#raycelot

Has a half dozen wet dreams, as a grown man, all centered on Lancelot. He wakes up aroused and angry— why won’t this snotty asshole leave his dreams alone, at least?! He doesn’t need to see Lancelot crying out while his body is shoved up the bed with every slap of their hips, or smiling so softly and reaching out for Ray when they are done. He doesn’t need to know what the Red King might look like if he got shyly bold and knelt between Ray’s legs on a crimson cushion on the floor. It doesn’t matter how pale scarred hands would shake, or how the vulnerable Adam’s apple would bob, or what tears look like falling from eyes blue or red. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need this. It doesn’t matter. He repeats this to himself as he jerks off in the shower and his brain and body tell him it matters a lot.

...and most of that is before he’s sheltered by the Red Army after his injury. After he and Lancelot have sex and he returns to Black Army headquarters, Ray grasps at these dreams and touches himself with purpose as he remembers them. There’s some heartache there, a lot of sadness for the ways he now knows Lancelot is isolated. He doesn’t take anyone else to bed in a silent form of kingly solidarity. Thinks this is stupid but also the right thing to do. He nearly tells Fenrir so many times.

And Lancelot has sporadically dreamed of emerald glass figurines in an open display case and the sound of unrestrained laughter since the first time he met Ray. He’s been waking up horny and upset for months now.

He goes back to the room where Ray stayed and takes the pillowcase. He keeps it folded in a black silk pouch in his nightstand, and sometimes tucks it between his own pillowcase and the pillow after difficult days. When the scent is truly gone... he keeps it.

He wants kisses, he privately really really wants kisses somewhere sunny and public and safe, and he will remember Ray kissing his shoulder until the day he dies.

I definitely HC an eventually happy ending for this pair, but there would be a lot of angsty growing for the both of them first. This universe has melancholy. They’d get thrown together again (probably Ray back at Red HQ, I can’t see Jonah letting them get any alone time if Lance was at the Black Army 🤣), have sex again, and take on the Tower together. Sirius knows. Fenrir knows. Kyle knows. Blanc knows.

Seth is scandalized. Ray’s dating the Red King, who tried to kill him and take over their territory? Seth is initially suspicious of the relationship and is incredibly worried about an imbalance of power. The type of smothering mother who waits up for Ray to get home and make sure that he hasn’t been hurt and listen to how the date went, demanding more details than he really should be allowed to know. As Ray tells more and more positive stories about Lancelot, Seth begins to relax and starts trusting their relationship and acknowledge that they are happy together.

Jonah doesn’t think Ray is good enough for King Lancelot. He is opposed to the idea of Lancelot dating someone from Black Territory – particularly someone of such a high status. Jonah makes it a point to tell Lancelot this in the early days, and often finds an excuse to be in the room next door whenever Ray is visiting Lancelot in Red Territory so that he can keep an eye on things. As time goes on, he realizes that the King of Spades is having a positive influence on King Lancelot, and he is forced to acknowledge that Lancelot is clearly in love and that this relationship is making him a happier man – which makes him happy in return.

Edgar thinks that this is the funniest thing to in the Red Army for a long time, and the first who is aware of the relationship. He can see it in the way they interact after peace talks and meetings, the glimmer in their eyes and how they always end up talking in a secluded corner of the Gardens. Edgar is in full support of this relationship and never tells when he spies Lancelot coming out in the very early hours of the morning after a night out with Ray. All he wishes for is Lancelot’s happiness.

Zero does not particularly care either way. If Lancelot seems happy, then he considers it a good thing. When he is at parties where Lancelot and Ray are in attendance, he does note that Lancelot is doing better and that the pair of them are clearly in love. He is also one of the first to tell Lancelot that he is happy for their relationship and often calls out his soldiers when they express their hesitance about the relationship. Also is the one who often goes to escort Ray into Red Headquarters so that way he can come in unharmed.

Its discovery had been an accident. 

While trying to sneak into the enemy’s school after having skipped their own classes for the day and having lost Fenrir soon after they breached Red security, Ray had been keeping to the shadows when he stumbled upon a well hidden path within the overgrown foliage, leading further into the woods at the back of the school.

Having followed the trail in hopes of getting himself out, Ray had happened to spot something writhing and white, within a small cardboard box located obscurely within the greenery, well out of way of passers-by.

Curious, he had approached, only for a blur of white streak to jump out at him.

“Whoa!” Ray had immediately reached to catch the flying thing on impulse, holding onto it tight. 

And on closer inspection, the fact that it was a feline didn’t make matters any better, and so he had stayed.

 “Who are you?” An uninflected voice called to him from behind. Ray turned around, fingers still within the lion’s snow white fur, scratching it adoringly behind the ears.

The cub seemed to be enjoying Ray’s touch even as the golden haired stranger walked towards Ray on slow measured steps.

He seemed to be older than Ray, well into his college years perhaps, his hair the golden halo of a cupid, eyes the color of frosted blue. And despite himself, Ray found himself admiring the boy. 

Beautiful.

The new arrival raised a brow in question. “Pardon?” It was then that Ray realized he had spoken the word out loud.

Quickly, he turned back to fawning over the lion cub. “He’s beautiful,” Ray offered, wonderingly. “What’s a waif like him doing out here?”

The blue-eyed boy remained silent for a long while making Ray believe he did not wish to speak to a stranger, especially one decked out in Black territory attire as he was, but then–

“His name is Shine.” It wasn’t a proper answer but it was something.

“Well, aren’t ya one sharp kitten, Shine.” Ray murmured, scritching the lion under its chin one final time before reluctantly letting go.

He stood up, giving the other boy a once over before he spoke. “I’m Ray, by the way. Thanks for letting me pet your lion.”

The golden boy offered a nod in acknowledgement. “Lancelot. You’d best be on your way before they catch you. The exit’s just on the other side of that hedge.” He jutted his chin in the direction, moving to lift Shine into his arms.

“Alright. Thanks.” Ray offered him a smile, a tiny tug of the lips, before he paused once again, staring at Lancelot as he held Shine in his arms.

“Can I touch?” Ray asked out of the blue, words tumbling out as if in sudden thought.

Lancelot gave him a look as if he thought him odd but acquiesced nonetheless, extending his arms still holding his pet. Ray reached for, and past Shine’s fur, hand settling into the impossible softness of spun gold, the color of the sun trapped within locks as he gently sifted his fingers through Lancelot’s hair, the latter staring at him, shell-shocked.

“Your hair is so…”

.

“…Beautiful.” A soft, private murmur into the skin of his counterpart, Ray’s hand shifted through his hair, gold turned muted silver in the moonlight.

Lancelot’s reddened flesh, evidence of the night’s passion spoken onto it; old scars causing the only bumps and blemishes beneath Ray’s fingers as he traced them in breathless wonder. Wet tongue following their path across the shuddering expanse of Lancelot’s chest.

Soaked through in sweat, Ray’s and his own, the Black King swooped down to catch stray droplets on his tongue.

Lancelot let out a low grunt before dragging Ray’s face down to his own, the raven king’s hips jerking at feeling the true impact of famished desire against his lips, in his mouth, hot and wet and dripping.

Throwing him off of him, Lancelot switched their positions, promptly driving his hips against Ray’s, earning a muffled moan in reward. “What it is that has your mind so occupied, young king?” The question uttered, not without a light frown that deepened with Ray’s breathless laughter.

“Nothing much. I was thinking of times long gone, I suppose.” Ray reached a hand towards him, the King, fingers tracing Lancelot’s porcelain, almost statuesque features but Ray knew how much of that was a façade, hiding the fire burning within.

Lancelot turned away from his touch, as if he did not like what he saw manifested in Ray’s eyes. And Ray understood.

Sometimes, it wasn’t so easy to see oneself through all the layers one chose to hide themselves within.

But it didn’t matter. For when they were together, they saw the other, deeper than chilled beauty, deeper than hardened hearts, deeper than rank and skin, extending into their very souls.

Ray and Lancelot were reflecting glasses, one each, part of a pair, revealing the other’s actual truth, hidden within years’ worth of drapes.

And for now, that was all that really mattered.

.