Thank you mssparrington, gryphon55, Hugo's HaremGirl No. 1, Surreal13 and God.
The second drabble is dedicated to gryphon55 who requested something sensual for Lancelot and Tristan.
Lightning- Lancelot/Gawain
A crack of thunder and a jagged flash of electric. The wind whistles. The door opens and Lancelot steps in from the night.
"Devil's rain," he says, with a flash of trademark grin. His curls are wet, plastered to his forehead and his eyes are dangerously dark.
Gawain's lost from the first moment.
"What were you doing outside?" he asks. He tries to sound noncommittal. His words ring false.
"She didn't show."
"Her father must have found out."
"Aye."
Something's there: a spark like the lightning outside, crackling in the air between them. Gawain burns with desire. Lancelot says goodnight.
Desire- Lancelot/Tristan
Lancelot stands in the doorway.
He stares at Tristan- at the man with dark emeralds glittering under lidded eyes and nimble hands, glistening with oil, caressing the curved blade of the sword.
Lancelot swallows. "You're up late, Tristan."
Tristan abandons his sword. He moves towards Lancelot, who is rooted to the spot, transfixed by Tristan's oil-covered hands.
"Open your shirt," Tristan instructs.
He stares at the expanse of skin before him, then runs his hands across Lancelot's chest, leaving shining patters behind.
Lancelot sighs as slippery hands force his chin upwards and Tristan carefully – almost reverently – kisses his exposed throat.