Please feel free to leave comments and try to guess who the characters are (the non obvious ones). I ' m definitely happy for any constructive criticism, too. It's how we all get better.
No sex in this chapter. It just didn't happen, no matter how hard I tried. Sometimes there's just gotta be more story first folks. But there'll be some next chapter!
A note on this chapter. The setting in a certain part of this chapter is ambiguous (you'll know when you read it). Both here and in the Arthurian Legends. So I'll keep it ambiguous. Who knows when and where it is. One very important change though. All characters are over 18. I'm also going to - probably awkwardly - call it out in the chapters themselves in those parts because in these tales through history... yeah not so great on that front. So I want to be very explicitly clear.
Content warning; none
Lance woke up with a groan, his head pounding and the pungent smell of sweat, sex and alcohol filling his nostrils. He kept his eyes closed, fighting against the rhythmic thumping in the back of his eyelids. He felt the warm body in bed next to him and the memories of the amazing Gwen filled his mind. It didn't remove the hangover, but he could tolerate it if it meant more of that. Eyes still closed, Lance rolled over and spooned up against her. His morning growth slotted into the crease of her panties, she must have put them on after returning to bed. He reached up with a hand and grasped a breast over the top of a shirt. He felt a nipple harden and a gasp.
"You'd better back the fuck up before I cut off all of those bits that are touching me."
Lance jerked backward, falling out of the bed in his haste and crashing against the floor. He groaned as he felt pain shoot up his shoulder, and opened his eyes to look into the glare of his sister, Morgan.
"Wha-" He paused to hack up a cough, mostly tasting like vodka. "What the hell?"
Morgan stood up out of the bed, an oversized old shirt of some ex-boyfriend clinging desperately to her curves. Lance shook his head and tried to stare her in the eyes. It was immensely difficult. Her nipples still stood out proudly underneath the shirt.
"You're fucking heavy, loser. Plus, I had to smuggle you in without waking mum and dad up. What the hell did you take last night?"
Lance rubbed at his eyes, trying to recall anything more from the party, but came up blank.
"I didn't take anything. You know I wouldn't do that." Lance reached up and rubbed at his shoulder, only to cry out as he felt fiery pain. Looking down, he saw two things. First, he was naked. He quickly reached down with a hand to cover up his manhood, which had thankfully deflated by this point. Morgan just rolled her eyes at him. Worse than the nudity though, was the snaking tattoo that made its way around his shoulder and from the pain probably went some way down his back.
Morgan stared at him with a judgemental look. One he hadn't seen in a long time. "You're telling me that you had a piece of that size done in one night and you weren't on anything? You?"
Lance had real fear in his eyes now while staring down at his shoulder. The head of a serpent was biting into his neck, just around the collarbone. Its large, twisting body worked its way over the corner of his shoulder and wrapped twice around his arm, but didn't emerge. It seemed to shimmer, and staring at it made his hangover a lot worse. He swayed on the spot. Morgan jumped forwards off the bed and caught him before he fell.
"Honestly, Mags I can't remember anything. I went to bed with-" Lance stopped suddenly, blushing. Morgan let him go and he unceremoniously fell to the floor, just managing to hold his own head up so it didn't bang against the ground. When he looked up, she was scowling.
"Yeah I could tell, idiot. You stink. Maybe go upstairs, have a shower and put some clothes on. Then come back down, I'll put some cream on that piece so you don't get infected from whatever dodgy tool you got it from last night." Grinning, Lance jumped up and saluted, forgetting that his hand was covering his junk. Morgan turned her head away and closed her eyes with a disgusted noise. "I wouldn't be too happy, you've got to dodge the parentals or explain why and how you got a tattoo at a party."
Lance's eyes widened, and he covered back up and bolted out of the room. Listening out for their parents, he dodged from doorway to doorway. In some ridiculous nudist version of splinter cell, Lance made it back to his room and immediately winced at the sight of the clothes still scattered around after Morgan's 'reorganising'. Rifling through them at what felt like a rapid pace for the hungover man, he searched for some comfy clothes, looked both ways out of the door and bolted to the bathroom. Once inside, he locked the door and spun to put his back to the mirror, turning his head to try to see what was behind him. The tail of the snake worked its way up across his shoulder blades and looped in a strange infinity symbol before spiking down his spine and becoming a huge sword. As it did so, the infinity symbol formed the cross guard. If it hadn't appeared in a drunken haze after a party, Lance would think it was cool as shit. As it was, it was slightly terrifying. With that fear rattling him the whole time, Lance had his shower.
Making his way back down the hall to the stairs, Lance was stopped suddenly by a hand on his shoulder. "Hold up a minute, Lance." Grimacing, he turned to face his fate.
His father Ben stood solemnly in the hallway, gardening clothes on and covered in dirt and grass clippings. He had clearly been up for hours already. The older man's brown hair streaked with gray was matted atop his head and his face was stony. The only thing that gave away any feelings was the slight raise in one eyebrow as he regarded his son, and maybe some bags under his eyes.
"Good night?"
Lance tried and failed to not blush. Maybe he could pass it off as after-effects of the hot shower. "Yeah... It was ok."
His father frowned and squeezed his shoulder tighter. Thankfully not the same shoulder as the mysterious tattoo. "Listen, Lance. When I was your age-"
"Oh god Dad, please no. I really don't want to talk about this if this is going where I think... Ugh. No." Lance was trying to back away, but his dad's grip was strong. Ben was built like a linebacker. Had been once, in college at least. It was where Lance got his height. A lot of that weight of Ben's was around the stomach now, but the strength never left him.
Ben rubbed his eyes with his other hand and let the grip on Lance's shoulder go. "Fine. Just promise me you're being safe. And you will at least call us if you're going to stay out all night, so your mother doesn't stay up worrying." There was a slight glare there. Lance's parents were pretty cool. They were happy hosting parties and all of Lance and Morgan's friends loved them, but that didn't mean they didn't have rules and expect them to be followed.
Lance bowed his head. His dad probably hadn't got much sleep. "Sorry, dad. Got a bit carried away. I wasn't planning on staying out... it just kind of happened."
"Yeah, well this is a first offence, so we'll let it slide. But next time you're grounded." Ben's voice got a little louder and his eyes moved up over Lance's shoulder. "And so will anyone covering for you." They both heard footsteps rapidly descending the stairs. "Now. I'll say what your Pop said to me when
we
had this chat."
Lance's eyes quickly moved up and he opened his mouth to speak but Ben cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"No I'm not telling you the story. As I was saying... Here's the message. If our phone rings..." He held up his hand and started raising dirt-covered fingers as he listed things. "And it is the police... the hospital... or a girl or her family surprising us with 'news'... There'll be hell to pay."
Lance gulped and tried his best to look innocent.
Fucking idiot.
He thought to himself.
Use a condom. Use a condom. One thing to remember, dipshit.
Then his father's whole demeanor changed as he smiled. "Other than that, have fun. You're supposed to enjoy college." He put his arm around his son, still easily two or three inches taller, and started walking them both down the stairs. "Were there any cute girls there?"
Lance made a disgusted sound and ducked out from the arm as they reached the bottom step and quickly made his way around the corner to Morgan's room. His dad's mocking voice called after him, carrying through the house. "What? Don't tell me it was a sausage fest!"
When Lance finally returned to Morgan's room, she was just finishing laying fresh bedding down. Lance felt much better, the shower having washed away his hangover freshened him up and however awkward that father-son chat was, it was nice that he cared... and hadn't noticed the tattoo. That would have been something else.
"Close the door and take your shirt off, then sit on the bed." Morgan moved to her drawers as Lance did as instructed. She was still wearing the shirt, but now there were clearly shorts and a bra underneath it now. Not that lance looked. Much. She walked back over with a pot of cream.
"Why do you have tattoo cream?"
"Why do you think?" She let her answer hang and leaned in, rubbing a generous amount of the cream into the skin and picture. It warmed the skin wherever it touched, and had a slightly acrid smell. "It's really good work. If you remember, let me know who did it."
"Do you know a Gwen, Mags?"
She continued to put cream on, now around his arm.
"Nope."
"Gonna suck if I can't find a way to contact her."
