Denial II, Chapter 9: Christ's Own Country
Title: Denial II, Chapter 9: Christ's Own Country
Author: wastingyourgum
Characters/Pairings: Much, Little John/Legrand, Allan
Rating:PG-13
Genre: Drama, Romance, Slash
Words: 1715
Warnings: Slash
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender; takes place after 2x13 but prior to 3x01; Introduction and previous chapter links for DII are here...
Summary: As the gang gather for a last meal together at Bassam's, John tries to clear the air with Legrand...
>>-------------------->
Chapter 9: Christ's Own Country
Much was slightly disoriented, waking up in John's bed at Bassam's rather than in his tent. It took him several minutes to get his bearings; the hangover didn't help either. He felt slightly guilty for forcing John to find somewhere else to sleep but John waved him off and said not to mention it. For once, Much was happy to do as he was told.
Will and Djaq had stayed at Bassam's all week and when Allan was moved from the healer's, John had come with him. He said it was to help look after Allan and allow the newly-weds more time to themselves but Much knew John felt out of place at the King's camp. Much, Carter, Legrand and Robin had spent many hours in council with the King and their fellow knights - meetings from which John was excluded.
Now, it was the evening before the four noblemen and John were due to leave and start their long journey to Poitiers. Bassam had invited them all to dine at his house so the gang could be together one last time before they separated the next morning. They had arranged to stagger their arrivals at Bassam's throughout the day and then leave quietly before dawn the next morning.
Much's early arrival fortunately fitted their plans. He had insisted on being first there because he wanted to help prepare the food. As a knight he would never have to do any cooking of his own any more but he found he already missed it. His newly learnt Arabic had come in very handy for swapping recipes with Bassam's cook. He couldn't help wondering how Robin would fare with only John to make his meals and look after him.
Much gave the stew one last taste then he covered the pot and left it to simmer before heading to Allan's room.
John glanced round as Much entered the room. "Hello, Much." He was gently dabbing at Allan's forehead and chest with a dampened cloth.
"How is he?" Much asked.
"Still asleep and still feverish - but his breathing and his heartbeat are strong. Djaq truly is a miracle worker."
"From what Legrand told me of his wounds, he can testify to that." Much smiled.
John just nodded.
"Um, you and Legrand seem to have grown quite close..." Much ventured hesitantly.
"He's a good man. We've become friends."
"Just friends?"
John stopped bathing Allan and turned to look at Much with a scowl. "Yes. Just friends."
Much backed off. "No, fine, I was just asking. You seemed very concerned when he took so long to recover at the poles."
"I would have been concerned for any of you," John said evenly. He returned his attention to Allan.
"Right. Yes. Well...Dinner will be ready shortly. I'll get one of the others to come watch Allan for a bit so you can eat."
Much backed out of the room. He wasn't looking where he was going and collided with what he thought was the wall. When he turned he found it was actually Legrand's imposing figure. "Oh, Legrand - I didn't see you there. Sorry." Did he hear what I said to John? "Are you coming for dinner?"
"I am always ready to eat - much like your yourself, mon ami." Legrand smiled down at him.
Much grinned back at him, greatly relieved. No, he can't have done... "Well, you can help me serve and that way if you and I happen to get slightly larger portions, who's to know?"
"I'm sure there will be plenty for everyone, Sir Much." Legrand made a point of emphasising the title and Much smiled as he left.
An awkward silence descended as Much's footsteps faded away into the distance.
"I had thought of all people you might feel able to say something to that one," Legrand finally said.
"There's nothing to say to any of them," John replied, without turning round.
"You know he and Carter--"
"And there's nothing I need to hear about anybody else," John cut him off sharply.
"Why are you angry with me, John? Did I do something wrong?" Legrand asked.
We both did - about as wrong as you can get... John's memory flew back to the hold of the boat, that fateful night shortly before they landed in Acre...
The whole world was asleep.
Only the faintest of glows came from the oil lamp above them, barely enough to see by. The only sounds were the gentle lapping of waves against the hull and the soft creaking of the ship's timbers. No other sounds...except the pounding of John's heart he was sure the whole ship must be able to hear, and Legrand's breath - hot and ragged against the side of John's neck.
Legrand stood behind John, his warm hand inching steadily downwards inside the waistband of John's breeches, sliding softly across John's hip like the serpent of Eden promising the pleasures of forbidden fruit.
And John was hungry - it had been too long since he'd tasted it.
That strange day in Sherwood still seemed like a dream - muddled, confusing, memories of Alice and imaginings of Eleanor mixed up in the reality of Legrand making him feel more alive than he'd felt in years.
Like he was doing now.
Neither of them spoke. John closed his eyes and a small moan escaped his lips as Legrand's fingers curled around him with just the right - and at the same time, so very wrong - amount of pressure. He kept telling himself it didn't mean anything. Legrand wasn't doing anything to him he couldn't do himself - he was just doing it differently, slower, better...
"John - did I do something wrong?" Legrand asked again.
John forced himself not to look round. "No, nothing." And everything... You made me think about you in ways I definitely shouldn't...
Legrand put his hand on John's shoulder, but John flinched at the touch so he withdrew it again. "John... What happened on the boat--"
"I had to find some way to prove to you I trust you. That was all."
"And you did - but that and what happened after that was of your choosing as well as mine."
John decided he had to stop this now, before it went any further. He sighed as he put down the bowl and cloth, stood up and turned to face Legrand. "I'm not like you, Legrand."
"No, you're not." Legrand smiled. "And I thank God for it."
"God?" John exclaimed. "How can you talk about God after...what we did?"
"What did we do, John?" Legrand shrugged. "We took comfort in each other's touch - that's all. Many men here do the same regularly and then go happily home to their wives and children."
"Yes, but you're not married, are you?"
"No." Legrand shook his head. "And, believe it or not, this is not something I do regularly. I suppose because it means more to me than others." He stepped closer to John. "Because you mean more to me," he said as his hand reached for John's face.
John started at the touch of Legrand's fingers. He pulled away, but found himself backed up against the wall with nowhere to go.
Legrand pressed forward and rested his other hand on John's hip as their lips met.
John held his hands up but didn't move to push Legrand away. As Legrand's palm gently cupped his cheek, John could feel the the rough callouses on Legrand's hand from long years of fighting. In contrast, Legrand's lips were surprisingly soft, warm and yielding. It would be so easy to give in but there was no way John could escape the fact that he was kissing another man - and that was a level of intimacy too far. John jerked his head sideways, breaking contact. "No, please, Legrand - I can't..."
"Why not, John? The others are at dinner, Allan is still asleep - who'll know?" Legrand replied breathlessly.
"I will! It's... it's not right. We're in Christ's own country," John protested.
"We're not doing anything wrong, John. Please..." Legrand's hand moved from John's hip to circle his waist as his other hand tangled itself in John's hair. "I know you want this. Say what you like to the others - just don't deny yourself to me."
Legrand's grip around John's waist was tight, his chest solid as it slowly pressed against John's with each breath. He shifted his thigh between John's legs, using his weight to lean in as he pulled their bodies closer together. He was a wall of firm muscle, strength, heat - and hardness. Everything about him advertised his masculinity - how very far from being a woman he was, how wrong this was.
So why am I not putting up more of a fight? John asked himself. "Legrand--"
"Guillaume," Legrand huskily insisted.
"Legrand, I... I can't... This isn't just about comfort," John said weakly. "You want more, and I can't give you that. I'm sorry."
"Then give me what you can, John. It will be more than enough. Please." Legrand moved his head towards John's again.
John knew that was as blatant a lie as Legrand had ever told him, but suddenly he didn't care. No-one had made him feel anything like this for so long. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, letting out a soft moan as Legrand's lips met his once more. John placed his hands on Legrand's back, holding him close as he felt Legrand's tongue gently part his lips and slide into his mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
>>-------------------->
Allan slowly opened his eyes and looked up, struggling to focus. He gasped and quickly screwed his eyes shut again before hesitantly opening them once more.
He found John looking down at him with concern - there was no-one else in the room. "Allan. How are you, lad?"
"John... Djaq must have given me some crackin' 'erbs!" Allan chuckled, wincing at the pain as he did so.
"What makes you say that?"
"Not bein' funny but..." It looked for a minute like you were kissin' the big, blond fella... Allan's self-preservation instinct kicked in. Don't be daft - John'd kill you for even suggestin' it! "Nothin'...I must still be a bit groggy."
"I'll let Djaq know you're awake." John swiftly left the room.
Allan looked around at the strange surroundings and his gaze fell across a dark patch on the wall beside the bed, almost the same size as would be made by a large man's back pressing against it...
Naaah...
Allan laughed at his own imagination. He'd seen the unfamiliar face at the poles in the desert and heard rumours of a tall blond man joining the gang, but none of them had involved him and Little John like that. His senses dulled by fever and Djaq's herbs, he closed his eyes again and drifted back toward dreams as he heard her light footfalls heading towards him.
Next chapter...
Author: wastingyourgum
Characters/Pairings: Much, Little John/Legrand, Allan
Rating:PG-13
Genre: Drama, Romance, Slash
Words: 1715
Warnings: Slash
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender; takes place after 2x13 but prior to 3x01; Introduction and previous chapter links for DII are here...
Summary: As the gang gather for a last meal together at Bassam's, John tries to clear the air with Legrand...
>>-------------------->
Chapter 9: Christ's Own Country
Much was slightly disoriented, waking up in John's bed at Bassam's rather than in his tent. It took him several minutes to get his bearings; the hangover didn't help either. He felt slightly guilty for forcing John to find somewhere else to sleep but John waved him off and said not to mention it. For once, Much was happy to do as he was told.
Will and Djaq had stayed at Bassam's all week and when Allan was moved from the healer's, John had come with him. He said it was to help look after Allan and allow the newly-weds more time to themselves but Much knew John felt out of place at the King's camp. Much, Carter, Legrand and Robin had spent many hours in council with the King and their fellow knights - meetings from which John was excluded.
Now, it was the evening before the four noblemen and John were due to leave and start their long journey to Poitiers. Bassam had invited them all to dine at his house so the gang could be together one last time before they separated the next morning. They had arranged to stagger their arrivals at Bassam's throughout the day and then leave quietly before dawn the next morning.
Much's early arrival fortunately fitted their plans. He had insisted on being first there because he wanted to help prepare the food. As a knight he would never have to do any cooking of his own any more but he found he already missed it. His newly learnt Arabic had come in very handy for swapping recipes with Bassam's cook. He couldn't help wondering how Robin would fare with only John to make his meals and look after him.
Much gave the stew one last taste then he covered the pot and left it to simmer before heading to Allan's room.
John glanced round as Much entered the room. "Hello, Much." He was gently dabbing at Allan's forehead and chest with a dampened cloth.
"How is he?" Much asked.
"Still asleep and still feverish - but his breathing and his heartbeat are strong. Djaq truly is a miracle worker."
"From what Legrand told me of his wounds, he can testify to that." Much smiled.
John just nodded.
"Um, you and Legrand seem to have grown quite close..." Much ventured hesitantly.
"He's a good man. We've become friends."
"Just friends?"
John stopped bathing Allan and turned to look at Much with a scowl. "Yes. Just friends."
Much backed off. "No, fine, I was just asking. You seemed very concerned when he took so long to recover at the poles."
"I would have been concerned for any of you," John said evenly. He returned his attention to Allan.
"Right. Yes. Well...Dinner will be ready shortly. I'll get one of the others to come watch Allan for a bit so you can eat."
Much backed out of the room. He wasn't looking where he was going and collided with what he thought was the wall. When he turned he found it was actually Legrand's imposing figure. "Oh, Legrand - I didn't see you there. Sorry." Did he hear what I said to John? "Are you coming for dinner?"
"I am always ready to eat - much like your yourself, mon ami." Legrand smiled down at him.
Much grinned back at him, greatly relieved. No, he can't have done... "Well, you can help me serve and that way if you and I happen to get slightly larger portions, who's to know?"
"I'm sure there will be plenty for everyone, Sir Much." Legrand made a point of emphasising the title and Much smiled as he left.
An awkward silence descended as Much's footsteps faded away into the distance.
"I had thought of all people you might feel able to say something to that one," Legrand finally said.
"There's nothing to say to any of them," John replied, without turning round.
"You know he and Carter--"
"And there's nothing I need to hear about anybody else," John cut him off sharply.
"Why are you angry with me, John? Did I do something wrong?" Legrand asked.
We both did - about as wrong as you can get... John's memory flew back to the hold of the boat, that fateful night shortly before they landed in Acre...
The whole world was asleep.
Only the faintest of glows came from the oil lamp above them, barely enough to see by. The only sounds were the gentle lapping of waves against the hull and the soft creaking of the ship's timbers. No other sounds...except the pounding of John's heart he was sure the whole ship must be able to hear, and Legrand's breath - hot and ragged against the side of John's neck.
Legrand stood behind John, his warm hand inching steadily downwards inside the waistband of John's breeches, sliding softly across John's hip like the serpent of Eden promising the pleasures of forbidden fruit.
And John was hungry - it had been too long since he'd tasted it.
That strange day in Sherwood still seemed like a dream - muddled, confusing, memories of Alice and imaginings of Eleanor mixed up in the reality of Legrand making him feel more alive than he'd felt in years.
Like he was doing now.
Neither of them spoke. John closed his eyes and a small moan escaped his lips as Legrand's fingers curled around him with just the right - and at the same time, so very wrong - amount of pressure. He kept telling himself it didn't mean anything. Legrand wasn't doing anything to him he couldn't do himself - he was just doing it differently, slower, better...
"John - did I do something wrong?" Legrand asked again.
John forced himself not to look round. "No, nothing." And everything... You made me think about you in ways I definitely shouldn't...
Legrand put his hand on John's shoulder, but John flinched at the touch so he withdrew it again. "John... What happened on the boat--"
"I had to find some way to prove to you I trust you. That was all."
"And you did - but that and what happened after that was of your choosing as well as mine."
John decided he had to stop this now, before it went any further. He sighed as he put down the bowl and cloth, stood up and turned to face Legrand. "I'm not like you, Legrand."
"No, you're not." Legrand smiled. "And I thank God for it."
"God?" John exclaimed. "How can you talk about God after...what we did?"
"What did we do, John?" Legrand shrugged. "We took comfort in each other's touch - that's all. Many men here do the same regularly and then go happily home to their wives and children."
"Yes, but you're not married, are you?"
"No." Legrand shook his head. "And, believe it or not, this is not something I do regularly. I suppose because it means more to me than others." He stepped closer to John. "Because you mean more to me," he said as his hand reached for John's face.
John started at the touch of Legrand's fingers. He pulled away, but found himself backed up against the wall with nowhere to go.
Legrand pressed forward and rested his other hand on John's hip as their lips met.
John held his hands up but didn't move to push Legrand away. As Legrand's palm gently cupped his cheek, John could feel the the rough callouses on Legrand's hand from long years of fighting. In contrast, Legrand's lips were surprisingly soft, warm and yielding. It would be so easy to give in but there was no way John could escape the fact that he was kissing another man - and that was a level of intimacy too far. John jerked his head sideways, breaking contact. "No, please, Legrand - I can't..."
"Why not, John? The others are at dinner, Allan is still asleep - who'll know?" Legrand replied breathlessly.
"I will! It's... it's not right. We're in Christ's own country," John protested.
"We're not doing anything wrong, John. Please..." Legrand's hand moved from John's hip to circle his waist as his other hand tangled itself in John's hair. "I know you want this. Say what you like to the others - just don't deny yourself to me."
Legrand's grip around John's waist was tight, his chest solid as it slowly pressed against John's with each breath. He shifted his thigh between John's legs, using his weight to lean in as he pulled their bodies closer together. He was a wall of firm muscle, strength, heat - and hardness. Everything about him advertised his masculinity - how very far from being a woman he was, how wrong this was.
So why am I not putting up more of a fight? John asked himself. "Legrand--"
"Guillaume," Legrand huskily insisted.
"Legrand, I... I can't... This isn't just about comfort," John said weakly. "You want more, and I can't give you that. I'm sorry."
"Then give me what you can, John. It will be more than enough. Please." Legrand moved his head towards John's again.
John knew that was as blatant a lie as Legrand had ever told him, but suddenly he didn't care. No-one had made him feel anything like this for so long. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, letting out a soft moan as Legrand's lips met his once more. John placed his hands on Legrand's back, holding him close as he felt Legrand's tongue gently part his lips and slide into his mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
>>-------------------->
Allan slowly opened his eyes and looked up, struggling to focus. He gasped and quickly screwed his eyes shut again before hesitantly opening them once more.
He found John looking down at him with concern - there was no-one else in the room. "Allan. How are you, lad?"
"John... Djaq must have given me some crackin' 'erbs!" Allan chuckled, wincing at the pain as he did so.
"What makes you say that?"
"Not bein' funny but..." It looked for a minute like you were kissin' the big, blond fella... Allan's self-preservation instinct kicked in. Don't be daft - John'd kill you for even suggestin' it! "Nothin'...I must still be a bit groggy."
"I'll let Djaq know you're awake." John swiftly left the room.
Allan looked around at the strange surroundings and his gaze fell across a dark patch on the wall beside the bed, almost the same size as would be made by a large man's back pressing against it...
Naaah...
Allan laughed at his own imagination. He'd seen the unfamiliar face at the poles in the desert and heard rumours of a tall blond man joining the gang, but none of them had involved him and Little John like that. His senses dulled by fever and Djaq's herbs, he closed his eyes again and drifted back toward dreams as he heard her light footfalls heading towards him.
Next chapter...