1. Nothing sunlit here, no warmth in their exchange, just pure contest. Lancelot is the better jouster, and in a way he half-expects that it will give him the edge, as though his skill at arms will translate into skill here on the floor of his bare room. But Mordred is cleverer, and his fingers find the places that are secret even to Lancelot, the places where just the pressure of a palm can make him cry him out. Lancelot doesn't even know why it's happening. He just knows it's a contest, and he never backs away from a contest.
2. It's the first time they've had a chance to sleep together since Medraut was born. Anna is beautiful with the flush and radiance she assures him is only due to post-partum hormones; Athyr tells her he doesn't give a fuck about her doctor talk and catches her round the waist.
They wind up in bed, as they always do when they're really happy. The war is coming to an end. When Athyr comes inside her, with a shout torn from his throat, it feels as though it's the climax of this entire struggle, and he's sure, really sure, that he can ride it out easy from here.
3. "No more passengers," Mal says, frowning, but the bearded young man charms his way into everyone else's good graces. After that he charms his way into the engine room, as if it had been his purpose all along.
Kaylee doesn't mind at all. He alternates between a gentlemanly respect as smooth as Simon never manages to be, and a cheerfully lewd sense of humour that always sets her into laughing so hard she can't hardly stop.
Not that he can really take the place of Simon-- but he's a real nice interlude, and it's nice to have someone making her feel more than pretty; nothing wrong with that, Kaylee figures, nothing wrong with a break in the dry spell with someone who knows how to use his mouth more'n one way.
4. John doesn't understand Sherlock at all.
What he does understand is the good, solid, English determination to do one's duty, to serve one's country, and to watch Doctor Who in the evenings with a t.v. dinner or a box of takeaway and a bottle of Fixton's, and then to take turns getting each other off in a companionable haze of too much beer and too many late nights at crime scenes.
Perhaps these latter details aren't quite ubiquitous. But after they've done it once it doesn't feel too peculiar to do it again, and then after a while it's a habit.
And, unlike Sherlock, it's a habit he understands.
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2. It's the first time they've had a chance to sleep together since Medraut was born. Anna is beautiful with the flush and radiance she assures him is only due to post-partum hormones; Athyr tells her he doesn't give a fuck about her doctor talk and catches her round the waist.
They wind up in bed, as they always do when they're really happy. The war is coming to an end. When Athyr comes inside her, with a shout torn from his throat, it feels as though it's the climax of this entire struggle, and he's sure, really sure, that he can ride it out easy from here.
3. "No more passengers," Mal says, frowning, but the bearded young man charms his way into everyone else's good graces. After that he charms his way into the engine room, as if it had been his purpose all along.
Kaylee doesn't mind at all. He alternates between a gentlemanly respect as smooth as Simon never manages to be, and a cheerfully lewd sense of humour that always sets her into laughing so hard she can't hardly stop.
Not that he can really take the place of Simon-- but he's a real nice interlude, and it's nice to have someone making her feel more than pretty; nothing wrong with that, Kaylee figures, nothing wrong with a break in the dry spell with someone who knows how to use his mouth more'n one way.
4. John doesn't understand Sherlock at all.
What he does understand is the good, solid, English determination to do one's duty, to serve one's country, and to watch Doctor Who in the evenings with a t.v. dinner or a box of takeaway and a bottle of Fixton's, and then to take turns getting each other off in a companionable haze of too much beer and too many late nights at crime scenes.
Perhaps these latter details aren't quite ubiquitous. But after they've done it once it doesn't feel too peculiar to do it again, and then after a while it's a habit.
And, unlike Sherlock, it's a habit he understands.