I really like your Lancelot here - he's got the perfect combination of bitchiness, neediness, and sentimentalism. And the sex is hot too - it's rough and angry and just perfectly Arthur and Lancelot.
I know you said that this is part 1 of 2, but it could end here, too.
I like to pick out specific lines to discuss.
Do you care so little for your brothers, Arthur?
That's our Lancelot. Such a little bitch.
Arthur’s breathing is uneven and his voice is like gravel
I like that you've got Arthur all riled up; only Lancelot can do that to him.
The air leaves Lancelot’s lungs in a gasp that is partly a laugh as a vast wild joy takes hold of him, and the pulse in his neck jumps under Arthur’s hot mouth.
This is hot. You can almost hear it, feel it.
And he knows a fierce exultation at the knowledge that this is his doing, that he is the cause of this brief but complete loss of Arthur’s famous control.
Oh, Lancelot. *shakes head* Only he would enjoy driving Arthur to distraction.
Lancelot’s answer is like the crack of a whip, but whether the contempt he feels is for Arthur or for himself, he finds he can’t tell.
Yes! That's the thing about Lancelot - his contempt for everybody else is tied up in his contempt for himself. That's an excellent character insight moment.
Arthur speaks from the doorway. “Lance. Stay.”
I never like Lance for Lancelot, but that's personal taste.
If the words grate and if his throat closes as he speaks, it can surely be put down to the bruising violence with which Arthur has just used him.
That's excellent.
Arthur never asks about his own memories of home and kin. Never.
That doesn't seem like Arthur - to tell his own stories and not ask. He's kind of a stiff sometimes, but he does care about Lancelot.
no subject
I know you said that this is part 1 of 2, but it could end here, too.
I like to pick out specific lines to discuss.
Do you care so little for your brothers, Arthur?
That's our Lancelot. Such a little bitch.
Arthur’s breathing is uneven and his voice is like gravel
I like that you've got Arthur all riled up; only Lancelot can do that to him.
The air leaves Lancelot’s lungs in a gasp that is partly a laugh as a vast wild joy takes hold of him, and the pulse in his neck jumps under Arthur’s hot mouth.
This is hot. You can almost hear it, feel it.
And he knows a fierce exultation at the knowledge that this is his doing, that he is the cause of this brief but complete loss of Arthur’s famous control.
Oh, Lancelot. *shakes head* Only he would enjoy driving Arthur to distraction.
Lancelot’s answer is like the crack of a whip, but whether the contempt he feels is for Arthur or for himself, he finds he can’t tell.
Yes! That's the thing about Lancelot - his contempt for everybody else is tied up in his contempt for himself. That's an excellent character insight moment.
Arthur speaks from the doorway. “Lance. Stay.”
I never like Lance for Lancelot, but that's personal taste.
If the words grate and if his throat closes as he speaks, it can surely be put down to the bruising violence with which Arthur has just used him.
That's excellent.
Arthur never asks about his own memories of home and kin. Never.
That doesn't seem like Arthur - to tell his own stories and not ask. He's kind of a stiff sometimes, but he does care about Lancelot.