Author: Stigmatized
Title: Running
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Allan/Will
Summary: Robin Hood Will finds a new way to keep Allan quiet. Slash.
Warnings: Slash
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Robin Hood and all its characters belong to dear old Auntie Beeb, not me. Put the lawsuits away, folks.
Notes: A fic from the BBC's 2006 adaptation of Robin Hood. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it, mainly for all the lovely men.
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He was struggling to keep up; to stay close to Will and stay away from the soldiers; to keep his feet from snagging on the exposed roots and fallen branches. He stumbled, just managing to keep his balance and avoid getting trapped between hard, leaf-littered ground and cold, harsh metal of the horses' shoes. He looked up just in time to see the orange flash of Will's tunic disappear behind a tree to the left of the path.
Allan followed him, and didn't cry out when a hand grabbed his ankle and he tumbled less than gracefully down the knoll. He even managed to hold back a sneeze as the dust and dirt from the forest floor rose around him and up his nose, and leaves settled in his hair. He looked up to see Will steal quietly down the small hill, and before he had time to gripe about his fall, Will had pulled him behind a thick bush and was looking furtively through the branches.
"What the hell was that?" Allan almost said, but barely got past the first syllable when Will's hand clamped down on his mouth. Dark eyes sent him a warning, but Allan was damned if he was going to heed it. He prized the tan fingers from his face, hoping his eyes were as intense as Will's had been a moment ago. "Don't do that, I've-"
Will's hand was over his mouth once again, and the young man hissed at him, "Be quiet, you fool!" Allan had long since stopped hearing the beat of the horses' hooves, and was getting rather upset by Will's insistence on being so melodramatic. After a moment or two of exertion, he managed to throw off Will's hand once more.
"They're gone! What-" Suddenly and very unexpectedly, something was, once more, covering his mouth. It wasn't Will's hand this time; it was, even through his shock Allan noticed, much softer, but no weaker. It took him a while to recover, and eventually realized that it was Will's own mouth, his lips, pressed tightly to his own; Will's body warm and half-covering his chest. Allan could feel his heart racing in time with Will's and suddenly he felt his own lips moving, and when Will returned the action he let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.
Hoof beats at gallop became louder, drawing nearer as lips parted and tongues met. Allan's arms reached around Will's back almost of their own accord, fingers digging into the skin of his back and pulling him down, closer and fiercely and so that he felt he might drown in the man. In the back of his mind he could hear the horses and the shouts getting fainter and more distant, but he wasn't sure if it was Will causing it as strong, rough hands held his head just above the debris on the forest floor, stroking just behind his ear as his teeth bit on his lower lip; Will's stubbled jaw rubbing harshly against his own. Then, as abruptly as it had started, it finished. Will's lips left his, his body rising up to peer out at the empty, silent road and leaving Allan cold.
"Come on, it's nearly sunset. The others will be waiting." Allan finally blinked, and when he looked back up Will's back was following the road back to the Longstone.
That boy, he thought, was full of surprises.