Room 303, Saturday Morning

[bitchprince]

Hunting with Merlin hadn't done much to soothe Arthur's frazzled nerves yesterday, but the handwavey beat-up sparring session with the boy afterwards had helped. Somewhat.

All right. Not that much, but it had been funny, especially since Merlin didn't need to be patched-up afterwards (not that he worried).

He'd gone to bed miserable and angry and ready to take it out on just about anything, and now he'd woken up with something insistent pressing against the bed. Something that hadn't been there for five rather frustrating days. Well, it'd been there. Just not quite-

It would be unbecoming to claim he was happy about it. But displeased, he wasn't. With some effort, he propped himself up.

God help them all, he better be able to do something about it, or he'd slaughter the island.

[[ for the roomie, and very probably nws. um. ]]

Comments

[bitchprince]

"I've heard stories of vast seas of sand to the southeast," Arthur said, kicking away the blankets with one fluid movement. Clarity of mind was his first priority, and he'd do best to remember that. "But they weren't really of any concern."

[future_sandworm]

"Perhaps I should go there, while I'm here," Leto said, half to himself. During the past week he had paid less attention to Arthur, as he had been, well, in a terribly bad mood. Even teasing him about it had seemed like a bad idea.

[bitchprince]

"Perhaps," he agreed, casting a look at Leto at last. Watching him. "And perhaps I should see if Albion's drowned in its own rain yet."

[future_sandworm]

Leto returned the look. "You're in a good mood." Well, better than yesterday, at least. That was something.

[bitchprince]

"Talking about the weather always cheers me straight up," Arthur retorted, guiding his feet off the bed and onto the floor. "You look snug," he added, dryly.

[future_sandworm]

"I don't quite understand this habit about talking about the weather," Leto informed him. He had been talking about deserts, after all. That was different. "I do?"

[bitchprince]

"You wouldn't," Arthur fired back, and he stretched once before he stood up. He smirked. "And you do. Tell me, do you actually have need of blankets in this desert of yours?"

[future_sandworm]

"It gets quite cold at night," Leto informed him, raising an eyebrow. "And without protection the sun would burn you during the day."

[bitchprince]

"It's a fair bit warmer in here," he pointed out. His feet struck a wandering pace, ambling easily towards Leto as if it didn't matter much at all.

That didn't mean he didn't absorb the information, mind. He needed to find a library one of these days.

[future_sandworm]

"It is," Leto agreed, stretching and yawning. "Which I do appreciate. But I do miss nights in the desert. The sand turns so dark that the stars seem brighter than a fire."

[bitchprince]

"Lots of nothing," Arthur said, perfectly agreeable. He'd reached Leto by now, leaning over him the faintest bit, his head tilting. "I can see that," he continued, glancing upwards once in mock-thought, "Although I was never much for the stars."

Arthur was a man of sun and rain, when it came right down to it.

[future_sandworm]

"No?" Leto looked up at him. Arthur was in a surprisingly good mood, and if he wasn't mistaken, in the mood for something else too. "So what do you prefer?"

[bitchprince]

It had been five bloody days. It was either a good mood and this, or kicking Leto out of the room for some alone time, and the latter still went in against most of his carefully-bred instincts.

"The weather," he said, dryly, which by all definitions wasn't a lie, and leaned further, a definite smirk tainting his lips. "But you were short on that."

He could be perfectly charming if he wanted to.

[future_sandworm]

In some cases, having the memories of numerous ancestors remind you that five days was in fact not a long time and there were ways to keep your mind off things was helpful. Arthur, of course, had not had that advantage.

Leto smirked back, leaning his head a little closer. If Ghanima anyway thought he was teasing his roommate he could just as well do it, and besides, he had a feeling it could be rewarding. "Oh, I can talk about anything you like. But I have so little to say about rain."

[bitchprince]

"If you ever visited Albion," Arthur said, with a raise of his eyebrows in faux-thoughtfulness, "That would change." He pressed one hand to the chair besides Leto's head. "You've no idea."

[future_sandworm]

Glancing at the hand, he grinned, and leaned his head against it. "So, you have riches pouring from the skies."

Leto looked at Arthur, wondering how long this would take him.

[bitchprince]

Arthur offered him one more dry look. "As they say," he said, "One man's riches are another man's bloody muck."

Considering that he had all the patience of a mad bull at times... Arthur bent his head down, pressing his lips to Leto's with force.

No point in wasting charm where it wasn't needed.

[future_sandworm]

That... didn't take long. Not that Leto objected in the least, because when he no longer had to keep his mind off these things, he found that yes, he needed this very much too. Now. He returned the kiss, slipping his arms around Arthur's neck.

[bitchprince]

Arthur grasped at his side with a hand, finding blankets in part, pulling to get him up to his feet and preferably somewhere flat. Now. The rest of him focused: on lips and tongue and bodyheat and tension that finally found somewhere to go.

Sometimes, roommates were damned convenient.

[future_sandworm]

Leto let himself be pulled to his feet and pushed in any direction Arthur had in mind. He quite trusted his roommate to have the right idea on what to do. Meanwhile, he attempted to get rid of that blanket and then any items of clothing that were in the way.

[bitchprince]

Bed. Either or. Arthur's seemed closer, so that's where they went. He managed to shove his nightshirt over his head somewhere in between actions, letting it drop to the floor- deal with that later- his palm dragging firmly up Leto's back at the first sign of skin.

[future_sandworm]

Having pulled his own shirt over his head, Leto let himself fall on to the bed. Right now, he regretted having got dressed at all, and impatiently tugged at his own trousers, giving Arthur a look to tell him that he was most welcome to assist with this.

[bitchprince]

Arthur's mouth tugged into a half-smirk, but he managed to contain the worst of it. He leaned over Leto once more, tugging helpfully on the bindings of said trousers. Chivalry worked in any number of ways.

He was grateful for his own bedclothes, which were far easier to remove. His own trousers could wait for now, and that gave him time to yank firmly on Leto's once any points of trouble were out of the way.

[future_sandworm]

Chivalry certainly had many advantages.

With his clothes out of the way, Leto pushed himself up to kiss Arthur again, pressing himself close. Yes, he had missed this, quite badly, and he let go of any attempts at patience.

[bitchprince]

Returning that kiss with a fierceness, Arthur yanked on the drawstring of his own last scrap of clothing, yanking it down his hips before he crawled fully on top of Leto. He gave a passing thought to squirrels, but this entire place had some bizarre obsession with rumor and he wasn't sure how to deal with it regardless- and right now it hardly seemed to matter as he pushed back down against the warm body beneath him with a hiss.

[future_sandworm]

Leto had given up on the squirrels and the radio. He would claim in was lies if he needed to. Not that he was thinking about any of that right now.

He slipped his hands down along Arthur's body, not letting go of the kiss.

[bitchprince]

Arthur's own fingers had found Leto's thigh, brushing roughly against it, pulling, finding some way to settle them. He was in no mood for slowness or subtlety or nuance- breaking the kiss, he turned his attentions to Leto's neck with only just enough control to refrain from leaving any marks.

[future_sandworm]

Tipping his head backwards, Leto let him do this, letting out a gasp of pleasure. He only had his hands free now - Arthur was heavier than he was - and dug his fingers into his back.

[bitchprince]

Satisfied with- whatever, he thrust down his hips roughly, moaning something utterly shallow into Leto's skin, his thumb pressing into the man's thigh before he shifted his hand to the mattress. Fast, please. Come on.

Not that he'd say that aloud.

[future_sandworm]

Clearly any kind of finesse was out of the question today. Not that it was a problem, although he usually preferred giving things a little more time. Leto tried to shift underneath Arthur, moving with him, mumbling to the voices in his head to be quiet.

[bitchprince]

He let up just a little pressure, adjusting, his own body shifting ever so slightly sideways. It wasn't an invitation to turn the tide of power around, not in the slightest: Arthur had an itch and if necessary they could repeat it slow later.

Leto was mumbling something. It made no sense to him, and so he pressed his mouth to Leto's again, willing whatever it was quiet.

[future_sandworm]

Kissing was good right now. All this was good, and Leto knew it would not last much longer unless he held back, which seemed pointless. One arm reached up and then another one, and he pushed Arthur's head closer, deepening the kisses. He couldn't help it; memories not his came unbidden into his mind of similar moments, and then his own memories of Alice pressed close to him.

He would not mention that last part to anyone.

[bitchprince]

If Leto did mention it, Arthur would've just deemed it very sweet and laughed about it; he didn't have a bloody romantic bone in his body.

But whatever.

He was more than happy to respond in kind, letting the whole thing slip to movements, chafing away the edge of his frustration. The real truth was that the past week had simply been another straw on a well-packed camel's back, but Arthur favoured his sanity immensely.

He panted something senseless against Leto as things began to rush, eyes firmly shut against the heat and skin.

[future_sandworm]

Leto would seriously object to being called romantic. Perhaps it was that most people he wanted around here except Arthur was strangely reluctant for one reason or another.

Not that he was able to articulate something like that right now. Shutting out everything else Leto felt even the kisses turning distracting, and shifted all his attention to draw this to and end.

[bitchprince]

Arthur was faintly aware that his mind was bringing to the forward some complete, useless hogwash about something or other that he couldn't trace to the end, and he was more than happy to accommodate an end to any kind of distraction except-

That.

He moaned something mildly obscene as everything seemed to tumble to a halt all at once.

[future_sandworm]

Not yet, just very soon. Leto was unable to put that into words, but his body was probably clear enough on the matter. He pushed against Arthur, urging him not to stop, not yet...

[bitchprince]

Still panting heavily, Arthur shoved one hand down rather roughly to take him in hand, firm and fast because God knew they'd had too much of the lacking kind as of late. "Come on," he breathed, harsh against Leto's ear.

[future_sandworm]

It took only moments and Leto gasped against Arthur's neck, pleasure releasing all tension, and then he sank back, breathing heavily.

[bitchprince]

That was a good thing. He let go, granting himself a moment to enjoy the feeling of all muscles untensed before he groped around for a rag to use to get the muck off of his hand.

With that accomplished, Arthur then granted himself a moment to appreciate his own bedsheets as he rolled sideways.

[future_sandworm]

They would dry, eventually.

Leto rolled on to his side, blinking, not yet ready to speak.

[bitchprince]

Absolutely fine by Arthur, who was contemplating whether to stay conscious or perhaps make like a beached whale and sleep. It was a passing thought, however- he had never been quite fond of sloth as a concept.

Relaxing, on the other hand, was nice. He listened to his breathing as it slowed back to its normal rhythm, his right arm splayed out in one direction and his left in yet another.

Much better. Possibly even than the weather. He debated the possibility of glancing at Leto, but judged it an effort.

[future_sandworm]

Leto scooted closer, and he would be quite content to sleep after this. And then perhaps some more, and then in less of a hurry.

[bitchprince]

Arthur, when he found the energy to move, was rather more concerned with the window. That is to say, the amount of sunlight coming through, and what that meant in terms of time of day. Merlin would be visiting in some time, and after that, practice; there was enough of a lack of any kind of schedule to the day that Arthur felt it was simply negligent to drop what little he could manage.

Of course, Leto being his roommate, he'd have to compromise lest his usual 'kick them out of bed as soon as possible' strategy end in small-time warfare.

Confident that there was at least some time before Merlin would show up, Arthur sagged back, allowing Leto to do whatever desperately girly clinging he felt he had to. Until he fell asleep, anyway.

Which would hopefully be soon.