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It has been a good day, Leon thinks as he peels off his armour and puts it in a neat pile in one corner of the room. The bandits are caught, the village thankful and the fight was exciting. At least for the other two knights. Leon had spotted a village girl in the hands of one of the bandits. Once rescued, she had been faint from the fright – as she well might be, because Leon knew as well as she did what would’ve happened if the knights hadn’t come when they did – and Leon hadn’t dared to leave her alone. Gwaine and Percival didn’t look like they needed much help anyhow.
Leon stretches, wincing at the pain in his back Gwaine and Percival are helping each other out of their armour, joking and laughing and jabbing each other until they’re tumbling on the floor like a pair of overgrown puppies. Leon feels old, and worn, and tired.
Percival wins the tussle, pinning Gwaine to the floor and holding him down for a few moments before springing to his feet and grabbing Gwaine’s hand to help him up. They both have the same feverish glow in their eyes, the one that means they will either find a girl each (not likely tonight, not in this small village) or find each other as soon as they think Leon is asleep. Until then, all that manic energy is channeled into mock fighting and endless chatter.
“I’m surprised you’re sleeping here tonight”, Gwaine says. “It’s a lovely cottage – shed – whatever it is they’ve put us in, surely the best they have to offer, though I can’t see how they can claim to be a village without so much as a tavern…” He trails off, as if he expects Leon to finish his sentence. When Leon doesn’t speak, he finds his way back to what he was saying. “Well, you could be sleeping in a much warmer bed this night.”
“What? Oh, the girl? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why not? A fitting price for a hero, after all.”
“You two were the heroes today. I was barely in the fight. Besides, I’m old enough to be her father.” Leon smiles, tries to take the edge off his words with exaggeration. “My time is up, it’s you young people that…” Leon shrugs, then bends over his saddle bag to find the small jar of liniment Gaius has given him. He scoops up a small amount of the herb-smelling sheep’s fat and rubs his palms together to warm it up.
“Oh, she didn’t look at you like you were any sort of father-figure”; Gwaine leers. “In any case, the man you took down today was the only dangerous one in the lot. Here, let me.”
Gwaine reaches for the liniment, but Leon shakes his head.
“I’m not old enough to need a nurse just yet.”
“You’re not old at all, but neither are you a contortionist”, Gwaine counters, snatching the jar from Leon’s hand. “It’s you back, isn’t it? I can reach it better than you, you can’t say anything against that. Now get that shirt off.”
When Gwaine puts his hands on Leon’s shoulders, they are smeared with generous helpings of liniment and warm from friction. His technique consists of more enthusiasm and force than actual skill, but it feels heavenly all the same. Leon can feel his body relax, and then react. It was too long since he had any kind of human contact other than sparring and fighting. He’s not fully hard, not yet, but he’s glad for the darkness of the small room. Gwaine keeps rubbing and kneading his back, and Leon lets his head fall forwards, leaning his elbows on his knees.
“Now, what’s that nonsense about you being old?” Gwaine says.
“It’s no nonsense, and you know it. I’m the only knight of the Round Table that has served under Uther before his son took over the knights.” Leon gasps as Gwaine find a particularly sore spot and Gwaine takes it as an invitation to keep working on it. It is a while before Leon can ungrit his teeth and speak again. “I’m the last of my generation.”
Gwaine pokes him in the back with a sharp finger, making Leon give an undignified yelp.
“You know you’re talking rubbish, right? You’re one of us.”
“I feel more like a father whose sons have all grown taller than him”, Leon mutters.
“Everybody feels short standing next to Perce”, Gwaine says. “I have no idea why you’d let that bother you.”
Percival sits down on the bed next to Leon, as if trying to get less tall. He twists around to speak over his shoulder to Gwaine. “I think our good captain feels left out”, he says.
“Really?” Gwaine sounds serious now, and Leon wishes he’d never brought the subject up. “Honestly, Leon, I’ve always thought you were above our antics. Like – no, not like a father, so don’t even try saying that. More like… you know, when I was little, I had this friend who had an older brother. That brother must have been, oh, at least two years our senior, and he trained as warrior in the baron’s guard. Just looking at him made my knees go weak from awe and my eyes go all wide and starry. I probably looked like a lovestruck fool. It was about then I decided to be a knight somehow.”
Gwaine seems to think himself finished with Leon’s shoulders, because his hands start wandering all over Leon’s back. Leon straightens up.
“You’re blabbering, as usual”, he says. “Thanks for this, but I think it’s time for us to go to sleep. We have a long day’s journey ahead of us.”
“If you really want me to stop, I’ll stop”, Gwaine says, grabbing Leon’s shoulders and pressing him back down.
One hand steals up to Leon’s neck, playing with the curls at his nape and Leon can’t help it. He melts, there’s no better word for it, falling back in Gwaine’s arms. Gwaine chuckles, close to Leon’s ear.
“It seems I’ve found our captain’s weak spot at last”, he says. “Makes me wonder what’ll happen if I do this…”
He replaces his finger with his mouth, kissing and then biting gently. Leon stops breathing for a while.
“Now, Perce, why don’t we show Leon exactly how young he still is?”
Percival nods and starts working on the drawstring of Leon’s breeches. Gwaine nudges Leon up so Percival can draw the breeches off him, and settles Leon better in his lap once he’s done. Percival places himself on the floor, kneeling between Leon’s spread legs.
It’s over almost embarrassingly fast. Gwaine kisses and bites Leon’s neck and whispers a steady stream of filthy nonsense into his ear while Percival licks and tastes and swallows Leon’s prick down to the hilt. Leon is reduced to a shivering mess, jerking his hips upwards, thrusting into Percival’s mouth and just hoping that he isn’t inadvertently hurting him. Gwaine threads his fingers into Leon’s hair, petting and then tugging at it and Leon comes, arching his back, pressing his shoulders into Gwaine’s chest and his prick into Percival’s throat. Gwaine laughs delightedly and kisses the side of Leon’s face, strokes his hands over Leon’s heaving chest and holds him until he’s got his breath back.
“Should I…” Leon starts, slurring a bit. His whole body feels boneless, numb and too sensitive all at once. He can’t take his eyes away from the sight of Percival licking his lips.
“I think we can handle this on our own”, Gwaine says. “You look half asleep. Another time.”
Leon nods. He is half asleep, his body more relaxed than it has been in… well, too long. Gwaine untangles himself and Leon slumps back on the bed. Percival gets some blankets from the pile in the corner and spreads them over him.
“Feel any younger?” Gwaine asks.
Leon mumbles an answer that could be anything. He doesn’t feel younger, but he feels less worn out, less stiff, less alone, and that will do.
(When they get home, King Arthur asks if the mission was successful. Gwaine replies that it was, with a smile devilish enough to raise Arthur’s eyebrow. He turns to Leon and asks if Gwaine has behaved himself. As Leon is about to answer, Gwaine puts an arm around his shoulders, snaking his hand up to Leon’s nape and tugs gently at his hair. Leon coughs, tries to hide the fact that his knees almost buckles, and nods at his king.
“Yes, yes he did.”
Arthur looks suspicious, but walks away without comment. Gwaine leans in closer to whisper in Leon’s ear.
“Just wait until I use it against you on the training field.”)