Pairings: Gawain/Galahad, Lancelot/Arthur

AN: As of date, this is the longest fic I've written! I feel like celebrating; my attention span is expanding. Forgive me, but this isn't my best work. I had writer's block when I was working on another project and I needed to get back into the swing of things so I took a little time and wrote this fic. I wasn't planning for it to go this far, but now, it's a mini-project/writing exercise for me to do in my spare time. (Meaning no plot and the chapter's writing styles will differ.)

Thank you LeilLu, slightly-psychotic, Shauna, bakachan17, and celedriel-greenleaf for reviewing, I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's kinda fluffy :)

Perspicacious

Lancelot cursed under his breath. This is the last time he would ever ride behind Gawain and Galahad. The two thought he was out of earshot, and they had been talking back and forth for an hour. Most of the conversation Lancelot could have done without. He considered holding this over their heads, but Gawain would probably kill him and say something awful about him at his burial.

He wanted to switch places with one of the other knights. Preferably Tristan, so he could be closer to Arthur. So he could see that faint smile in his leader's eyes as he looked over the rolling hills. He was always a hair's breadth away from telling him how he felt, and he was fairly sure it was the same for Arthur. There were always looks between them that were held a little long, and it wasn't always accidental that their hands brushed against each other.

Lancelot had slowed some to allow more distance between him and the two. Though, he would only admit it to himself, Lancelot was slightly envious of them. He wanted to talk with Arthur as they did with each other; he wanted to sneak away with him for hours on end. But for he most part, he wanted to sink his lips into Arthur's and ravage him like a wolf.

XxXxXx

This was it. Lancelot had secured a position next to the target. In a few moments he would make his move. The others were distracted by eating, and he was close enough to Arthur that they probably wouldn't catch what he said. Now all he needed was to tell Arthur quickly, so the others didn't notice. And if they had to leave camp to finish the conversation, so be it. It wasn't unusual for them to discuss things outside of camp. But what should he say? This would be so much easier if he was a barmaid. Then he could just say something like, "I want to bear your children."

Arthur turned his head, a questioning look on his face. To his horror, Lancelot realized he had said it out loud.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. I didn't say anything."

"Are you sure?" Arthur still looked suspicious.

"Well... no, but I didn't mean to say that..."

"Then what did you mean to say?" Arthur had a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Lancelot grabbed the back of Arthur's head and drew him into a kiss. He felt Arthur relax against his lips, and smiled. They pulled apart, with Lancelot muttering that they'd finish this later, and went back to their meal.

Bors nudged Tristan with his elbow.

"Did they just...?", he trailed off, hoping he wasn't imagining things.

Tristan shook his head, "I didn't see anything, and if you don't want Lancelot to kill you, then you didn't either."