As he lay that morning, Lancelot pondered over which part of last night had been the reason why he was where he was. The agreeing to go drinking with Merlin, Arthur and the other knights would have been a good starting point, but he'd promised himself that he wouldn't drink so much; that idea had gone out of the window. Of course, there was the moment when he'd agreed to help a very drunken Gwaine back to his chambers.
Yes, that was the moment.
Lancelot sighed and turned on his side, watching as the other man in the bed sleep. He didn't know how it had started – what point in the heat of the moment did he decide that they were going to do the one thing he'd never imagined would happen to him? There was something about Gwaine: his charm, his smile; his laughter and the persuasive way that his lips had found the skin of Lancelot's neck – how he scraped his teeth lightly down to the part where his shoulder and neck met, the feel of his nimble fingers trespassing underneath the material of Lancelot's shirt… It was irresistible.
Of course, there was no denying that Gwaine was good looking – even with the dark circles under his eyes and the way his hair lay messy across his face, he was attractive. As he watched him, Lancelot couldn't help but smile at the memory of last night. For the amount he drank that night, Lancelot's memory was extremely good. All he knew was that things were going to be extremely awkward the moment that Gwaine woke up.
Making his decision quickly, Lancelot jumped out of the bed as quietly as he possibly could and scooped his clothes up from off of the floor. Then he dressed quickly, checking that Gwaine wasn't waking up every so often. The last thing that he wanted to do was cause a scene about something that had happened whilst both men were drunk – heavens knows what people would say about it if it ever got out.
The knight left shortly after that, closed the door gently behind him, just as Gwaine was waking up.
It had been two weeks after the night shared between he and Gwaine had happened, and from what Lancelot had noticed, things had continued to run as smoothly as they had done before. He was quite relieved that Gwaine had shown no signs of remembering it at all; it was best if things were just left unsaid and nothing ever came of that moment. However, there was no way that Lancelot could deny that he'd thought about it a lot… Even when he looked at Gwaine (particularly when he was shirtless) all he could do was look back at the memory of the two of them, his hand running down his perfectly formed body… lower and lower until he reached…
Lancelot jumped, feeling a light pinch on his behind, snapping him out of his daydream. Blinking, surprised, he looked around, finding himself alone. It appeared that the rest of the knights had gone back inside after training and left him to remember. Well, all of the knights except one.
"Are you coming in or what?" He heard someone say before he whipped his head around to see Gwaine, who had a cheeky grin plastered across his face, "And I'm not just saying that about going inside the castle either."
Lancelot watched, embarrassed and flustered; as Gwaine laughed and winked at him before turning on his heel and strolling off in the right direction.