Psyche // Wilhelmina Corte-Real (psykhe) wrote in mythologs, @ 2012-04-01 15:58:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | galahad, percival |
Characters: Galahad [psykhe] & Percival [percival]
Date/Time: Sunday.
Location: Starbucks!
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Fail!Knights
Summary: So Galahad mans up and goes to see Percival.
As a person who had always been far better at following rather than leading, Percival found his new promotion as shift supervisor somewhat stressful. Telling others what to do was difficult for him, despite how much of an effort he put into his job. But he did his very best, always putting one hundred and ten percent into everything, beyond what was expected.
He was on the floor that day, hair tied back in its usual ponytail with a random braid along the side (courtesy of a female coworker who'd decided his hair needed some sprucing up). It wasn't particularly packed that day, but it had been a long day. Percy was ready to call it quits, except he had another ten minutes left before he was going to clock out.
Such was the life of a Starbucks employee.
The weight of a gun was not so different from a sword; Galahad hadn't really thought about things he'd done in regards to Percival. Even now as he entered the once-familiar Starbucks his mind was decidedly not on his fellow knight. He was considering the physics of the weight of the rifle versus a handgun, and how to adjust in order not to be slowed down by the recoil of the gun.
He made his way and lined up, eyes fixed on the board and most decidedly not to see if Percival was at the cashier or preparing drinks.
It would've taken Percival fewer than three minutes to notice Galahad in line had there not been other people in it. He paused with the latte he was preparing, wondering for a moment if he was imagining things. Deciding he'd catch the other man's attention later, he set to finishing up the order without glancing up once.
Was Galahad here for him or for himself?
For Percival.
Always for Percival.
Galahad ordered himself a frapuccino with whipped cream and headed to the end of the bar to wait. Then he noted that it was Percival preparing the drinks and he just felt...awkward. It all felt wrong and he pressed his lips together, keeping his eyes on the display cups nearby.
But the other knight was more than happy to serve his friend, despite his own awkward feelings. It had been a long time since they'd seen one another. Months, it felt like. Had it been months? Percival had lost track of time with Zurvan.
Before setting to preparing Galahad's drink, he Sharpie'd a note on the side. Only when he was setting the whipped cream on top did he sneak a look at the man, a look that was more curious than shy. He pushed the cup across the bartop toward Galahad with a note on the side of: Done in less than 10. Wait?
A smile was offered before Percival slipped back over to the machines.
Galahad's expression remained blank, it didn't reflect an acknowledgement of the note, but he did move to sit down on one of the tables by the door- clearly to wait for Percival to finish. He would be considered rude if he were to leave without so much as a greeting, and he had come here, so, might as well, right?
His thoughts kept running in different directions, which made Galahad unfocused and tense and unhappy. In so much as the perfect knight could be, he simply didn't allow himself to feel that way.
Likewise, Percival's thoughts were all over the place, leaving him fortunate that he was done very soon without having Galahad on his mind for too long. But he already had been, the man slipping into his thoughts without warning over the last several weeks. It was important for them to talk, but what could he do if Galahad refused? Beg?
After those minutes had passed, he finally was free. Coming out of the employee only door, dressed in casual clothing with hair freed from its braid and elastic, Percy beelined right for his friend, taking a moment to wave to a coworker.
He slid into the seat across from Galahad, hands resting on the table between them. "Hey. Been a while."
"I'm aware." Galahad replied, not maliciously, fingers keeping a steady beat across the paper cut he was holding close. Percival's writing - the ink - that hadn't smudged from the tight grip before. How to talk what you shouldn't even acknowledge? What was wrong -wrong- no matter how it felt otherwise.
Galahad didn't know a lot of things but one thing he had certainty of, he shouldn't feel this way. Yet he did, was this another trial? It wasn't like that with everyone, just him. So that had to mean something right? Whatever - he didn't want to think about it. Hell, he didn't even want to talk about it.
"I wasn't sure if you still worked here."
Unaware of how to react to feelings of tension, Percival merely offered a slight smile. There was always something awkward about his conversations with Galahad these days, for a reason he couldn't grasp. Was it him? Was it his fault, and if so, how could he fix it? No way to know without asking, but he'd bring it up when an opportunity arose.
"Yeah, I was promoted," he admitted, running a tired hand through his hair. "I would've told you if I'd gotten a new job." He felt that much was expected of him. As if it wasn't, he wasn't entirely sure what was anymore.
This was uncomfortably tense, so very tense. How to even go about this? Oh good lord. Even praying wasn't going to fix this or make it go away. "You wouldn't have had to." he replied softly, reaching over to play a little with the braid, "Your co-worker's job?" Galahad didn't feel jealous, just curious.
He didn't really like the braid, but he always - always- liked how Percival's hair was a little longer, pulled back and soft- okay. He had to stop thinking about that right now. Galahad pressed his lips together pulling his thoughts back.
The smile returned. "She doesn't leave it alone sometimes. I'm okay with it." Percy reached up and loosened the braid with his fingers, his gaze dropping to the cup before returning to his friend's face, those blue eyes. The sort of eyes that would make it easy for him to follow Galahad anywhere like a lost little puppy.
He would follow him anywhere, really. Always had he idolized Galahad, put him up on a pedestal to admire and follow to the ends of the earth. That was why he didn't tear his eyes away, not yet.
Galahad stared back, though he wasn't purposely trying to shield his own thoughts, but he was aware that he ought to. It was just very hard when Percival was looking at him like that and he could only stare back and try to keep his open affection from showing.
It was not a successful mission, he reached across without much thought and brushed back the hair from the undone braid. "We should get out of here. I don't -" Galahad stopped, bit his lip, "I don't know." How to fix this.
That was all it took to get Percival's mind settled: 'let's go'. He was unaware of the curious looks being shot in their direction as he pushed to stand, the chair scraping lightly against the floor. If it was a desperate move, he didn't notice or seem to care.
"Then let's get out of here," he parroted back, hoping that would be enough to have Galahad following suit.
There was a certain relief- in knowing that no matter what, he had Percival by his side. Close enough. It had never been a problem until he understood what the proximity of the other knight did to his senses, his mind betrayed him, as did his body. His faith didn't waver and he did not want to betray that.
A small nod, then Galahad was behind Percival, touching the small of his back as he moved to his side and steered them down the street. Direction East, destination- unknown.
If only Percy could admit to being as pious as his friend, but he couldn't. Not as Wesley, in this body and in this life. Inside he would always be Percival, yet his desires were easily clouded, as they always had been. It was how he'd almost been led to temptation once. Did his love for Galahad taint whatever pureness he'd once possessed?
Love was an interesting word to use. He'd always loved Galahad as a friend, perhaps beyond friendship and something more akin to being a soulmate, but over the past year, many things had developed. What was it now?
While barely able to resist the urge to snag the other man's hand, Percival angled his head toward his companion. "Where are we going?"
Galahad would say the fundamental problem was that he was not as pious as everyone thought he was. Certainly couldn't be considered when he kept thinking about the shape of Percival's mouth and that New Years a year ago. (It seemed an awful long time ago). "I don't know." It seemed that was his choice phrase of the evening, he was beginning to really hate it. Back in the Grail quest he always tread forward without worrying - always trusting his feet to lead him to the right path.
He doubted those instincts would be useful right now (let's face it, Galahad's personal relationships had been pretty much non-existent). "Is there somewhere you want to go?"
Initially something very cheesy entered Percival's brain as a potential response, but he miraculously had the presence of mind not to voice it. Nowhere in particular came to mind at first, until he remembered just what was within walking distance.
"Tribeca Park isn't too far from here. And I've been on my feet all day," he offered, laughing mostly at himself for complaining. "I could use a bench."
Galahad considered, he tilted his head slightly, "I'm sorry, that was inconsiderate of me, you have been on your feet all day." Which was his very round-about way of saying yes, let's go there and sit down on a bench. The weather was getting much better so it wasn't like being outdoors for a long period- well, it wasn't a problem right now.
There were other problems with sitting in the park with Percival but the weather was not one of them. Galahad turned down the street leading the way now that they had an official destination. He didn't really speak as much as glanced at the other man to make sure he was still by his side.
Not once did Percival stray, always within two feet of the other knight. Even after people dodging, he'd be right there, ready to follow. In his mind, it was Galahad always leading the way, and himself merely playing the faithful follower. It made sense to him in that way. Had he been kidding himself, thinking he could lead or contain a revolt?
He ran a thumb over the knuckles of his other hand, recalling the sensation of the hammer slamming into them. The thought silenced him for a time, which likely suited the already quiet Galahad.
Upon reaching the moderately empty park, Percy eyed one empty bench in particular, but ultimately he was leaving the decision-making to his friend.
Taking the hint, Galahad picked the empty bench and sat himself down, crossing his legs and getting comfortable. Or trying to, it was very hard when his mind kept wondering down very... wrong ways. Like whether or not it was too inappropriate to sling his arm along the back of the bench to brush Percival's shoulder or not.
It was not appropriate.
Galahad tilted his head slightly, waiting for Percival to talk (Or not talk). Mostly he didn't want to open his mouth because whatever came out of it would probably be either stupid or too cold (and God knew, Galahad knew) that Percival didn't deserve a cutting remark.
Unfortunately, that left Percival to be the one to speak first, and he was unsure where to begin. There was no fear of cold remarks escaping his mouth, but stupid, yes, he could do stupid. Stupid like mentioning Zurvan and reliving the memories of his last days there.
He exhaled deeply through his nose, dropping forward to set both elbows on spread knees. It was fine with him if neither said anything. It wasn't what he preferred, but it was significantly more preferable to one of them uttering a stupid thing and the other walking away.
Deep breath. And -- "I've missed you, Galahad." Percival adjusted his neck to eye the knight. His admission was genuine, and it read in his face.
"I've missed you too." Galahad replied without missing a beat, equally sincere. A year ago they had been inseparable, soulmates- and they still were, but Galahad was trapped by his own religious conviction on top of the whole emotional constipation thing. sprinkled with intimacy ignorance and... well. It was - Galahad might make a perfect knight, but anything else? Debatable.
"You know why we haven't..." Been close, "...but that doesn't mean-" his feelings had changed. "- you know?"
Did he? Did he really? At the very deepest core of him, Percival knew. He could comprehend that their closeness had crossed a line. He could even admit that being away from the other man for a time was probably a good thing. A necessary thing.
What he couldn't admit to was the strength needed to walk away from Galahad, if he had to.
He withheld a sigh. "I know. But I'm..." Pause. Restart. "I don't know how to be without you." Emotional dependance on another person was dangerous, but he was willing to take his chances.
This was an overdue conversation but it was no one's fault, and Galahad wanted- god he wanted so badly- but at the same time he didn't know what to do. His admission made the knight tense up, the line of his shoulders becoming stiff, betraying that discomfort. "I'm not going to leave you, Percival."
It was true, even if he had forced distance between them, Galahad hadn't planned on leaving. Ever.
That discomfort was immediately sensed, and it flooded Percival like cold water. How one could feel like a little boy in a grown man's body, he didn't know. There came a time when everyone felt unlike their age, but this was-- he felt like a lost child. Galahad was his strength where he failed, and the prospect of losing him, being without him-- it went beyond words.
With a tense inhale, he pushed his back into the bench, fingers idly tracing over knuckles. A habit he'd picked up.
"It's not like that. What I mean is..." Breathe. "I don't know how to be apart. From day to day, week to week."
Oh.
Oh.
Well, that was-
Oh.
Galahad blinked rapidly and felt uncomfortably warm, he reached inside to tug the collar of his shirt. "I don't know how to do that." It wasn't just a matter of wanting or not, he genuinelly didn't know how to. (Or how not to). "My parent's aren't exactly grand examples to follow." Elaine and her 'drugging' of Lancelot, and his adultery with the Queen. Nope, Galahad didn't even have one foot in the door here.
"I'm just--" Percival abruptly cut himself off, feeling frustrated with his lack of eloquence. Words had never been his strong point. "I don't know. I don't know either."
And really, he didn't. There was just so much he did not know, couldn't comprehend. Suddenly he felt the weight of his sheer stupidity, wondering where it'd been hiding all along as it showered on him like acid rain.
And Galahad could never help himself, he had to react in certain moments, he knew he ahd to be the leader in certain situations (most). "It'll be fine." He replied with a certainty he didn't quite feel himself. "We'll make our own path." Yes, that sounded right, they didn't have examples to follow, nor experience, but they'd been young when they set out on the Grail quest and achieved it.
They would figure this out too. Most importantly, Galahad didn't want Percival to feel stupid over this.
The reassurance had Percival finally glancing over with curiosity rather than despair, the latter of which he had such experience with in times like these. "Is it that simple?" he queried, still tracing his hand with expectant fingertips (for pain). The way in which Galahad suggested it, he made it sound so easy.
Galahad took Percival's hand, clasping his own on top, "Yeah, why can't it be this simple? The goal of our quest was simple." IT was just getting there that took time, but the principle was the same. Or close enough. Figures that it would be how Galahad would see things, how he would try to conciliate what he wanted and what he could/had to do.
Darker eyes flickered down to their hands, and then right back up to Galahad's face. "But how will we..." Percival trailed off, not feeling up to completing that sentence. There were too many questions, and it was hardly fair to lay them all on the man clasping their hands together.
Too many questions, not enough answers in the world.