Fic: 'Regained'
I hope this comes under the heading of 'treating Much right'. I so desperately wanted a snuggly fic!
Title: Regained
Author: J. C. Way
Rating: 15
Fandom: Robin Hood (2006)
Timeline: post 2.02
Wordcount:
Pairing: Much/Robin
Summary: Much wakes in the night.
Notes: Fluff! With the minutest speck of angst if you look closely. This was mostly inspired by straitjackit’s ‘By The Fireside’. I couldn’t resist the snuggling. ^_^ Warning: slash! A little spoilery for 2.02, and also posted to robinhoodbbc.
Much drifted back into consciousness, the strings of gummy-eyed sleep still clinging to him. The first thing he was aware of was warmth. He was deliciously warm, warm to the tips of his toes and his ears; the brittle autumn cold was gone, for once. He felt solid all the way through, blood, muscles and bones. The gentle sounds of the others’ breathing - as normal to him now as his own skin - seemed to be whispering him to sleep.
He opened his eyes. Only the ember-glow and the smallest, struggling flicker of flame were still alive in the firepit. They threw on the bodies of the sleepers the barest kind of radiance.
Allan was across the fire from where Much lay. He slept awkwardly, his face half turned into his arms. As Much watched, a trace of a frown passed across his face and then was gone again. He made a quiet noise in his sleep, and Will’s hand snaked sleepily around his waist, fingers tightening on Allan’s shirt. Much turned his eyes away.
Little John was a ragged mountain, asleep where he had been sitting against the twisted fall of roots that protruded like fingers from the wall of the camp. In the strangely cast shadows, Much could just make out his closed eyes, and the lines of sleep-tension around them. Close beside him - but not quite touching - was Djaq. She was curled in her blankets like a cat. Her face was in shadow.
Something inside Much stirred. He set his jaw against it. Something about her, how small she was, her strength muted in sleep - he stirred, on the brink of getting up - but a body moved against his back. Robin’s legs nudged his, drawing in closer, and his hand slid and stayed, flat, on Much’s hip.
Much closed his eyes again and remembered the day before. His mind skated over poisoned arrows and hot lead, and he grabbed Robin’s arm harder than he perhaps should have done and pulled it over him, so that his back was flush against Robin’s chest and Robin’s fingers (curled loosely in sleep like a child’s) pressed against his mouth. He kissed the scraped skin under his lips.
“Much?” A soft sound, from the remains of his master’s dreams. “’S’matter?”
“Nothing.” Much laced his fingers through Robin’s, and thought he felt an answering squeeze. “Nothing at all.”
Title: Regained
Author: J. C. Way
Rating: 15
Fandom: Robin Hood (2006)
Timeline: post 2.02
Wordcount:
Pairing: Much/Robin
Summary: Much wakes in the night.
Notes: Fluff! With the minutest speck of angst if you look closely. This was mostly inspired by straitjackit’s ‘By The Fireside’. I couldn’t resist the snuggling. ^_^ Warning: slash! A little spoilery for 2.02, and also posted to robinhoodbbc.
Much drifted back into consciousness, the strings of gummy-eyed sleep still clinging to him. The first thing he was aware of was warmth. He was deliciously warm, warm to the tips of his toes and his ears; the brittle autumn cold was gone, for once. He felt solid all the way through, blood, muscles and bones. The gentle sounds of the others’ breathing - as normal to him now as his own skin - seemed to be whispering him to sleep.
He opened his eyes. Only the ember-glow and the smallest, struggling flicker of flame were still alive in the firepit. They threw on the bodies of the sleepers the barest kind of radiance.
Allan was across the fire from where Much lay. He slept awkwardly, his face half turned into his arms. As Much watched, a trace of a frown passed across his face and then was gone again. He made a quiet noise in his sleep, and Will’s hand snaked sleepily around his waist, fingers tightening on Allan’s shirt. Much turned his eyes away.
Little John was a ragged mountain, asleep where he had been sitting against the twisted fall of roots that protruded like fingers from the wall of the camp. In the strangely cast shadows, Much could just make out his closed eyes, and the lines of sleep-tension around them. Close beside him - but not quite touching - was Djaq. She was curled in her blankets like a cat. Her face was in shadow.
Something inside Much stirred. He set his jaw against it. Something about her, how small she was, her strength muted in sleep - he stirred, on the brink of getting up - but a body moved against his back. Robin’s legs nudged his, drawing in closer, and his hand slid and stayed, flat, on Much’s hip.
Much closed his eyes again and remembered the day before. His mind skated over poisoned arrows and hot lead, and he grabbed Robin’s arm harder than he perhaps should have done and pulled it over him, so that his back was flush against Robin’s chest and Robin’s fingers (curled loosely in sleep like a child’s) pressed against his mouth. He kissed the scraped skin under his lips.
“Much?” A soft sound, from the remains of his master’s dreams. “’S’matter?”
“Nothing.” Much laced his fingers through Robin’s, and thought he felt an answering squeeze. “Nothing at all.”