FIC: Stay With Me - 1/1, King Arthur, PG, Tristan/Galahad
Title: Stay With Me
Author: Jo (jo@fadedink.com)
Fandom: King Arthur
Pairing: Tristan/Galahad
Rating: PG
Word count: 411
Summary: Galahad is confused, but Tristan is just waiting.
Disclaimer: Fiction, folks. But if you believe this really happened, I've got some prime real estate I wanna sell you…
Author's Notes: The 13th Day of Christmas for azewewish who understands the Tristan love.
Each time Tristan and Galahad come together, Galahad is left wondering what has just happened. He can't quite figure out what this thing between them is or what it means. It started months ago on a routine patrol and soon developed into an unvarying pattern.
It always happens late, in the darkest hours of the night after everyone else is asleep. Galahad will wake to Tristan sliding beneath his blanket, easy and silent as always, and the encounter will be hurried and quietly, their panted breaths mingling as they move together until both are spent. And always, always, Tristan is gone before the sun peeks over the horizon.
They never speak of it and Tristan never acts any differently around him. It just is.
But Galahad thinks that Gawain might know because there's something in his eyes when he looks at them. But Gawain also never speaks of it.
So it goes on and time passes and Galahad tries to decipher it each time. He tries to understand why Tristan always comes to him, always initiates things, and then never acknowledges them by word or deed or even slanted look.
He tries to understand why Tristan always leaves before Galahad wakes, why he doesn't stay. It's not that Galahad needs him to stay, but he thinks it would be nice. He thinks on it until it feels as if his brain is tangled into knots.
Until one night when he doesn't fall back to sleep, but lies there still and quiet, his breathing even and slow, until Tristan stirs in the darkness. Warm lips touch his bare shoulder, callused fingertips ghost over his hip, and Galahad reaches out to catch Tristan's wrist as he starts to slip away.
The moon glints off the whites of his eyes and Galahad can feel the weight of that gaze on him. But he holds his tongue and waits and watches as Tristan doesn't move. But then white teeth flash in a seldom seen smile and Tristan slides closer again, strong arm slipping around Galahad's waist as their bodies shift to a more comfortable alignment.
Just like that, Galahad knows that Tristan will still be there when he wakes. He knows that there will be no more clandestine meetings that feel more like a dirty secret than anything else. And he realizes that he thought too much about things instead of relying on his instincts because perhaps Tristan was simply waiting for him to ask.
Author: Jo (jo@fadedink.com)
Fandom: King Arthur
Pairing: Tristan/Galahad
Rating: PG
Word count: 411
Summary: Galahad is confused, but Tristan is just waiting.
Disclaimer: Fiction, folks. But if you believe this really happened, I've got some prime real estate I wanna sell you…
Author's Notes: The 13th Day of Christmas for azewewish who understands the Tristan love.
Each time Tristan and Galahad come together, Galahad is left wondering what has just happened. He can't quite figure out what this thing between them is or what it means. It started months ago on a routine patrol and soon developed into an unvarying pattern.
It always happens late, in the darkest hours of the night after everyone else is asleep. Galahad will wake to Tristan sliding beneath his blanket, easy and silent as always, and the encounter will be hurried and quietly, their panted breaths mingling as they move together until both are spent. And always, always, Tristan is gone before the sun peeks over the horizon.
They never speak of it and Tristan never acts any differently around him. It just is.
But Galahad thinks that Gawain might know because there's something in his eyes when he looks at them. But Gawain also never speaks of it.
So it goes on and time passes and Galahad tries to decipher it each time. He tries to understand why Tristan always comes to him, always initiates things, and then never acknowledges them by word or deed or even slanted look.
He tries to understand why Tristan always leaves before Galahad wakes, why he doesn't stay. It's not that Galahad needs him to stay, but he thinks it would be nice. He thinks on it until it feels as if his brain is tangled into knots.
Until one night when he doesn't fall back to sleep, but lies there still and quiet, his breathing even and slow, until Tristan stirs in the darkness. Warm lips touch his bare shoulder, callused fingertips ghost over his hip, and Galahad reaches out to catch Tristan's wrist as he starts to slip away.
The moon glints off the whites of his eyes and Galahad can feel the weight of that gaze on him. But he holds his tongue and waits and watches as Tristan doesn't move. But then white teeth flash in a seldom seen smile and Tristan slides closer again, strong arm slipping around Galahad's waist as their bodies shift to a more comfortable alignment.
Just like that, Galahad knows that Tristan will still be there when he wakes. He knows that there will be no more clandestine meetings that feel more like a dirty secret than anything else. And he realizes that he thought too much about things instead of relying on his instincts because perhaps Tristan was simply waiting for him to ask.