On Your Knees

Black curls, plastered to his face with dirt and sweat, those dark eyes fringed with lashes a Simerean woman would be proud of. Arthur watches fes fellow knight and friend dismount after returning from his most recent mission.

Lancelot knew him best of all, it was true. Yet still there were some things Arthur had chosen to conceal from his companion.

The sensation that was now brewing within him, for example. They were often away on missions for months at a time, without so much as a glimpse of a woman, and Arthur suspected it had done... strange things to him. As he watched Lancelot splash his face with water from a trough, trading jokes and insults with another of the knights, Arthur felt as if he would like to put his arms around his friend and press his lips to the younger man’s, who was now smiling in welcome to Galahad.

Arthur followed Lancelot as he led his horse into the stables.

“Lancelot,” Arthur began, but suddenly had no idea what to say.

Lancelot looked up from his steed.

“What is it, Arthur?”

The knight’s clear brown eyes fixed on him, suddenly making Arthur feel more apprehensive than he had when facing all the formidable enemies he had encountered.

r>Mor>Moving closer, Lancelot looked at his friend, who was now acting most strangely.

“Lancelot, I...” Arthur looked as uncomfortable as he felt.

Comprehension dawned in the younger knight’s face.

“I know, my Arthur, I know.” He smiled.

Arthur was shocked.

“You do? But I –”

“You forget how well I know you, Arthur. You are like an open book to me.” Lancelot looked at him reproachfully.

“Oh. Of course. Then do you...” Arthur trailed off, embarrassed.

Whispering in his ear, the featherlight warmth of Lancelot’s breath tickled Arthur’s earlobe as the knight spoke.

“Artorius, you know I can’t do that.” A smile glinted in his eyes, teasing Arthur.

“Why not?”

The smile had now reached Lancelot’s lips, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I’ve told you, my Arthur – I dislike anything that puts a man on his knees.”