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    Summary

    A collection of knightly entanglements, whispered confessions, and bruised lips behind closed doors.

    Sir Gawain — brown-eyed, sharp-tongued, ever the charming fool — finds himself constantly at odds (and in bed) with Sir Lancelot, Camelot’s golden blade and its worst-kept secret. In sparring rings, in castle corridors, in chambers dim with firelight, they circle one another like hounds in heat and saints in denial.

    Sometimes sweet, sometimes sinful, always a little stupid — these are their stolen moments, bound by steel, sweat, and something that might be love (but neither of them dares say it plain).

    Apologies in advance, these are disorganized and have been collecting dust in my Notes app for far too long. This fic only exists to free up space in my phone and to act as an archive for me, but if you derive enjoyment from it too then I’m happy to aid a kindred spirit.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    4,615
    Chapters:
    8/?
    Comments:
    1
    Kudos:
    10
    Bookmarks:
    1
    Hits:
    135