Apr. 21st, 2005 08:25 pm
Title: Conflict of Communication
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lovely_ambitionTitle: Conflict of Communication
Pairing: minor Gawain/Galahad
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened.
Summary: Galahad is furious because of what he's heard.
Notes: Written for the challenge of 'what if they had to fight each other'. Except in my case, there's less 'had' and more 'wanted to beat the ever-living shit out of each other'. As in all my G/G fics!
Gawain was in the midst of his cups – four servings of ale gone down smoothly – when Galahad stormed up, back from his latest mission, back from something Gawain had disapproved of. Arthur had assured Gawain that it was nothing more than information gathering, so Gawain had nodded to their leader and bid Galahad goodbye with nothing to say other than, “good luck.”
Now, Galahad was storming into the tavern, straight towards Gawain. He forcibly removed the girl from Gawain’s lap with two strong hands, gently nudging her aside and hauling Gawain to his feet, punching him in the face.
“What in hell are you doing?” Gawain growled, reacting with the punch and tackling Galahad to the ground out of instinct. Arthur and Dagonet came running in – and the both of them had been out with Galahad as well; perhaps there was method to this madness – hurrying to flank Gawain, just in case the situation was out of control. Gawain pinned Galahad down – staring at that hurt face for more than a few seconds always weakened Gawain – and glanced up to Arthur. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He was told…”
“Why did you say that about me?” Galahad demanded, wounded. He shifted and moved until he could knee Gawain in the crotch, sending Gawain backwards, hissing in pain. Galahad stumbled, grasping the ground and pushing forward until he was straddling Gawain. Dagonet made a move forward, but Gawain waved him off. Galahad wasn’t likely to tell the cause of this anger if he was being hauled away by Dagonet.
Gawain frowned, having trouble breathing as Galahad was pushing his thumb very deliberately into one of Gawain’s pressure points. “Say…what about…you?”
“You called me a whore,” Galahad growled, eyes flashing with rage and fury. “Tristan told me on the campaign. You called me a whore in front of everyone!”
Gawain opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for what to say. “I…Galahad, you have to…”
Galahad punched him again.
“Okay,” Gawain seethed. “Okay, that hurt. Galahad,” he growled. “Listen to me, damn it.” He braced his arms and used brute force to shove Galahad off him, staggering to his feet and yanking Galahad up by the tunic. He pushed forward until he had Galahad pressed up against a wall, the both of them breathing hard and no one bothering to pry them apart. Gawain glared. “I did not call you a whore.”
“Tristan said so!” Galahad’s voice erupted out over the tavern, quieting everyone else. “And when does Tristan lie!”
“Every time he wants to rile you!” Gawain exploded, pushing in closer, both hands beside Galahad’s head to keep him trapped there. “Idiot!” Gawain scoffed loudly. “You haven’t figured that out?” he shouted, wide-eyed and shocked at Galahad’s sheer idiocy. “He says anything he needs to just to get a reaction out of you, which clearly, he did!”
Galahad faltered, the expression on his face slipping back into the unsure, wide-eyed boy. “You didn’t say that?”
Gawain growled again, not moving. “I said that if Tristan were to bed you like he wanted to, he’d treat you as nothing more than a whore!” Gawain shouted at the top of his lungs, digging one hand into the muscle and bone of Galahad’s shoulder as he clasped there tightly. Galahad’s anger was faltering like the breath escaping a dead man – quick and painfully. “Do you understand?” Gawain demanded, narrowing his eyes and not letting up.
Galahad nodded slowly. Gawain nodded in reply and eased away, smiling with a placating front as he backed a few steps, only to throw a punch.
“Ow!” Galahad snapped. “Gawain!”
“We’re even,” Gawain said as innocently as he could – which was not very innocent at all, not with his demeanor. “Next time, assault the right man.”
Galahad sneered at him, pushing himself away from the wall and brushing off his tunic, joining Gawain’s side – when the other Knight made a show of pausing to wait for him – and heading towards the tavern. Gawain walked beside him, shoulders occasionally brushing. “You had better make up for this later tonight. You know I bruise worse than you do.”
“Don’t expect me to kiss it better,” Gawain remarked evenly, walking with Galahad to get more ale.
“Kiss? No, Gawain, you’re going to owe me much more than kissing for the black and blue I’ll have,” Galahad scoffed, ordering them ale and smirking.
Gawain sighed. “The only man in the tavern who bruises like a woman and I have to sleep with him,” he muttered under his breath. Galahad gave him a cross glare and a hard shove, to which Gawain only smirked back at him and claimed the ale ordered for him. “It’s a good thing I don’t mind you so much.”
“Bastard,” Galahad swore under his breath.
Gawain just laughed.
end
Pairing: minor Gawain/Galahad
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened.
Summary: Galahad is furious because of what he's heard.
Notes: Written for the challenge of 'what if they had to fight each other'. Except in my case, there's less 'had' and more 'wanted to beat the ever-living shit out of each other'. As in all my G/G fics!
Gawain was in the midst of his cups – four servings of ale gone down smoothly – when Galahad stormed up, back from his latest mission, back from something Gawain had disapproved of. Arthur had assured Gawain that it was nothing more than information gathering, so Gawain had nodded to their leader and bid Galahad goodbye with nothing to say other than, “good luck.”
Now, Galahad was storming into the tavern, straight towards Gawain. He forcibly removed the girl from Gawain’s lap with two strong hands, gently nudging her aside and hauling Gawain to his feet, punching him in the face.
“What in hell are you doing?” Gawain growled, reacting with the punch and tackling Galahad to the ground out of instinct. Arthur and Dagonet came running in – and the both of them had been out with Galahad as well; perhaps there was method to this madness – hurrying to flank Gawain, just in case the situation was out of control. Gawain pinned Galahad down – staring at that hurt face for more than a few seconds always weakened Gawain – and glanced up to Arthur. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He was told…”
“Why did you say that about me?” Galahad demanded, wounded. He shifted and moved until he could knee Gawain in the crotch, sending Gawain backwards, hissing in pain. Galahad stumbled, grasping the ground and pushing forward until he was straddling Gawain. Dagonet made a move forward, but Gawain waved him off. Galahad wasn’t likely to tell the cause of this anger if he was being hauled away by Dagonet.
Gawain frowned, having trouble breathing as Galahad was pushing his thumb very deliberately into one of Gawain’s pressure points. “Say…what about…you?”
“You called me a whore,” Galahad growled, eyes flashing with rage and fury. “Tristan told me on the campaign. You called me a whore in front of everyone!”
Gawain opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for what to say. “I…Galahad, you have to…”
Galahad punched him again.
“Okay,” Gawain seethed. “Okay, that hurt. Galahad,” he growled. “Listen to me, damn it.” He braced his arms and used brute force to shove Galahad off him, staggering to his feet and yanking Galahad up by the tunic. He pushed forward until he had Galahad pressed up against a wall, the both of them breathing hard and no one bothering to pry them apart. Gawain glared. “I did not call you a whore.”
“Tristan said so!” Galahad’s voice erupted out over the tavern, quieting everyone else. “And when does Tristan lie!”
“Every time he wants to rile you!” Gawain exploded, pushing in closer, both hands beside Galahad’s head to keep him trapped there. “Idiot!” Gawain scoffed loudly. “You haven’t figured that out?” he shouted, wide-eyed and shocked at Galahad’s sheer idiocy. “He says anything he needs to just to get a reaction out of you, which clearly, he did!”
Galahad faltered, the expression on his face slipping back into the unsure, wide-eyed boy. “You didn’t say that?”
Gawain growled again, not moving. “I said that if Tristan were to bed you like he wanted to, he’d treat you as nothing more than a whore!” Gawain shouted at the top of his lungs, digging one hand into the muscle and bone of Galahad’s shoulder as he clasped there tightly. Galahad’s anger was faltering like the breath escaping a dead man – quick and painfully. “Do you understand?” Gawain demanded, narrowing his eyes and not letting up.
Galahad nodded slowly. Gawain nodded in reply and eased away, smiling with a placating front as he backed a few steps, only to throw a punch.
“Ow!” Galahad snapped. “Gawain!”
“We’re even,” Gawain said as innocently as he could – which was not very innocent at all, not with his demeanor. “Next time, assault the right man.”
Galahad sneered at him, pushing himself away from the wall and brushing off his tunic, joining Gawain’s side – when the other Knight made a show of pausing to wait for him – and heading towards the tavern. Gawain walked beside him, shoulders occasionally brushing. “You had better make up for this later tonight. You know I bruise worse than you do.”
“Don’t expect me to kiss it better,” Gawain remarked evenly, walking with Galahad to get more ale.
“Kiss? No, Gawain, you’re going to owe me much more than kissing for the black and blue I’ll have,” Galahad scoffed, ordering them ale and smirking.
Gawain sighed. “The only man in the tavern who bruises like a woman and I have to sleep with him,” he muttered under his breath. Galahad gave him a cross glare and a hard shove, to which Gawain only smirked back at him and claimed the ale ordered for him. “It’s a good thing I don’t mind you so much.”
“Bastard,” Galahad swore under his breath.
Gawain just laughed.
end
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