthur’s post-coital embarrassment even more than the actual sex, but right now he wasn’t even pushing.

“MI6 is trying to have Clayton deported to them,” he finally said. “I think Pellew’s going to win and keep him here for the trials, but he keeps asking me about you. Obliquely, because God forbid Pellew blatantly pry, but still…”

“I know.” It was interesting that Pellew would side that way, considering his background in that agency. And he lived a much more high-profile life than Arthur did…that was one option. There were others, but Arthur liked this life. So much more than he’d expected, so that he found himself balking again and again at having to commit himself to starting a new one.

Lancelot propped his chin on Arthur’s shoulder, looking sharply at Arthur. His fingers tightened in Arthur’s clothes. “Whatever you do, I’ll follow.” He caught himself after the rush of words, a little taken aback at himself. Then he smiled crookedly. “So don’t do anything stupid. Or you’ll never hear the end of it, I swear.”

“I know,” Arthur said. He threaded his fingers through Lancelot’s hair and pulled him up for a kiss. Not yet. He could play the waiting game a little longer, see what the other side would do. But he didn’t have to make choices. Not yet.

I know,” Lancelot murmured into Arthur’s mouth. He pressed his palm over Arthur’s breastbone. He sounded savage and determined. “I know, believe me.”

Arthur did.