Smut Picture Prompts Meme: It's Actually Sunday According to World Clock Edition (I think)!

[meme_maid]

the  smut picture prompt meme
SIMILAR TO THE PICTURE PROMPT MEME ONLY FOR NSFW/SMUT PROMPTS INSTEAD

i. COMMENT WITH CHARACTER
ii. OTHERS LEAVE A PICTURE (OR TWO OR THREE....)
iii. REPLY TO THEM WITH A SETTING BASED ON THE IMAGES.

THIS POST WILL BE IMAGE HEAVY AND NSFW.

Link to an image:   <a href=IMAGEURL>TEXT</a>

Embed an image in your reply:   <img src=IMAGEURL>

Image height and width:   <img src=IMAGEURL width=500> OR <img src=IMAGEURL height=INSERT>

Comments

[knightedking]

[ooc: Totally fine with Archer, and with Fate/Smashing Verses; mixing up Masters and Servants for different dynamics is my jam! I also tend to play switches, so Archer receiving is just fine with me. And Arthur is my favourite version of Saber too, so we're off to a good start all round :) Shoot me a PM or some such if you'd like anything changed in this starter!]

---

This was not Saber's first Holy Grail War, nor was it even his first in this period of history--a few decades between each summoning allowed him a particular kind of perspective on the terrain and how its altered over the years. But during those previous summons, he had not been in a position where his Master eve forged a true alliance with another Master. While it was a new development as far as the Grail Wars was concerned, Saber's loyalty to his Master and trust in tactical choices was resolute. As for Archer and his Master...

Maybe it's simply virtue of classes, that a particular brand of tension exists between Saber and the Archer classes he's encountered, but of course it might also just be a matter of personalities. Archer's Master's parting words (a curt and clipped, "We have things to discuss," while pushing Saber's Mater back through the door and pointing an accusatory finger back at the two Servants with a warning of, "You two. Play nice.") leaves Saber blinking a few times before chuckling softly.

"What an interesting Master you have," he comments lightly before turning toward the other Servant, his eyes narrowing subtly. "Archer."

Play nice, he reminds himself and tries to shake off the tension in his shoulders, but somehow instead finds himself pacing forward as he draws back his hood. It doesn't really feel like shedding away the crackling energy at all--their last couple of clashes before their alliance had been intense and evidently it's easier said than done to just 'play nice' with that as a backdrop. But as a knight whose code involves being chivalrous and gallant toward one's allies, Saber at the very least has to try.

"It seems we'll have to settle our score some other time. Will that suit you?"

He asks this, though a slight twitch of irritation remains in his own stomach--a spark of desire to indeed settle something with Archer despite the ostensible comradery wedged between them now. It's probably a little unkind of Saber even, to imply that it's Archer alone who would have the problem between them here, when he knows full well the prickling energy is well-seated in himself.

[selfdenial]

[ooc: Yay for Fate/Smashing! That’s always fun, the dynamics between Masters and Servants. I’ve always wondered how some Servants would go with other Masters. And cool for the switch. If they go a second round, they can also switch it up. Excellent for the fave Sabers. This starter looks amazing so I’ve got no problems at all. Thanks!]

---

This War was different from all the others. Though Archer wasn’t present in person for the past wars, the feeling of this War, the almost finality within the air, seemed to push that testament forward. The clash between Servants at the behest of their Masters was different now that the bond between Servant and Master in this War suffered a change. There was a certain someone actively attempting to protect the Servant… and unfortunately, the strange bond had forced hands. Archer was initially against the alliance, not wanting to trust someone so close to his Master. But then again, he was pragmatic enough not to fight it for long and accepted the decision with little more than a reminder that if it came back to bite his Master… don’t come crying to him.

His new ally, however, Saber, was… different. Unlike his dealings with another Saber, ever since the first clash between them, Archer’d not been so quick to dismiss this one’s intentions. There was a trace of nihilism within his desire for justice, and a logic that seemed to suggest the Servant had less risk of becoming consumed by the obsession to protection to the point Archer had observed in himself and the other Saber. It piqued his curiosity: what was the future for this Saber?

Not that it did anything to diffuse the obvious snapping of tension within the room. Archer still was a proud person and he’d not at all been fond of his Master’s succinct parting shot. Play nice. What was his Master getting at? Hadn’t the two of them been at each other’s throats no less than two days ago, the orders to Kill still fresh in mind by the time that alliance bomb dropped in their laps?

Archer makes a soft annoyed sound at the comment and crosses his arms, head dipping with a slight, smug expression. “That’s one way of putting it,” he responds, though among the acrid tone, there’s a tiny hint of pride. “Saber.” He’d say Saber’s master was by far the stranger of the two, but his Master had accepted the truce… so moot point. He’s still not fond of the blonde-haired Servant despite his curiosity towards his fate.

“I don’t see that we have much a choice.” He turns to face the other male, lifting his head to scan him over. Now that they aren’t drawing blades on each other, he has a chance to look at Saber with eyes that aren’t ready to slay… Mostly. They can’t break into a fight here without their Masters coming in and berating them. “But when that time comes, I won’t be holding back.”

He hears that twitch of irritating in the other’s voice and he’s not about to let it go unaddressed. There’s indeed tension here and the very aura drifting off his black and red clad body seems to rise and press against sparking energy of the man across from him. “Think you can handle that?”

[knightedking]

Truthfully, Saber has no leg to stand on when it comes to being offended about projected hostility when he hasn't been able to fully temper his own, so Archer's standoffish combativeness makes sense both in context and in specific relation to him.

And yet, the like-for-like reaction puts Saber unreasonably on edge as his jaw tenses, his shoulders squaring and his spine straightening under Archer's stare. The due provocation makes an irritated smile creep across his lips as he draws in a deep breath through his nose in an attempt to reign in the steadily building energy he can feel under his skin just from being in proximity to the other Servant.

Normally he'd be so able to disregard and avoid this kind of posturing, but this time he feels it creeping up his back in a way that he just can't resist.

"Oh? Thank you for that promise. It'll be interesting to see what you can do when you're not resting on your laurels," he can feel how petty this is--Bedivere would chide him if he'd ever caught Arthur being such a brat--and he flashes a mock-charming smile. "It certainly explains a great deal."

He dares to take another step closer though, not caring at all for the few inches of height Archer has on him as he narrows his eyes slightly, the forced smile remaining in place. "I can assure you, there is nothing you could bring, on or off the battlefield, that I would not be able to handle.

"Can you--" And knowing that it's an invasion of personal space, he extends his hand with a gesture like his knuckle is going to trace the line of Archer's throat before it comes to land a light tap against his chest instead. "--say the same for yourself?"

[selfdenial]

He’s actually more at ease with the hostility in the room. To have a Servant so readily accept an alliance with someone who’s supposed to kill them would be even more disconcerting than this hesitant glance at trust. After all, who knows who’s going to backstab first? Getting close or letting a guard down is asking for trouble.

Archer senses that his reaction’s getting on the blonde Servant’s nerves. And honestly, he’s just fine with that. A white brow arches towards his swept-up hair as Saber broadens his shoulders and straightens up. Hoh? This bravado’s amusing. Pointedly, Archer doesn’t do anything to respond to that, remaining the same casual stance, as if he’s anything but threatened by the actions. If he were closer to the wall, he’d be leaning against it. Yes, he’s doing it on purpose.

Hn, what’s this guy smiling about? The black-armored Servant frowns a little at that irritating smile, almost tasting the energy Saber’s trying to reign in.

The Greek-related idiom earns a tiny huff of backhanded amusement. “How satirical, coming from the likes of you.” The legendary King who lounges on the praise and adoration of his people. Archer might have said more, but that flash of a faux-amiable smile makes silence a better option.

Another step and they’re practically front to front, their difference in height readily apparent. Archer pointedly looks down at the younger Servant, steel eyes narrowing slightly to meet the royal blue below. “Be careful, brat,” he murmurs, tone deepening a tich and a hint of caution and threat playing into his voice.

Archer blinks when that hand lifts and… Did he really just knock him against the chest with his fist? He looks down at the hand and then back to Saber. Before the stern expression melts into a wry smile that’s anything but comrade-in-arms. “You’re exposing chinks in your armor, Saber.” He lifts his own hand and lightly knocks the blonde’s to the side with the back of it.

Before walking past him, purposefully bumping his shoulder against Saber’s as he heads for the red-covered couch in the room, unceremoniously turning and slouching upon it once he reaches the edge. “And I have good aim with an arrow.” He crosses one ankle over the other knee, lounging as he fixes the blonde with a smug expression.

[knightedking]

Saber had considered before what an interesting Servant Archer was and how his nature was a tricky one to pin down. While it was true that Servants had their own desires and motivations in the abstract, it was also true that those interests could easily pale in relation to that of their Master. Never the less, a sliver of what was in it for the Servant often remained, and Archer kept that matter close to his chest. Though truthfully, at this stage it felt hypocritical for Saber to be judgemental of that when he wasn't exactly forthcoming with personal motivation himself.

Archer's casual scorn at Saber's light dig was of no real consequence or surprise though, and in fact, being called a brat was far more of a reason for Saber to arch an eyebrow and breath out a soft, amused snort as Archer's hand drew up to swipe his own away.

"How nostalgic,” Saber drawled, not terribly concerned by the mild counter-jibe at all. “I'd almost forgotten the last time someone called me that."
He held Archer’s gaze, steady and true—the image of a true knight, even if his tongue felt more limber than it might under other circumstances.

Accepting the impact to his shoulder as the other Servant swept past with merely a slightly squaring to offset the blow, Saber held his gaze in the spot where Archer had stood for several seconds, his expression impassive in the face of Archer’s goading about points of weakness being exposed. Drawing in a deep breath through his nose and then turning to catch the end of Archer settling down upon the couch.

"Is that so? Well then, on both counts I expect you to take your shots as you see fit. We will see how effective they will be if they hit their mark."

He cocks his head to the side, staring at Archer at a slightly downward angle over his cheekbones.

"But what will you do if your Master and mine decide on a true truce and that we aren't to cross one another on the battlefield again in this war. Will you be disappointed?"

[selfdenial]

Archer preferred it that way; his identity wasn’t anything anyone needed to know about in this War. Not even his own Master knew who he was and Archer had a fractured memory as well, due to the strange events of his summoning. As for his goals compared to that of his Master’s, well… he wondered, for a sarcastic, internal moment, what Saber would think if he were to find out the Archer-class in front of him’s reason for fighting in this war revolved entirely around the opportunity to murder one person for the sole intention of erasing his own self from his loathsome existence. Hah, an amusing joke of a thought there.

He settled his arms in a long stretch outward over the back of the couch, nonchalantly letting his hands dangle over the edge of the rim, one in front and in view, and one over the back, hidden. “Hn. Maybe you shouldn’t trust your memories then.” A subtle dig to both Saber’s Master’s ability to summon correctly and the possibility that the blonde warrior was called a “brat” far more often than he recalls. Of course, Archer’s well aware he was speaking blindly. Who knew? … Who cared?

His shoulder still felt the impact from its brush against Saber’s, less from damage and more from their energies and bodies physically clashing. Still, despite his mocking tone, if he was to be partnered up with this guy, Archer had no intention of letting him carry on with exposing vulnerable chinks in that impressive armor. He didn’t want to deal with a partner that would only impeded his progress and efficiency.

The darker Servant narrowed his eyes and met the lighter warrior’s gaze with a focused expression. “I don’t miss my mark unless I want to.” Let that be interpreted as a threatening promise or taunting arrogance. Saber would just have to wait and find out whether Archer was bluffing… or if he was fatally true. The other question, however, earned a blink of surprise and he leaned back on the couch. But it was only there for a moment before the Servant openly scoffed at the notion.

“Don’t be stupid.” He locked eyes with the other warrior once more, the unspoken reminder remaining hard as steel in his eyes. “There’s only one Grail. Only one wish.” With a derisive sound, he closed his eyes and waved one of his hands dismissively, head canting with a mocking expression. “We’re only allies until our Masters’ uses for each other end. At which point, we’ll be ordered to kill each other and fight for our individual Master’s right to have their wish.”

So there was no threat of being “disappointed” in regards to their inevitable clash. Of course, there was the unprecedented possibility that one of their Masters could feign desiring nothing and surrender their chance at the Grail to the other Master, but he knew all too well no one was that selfless. “Disappointed?”

[knightedking]

The jab at whether Saber's memories were reliable or not simply won a soft chuckle, a kind of genuine amusement that bubbled lightly in his chest as Saber ducked his head. There was no point in either clarifying Archer's speculation nor rising to the bait, especially when Saber had opted to put forward a haziness around the events of the last Grail War he was summoned for, informing his Master that the details were difficult to recall and the process of coming and going through various plains of existence had caused ruptures in his memory.

It was a lie. A white lie, but still a lie. That past war... Well. It only needed dwelling on insofar as he did not wish to repeat it. And he didn't feel in the mood to confide in Archer now, nor did he feel the slight was poised acutely enough toward his Master to warrant a stark defense.

There was truly a kind of nostalgia around the name-calling though as Saber's mind went briefly to Merlin before he lifted his eyes again to regard Archer's limbs sprawling across his seat, watching the coiled strength in the other Servant's muscles and drawing to mind his form and poise in combat. As much as this man got under Saber's skin, there was no denying that he was incredibly strong and skilled, even by the standards of a Heroic Spirit. And his assessment of the status of the Grail was not wrong in Saber's mind in principle either, but he had so many internal reservations about the matter as a whole.

"The Grail is a poisoned chalice," he replied coolly, an arm moving to dispel his armor in favour of more comfortable attire--waistcoat, shirt, tie and slacks--before turning his gaze away.

"So no, I am not disappointed. Not by your prediction of what lies ahead anyway, as I won't allow you or your Master to obtain it. After all--"

He glanced back at Archer then, his shoulders slackening a little as a small, wry sort of smile touched his lips.

"--I value a true future for my Master and yours more than any wish either of them could be searching for in the bottom of the Grail. And more than yours. For that reason, if you are correct, then I expect you to fight with absolute conviction. As I will. What would be disappointing about that?"

[selfdenial]

Hn. That wasn’t a result he quite expected. Then again, Saber’s countenance was admirably settled. They were, after all, more similar than he’d like to admit in certain areas. Unlike the other Saber he’d encountered. Still, even if the jab didn’t get him any amusing response, it nevertheless informed him that his new partner was someone who wouldn’t fly off the handle if he perceived slight insult or threat to his Master. He knew next to nothing about Saber’s relationship with his Master, but considering his own sometimes-contentious Master-Servant relationship, he had little room to judge. So long as they worked well together and didn’t get in his way.

As for what he and Saber had together… that was entirely built on nothing more than a few clashes in battle and antagonism before this sudden merger had them thrown in the same room together with the single rule of “Play nice” floating over their heads. Archer doubted this was “playing” in any degree, but they were at least being civil with each other. And Saber was most likely exploring and noting Archer’s personality and attitude, what of it he displayed, as much as Archer was him.

Archer’s expression narrowed slightly, a soft sound of curiosity appearing at the sudden swerve of topic. The Grail being a poisoned chalice? He figured as much early on, but had yet to find someone who so readily professed that hidden truth. The sudden removal of armor was also a small surprise, though admittedly, Archer gave the blonde silent acknowledgment for making the atmosphere less tense with that move. It would be a lie to say Saber was unattractive. Not just looks-wise, but his skill and prowess, despite their assault against him, were impressive enough to earn a silent respect. If not rushing excitement within his bloody, mana-filled veins.

“You’re making a bold claim. My Master has a wish for the grail and if she orders it, I will obey. By force if not choice.” They were, after all, still Servants. And Archer knew well enough how stubborn his Master was. “If it comes to that, I won’t allow you to stop her.” Though considering the Grail’s true nature, if he Master found out about that truth, he doubted Saber’s determination in destroying the Grail would have much opposition.

“Hn, presumptuous of you to think I have a wish for the Grail.” That was more revealing than he’d exposed before to the other Servant, but since Archer wasn’t going to confirm or deny that hinting comment, moot point. As he let his hand drop down to the couch again, he dismissed the holy shroud from his body. The red coverings over his arms, shoulders, and upper chest vanished as if unraveling into nowhere, as did the long crimson fauld below his waist. It left him in only his black torso armor, pants, and boots, exposing the Servant’s muscular arms and the very reason why those blows clashing against Saber’s blade and the tension of a drawn-back bow had hit so hard in the first place. In his own way, he offered a casual side as well.

[knightedking]

The metaphorical ground that Archer gave with regards their mutual dropping of armour was a surprise to Saber and he made no show of disguising that as he blinked at the other Servant before giving a pleased little noise along with his retiring smile.

Unlike his counterpart, Arthur Pendragon was formal and upright only in certain circumstances and otherwise his speech and attitude was generally genial, playful, even. Sometimes even a little flirty.

"Ah! How about that! Even removing your outer armour you don't look any more relaxed!"

Like he was one to talk after selecting a suit for his 'dressing down' between them. What he really meant though was that Archer didn't look unprepared for combat, even like that.

He stepped to the side then, taking his time to give the other Servant a wide berth without offering any further commentary for several seconds so for a time only his movings footsteps could be heard.

Finally though, he came to a pause at the head of the couch. He could have found somewhere else to settle, but he evidently decided that the arm of the sofa at the end closest to Archer was where he was going to lean his lower back against and cross his arms. It was a bit rude, actually, coming to stand closer but not look at Archer as he spoke, ostensibly, to him.

The air in the space between them felt more static than he was expecting it to. Maybe, foolishly, Arthur had thought that by changing his attire and drawing nearing as they 'chat' that the animosity energy would start to deplete, but for his own part that was clearly not the case.

"A Servant without a wish, huh. Perhaps we are more alike I'd thought after all," he mused aloud before turning his head slightly to flash a bit of a grin.

"And I appreciate the compliment: I don't think I would have gotten very far, in life or after it, without being bold," he knew it wasn't meant as praise at all, but as much as Archer was trying to find his nerves, Saber was trying to find his.

Cocking his head slightly, Saber watches Archer quietly from that odd, but closer angle, regarding the details of his face and the lines of his neck rolling down to his neck. It was a little distracting, especially now with the removal of the additional layers that allowed a few more glimpses of skin and further indication of the definition of his body. Distracting...

"Are you concerned about your Master's safety? In regards to what I have just shared of my own intentions toward the Grail, I mean."

[selfdenial]

He was a jerk, but Archer knew how to behave civilly if the situation (or he) wanted to. While the jousting with Saber’s ideals and personality was amusing, it wouldn’t do either of them all that good to keep talking while decked out in full warrior’s garb. The constant reminder of battle if their conversation got heated, not to mention their still-irritable energies, would only create an eventual powder keg and spark. The smile he got from Saber in return for it was agreeable at least. As for the comment…

“Forgive me for not stripping down to my shorts,” was the sarcastic reply. To get totally relaxed, clothing-wise, around Saber at the moment was definitely not happening. “I could put on a suit and tie if you want.” Not that he intended to at all, considering his casual wear outside of his normal black and red was a simple black buttons down shirt and slacks. He preferred the casual to the formal. But yes, he got the underlying message and his answer also spoke to it. He was going to be prepared for combat until something definite told him otherwise.

Though, to Saber’s credit, their talking and the blonde’s demeanor was doing good work and knocking down Archer’s initial distrust and hostility. Apparently, he wasn’t that bad of a guy after all…

Archer’s brow lifted toward his hairline when Saber’s wanderings around the couch ultimately settled on the arm closest to the black-clad Servant’s lazy lounge. With his back facing him though. The rude position coupled with their previous commentary was both surprising and amusing. Were Archer another kind of person, he might have chucked one of the couches fine, satin pillows at the back of that blonde head. Unfortunately, he was too much a prick to consider such a childish thing.

Plus the energy-charged air probably would’ve been set off if he had. While they might not be in such a tense state as to clash blades out at the drop of a wrong word, Archer wouldn’t put it past either of them to threaten or go for fisticuffs. True, he had considered the change of attire to suggest something might have settled, but now that Saber was so close to him, it was obvious that didn’t change much of anything. So he purposefully eyed the other Servant, paying attention to his body and outline he could see as Saber’s clothes framed him. As much as knowing an opponent’s skills and weapons could help, physical weaknesses were nothing to discount.

“Is your wish not to destroy the Grail though?” he murmured. Even if Saber intended to kick over and smash the Sacred Cup, that still insinuated a wish on his part. “To protect the future?” The grin earned a slight blink of surprise at being given such an expression, but he waived aside the gratitude for his “compliment” since it had been anything but when he’d said it. A charmer with sarcastic optimism, that’s what Saber was being.

He realized a second later that those blue eyes were studying him as well, from his face to his neck to where the black armor of unknown material covered his torso. Typical for an archer, he left his arms bare without his shroud, but then again, typical for a knight, Saber left nothing but his face and upper neck uncovered. He knew the other was strong, but he’d be lying if he told himself he was uninterested in seeing Saber’s physique. On a purely judgmental, data-gathering basis.

“Destroying the Grail won’t harm my Master, so long as she’s clear of the blast and resulting… whatever the result will be.” Since who knew. “She’ll be at most disappointed and frustrated.” Since his Master wasn’t the Grail and Saber only had intentions of destroying the Grail, Archer saw no reason why the Servant’s actions would endanger his Master.

“But if she wishes to fight for the Grail and you threaten her safety, I’ll put an arrow through your heart.”

[knightedking]

This time, in response to Archer's sarcasm, Saber didn't chuckle, at least not overtly. He tilted his head a little more, amusement shining in his bright green eyes as a sly smile drew his lips upward.

"Shame," he tutted teasingly to Archer dismissing the possibility of him stripping down outright. There was a lot of heavily ladened but ambiguous implication in that single word of Saber's along with his tone of voice, simultaneously factitious and tempting with the smoothness of its delivery.

After a backwardly cast look at Archer that clearly lingered more than was necessary, the knight turned his head away once more, partly to obscure the darker expression that fell across his face on the matter of the war.

"I'm not interested in the Grail. Nor do I want to harm your Master. I find tactics like assassinating Masters dishonourable."

There was more to the Grail than simply the shape of it. In fact, the belief that the Grail was a singular item itself was a farce upon a farce. That wasn't a rabbit hole that Saber wanted to venture down immediately though if he could help it--his discovery of the truth of the Grail had been a sour and agonising experience.

Here though, he ducked his head with a soft chuckle through his nose at Archer's threat.

"But you care about your Master too, so that's good. I'd rather settle this between ourselves alone if it really comes to that."

With a back glance, he smirked a little as he added.

"Besides, your Master is very cute and I wouldn't want to see harm come to her. It's understandable that you be so taken with her enough to threaten to break my heart to avenge her!"

Oh yes, he was absolutely aware of being a little shit here, but if Archer couldn't handle a bit of ribbing then Saber would indeed have reason to be disappointed in him.

[selfdenial]

Archer quirked a brow again. He didn’t miss that subtle tease in the other’s voice, threaded in through the smooth tone. What was that getting at? Simply stating a wry fact or was he trying to deliberately tempt him into something… There was no mistaking the amused shine within those green eyes of his. Archer wasn’t stupid; he caught the implication and his mind instantly connected that to a thought.

“Oy.” Maybe it was that sly smile or the look over the blonde’s shoulder that lingered longer than it should have. Whatever it was, the taller Servant felt something distinctively different than antagonism spark through his blood and body. Something that’d be considered extremely inappropriate for two Servants to do together. Usually something like that was reserved between Masters and Servants (if it came down to being necessary like that).

But the opening faded somewhat as the topic swung back to the ominous as War once again fell into their laps. “You are interested in it,” he countered. “Because if you want to destroy it, you have to get it first. And you’re willing to kill to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands.” For all of Saber’s chivalry and confident attitude, Archer had felt that determination during their clashes. It wasn’t until now that he knew where the intent came from.

At least they were in somewhat agreement with assassinating Masters. Archer wasn’t morally opposed to it, as to him, it was simply another way to win if his Master decided it a good route to go. But he wouldn’t resort to such a tactic first hand. Even if his goal in this was was to kill a certain Master. But that had nothing to do with winning the War or the Grail. Archer kept the comment inside, not wanting to get into the topic. They had their own opinions on it and it wasn’t worth arguing about.

The notion that he cared about his Master earned a narrowed eye and a slight scowl. Che, was that what he was portraying? He was loyal to her and true, she’d cast that ridiculous Command Spell on it right off the bat to make him more subservient to her (since he had no intention of serving her upon their initial meeting and vocally expressed such a thing). But did he really “care” for her like a friend or comrade?

Or were they simply allied for their current circumstances? Well, considering what he’d just told Saber… Hn, he’d have to think on it. “Servants shouldn’t be going behind their Master’s backs to settle personal vendettas,” he retorted, though his tone suggested he didn’t hold to a word of that. He’d already done things behind his Master’s back she had no business knowing of.

“What did you say?” Archer sat upright, shoulders twitching as he stared/glared at the other Servant with open incredulous surprise. Honestly, he wasn’t sure which was suddenly more ticked about. Saber calling his Master cute (what the hell are you thinking, blondie?). Or blatantly suggesting Archer himself was taken with her! That was completely ignoring the whole aspect of going out for revenge if she got hurt. His surprise muted into a glare and he leaned back against the couch again.

“Bastard.” For getting under his skin. He huffed irritably and closed his eyes. “I doubt you’re any different in your loyalties.”

[knightedking]

If asked, Arthur would probably try to avoid a direct answer, but the truth was that he preferred this mode of interaction with people--light and easy in a way that showed off moments of humanity and individual personalities. The things worth protecting, in his mind. But the fortunate thing was it was such a specific thing to enjoy about people and interacting with them that Saber didn't really need to fret that he might be asked about it one day unless someone was especially observant and had started to see the way he really conducted himself regarding others.

The sound Archer made to the light flirtation won a small, satisfied smile from Saber, though rather than tease Archer any further about that point he lifted his head to stare at the ceiling and allowed his amusement to linger on his face.

"I never said I wanted to destroy it. That's just your presumption of things."

He decided then that was all he was willing to say about the Grail for now, especially considering that Archer's visceral reaction to Saber's comments about his Master were far more interesting. His shoulders rose as he chuckled, then he turned to look at Archer directly, intentionally drawing his face close to Archer's to look him in the eye with a playful smile.

"Whose chinks in their armour are showing now, Archer?"

[selfdenial]

Archer made a soft growling sound as the other Servant laughed at him, a sliver to teeth showing when Saber leaned in close to him. Far closer than they’d willingly gotten personally in civil moments before. The last time he’d been this close to the other man’s face was when a pair of metal swords were gritting sparks against Saber’s blade in a shivering X two inches below their chins. Maybe it wasn’t entirely different right now either…

“Shut up. You’re not my Master’s type.”

Though, power-wise, Saber was. His Master had desired to summon the Saber-class servant from the start and Archer didn’t put it past her to try and claim Saber as her own if the opportunity presented itself further down the line. Which, considering what Archer now knew of Saber’s thoughts, possibly posed a problem.

True, he’d only mentioned wanting to prevent his Master and Archer’s from obtaining it. But… “What do you plan to do, Saber? Guard the Grail from being possessed for all eternity?” His tone dropped to something sardonic and almost mocking, but there was a serious edge to his question. Something that went a lot deeper. He knew the results of thinking it would be possible to protect something forever. Having experienced something of the sort himself and grown so disillusioned with the results, Archer had no intention of watching someone foolishly attempt to do the same thing to themselves. “No one can do anything forever.”

Presumptuous as it was, Saber intended to do something with the Grail he’d allow no one to claim.

[knightedking]

It wasn't a surprise that Archer wanted to press Saber for more specific answers about what he proposed to do about the Grail, but the fact that he was being asked didn't mean that he was obligated to give the other Servant an answer. He had given plenty already, enough to give shape to his perspective on the war and enough to give Archer something to speculate over.

He didn't move back as either of Archer's comments, keeping their faces close together and feeling, like Archer, the extent to which they hadn't been this near to one another since their meetings on the battlefield which were strikingly different to this. And not at the same time. Saber couldn't figure out what kind of hero Archer was, what his life had been like, what his experiences had been. He couldn't work out if he was a jaded optimist or what his relationship to other people had been when he was alive. He couldn't tell if anyone had spoken to him in the way Saber had, intentionally trying to run words under his skin. There was a lot buried under those slate-coloured eyes.

"Am I not?" he asked casually, his hands resting palm-down upon the arm of the chair to not only steady himself, but make it clear he had no intention of moving away just yet. "That's a pity. Of course, for all you know she could be my type."

Saber selected his words more carefully than he might otherwise let on--leaving intentional footholds to grasp onto while leaving an other, perhaps more truthful routes, hidden purely through misdirection. Outright lying was not gallant, but careful avoidance was something different.

"If she were, would it bother you?"

[selfdenial]

He knew further questioning ran the possibility of hitting a brick wall. Were that the case, fine. He was content to wait and see what developed. The Archer class, after all, was known to improvise and think on their feet. Both of them had already revealed plenty in this short time, about their stance on the war, potential plans for the future, and even glimpses into their goals. Enough for them to think over this new alliance, how it might possibility work out and benefit them, and plan for its potential, or inevitable, dissolution.

Saber had given Archer plenty to think of.

Though he wondered why the other Servant wasn’t getting out of his face. He’d already made his point and Archer’s brows furrowed slightly as annoyance—and curiosity—began to pique inside him. He focused on Saber’s face since it was there, taking in the angle of his brows and the green of his eyes like the sea. Blonde hair that was far more flaxen that another Archer’s golden, but remarkably similar in style when down. Honestly, if Archer didn’t sweep his own up and back, they’d probably have similar styles. There were things he didn’t know about Saber, obviously, but he could definitely take in what he knew and could find out presently. Even if they weren’t exchanging blows or words, there were ways to show things and see them. He’d find out more in time.

“Ask her for the details,” he retorted, reaching up and folding his arms to rest his hands behind his head, fingers laced together. If Saber wasn’t going to move away, fine. He could play a game of chicken. Archer shot the Saber-class a wry eye, one corner of his mouth quirking for a second. “Somehow I doubt it. She’s not one that likes chivalrous protection.” (At least not admittedly, though Archer did suspect that deep down, his Master had her own feminine streak and romantic side.)

“Depends on what you did. If you interfere with her safety and goals, I might consider kicking you out of the house.”

[knightedking]

"Hm..." Saber hummed softly, his eyes momentarily shifting away from Archer's face as he adjusted himself on the couch, opening up a clear line of sight to the other man's chest in that snug, black material. He left the sound there like a stone sinking into water before slowly lifting his eyes again to peer into Archer's face.

As calmer as Saber had forced himself to be, at this proximity, in this context, and in talking to Archer this way, he found that the energy that had been crackling earlier hadn't left, it had just changed form, like water into ice or steam; substantially the same, but different.

"You're starting to think of me as chivalrous. Not long ago you were calling me a brat."

Cocking his head lightly, Saber folded his forearms over one another on the arm of the chair, lowering his height slightly but maintaining his distance in relation to Archer.

"Who knows what you'll think of me when you get to know me just a little better..."

[selfdenial]

Archer canted his head to the side just slightly when Saber’s eyes dropped from his face to his chest. The armor definitely molded to the shapes underneath, silver lining roughly outlining his muscular. With the other’s eyes averted, Archer let his own do a light flick towards the smaller Servant’s throat, where the hem of his collar blocked any view of what may lay beneath it. What was with that hum anyways…

“I consider those two interchangeable,” Archer retorted dismissively. Which, honestly, he did. Honor was a fickle thing and in reality, most warriors would be wise to focus on their goals rather than attempt to adhere to strict rules that others didn’t hold to. It ended up being detrimental to their success and oftentimes made them come across as egotistical, stuck up brats. See? Direct correlation in his opinion.

As Saber lowered a little, but kept that distance—what little of it there was—between them, Archer offered a single breath of amusement. “True, if this alliance is in our future, I might have to reconsider my opinion of you.” But that’s all he was giving him. That reconsidering could go both ways: positive or negative. As for what Saber thought of him, Archer didn’t really care one way or another of people’s opinion of him. He had better things to concern his attention with.

“I assume knightly chivalry says little about personal space?” Just to jibe him something random.

[knightedking]

There was no intentional move on Saber's part to emulate the gesture of armour or keep himself hidden. In other times he might caught in something more dressed down and actually casual, like a t-shirt and dark jeans. But not here and now, not while he and Archer still had their lines in the sand drawn and it was unclear where each would be standing as the days of the war rolled on.

"I don't think I'm in a position to ask for anything more than that at this stage."

Archer's poke made Saber arch an eyebrow, though with a sense of deeply subdued surprise--as though he's entirely not surprised to be asked that question, or one like it.

It was enviable that the two of them were trying to suss the other out in a variety of different ways. And while he knew better--should know better--something about Archer made him want to press more, find points of entry and push not necessarily to harm but to see what other expressions he could draw on the other man's face. Or something else.

And the opening was there, or at least a crack, that he wanted to see how much further he could tug it free and see what was beneath it. It felt partly combative, partly gravitational, something else entirely.

"Personal space isn't in opposition to any knight's code I know of," he shifted his weight then, drawing one hand free and extending it toward Archer.

"But if you're bothered by this--"

In a gesture that mirrored how he made contact with him earlier, except this time it seemed like he was going to touch his knuckle to Archer's chest first and instead, it traveled up, daringly brushing the curve of the other man's throat.

"--you could tell me to move."

[selfdenial]

His mind wandered during the few moments of silence. What exactly were their Masters discussing out there? Or wherever they were. At least, he tried to focus on that but kept finding himself coming back to the Servant leaning in so close to him. The chivalrous brat. This could have gone another direction, with the two of them sitting in here in silence and waiting for the awkward moments to pass by. Admittedly, he had to give Saber credit for breeching conversation. Even if Archer knew he could be a stoic wall at times. This was kind of pleasant, though he’d never admit it.

“Hn, you’d know more about that than I would.” He liked to keep his space initially, having dealt with people enough to find a lot of their prattling annoying. Most people tended to live without a lot of connection to reality. Or chose to turn a blind eye to certain subjects they should be concerned with. He’d seen a lot of people throughout his life. Having faith in them was difficult… though he might be speaking more from an introspective point of view. After all, at one time, far in his memories, in an era he’d all but forgotten, he’d been one of those same people.

The kind that didn’t miss when someone else was purposefully trying to nettle him. Archer made a wry face as Saber moved slightly and then leaned back, averting his head only slightly as that hand reached for him. Not because he had any issue, but mostly because he wanted to be a prick. He remembered Saber’s initial touch earlier on, the clunk of his knuckle against his chest, the connection of his hand against the other Servant’s.

“Who says I’m bothered…” But this time… Warmth seemed to glow on his skin for a second before bare flesh connected with the curve of his throat. Almost instantly, the energy in his blood came alive, responding to the mana if Saber’s body and the warmth it gave off in a rush. Visible red sparks flickered into existence around them for a moment, snapping in hair-thin coils of electricity about shoulders and arms. Archer’s eyes narrowed a little and he quietly tilted his head back, subtly exposing more of his dark-skinned throat to the other Servant. “Are you always so eager to touch?” he murmured, eyes lingering on the green across from him, but this time, without the guarded snapping defense. Admittedly, this touch was obviously better than a fist swinging for his face.

[knightedking]

Now that was unexpected.

The moment of shock that swept up into Saber's face was genuine and unguarded as the figurative crackling became literal. It wasn't just Archer's veins that surged with power in that moment, but Saber's too in a way that made it hard to tell where Archer's mana ended and his own began, and maybe that was the way mana always was meant to be--sprawling and siphoning in and over itself until anchored down and applied to something, or someone.

The breath caught in his throat slowly began to slowly slip free through his teeth and for several moments he was entirely still before Archer's voice began to filter back into his consciousness. As he began to refocus, every nerve felt alight and alive, buzzing rapidly under his skin and his chest pounding. It probably wasn't just the mana contact alone either, but something in the mana it flowed out from.

The hand lingering at Archer's throat hovers between pulling away and something else, but the playful teasing streak has been shelved in favour of something harder and serious, his expression becoming more resolute as if his mind had set on something he'd be wavering on.

"No," he answered truthfully. Arthur was not always eager for contact, even if he didn't mind giving it. In this context though he wanted to touch Archer. More than just touch, but touching was a start.

The wavering hand moved again, the lingering embers of the mana burst that leaving Saber feeling bold and impulsive as his hand grasped the back of Archer's head to close the scant distance between them and pressing his lips against Archer's abruptly.

[selfdenial]

He blamed the constant tension of their auras throughout their meeting. Always flaring, yet held close, and finally, when a single spark of mutual mana happened to come close enough, everything came out in a rush. Archer wasn’t sure he controlled it any more than it occurred spontaneously. But what he did know, was that it happened the moment Saber touched him. A thrill of battle? The reaction to being touched? Or something else? The combined power joined, entwined, touched, and melded for that brief moment between two Servants and Archer swore there was some exchange among them.

And it wasn’t wholly unwelcomed.

Who knew. Maybe serendipitous fate had it that their Masters reached and closed an official alliance the moment their two Servants finally connected. Wouldn’t that be a stupidly coincidental event… But it was worth it to see the surprise arc through Saber’s face and hear the breath catch in his throat. Even if he was a little annoyed at himself for finding something pleasurable about that touch as well. His body felt tingly, skin tightening over his muscles before relaxing despite his rapid heartbeats.

Shit, it wasn’t just their energies no matter what he protested inside. Minutes upon minutes of listening to this “brat” and studying his features as he stayed so close to him, trading conversations and for all intents and purposes, mingling with Saber to the point that his built up mélange of curiosity, antagonism, frustration, amusement, and everything else finally snapped in one brief moment.

Archer tilted his head back down slightly, eyes narrowed as he came face to face with those serious eyes across from him. There was resolution and in a moment, he knew what was going to happen. That momentarily consideration from so long ago came back to his mind in full glamor. “Good.” There would be no denying the deeper sound of his voice, an almost-hidden rumble in his chest He’d have been irked if this had indeed been the normal for Saber.

As soon as he felt the blonde’s hand move, he unlaced his fingers and pulled his arms down, just in time to feel the other Servant grasp the back of his head and pull forward. He could have resisted… but hell with it. Archer returned the connection, pressing his mouth heatedly to the other Servant’s in a quiet, but intense action. The sparks of mana from earlier quickly flared up again, winding about Saber’s body in a spiraling exploration as Archer wrapped his fingers around the other Servant’s tie and gave it a mild tug forward. The kiss broke, but only to breathe, lips brushing the blonde’s as he spoke. “Any knightly codes about this?”

[knightedking]

There was something to be said for the way flammable material caught flashed alight at the smallest hint of a flame to latch onto, and perhaps that was what the air between Saber and Archer had been waiting for--just the smallest spark to light up all the crackling points between them.

Maybe it was the meeting of Archer's energy coupling with Arthur's own magical core that churned out magical energy at an alarming rate from the dragon-fused blood pumping through his body. He could blame this, the unusual clash of power held within their respective bodies, but it would be both a poor excuse and a somewhat dishonest one; it was potentially a factor, but it was Archer himself who was the source.

The shift in Archer's voice answering Arthur's own was enough to give the confirmation of something he had suspected--that he was not the only one aware and attentive to the tension between the two of them. And not only that, Archer even seemed willing to welcome the gesture of grasping that tension by the proverbial horns.

Saber certainly wasn't expecting the other Servant to remain stationary either, though he couldn't have said ahead of time who he imagined Archer was going to react to being kissed. Saber was not disappointed by either the intensity or the rush of heat produced by his own eagerness clashing with Archer's--just like their energies did. And the sensation of that heat and magic roaring against one other from each of them was enticing and intoxicating, his fingers tightening in the back of Archer's hair in conjunction with the yank on his tie which draws a small murmur of surprise against the other man's lips before their brief separation for air.

Eyes darkened and securely focused on Archer's face as he spoke, Saber couldn't even draw humour from the cocky comment the pours warmly against his lips from Archer's own. He's normally find that a lot more amusing, but in this case Archer's words simply caused a short rolling of the king's eyes and a low half-huff, half-growl as Saber pressed in to claim the other's mouth again with more depth and intent. He leant his upper body in too, one knee braced against upon the arm of the couch where his own hands had previously laid. If Archer wasn't going to push him away, then Saber was going to advance.

[selfdenial]

In a way, his was slightly relieved. Tension was fine with him, considering it often lived in it despite his laid-back demeanor. But at a time they were supposed to be relaxing and playing nice by their Masters’ orders, it was starting to become an annoyance. The final push and everything went up with a roar. While, he didn’t find the Saber class very amiable to his ideals, it was hard to deny their prowess. And apparently attraction. Dammit, no wonder his Master wished for one.

He wished he could blame this on something else. From pent up feelings to imbalanced mana to some spell his Master cast to be a sneaky insurance of their mutual comradeship. Archer failed, however. He couldn’t truthfully blame anything but his own burgeoning curiosity and damnable, lonely spirit. The touch of the other man’s lips dove into his mind, trying to find something in his shadowed annals of memories that might remember if he’d once held someone like this, had been touched like this… The creator of over a thousand blades. Yet those hands shall never hold anything.

As fingers tightened in the back of his hair, a husked breath rushed from his mouth at the sensation of drawing and pain and pleasure the action caused. Archer tightened his hand around Saber’s tie, almost crushing the material in his palm. Fabric within the tactile sensation of his hand. So different than the leather grip of a blade or bow. The sound of surprise against his lips felt as good as it sounded and his tactical mind’s quick to point out this had nothing to do with battle, nothing to do with his goals. His body, flesh and blood created by magic and mana, just as readily told his mind to shut up.

With a quick fling, he abandoned Saber’s tie and wrapped his fingers instead around the back of the man’s head, cupping blonde hair and the curve of his skull. The tip of his thumb ran over the shell of his ear with a mixture of eagerness to touch again and a marvel that this was what flesh felt like after so long. Steel eyes slowly began to darken from the sensations as he locked gazes with the Servant in front of him, wondering what he’d respond to such a petulant question. And not caring when it earned silence as another kiss claimed his mouth.

He closed his eyes instantly and pressed into the kiss, tightening his grip on the other’s head and pulling him in harder. Deeper, more intently, lips parting and mouth opening as he tilted his head to the side to intensify the kiss. He felt the pressure of the other’s aura against his own, knew without seeing Saber was climbing the couch arm. The Archer-class hero twisted to the side and abruptly leaned back, dragging Saber over the edge of the couch and down onto the cushions with him, long, black clad legs swinging out to knock against the shorter male’s side as he collapsed onto his back.

[knightedking]

For as prime and proper as the suit made Saber look outside of his armour, he didn't seem to care one bit for the crinkling pressure that Archer's palm applied to his tie. Despite the popularised idea of knights in shining armour, the truth was that armour was not for show and what was pristine at a distance showed the signs of wear and tear from battle--scruffs and scratches in steel plating and worn patches on leather straps. There was nothing show pony about Arthur Pendragon, the king whose knights sat with him at a table with no head or end and who rode out to battle alongside them sword in hand. He was not, in other words, worried about creases in his clothes.

It was just as well then that, for the moment, Archer seemed to change tactile direction after assaulting that item of clothing in favour of making grasping contact of his own. Ah. So the distant Archer could be stirred after all. If Saber were more willing to get back in his own head, he might wonder about that a little more, maybe tease a little like the brat Archer had deemed him to be. But in reality being more rational and cerebral wasn't what Arthur wanted in that moment; feelings and sensations over thoughts were fare more preferable.

He allowed himself to be pulled forward. In fact, he found himself pulled forward more than the was initially planning to allow and to compensate, Saber reached out to grasp the back of the couch, catching himself from falling unceremoniously upon Archer as he leant right back. It was a pleasant surprise though, Archer's willingness to accommodate. It made it easier for Saber to draw himself atop the other man, one knee resting between Archer's legs as one dropped to the side to make room as he broke the kiss to look down into the other Servant's face, eyes fixed and firm. He hand shifted then, finger tips tracing down the edge of Archer's jawline to gently but securely hold his chin as he leant in, tongue drawing out the shape of the other man's lip slowly with his tongue. Otherwise though, Saber intentionally kept the rest of their bodies almost entirely free of contact.