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literenTitle: The morning after
Fandom: Merlin
Characters: Arthur/Merlin
Words: 894
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In which Arthur tries (and fails) to act nonchalant, Merlin grins a lot and copious amounts of fluff take place.
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
merlinxarthur's fanfic challenge #1. Prompt was picture three - though I ended up writing less sleepy cuddling and more bickering because I feel those two are at their best when they act like an old married couple. Despite this being technically a first time fic.
The morning after, Arthur tries very hard to pretend that nothing has happened.
Granted, it's a bit difficult to ignore all the clues pointing to the contrary, such as the clothes strewn on the floor, his vicious hangover or the fact that Merlin is currently sleeping in his bed.
Sleeping naked in his bed, he amends after a quick downward glance, and Arthur hurries to pull the bedcovers over the two of them. Not that this makes the situation any better.
Last night is mostly a blur, but Arthur remembers just enough to wish that he didn't. He disentangles his left arm from under Merlin's shoulder and takes his head in his hands, waiting for the earth to open and swallow him whole.
He's still considering suicide as the most viable option when the cause of all his problems sits up, rubs his eyes and beams at him.
"G'morning," Merlin mumbles, leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on Arthur's lips.
For a moment Arthur's brain freezes, then he gets a hold of himself and pushes Merlin away.
"Ew," Arthur says, making a face. "You've got morning breath."
Merlin grins sheepishly. "Sorry," he replies, and Arthur rolls his eyes.
"Hurry up and get dressed before someone sees you like this," he says, nudging Merlin off the bed with one foot.
It's Merlin's turn to roll his eyes.
"That would be easier if someone hadn't thrown my clothes all over the place last night," the boy says cheekily, prompting Arthur to make a horrified face.
This is the kind of opening that usually would lead to a good twenty minutes of bickering, but somehow this morning Arthur doesn't feel up for it.
"Just shut up and get your clothes," Arthur says, looking away from Merlin's smirk. He stares firmly at his wardrobe as Merlin stumbles around the room retrieving the rest of his clothes. He definitely isn't going to remember just how and when and why one of Merlin's boots flew under the table, not at all.
Only after Merlin has finished putting on that ridiculous neckerchief does Arthur dare get out of bed and splash some water from the basin on his face.
"You haven't brought me fresh water this morning," he notes with a tinge of annoyance. "Nor my breakfast. Really, Merlin, what kind of servant are you?"
"The busy kind," Merlin replies. "So busy, I wasn't even able to get back to my room last night."
And at that Arthur drops the subject.
He refuses to have Merlin dress him today ("I'm perfectly able of putting on a shirt on my own!" "Then why do you always ask me to dress you?" "Oh shut up, it's not as if you have anything better to do...") because the idea of Merlin's hands anywhere near him is making him hot and bothered in a way that has nothing to do with the warm summer air coming through the open window.
Merlin isn't helping at all, wandering around the room and picking up Arthur's clothes from last night and making remarks about the sorry state they're in.
Arthur takes a small payback for Merlin's teasing by compiling a short list of things to do. Things that Merlin will do, at any rate.
"I'll be training in the yard all morning, so clean my room while I'm not here," Arthur says. "And wash my clothes."
Merlin makes a face. "Now I have to do your laundry too?"
Arthur sighs. "Yes, Merlin," he says. "Unless you have a good reason to explain about the stains to the washerwomen, which you don't have."
"But I do!" Merlin replies enthusiastically. "I could simply tell them that last night you were too drunk, and I told you that it'd be better to take off your shirt, but do you ever listen to me? And then you..."
"Merlin!"
Arthur summons his best arrogant prince expression, which is by no means a difficult feat. "If you tell anyone about what happened, I will have you killed."
"Yes," Merlin nods quickly. "Yes, I knew you'd say something like that. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
Arthur isn't much impressed by this reassurance. "You're absolute rubbish at keeping secrets, Merlin," he points out.
"Only from you," Merlin says with a small grin. "You read me like a book, as always."
Arthur's almost sure that Merlin is making a fool of him, but then shrugs. He can harass Merlin about it after the training session is over.
"Just make sure you don't tell anyone, all right?" he says, and Merlin nods once again and turns to leave.
"And, Merlin?"
The boy pauses, one hand already on the door. "Yes?" he asks.
Arthur turns away, not quite meeting his gaze.
"Last night was a mistake," he says slowly. "It won't happen again."
"Yes," Merlin repeats once again. "Sire."
Arthur doesn't need to look up to know that he's grinning like the fool he is.
He waves one hand to dismiss him and hears the door open and close as Merlin leaves the room.
Then Arthur collapses against the wall, repeating to himself the same words over and over.
It was a mistake. It won't happen again. It can't end well, this can't go on, the crown prince can't be sleeping with a man, with a servant, with Merlin.
Merlin.
They both know it will happen again.
Fandom: Merlin
Characters: Arthur/Merlin
Words: 894
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In which Arthur tries (and fails) to act nonchalant, Merlin grins a lot and copious amounts of fluff take place.
Notes: Written for
merlinxarthur's fanfic challenge #1. Prompt was picture three - though I ended up writing less sleepy cuddling and more bickering because I feel those two are at their best when they act like an old married couple. The morning after, Arthur tries very hard to pretend that nothing has happened.
Granted, it's a bit difficult to ignore all the clues pointing to the contrary, such as the clothes strewn on the floor, his vicious hangover or the fact that Merlin is currently sleeping in his bed.
Sleeping naked in his bed, he amends after a quick downward glance, and Arthur hurries to pull the bedcovers over the two of them. Not that this makes the situation any better.
Last night is mostly a blur, but Arthur remembers just enough to wish that he didn't. He disentangles his left arm from under Merlin's shoulder and takes his head in his hands, waiting for the earth to open and swallow him whole.
He's still considering suicide as the most viable option when the cause of all his problems sits up, rubs his eyes and beams at him.
"G'morning," Merlin mumbles, leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on Arthur's lips.
For a moment Arthur's brain freezes, then he gets a hold of himself and pushes Merlin away.
"Ew," Arthur says, making a face. "You've got morning breath."
Merlin grins sheepishly. "Sorry," he replies, and Arthur rolls his eyes.
"Hurry up and get dressed before someone sees you like this," he says, nudging Merlin off the bed with one foot.
It's Merlin's turn to roll his eyes.
"That would be easier if someone hadn't thrown my clothes all over the place last night," the boy says cheekily, prompting Arthur to make a horrified face.
This is the kind of opening that usually would lead to a good twenty minutes of bickering, but somehow this morning Arthur doesn't feel up for it.
"Just shut up and get your clothes," Arthur says, looking away from Merlin's smirk. He stares firmly at his wardrobe as Merlin stumbles around the room retrieving the rest of his clothes. He definitely isn't going to remember just how and when and why one of Merlin's boots flew under the table, not at all.
Only after Merlin has finished putting on that ridiculous neckerchief does Arthur dare get out of bed and splash some water from the basin on his face.
"You haven't brought me fresh water this morning," he notes with a tinge of annoyance. "Nor my breakfast. Really, Merlin, what kind of servant are you?"
"The busy kind," Merlin replies. "So busy, I wasn't even able to get back to my room last night."
And at that Arthur drops the subject.
He refuses to have Merlin dress him today ("I'm perfectly able of putting on a shirt on my own!" "Then why do you always ask me to dress you?" "Oh shut up, it's not as if you have anything better to do...") because the idea of Merlin's hands anywhere near him is making him hot and bothered in a way that has nothing to do with the warm summer air coming through the open window.
Merlin isn't helping at all, wandering around the room and picking up Arthur's clothes from last night and making remarks about the sorry state they're in.
Arthur takes a small payback for Merlin's teasing by compiling a short list of things to do. Things that Merlin will do, at any rate.
"I'll be training in the yard all morning, so clean my room while I'm not here," Arthur says. "And wash my clothes."
Merlin makes a face. "Now I have to do your laundry too?"
Arthur sighs. "Yes, Merlin," he says. "Unless you have a good reason to explain about the stains to the washerwomen, which you don't have."
"But I do!" Merlin replies enthusiastically. "I could simply tell them that last night you were too drunk, and I told you that it'd be better to take off your shirt, but do you ever listen to me? And then you..."
"Merlin!"
Arthur summons his best arrogant prince expression, which is by no means a difficult feat. "If you tell anyone about what happened, I will have you killed."
"Yes," Merlin nods quickly. "Yes, I knew you'd say something like that. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
Arthur isn't much impressed by this reassurance. "You're absolute rubbish at keeping secrets, Merlin," he points out.
"Only from you," Merlin says with a small grin. "You read me like a book, as always."
Arthur's almost sure that Merlin is making a fool of him, but then shrugs. He can harass Merlin about it after the training session is over.
"Just make sure you don't tell anyone, all right?" he says, and Merlin nods once again and turns to leave.
"And, Merlin?"
The boy pauses, one hand already on the door. "Yes?" he asks.
Arthur turns away, not quite meeting his gaze.
"Last night was a mistake," he says slowly. "It won't happen again."
"Yes," Merlin repeats once again. "Sire."
Arthur doesn't need to look up to know that he's grinning like the fool he is.
He waves one hand to dismiss him and hears the door open and close as Merlin leaves the room.
Then Arthur collapses against the wall, repeating to himself the same words over and over.
It was a mistake. It won't happen again. It can't end well, this can't go on, the crown prince can't be sleeping with a man, with a servant, with Merlin.
Merlin.
They both know it will happen again.
