a/n: this chapter contains a brief, vaguely described nsfw moment. i will put a warning before it happens and let you know when it's over should you be interested in skipping over it, though it is nowhere near explicit.

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"IT'S HERE," SERA TOLD him. "I promise it is. But we can't get it out until Chalice wakes up. No one else can breathe under water, you'll just have to give it time."

Despite the pain in his feet, Morgana paced back and forth. "We don't have time, Sera. I'll go get that Grail myself."

"Not with those lungs and that arm, you aren't," she told him, fixing him with that irritating glare. "Giselle is stable, the druids know what they're doing. The moment Chalice wakes up, we'll send them for the Grail and we'll figure out how to fix your friend, understand?"

Morgana clenched his jaw. He didn't like any of this. Every second without the a Grail was a second wasted, and his remedies could only do so much to treat Giselle when she was in the thick of the disease. Her skin was cracking already, and he could only pray it didn't ruin her like it ruined him. She deserved to be graceful, she deserved her able body. Morgana didn't mind his own anymore, it was all he knew, but Giselle had every right to run and jump and dance and heaven forbid he let this plague take that from her.

"Morgana?"

It was Kit. He spun around to find him standing there, turned halfway way from him like an idiot, eyes staring into nothing.

He grumbled under his breath and parted from Sera with a vicious side eye sent her way. "You should be sleeping, idiot."

Kit leaned into him the moment he took his muscular arm with his own mangled one. It had since gotten a little better, but it still hurt too much to try to use it or let it loose.

"I could say the same for you. If you're too stubborn to sleep, then so am I."

"If we weren't fighting for the same thing, I'd take this chance to kill you," Morgana murmured. "I hope you know that."

"Naturally," Kit said with a grin. "Where are we going?"

Truth be told, Morgana didn't know the answer to that. He wanted to get away from Sera and now he had his excuse. He was pulling Kit towards the small house they were staying in. No one was inside during the day unless they were sick, so it was quiet when he closed the door behind them.

"It's too loud out there," he said, lowering himself onto the bed. "And bright. I just want to sit by myself in the dark and I don't trust anyone else with you so you're stuck with me. Or I'm stuck with you."

Kit's mouth split open into a proud grin.

"No, absolutely not, don't even bloody start," Morgana said, pushing himself back up onto his feet. "That was not a compliment, you self-centered moron. You're just too stupid for anyone else to handle."

"No need to get defensive," Kit said, lifting up his hands to surrender to the wall next to Morgana. "You said it, not me."

He huffed, falling back down onto the creaky mattress again. "Whatever. I'm babysitting you, that's it. The minute Chalice is awake, I'm going back out there."

"But until then, you're just going to overthink every possible scenario and worry yourself sick, right?" Kit stepped away from the door, feeling his way around awkwardly until he found Morgana and gently lowered himself beside him. "I know you're doing it because I am, too."

Morgana swallowed. Kit was close enough, he could see the stubble returning to his face and the way each of his muscles moved under his skin. He could smell him, the vague oils from the baths the druids insisted they all take to spare their noses. His hair was still damp at the roots, messy in the best way. Oh, how he'd love to make it worse.

Normally, he'd put those thoughts behind him, ignore them, but when his mind was spinning like this, Kit was the one thought he could hold onto long enough to free himself from the rest. And so today, just this once, he let his anxiety fade away with the feeling of his warm skin under his fingertips and his chapped lips against his own, somehow soft despite it all, moving against him like it was what they were made to do.

He didn't know when it started, but soon, their breaths spun together like thread, mouths fighting like words, teeth biting and lips bleeding with their feverish lust. Morgana could get lost in this forever. Even the terrifying possibility of Giselle dying while he was busy shoving his tongue down a rogue prince's throat didn't deter him from the need to fill his stomach with those awful butterflies.

As attractive as Kit's shadow was, it scratched at his cheek when he dug his canines into the soft skin of his neck, pulling a frustrated groan from his throat. He didn't expect it to do anything, but the prince clutched the front of his tunic as soon as the sound left him, and his jaw tipped back obediently.

"Morgana," he started.

He wasn't in the mood to talk. This was the perfect distraction, and one moment without it would send him spiraling again. "No."

"Wait, Morgana," he breathed, gripping his wrist, and he finally stopped, reluctantly pulling his face away from his skin.

He looked down at the hand holding onto him. The urge to pull away was there, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. "Fine, what?"

"Are you using me again?"

Morgana paused. He hated that he knew the answer, and as much as he didn't want to tell him, he owed him that much at least. "I can't think right now, it'll drive me crazy. You keep me from thinking."

"So I'm a distraction."

"Kit..."

"Morgana." His hand loosened around his wrist, but instead of letting it go, he led it to his chest, holding it over his pounding his heart. "I don't mind. If you need this, heaven knows I can't say no to you. Just tell me first, and I'll do what you want."

His breath came out in a shudder, and his eyes locked onto his chest and the buttons of his shirt. They were right there, inches away from his fingers, begging to be torn away to reveal that scarred and beautiful torso he'd never get enough of.

Before he gave into those impulses, though, his mind wandered back to the last two times they tried to get anywhere. Morgana slipped his hand away and stood up, eyes landing on a chest at the foot of the bed. "Don't move."

Kit obeyed, holding perfectly still while he slid the lock into place. He moved the box in front of the door for good measure, pushing it up as close as it went. This time, people would knock at the very least.

"Did you just lock the door?" Kit asked with a grin when Morgana slid into his lap, working at his buttons until all he saw was golden skin and the faint, golden hair that brushed across his chest.

"Good to know your ears still work."

While his good hand explored, Kit took his turn running his lips over Morgana's throat, leaving purple mouth-shaped for the whole world to see. He always glamoured them away anyways, he didn't care how many he left.

Kit's shirt slipped away from his shoulders until his torso was bare, and Morgana's nails traced shapes into his back while gentle breaths of pleasure escaped. It wasn't enough, though, and he moved to untie his own tunic and pull it from the high waistband of his trousers, inviting the prince to explore him back instead of hopelessly clutching at the fabric of his clothes.

He stiffened when he first felt his warm palm at the base of his spine. This wasn't a feeling he was used to, but it felt better than he imagined it ever could.

//nsfw

By the time their lips collided once again, Morgana could feel Kit stirring beneath him. His stomach churned when he realized why, and he pulled back, tugging his lip with his teeth on the way.

"Do you need help with that?"

Kit's breathing was ragged and heavy. "Are you offering?"

"No, I'm just asking in case I need to call Sera in here," he murmured, and Kit gripped his forearm.

"It's not like that anymore, Morgana, I was a kid," he said.

Morgana laughed into his ear, and he could feel him ease up again. "I'm messing with you," he mused. "Yes, I'm offering."

He could see his throat bob up and down, and for once he was glad Kit was blind, because now he had no idea how deeply he was blushing.

"Then yeah, you could help."

Morgana took his time, laying Kit back onto the bed, listening to his sharp inhale at the intimate touch of his frigid, curious fingers. For once, they went undisturbed until they were both a panting mess, too tired to put their shirts back or worry about the small disaster they'd created on the poor druids' sheets.

Thank heaven that Eurion and Chalice were their only roommates. If there was anyone Morgana could stand knowing, it was them.

//nsfw end

"Do you think Chalice is awake?" he asked into Kit's neck.

The prince's warm hand sat beneath his shirt, settled on the small of his back. "They'll let you know, I promise. For now, just relax a little. Giselle will be okay."

So he did. For what felt like hours, Morgana laid there on top of Kit's bare chest, long, messy hair in his face, listening to his heartbeat and trying not to think. This distraction did its job well enough, but nothing could ever completely rid him of the anxiety eating him away.

It wasn't until he could feel his eyes growing heavy, lulled in and out of sleep by the steady rising and falling of Kit's damp, bare chest, that he heard someone approaching the door. There came a knock, and Morgana pushed himself into an upright position, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes.

"Clean up," he told the prince, tossing him his shirt and tucking the hem of his own back into his waistband. He shoved the chest away with his foot and set it against the bed where it was before, pulling back the lock and opening to the door to greet Selene, who looked just as worried and exhausted as he felt.

"They're awake," she said, and Morgana's face lit up. "You get in a fight?"

He blushed, but he didn't care to be bashful now. Chalice was awake, they could fetch the Grail, and Giselle could be cured. "You could say that. Can I see her?"

"Selene?"

Morgana turned his head to Kit, who stood behind him with his white eyes and a terribly buttoned shirt. A knowing look dawned on her face, and he rolled his eyes, gripping the prince by the collar and hauling him out of the house. "Yes, it's Selene. We're going to pay Giselle a visit, please button your shirt correctly."

Selene glanced away when Morgana's fingers fussed with the front of his shirt until it looked less of a disaster, even brushed his fingers through his hair. "I'll just meet you there," she said. "Don't be too long."

They were left alone again, as alone as they could be in Fells, and Kit took his time to fumble with his hands until he was straightening up Morgana's black locks as best he could despite the state of his sight. "Sorry if I pulled it too tight."

"Shut up."

He didn't let the idiot say another word, pulling him along until they were in the same cottage where Morgana stayed all that time ago after he'd been stabbed by the very sword Kit still carried. Giselle was laid as elegantly on the bed as he expected her to be, a true sleeping beauty, and druids surrounded her with flowers and oils and gentle, healing chants.

Morgana could only pray the Gods had any mercy in their hearts for the Sídhe, or their magic would only go so far. Not far enough, he thought.

"Giselle," he whispered, abandoning Kit by the door and settling at the princess's side, taking her hand in his own. She turned her head to him, but her eyes remained closed. Her arm was thoroughly cracked, and he stared l dreaded to think that without the help of the druids, she would not be here. "We're close. We'll have the Grail to you soon, I promise. You're going to get better. I'm going to get you better."

A faery couldn't lie. And Gods, he hoped he wasn't lying.