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It'd taken a lot to convince Arthur to come out tonight; had it been any other knight trying to drag him along, he likely would have managed to wiggle his way out of it. But it was impossible to escape Lancelot. Though this one was a man of a different timeline than his own, he still had the same gentle aggression to him. He managed to pull Arthur along rather easily, pulling him under his arm and leading him off.
Admittedly, it wasn't bad to enjoy a few drinks with the other Knights of the Round Table. He found himself smiling as he sipped at his drink, watching as Tristan sang along with whatever song that came on -- inventing a few of his own along the way. And, of course, Gawain continued to order them all potato chips, until Arthur was almost sure he'd rather not eat another one in his life.
But then there was Lancelot. Arthur had heard from, pretty much everyone in Chaldea that Lancelot was a flirt. That he enjoyed going after older women. Yet here he was, all dressed up -- the image of a modern gentleman of Gudao's times -- sipping thoughtfully at his drink as his eyes stayed focused on only Arthur. At first, Arthur had thought it just a mistake, but as the night moved on, he found himself closer to Lancelot, their hands brushing against each other each time they reached for something.
"I think his highness is about done for the night," Lancelot finally spoke, his voice a low rumble as he glanced at the other knights. Tristan looked about ready to start drinking for real, and Gawain looked happy to try and match him. Lancelot himself considered joining them, but feeling Arthur at his side, their hands brushing together like this, he could hardly think of drinking at such a time.
"I'm fine. I'm not such a --" Arthur began, blinking in confusion. He was far from drunk, or even tipsy at that. Most of his drinks had been water or soda. He wasn't too fond of the idea of getting truly drunk like some of the others were.
"It's fine. I'll escort you back to your room." Lancelot interrupted. His voice had a certain strictness to it. One that Arthur could have easily argued against, but for the sake of avoiding trouble with the Lancelot of this world, he kept quiet and nodded. Gawain and Tristan waved their farewells to the two as Lancelot led him off, taking his hand.
They didn't make it very far.
"I think you are mistaken, Sir Lancelot," Arthur began, blinking in confusion as the other holds his hand tighter. "I am not the same as the king you are accustomed to."
"I know that well enough, my king." Lancelot glanced at him again, amethyst eyes darkened, half-lidded as he gently pressed his body up against Arthur's, pushing the smaller man's back against the wall as he pinned him there. "Yet, I cannot deny from the first time I saw you, you had my full attention in a way the King Arthur I knew never did."
Arthur's heart pounded in his chest; he swallowed hard as Lancelot leaned in closer. He could smell the man's cologne on him -- it reminded him of an iris flower. The same sort Lancelot had gifted him months ago during Valentine's Day.
"Are you alright with this --" Lancelot breathed, hovering just over Arthur, waiting.
"Of course. I know you will not harm me," Arthur answered, giving a respectful nod back.
"That's not what I meant," Lancelot grumbled, his breath hot on Arthur's neck as his hand slid up against his buttoned shirt. "I meant, are you alright with this. With me."
"Sir Lancelot," Arthur sighed, "I don't know what burden your heart must carry, but know this. If I did not want you to touch me, I would not be allowing it. Perhaps it makes an evil man of me, but I am glad to find myself in your arms. Even if in past lives we might have been enemies."
"Very well." Lancelot whispered, his lips brushing against Arthur's neck now as he kissed it reverently. Arthur squirmed against the wall, biting his lip to hold back noise as he balled his hands into fists. Lancelot took notice of it, chuckling in his ear as he kissed his jawline next, working his way up as his skilled fingers began to pull at the buttons of Arthur's shirt.
"You're so beautiful like this. Nothing in the world could compare to you right now," Lancelot purred, kissing Arthur's lips.
"Lancelot --" Arthur panted quietly. "We should... We should take this back to bed at the very least. It would be indecent for us to do such a thing in a streetway like this."
Lancelot obliged, pulling back slowly as he allowed for Arthur to recollect himself, red marks blossoming along his neck where Lancelot had kissed and nipped at it. The sight was far more erotic than Lancelot was prepared for, but as a proper knight, he did as his king instructed.
Thankfully, the walk back to the hotel room wasn't a long one, or it really would have been a test of his character.
Arthur hardly made it through the door of the room before Lancelot was upon him once more, kissing him more passionately and eagerly now as his tongue slipped between his King's lips, tasting him properly now. Arthur moaned and mewled against him, pushing up against his chest when he needed to break the kiss finally for air.
"Arthur." Lancelot said, finally using his name and not his title. That seemed to get a reaction out of Arthur, whose face suddenly burned bright red as he blushed, his gaze cast downwards until Lancelot grabbed his chin, lifting it up to pull Arthur back into another deep kiss.
"We should get to the bed." Arthur whined against his lips, motioning to the bed just a few feet away. But despite that, Lancelot growled at the suggestion, nibbling along Arthur's neck a little harder now as he sucked at the previous faint marks along his skin.
Arthur melted under his touch, panting louder now as he shut his eyes, head falling back against the wall just as Lancelot bit at his collarbone. It was enough to draw blood, actually, and at any other time he might have been angry. But he couldn't be angry with Lancelot like this.
"Arthur. If you're okay --" Lancelot's voice was husky, his hands lingering over Arthur's sides. "I'd like to --"
"Yes, I know. I want you to." Arthur responded, finishing the question for him with an answer. He reached up, undoing his own shirt buttons for Lancelot who perked up at the sight, discarding his own suit jacket and tie, he began to work at his shirt as well, until the both of them stood shirtless there.
"Let me know... If it gets to be too much. I don't want to hurt you, ever." Lancelot reminded him, kissing at Arthur's neck still before working his way downwards. Each kiss was as reverant as the last, all dedicated to his lover's pleasure as he felt him tense under the ministrations.
"You don't have to worry so much, really. I'm not fragile, Lancelot." Arthur chuckled, only to gasp as Lancelot's tongue slid over a nipple. And then his teeth grazed it, teasing it until Arthur was collasped against the wall, trying to cover his mouth with his hands to stifle his moans. But seeing him do so only aroused Lancelot, he switched sides, biting a bit harder than before so that Arthur jumped, the moans escaping at last.
"So beautiful..." There were other words Lancelot whispered in French, mingled in with those that appeared to be of some Fey language. Arthur wasn't entirely sure what it was he was saying, but as they all appeared to be compliments, he was flustered. In that embarrassment, he did try to gently nudge Lancelot's head away.
But Lancelot didn't stop. He looked up at Arthur briefly to make sure that the other wasn't asking to quit, but when he saw that Arthur was good to continue, he went on. His kisses trailed down Arthur's stomach, his fingers hooking beneath his pants before dragging them down slowly so that Arthur was fully exposed.
"You don't need to do that --" Arthur hissed as he inhaled through his teeth, body going slack against the wall as he felt Lancelot's kisses against his length, tormentingly soft on it. Already aroused by everything that had happened, Arthur was close to his orgasm. His eyelashes fluttered as his mouth hung open, his hips jerking a bit as Lancelot once again kissed the head of his length, his hands going to stroke at the base.
"Lancelot, Lancelot." Arthur chanted, feeling the brink of his orgasm looming over him like a gathering wave. Lancelot glanced up again, checking on him before biting at his thigh. Hard. Arthur didn't enjoy pain much, but the sensation of having his thigh bitten while his length was stroked had him whimpering as he came, spurts of it falling across Lancelot's face and chest.
"S-sorry. I didn't mean to get you dirty." Arthur said flustered, trying to recollect himself as his head spun. But Lancelot didn't mind at all. He smiled and laughed a bit, standing to wipe his face off as Arthur scurried off to hide under the bedsheets in embarrassment. From beneath them, he could hear the sounds of Lancelot at the sink, and then feel the bed bounce a bit as he sat down.
"You don't need to be embarrassed about that, my King. You did fine." Lancelot cooed, waiting for him to come out on his own. Which, of course, he did to apologize for the entire situation. But as he did, he noticed that the rest of Lancelot's clothing had disappeared, leaving the knight in only his boxers as he looked down to his King.
"And yet, I've left you unsatisfied, have I not, Sir Lancelot? It is a shame of a king who does not treat his knights with equal respect." He answered, eyes still cast downwards as he uncovered himself.
"Then." Lancelot spoke, and the world seemed to go silent as he pressed Arthur back down into the mattress. "Will you not satisfy me, Arthur?"
Arthur looked up at him, humiliation, nervousness, and above all, trust in his eyes.
"I would like to try, Lancelot."
That was all Lancelot needed before he descended upon the bright king, kisses now replaced with bites along his skin, marking him almost possessively as Arthur squirmed further, panting again as his body tried to overcome the break it needed. Everything felt hot and oversensitive, each of Lancelot's bites drawing his attention more than the last.
"I could love on you forever like this, Arthur. I wish I could." Lancelot mumbled against his skin, holding his hips as his thumbs pushed into his soft skin. "You feel so right against me."
"You don't need to use your pickup lines on me, Lancelot." Arthur replied, awed by just how lovestruck Lancelot was by him.
"I'm not using them on you. It's the truth."
Lancelot reached over to the beside table, pulling out a bottle of lube. He put some of the cool liquid on his fingers, rubbing it between them to warm it up for Arthur before sliding a hand up along his thigh.
"Is it cold?" He asked, seeing Arthur shiver a bit.
"A little. But it's better now," Arthur reassured him, nodding. Lancelot took that as the okay, letting his fingers slide lower until he was teasing Arthur's hole with a few soft prods. Arthur dug his heels into the bed, clutching at the sheets a little tighter now as his breathing grew labored.
"Let me know if it is too much," Lancelot reminded him, slipping the tip of the first finger inside of him. He took it nice and slow for Arthur, despite the multitude of kisses and bites along his neck and body. The second finger was much the same, but by the third they'd both gotten bolder.
Arthur ground his hips back against the fingers, letting Lancelot fingerfuck him now as he road them. Lancelot still focused on biting at his neck, having gotten a tad more aggressive since beginning.
"You aren't going to break me, I mean it, Lancelot," Arthur promised. He leaned down to kiss the top of Lancelot's head, showing the man the same amount of affection back. Lancelot blinked up at him, quiet for a moment longer before pulling back. Arthur hadn't thought much before about the size difference between them before, but it was clear that Lancelot really did have a few inches on him. Not to mention the difference in body type as well.
"I'll be as gentle as I can. Let me know if anything hurts." Despite Arthur's encouragement, Lancelot still hesitated, afraid of hurting the royal beneath him. He wasn't sure to what degree Arthur was used to this, and if he was being honest with himself, he very much wished to indulge himself in the sweet king below him.
But as a knight, he still had a little decorum left within him.
"Just breath easy, Arthur. I've got you." He mumbled, sweet in his lover's ear as he bent over him. He made sure both himself and Arthur were well lubricated, lest he tear the poor man trying to enter him. But as he pressed in slowly, both of them gritted their teeth. Not out of pain, but out of the sensation each of them felt.
For Arthur, it felt weird to be entered like this, but the pressure and weight of Lancelot's body against his own felt comforting. It felt like home. Reaching up, he clung to Lancelot, his nails scraping gently against his back as he arched up into him.
For Lancelot, Arthur was tight and hot, squeezing around him in such a way that the pleasure was almost blinding. If he were less experienced, he truly might have cum then. But he had his own ways of holding back, and growled as he began to thrust softly, teeth finding purchase along Arthur's shoulder.
Both of them kept this soft pace at first, but gradually Lancelot grew greedier, thrusting harder, faster, until Arthur really was scratching at his back trying to cling to him. The bed creaked loudly beneath him as Lancelot panted hard, chanting his King's name as though it were a prayer to him.
Arthur took it all, reaching between them to stroke himself as he tried to meet back against Lancelot's thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout their room now as Lancelot ceased holding back against him.
Arthur didn't last much longer than that, his mind going white as he came hard, Lancelot still fucking him through the orgasm until his body felt truly overstimulated, his nerves on fire as he tried to find his way down from his own post-orgasm high. Only to find he couldn't with Lancelot still pounding him into the bed.
Arthur tried to hide his face in the pillow, tried to cover his mouth to stifle his voice, but Lancelot grabbed his hands, pulling them above his head. He pinned them there, making sure he could hear every sound from Arthur's mouth, loving each cry of his name as finally his orgasm hit him.
He groaned hard as he spilled inside of Arthur, panting to try and catch his breath as they both laid still there, covered in sweat. Sweetly, he leaned down to kiss Arthur's lips, brushing his blond bangs back so he could kiss his forehead as well.
"W-well, it seems... You really are quite an impressive knight." Arthur chuckled, trying to catch his breath again. Lancelot peeked up at him, seeing his shy blush.
"Are you done, then?" He asked innocently. It was only then Arthur noticed his partner was still very, very much aroused.
"If you aren't, I can endure a bit more." Arthur offered, letting Lancelot kiss him again, his tongue sliding past his lips again as it deepened. Once again, Lancelot began to move, thrusting back into him, only this time with a little less restraint.
The bed groaned beneath them, louder this time as Lancelot focused on only their pleasure, aiming to hit Arthur's sweet spot with every stroke as the king beneath him scratched along his back still trying to cling. He was sure that there would be marks there in the morning, though by far Arthur had it worse. His entire neck, collarbone, and shoulders were covered in bites now, Lancelot sparing nothing as he marked his lover up, making sure that not every kissmark was able to be hidden.
Arthur was sure that after this time, Lancelot would likely wear himself out, but that proved to be a naive mistake. Lancelot continued, and Arthur encouraged it, each orgasm hitting him like a white hot sun as every nerve in his body felt it. By the end of it, he could still feel his body tingling and twitching, his mouth dry and throat hoarse from Lancelot's name.
And his partner, Lancelot, looked just as satisfied with himself, leaning to touch their foreheads together before kissing Arthur again, always so sweet after, despite how wild he was while actually fucking.
Both of them would certainly be feeling it in the morning, that was for sure. But for the evening, Lancelot at least scooped Arthur up, whisking him away to wash him up once they really were finished this time. He pampered his lover, giving him anything he could need and more, and staying beside him as Arthur drifted to sleep, snuggled against his soft chest.
When they woke up together the next morning, the only word Arthur could use to describe Lancelot was --
panic.
Lancelot was a flustered mess over all the bitemarks along Arthur's skin, trying to figure out what he could to do to help with them. Of course, there was always Nightengale to ask to tend to them, but Lancelot wasn't sure he was ready for what the cold nurse would do to the both of them in the name of medical care.
So with his face in his hands, he apologized to Arthur, who sat there simply smiling up at him as he reached up to ruffle his hair gently.