Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Arthur.”

Merlin could detect a slight, barely there tremble in Uther’s voice as he breathed out his son’s name. Merlin assumed Uther didn’t really believe that Arthur would actually go through with it and use the horn to banish him. To tell the truth, even Merlin had his doubts. Despite all his faults, Arthur loved his father, even after his death. Not even the lives of his knights being threatened was enough of a push for him to carry out the difficult choice.

Merlin was suddenly hit with a realization.

Arthur couldn’t find the strength to send Uther back to the after-life despite all he’d done to Arthur’s kingdom since he’d walked out from the veil. Endangering Arthur’s friends, trying to tear apart the Round Table, disapproving of all the good Arthur had done in his short reign - none of that had made Arthur take matters in his own hands and get it over with.

And yet, here he was, standing up to his father, the man he loved and worshiped above all others, the horn more than halfway to his lips, jaw set in determination while his eyes shone with a combination of regret and heartbreak. But he was about to do it. And the reason was suddenly crystal clear.

Uther intended to hurt Merlin.

The realization made Merlin’s heart come to a full stop. As he watched the scene unfold in front of him, noticing the shake of Arthur’s hand, his laboured breathing and trembling lips, he could feel his own eyes tearing up under a wave of emotion so intense his knees nearly gave out.

Merlin had always known that Arthur cared for him. Considered him his closest friend. He would protect him in battles (not that Merlin needed it, but Arthur didn’t know that), stand up for him on several occasions, had crossed so many lines in their unique servant-master relationship. Arthur trusted Merlin with his kingdom, listened to his advice (well, on occasion anyway) and always had him follow him everywhere. Merlin was a permanent fixture in Arthur’s life, that much was clear to not only him, but pretty much everyone in Camelot and beyond.

But choosing to save Merlin for the price of forever losing his father - again - was still unexpected. Even more so considering Arthur had made his decision in a span of a few seconds, from the moment he burst through the door of the armory and saw that Merlin was in danger. There was no hesitation on Arthur’s part, no second-guessing, and Merlin was once more overwhelmed with an undeniable surge of emotion that shook him to his bones.

Gods, I love this man.

Although hearing his name fall out of his father’s lips obviously pained Arthur, he didn’t waver and seemed ready to ignore anything Uther might have said to buy himself time or mercy. 

Was Uther about to beg? No, Uther Pendragon didn’t beg, a trait Arthur had inherited from him buthad learned to show humility when the situation called for it. On the other hand, Uther only ever demanded . Maybe he thought he would break Arthur in, establishing his dominance and superiority. Or maybe he would choose to be vile and undermine Arthur’s faith in himself, make him doubt himself, hoping to change Arthur’s mind by shaming him into feeling guilty.

Merlin was sure all of these outcomes could easily happen, and for a split second he was worried Arthur would give in. But the determined, if haunted look in his friend’s eyes put his mind at ease.

Arthur got this. He would resist any taunting from Uther, Merlin was sure of that. Everything was going to be alright. Arthur would make the hard but right choice and when it was over and all the guilt and loss came crashing down on him, Merlin would be there, by his side, as he always had been, as he always would be. And it would take some time to soothe the heartache, to erase the shame and doubts, but they would get through it, together . Merlin would always be there to hold Arthur while he fell apart until he was ready to mould himself back together. Into someone new, someone even stronger, even braver, even kinder.

Whatever may come, Merlin would be there for him, as long as Arthur would have him.

And then, in the very next second, the ground disappeared from under his feet.

“Merlin has magic!”

Arthur stopped with the tip of the horn pressed to his lips, mid breath in, body frozen in shock, eyes fixed on his father. He blinked a few times in confusion, as if the words Uther had spoken were in a foreign language. Without pulling the horn away, his gaze found Merlin, staring uncomprehendingly before moving back to rest on Uther’s face.

“I am telling the truth! He just used it in front of me! On me!” Uther’s voice grew stronger as he was trying to win Arthur over. Instead, it only caused Arthur’s anxiety to spike and his breathing grew erratic.

Merlin couldn’t believe how fast the course of events had changed. One moment, his heart was bursting with affection and gratitude for his friend, almost too big for his chest. Now, it was beating frantically for an entirely different reason. His body started to shake and he could feel moisture running down the right side of his face as one of those tears he’d been holding back finally spilled over, followed by another.

Was this what dying felt like?

This couldn’t be happening. Arthur wasn’t supposed to know, not like this! Merlin should have been the one to tell him, to explain.

Arthur was never going to forgive him.

He lost him forever.

“Arthur,” Merlin croaked in a small, broken voice. An apology, a plea.

Arthur’s confused gaze met his, eyes glistening with a plea of their own. A plea for an explanation or denial, Merlin wasn’t sure.

Merlin opened his mouth to say something, but Uther’s stormy voice rang in the armory.

“Arthur!”

Arthur’s head snapped back to stare at his father.

“He’s a sorcerer, you must-”

Arthur flinched at the last words that came out of his father’s mouth, and with just a slightest hesitation, he took a deep breath, closing his lips around the horn and breathing out with as much force as he could muster. Uther’s betrayed face was the last thing he’d seen before he disintegrated like smoke.

Deafening silence fell over them as Arthur contemplated everything that just happened, suddenly feeling weak in the knees. His father’s last words came screaming back at him and he found Merlin’s trembling form as he pressed himself to the wall, trying to hide behind nothing. If Arthur felt shaky, Merlin looked like he was about to fall over if he didn’t lean back against something for support. 

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered, like a question, the other man’s eyes lifting up to meet his. Arthur took in his bitten lips and tear-streaked face. Merlin looked like the softest breeze would take him apart, with the laboured breathing he was desperately trying to get under control while tears kept streaming down his pale cheeks.

“Arthur,” whispered Merlin back, like taming a wild animal. He didn’t move from his spot but when Arthur didn’t immediately start throwing accusations at him, he stood a bit taller, a little stronger. The way Arthur looked at him made him want to curl back in on himself and die of shame.

“Was he telling the truth?” Arthur’s voice was level, betraying nothing, but the way his jaw clenched and he held his breath gave him away. He was terrified. What did he want to hear? The truth? Or denial?

Merlin’s mind started battling with itself. He was trapped. Everything he’d worked for for so long was lost. If he told the truth, Arthur would never speak to him again. Even if there had been a chance before that he would understand, it was gone now. Merlin had lied to him, kept secrets from him. Yes, he had a valid reason, but it’d been years. He’d had so many opportunities to tell him and he’d always bailed. And now, Arthur had to hear it from the one man who had taught him that magic was the root of all evil, rotten to its core. 

And Merlin was magic.

But could he fabricate one more lie? Could he take it even further and deny everything that had just been said and pretend it had all been just Uther playing games so he could escape? Did he even want to?

Lying to Arthur all these years had been bad enough and Merlin wasn’t sure he could lead him astray even further. Arthur didn’t deserve that. After all the secrecy and keeping stuff away from him, what he deserved was the truth, however painful. On top of that, Merlin was quite positive that his emotional  and physical breakdown was a clear giveaway.

His mind made up, he braced himself for the inevitable. 

“Yes,” he breathed, “I am a sorcerer. I have magic.” He paused, wondering how much to tell straight from the beginning. “I was born with it,” he added and finally dared to seek out Arthur’s resigned face. He could feel a lump forming in his throat. He swallowed painfully, not really helping anything. “And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.” Last words, he spoke softly, putting as much emotion in them as possible.

Arthur’s eyes bore into his, searching and judging. Merlin stood his ground, hoping to look sincere and apologetic at the same time. After several long moments, Arthur’s eyelids fluttered close, followed by a deep breath in and out.

When they opened, a wall stood in their place.

Arthur turned on his heel, showing Merlin his back, posture rigid, and started walking to the door. And then he walked through, not a single word spared for Merlin as it shut behind him.

Merlin slumped heavily against the wall, all the fight and fear and hope leaving his body in a whoosh. He wasn’t able to stop the flow of tears that came right after. Out of all the scenarios he pictured might have followed his confession, this wasn’t one of them.

Somehow, this was so much worse than anything he could have imagined.

Merlin didn’t attend to Arthur that night, quite confident that his presence wouldn’t be welcome. The betrayed look on Arthur’s face followed by the brick wall that had risen within him would hunt Merlin for months, if not years. Quite possibly forever.

He made a beeline for Gaius’ quarters, hoping that the old man would still be awake. He needed to talk to someone, otherwise he would go crazy.

By the time he got there, he had stopped crying, self-pity replaced by pure panic. He stormed into the main room and immediately found Gaius by the potion table, mixing some new concoction. At the sound of the door slamming open, the old man lifted his head and took in Merlin’s disheveled appearance.

“Merlin! What happened? What did Uther do? Did he hurt someone again?” Questions poured out of him but Merlin was past that. The problem with Uther terrorizing Camelot looked like a child’s play in comparison.

Merlin shook his head subtly, the lump in his throat getting bigger, and to his horror he could sense he was about to cry again.

“Gaius, I- I messed up. I messed up real bad. I lost him. I lost everything.”

 As he broke into sobs, he felt the man’s hands wrapping themselves around his shoulders and pulling him into an embrace.

Merlin had spent the better part of an hour talking Gaius through the events of the night before diving straight into a panic attack.

“What do I do, Gaius? He hates me now. I betrayed him. I lied to him for ten years, every day. He didn’t even get to hear it from me. How can I look him in the eye after all that? Oh gods, what if he doesn’t want to see me ever again? What if he sends me away? Banish me from Camelot? I can’t leave him, Gaius, I need to protect him! It’s my destiny! I can’t- I can’t just-” 

The realization he might never see Arthur again brought a novel kind of pain and he was left gasping for breath as he felt the man’s hands on his shoulders, grounding and reassuring.

“Merlin, just breathe. You have to breathe. There you are, nice, steady, in... and out. Again. In... out. Good. That’s good.” 

Gaius reached for a cup of water while rubbing Merlin’s back, a gesture meaning to soothe. Merlin took the cup with a shaky hand without looking and downed it in one go. He continued with the breathing pattern for a few more minutes until he felt steady enough to speak again.

“I can’t leave him,” he repeated resignedly, rubbing at his eyes in hopes of clearing up his blurry vision. He heard Gaius sigh in sympathy.

“You don’t have to leave him, Merlin. I don’t see any knights dragging you out of here, and Arthur didn’t tell you to leave.”

“He didn’t say anything at all. He just... turned his back on me and left without a word.” The memory induced another clenching sensation in his heart, like an iron fist squeezing the life out of it. “He couldn’t even stand to look at me. He hates me.”

“Merlin, that’s not true. Despite all that happened, and I know that things are not looking that bright, I genuinely believe Arthur could never hate you. Try to see it through his eyes. He just found out that his father, the only man whose affection he ever starved for disapproves of everything Arthur stands for and all that he has built. Then he has to make the decision to lose that man - again - and to do so by his own hand. And then, the man he-” He hesitates for a moment. “The man he considers his best friend turns out to be a sorcerer. How would you react in his place, Merlin?” he asks gently, trying not to sound patronizing but hoping to get his point across.

He meant it - he didn’t believe Arthur would hate Merlin. That he would send him away and forbade him to return to Camelot. Despite Arthur’s upbringing, his father’s influence, noble status and posh demeanor, Arthur had a kind heart and a gentle soul. He wouldn’t abandon someone with just a snap of his fingers. Least of all Merlin.

When Merlin finally responded, he sounded as tired as he looked.

“Even if that is all true, and that’s a big if , where do we go from here? I don’t know how to talk about it. Do we talk about it? Does he even want to? What if he doesn’t? Do we just pretend it never happened?” 

Gaius had to put a stop to this before Merlin worked himself up into another fit.

“Leave that up to Arthur, how about that?” he suggested. “I am certain he will take time to work out through his emotions and decide how to proceed. Until that day comes, you can start with resuming your duties as a servant. I know it’s going to be hard, Merlin, but sadly, you will have to give Arthur space, as much as he needs. But you shouldn’t avoid him or remove yourself from his life. He needs to know you are still the same person.”

“The person who’s lied to him for years,” responded Merlin with a great deal of self-loathing.

“Yes, but that’s why you need to be there. To explain when he asks why.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

At that, Gaius finally smiled. “Oh Merlin, he will. I promise you he will.”

Merlin almost worked himself up into another frenzy on his way to Arthur’s chambers the next morning. He was pretty sure he had never felt that sick in his life. This was what a person going to the gallows must feel like.

Swallowing down the choking sensation, he wiped sweat off his brows and walked a little faster. His palms were sweating too and he was just hoping the breakfast tray wouldn’t slip from them. It was heavier than usual. It’s not that Merlin thought he was making up for the colossal screw up with a fancy breakfast that included all of Arthur’s favorites, but it couldn’t hurt to try a little harder when trying to make amends.

With a heavy and erratically beating heart, he came to a halt in front of Arthur’s door. Of course, on any other day he wouldn’t hesitate to just barge in uninvited (and Arthur was usually asleep anyway) and start preparing Arthur for the day. But he thought it very unwise at this moment.

He knocked three times, not too soft and not too urgent, just the right amount of force and appropriate time in between. The action felt quite foreign and he anxiously listened for a response. What if Arthur wasn’t awake yet? Should he just come in then? Gods, this was terrible, he had never needed to think of that stuff.

He raised his hand in a preparation to knock again when he heard a rustling sound coming from the chambers. He held his breath as he waited for an invitation, now that he knew for sure that Arthur was in there and awake. But when seconds had passed without anything happening, he grew restless.

Maybe Arthur didn’t hear him? He might have woken him up with the knocking without Arthur knowing what it was that disturbed his sleep. So he knocked again, three times, exactly like before. This time, he only had to wait a few seconds.

“Come in.”

At the sound of Arthur’s voice, his knees almost gave out with relief. Just a few hours ago he had been sure he would never hear it again. He had never been so happy to be proven wrong. Arthur sounded tired, but not in a way that comes after being woken up after an unsatisfying sleep. This was different. It sounded like someone who just lost all the fight in him.

Merlin reluctantly pushed the door open, peeking inside with just his head visible, and spotted Arthur standing by his bed, fully clothed in his dark brown breeches and blue tunic. He pushed the door open further and squeezed himself in, the breakfast tray acting like a shield in front of him.

Arthur was looking at him with a frowny expression that must have mirrored Merlin’s own. Arthur was not only awake (and when was the last time that had happened without Merlin’s intervention?) but he also managed to get dressed. Merlin knew for a fact that had never happened before. He wasn’t entirely sure that Arthur actually knew how to put his clothes on. 

“I... Good morning?” Merlin didn’t have anything prepared to say, which in retrospect wasn’t very wise, but he supposed nothing could have prepared him for reality anyway. 

“You are...dressed. And awake... And dressed.” Oh gods, he was babbling again. He expected Arthur to call him a sputtering idiot, he was even looking forward to the insult, but no response came. In fact, Arthur’s expression hadn’t changed.

“You knocked,” pointed Arthur out. 

“What?” asked Merlin. Now he was sure that would earn him an eye-roll. Arthur hated repeating himself.

“You knocked. You never knock.”

Merlin blinked in confusion. 

“Yes, I... Last night was quite... exhausting.” He spoke the last word carefully, like a question, making sure it was an appropriate word to use in the situation. “You needed the rest and I didn’t want to wake you in case you weren’t...awake.”

Great, how eloquent, Merlin.

Arthur kept staring at him with the same, disapproving expression. 

“I’ve been up for a while.”

“Oh,” he squeezed out. “Did you sleep well?”

“No.”

Somehow, that one word made Merlin feel even smaller and more ashamed than he had before.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t sleep well either.” That was a lie. He hadn’t got a second of a shuteye at all. “Maybe you’ll feel better after breakfast?” he suggested hopefully with a nod towards the tray he was still holding. Arthur’s gaze flicked towards it, darkening some more before it came to rest on Merlin again.

When he didn’t get a response, Merlin took a few cautious steps forward until he reached the table and lowered the tray on it. His head was hanging low and he was unable to look at his friend. Trying to come up with another topic for small talk, he opened his mouth but the other man beat him to it.

“That will be all,” Arthur said dismissively and turned his back on Merlin. It felt like a deja vu and his stomach contracted uncomfortably.

“You... don’t require my assistance with anything else?”

What about all the errands and cleaning and lunch and dinner and polishing and helping Arthur with putting on armor?

“No, I’ll manage.”

Merlin was starting to panic. This could not be happening. 

“How about a bath? To relax you? It won’t take long at all if you want me to-”

“You are dismissed. I don’t need help with anything,” came the cold reply, Arthur’s back still turned to him. “You can take the day off. Actually, take the whole week.”

And in that moment, Merlin knew it was over.

That night, Merlin actually got some shuteye but only because he literally cried himself to sleep. Gaius tried to soothe him, kept pointing out the good things, such as that Arthur didn’t want Merlin gone, that he (most likely) hadn’t told about his magic to anyone else, that he had actually talked to him! And so and so on.

Yes, Arthur hadn’t banished him from Camelot, but that didn’t mean he wanted him around. Yes, he hadn’t told anyone but he still could. And he had talked to him only to tell him he didn’t need him around. What a win.

Merlin woke up the next morning even more tired than before he went to sleep. He knew it sounded dramatic, but it felt as if all the will to live had left him. After all, he dedicated his life to be by Arthur’s side, hadn’t known anything else for ten years. What was he supposed to do now?

“Merlin, what did I tell you about giving him time to deal with his feelings? Of course he’s upset with you, even you are upset with yourself. He can’t think clearly if you’re following him everywhere,” Gaius tried to reason. If anything, it aggravated Merlin even more.

“That’s not what I do! I don’t follow him around like a lost puppy, I’m by his side to save his royal arse!”

“Now now, that’s not what I meant Merlin, so calm down, please.”

“Well, it’s what it sounded like.”

“Merlin,” said the physician exasperatedly. “Stop moping. It won’t do you any good. The reality is you need to give Arthur time, and space, as much as he needs. If you try to force yourself on him, you’ll end up pushing him away.”

Merlin shuddered at the thought. “But how long?”

It was more of a rhetorical question, but Gaius seemed to contemplate it. 

“It won’t take long and he’s going to start to miss you. I’m serious!” he insisted, contradicting Merlin’s skeptical face. “You’ve been together for so long. It must feel foreign to him to not have you there too, you know.”

Merlin’s lips quirked upwards, against his better judgment. “You make it sound as if we’re an old, married couple.”

The man huffed out a small laugh. “That’s not very far from the truth, is it now?”

Merlin’s blush almost matched his neckerchief.

The next two days dragged incredibly. Merlin had spent most of his years in Arthur’s service praying for a day off. Now, he thought there was nothing worse. He started to realize how much every aspect of his life spun around the King. It was quite sad, really. It wasn’t that he didn’t have friends, but his friends were in Arthur’s service too, in his closest circle on top of that.

And anyway, it’s not as if Merlin could just tell them what happened, right? How would he explain his absence? To think of it, how had Arthur explained it? Surely, someone must have noticed. There were never-ending jokes running in Camelot about the King and his servant being attached at the hip. Merlin secretly lived for those. They always made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. It made him irrationally happy that people saw them as one, permanent fixture. Like a bargain - buy one and receive another free of charge. Arthur never expressed any aversion to those jokes. He usually just followed them with an eye-roll or a snort.

Yeah, Merlin was going to miss those.

Talking to Gaius helped a great deal, but his overbearing ‘positive focus’ approach had started to get on Merlin’s nerves. He thought of talking to Lancelot. He was the only other person who knew about his magic, and he had always been such a calming presence in Merlin’s life. A wise, loyal friend.

But maybe too loyal. Merlin worried Lancelot would feel the need to be all righteous and noble and decide to talk to Arthur on his behalf. As lovely as it sounded, that just wouldn’t do. Not only because this was Merlin’s burden to carry, but because he didn’t think Arthur would take kindly to finding out that Lancelot had known about Merlin’s powers before him. 

***

At night of the third day, Gwen came looking for him.

“Merlin!” she exclaimed with relief, her arms coming around his shoulders to wrap him in a hug. “Are you alright?”

“Um...” Merlin wasn’t sure what she was referring to. “I’ll live, I guess?” Yes, that’s a safe answer.

“That’s not funny, Merlin. Arthur said you’re quite sick, so he gave you time off, but he wouldn’t say anything specific. I was so worried!”

Before he knew it, she was hugging him again. It was a good thing too. It gave him time to think.

“Ah, that,” he patted her back comfortingly. “It’s not that bad. It’s not even contagious. I probably just ate something bad so it will take a few days for me to get back in shape. Gaius has already come up with medicine for me to take regularly. I honestly exaggerated a bit in front of Arthur, I was hoping to get some more time off.” 

Gods, he hoped it was convincing. After the events of the past few days, he really hated having to come up with more lies. When Gwen visibly relaxed, he assumed it worked.

“I’m so glad to hear that. Me and Lancelot were worried sick. And the rest as well. Except Gwaine, actually. He just thought you’ve been sleeping off some nasty hangover.”

Merlin burst out laughing, his first laugh in days. That felt really good.

“He would, wouldn’t he. Well, it feels somewhat like that.”

“I’ll tell everyone that you’re recovering well and it’s nothing too serious, alright?”

Merlin nodded in agreement. And then, it all came crashing down.

Arthur had told everyone that Merlin was sick to avoid suspicion. Merlin wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing. On one hand, Arthur couldn’t keep that excuse for much longer - people would gossip. Did that mean he was planning on taking Merlin back? Or was it just a temporary excuse before he came up with a plan for how to get rid of him completely?

The thought made Merlin sick for real.

“Gwen?” 

She stopped on her way to the door.

“Did Arthur-” He swallowed uncomfortably. “Did Arthur get another servant to replace me? You know... in the meantime.” Asking the question hurt more than he had expected. And was even scarier.

Gwen seemed to think about the answer. “No,” she replied, unsure. “I don’t think so. I bring him breakfast and lunch, Sefa brings dinner and prepares baths for him, and he’s had George do the dirty job and also help him with armor. He split the job between us which is a really good thing because we all have our own responsibilities and there is no way just one of us could cope. I’m sure he can’t wait to lay it all on you once you’ve recovered,” she added with mirth, and something in Merlin's chest unclenched.

This was... good, wasn’t it? Arthur hadn’t replaced Merlin, and he seemed to have only short-term excuses for his absence. 

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” he laughed nervously and bid her good rest of the night. She seemed to hesitate on the doorstep.

When she spoke, it was in a soft voice, like she was telling him a secret. “Merlin, just so you know, Arthur seems genuinely upset about your absence. I don’t think I’ve seen him smile in the past three days and he’s short with everyone. He doesn’t even complain about anything! Can you imagine?!”

Merlin didn’t share her opinion. He knew that wasn’t why the King was upset. 

“That’s very sweet of you to say, Gwen, but I think you’ve got this wrong. He hasn’t even come over to check on me.”

Gwen’s enthusiasm died somewhat but didn’t completely disappear. “He’s King, Merlin, he’s a busy man as it is and honestly, not even the three of us together can manage to do everything you do on a daily basis. I think Arthur is just used to something and he likes it the way it’s been until now.” She got more serious at that. “Truly, Merlin, I promise you he’s missing you something fierce,” she finished with a whisper and closed the door behind her, leaving Merlin standing frozen on the spot.

Well, why don’t we test the theory?

And that’s how Merlin found himself on the way to Ealdor. After all, it’d been ages since he’d seen his mum.

Hunith was beside herself with happiness when she opened the door to reveal her son. She hugged Merlin so tight she almost squeezed the life out of him. She reluctantly released him to wipe discreetly at her eyes and was preparing a scolding speech. All the words died in her throat upon closer inspection.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she questioned, heart breaking for Merlin without knowing the reason.

Merlin took a shaky breath, mentally getting himself ready to repeat the story one more time. It wasn’t getting any easier. 

“It’s quite a story, mum. How about we sit down first, yeah?”

Hunith nodded solemnly and took his hand, leading him inside.

“Of course, Merlin. Whenever you’re ready.” She slid her hand up to his cheek, caressing gently. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Talking to his mum had released such a weight from Merlin’s shoulders and heart he felt faint with relief. There really was something about sharing your pain with people who’d known you your whole life making you feel better. Although Hunith didn’t know Arthur as well as Gaius did, she had come up with a number of valid points. In general, she shared Gaius’ opinion on the situation and Arthur’s reaction (or the lack thereof), but coming from her it sounded better.

“Merlin, I’ve told you before. You’re like two sides of the same coin. He can’t hate you. You complete each other.”

That sounded suspiciously like something Kilgharrah had once said. However, regardless of Merlin’s feelings, he didn’t think that was how Arthur thought of them. They might be best friends, but it was unlikely Arthur was aware of the bond between them. And if he did, he’d never shown it.

“He may not hate me, mum, but he'll never trust me again. He’s had so many people betray him. I was the one he trusted above everything. How do I fix what’s broken?”

Hunith had been stroking her thumb over his hand ever since he’d started talking, but now she tightened her grip to make a point. 

“You don’t need to fix it, Merlin. You tell the truth, the whole truth, and you start anew. With no secrets, no other life to keep away from Arthur. You need to tell him everything and be completely transparent about everything you do from now on. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually and he’ll see you’re still the same person.”

“The same person with just a little magic to his skill set, huh.”

Hunith’s smile was indulgent. “It’s always been a part of you, Merlin.”

Yeah, he knew. But would Arthur see it that way?

“Alright, mum, no more moping. I’m done with this for now. I haven’t seen you in ages, I just want to spend some time with you, yeah?”

Hunith stood up and smoothed down her apron. “I love to hear you say that. I was just about to make lunch.” Merlin’s stomach grumbled at the mention of food. “While I’m busy doing that, why don’t you start sweeping? And then you can clean the dishes when I’m done.”

Now he was gaping like a fish out of water.

“Don’t look at me like that, young man. Maybe this will teach you to leave your mother hanging for months before showing up again.” She threw the broom at him and turned around before he could protest.

Well, no place like home, I guess.

Merlin ended up spending nearly a week in Ealdor. Hunith kept him busy, with both working and chatting, and he couldn’t remember the last time his life had felt this simple, this predictable. The biggest drama was when one of the goats had escaped to the woods and given Merlin a run for his money despite him being a powerful warlock and all.

Nevertheless, he’d grown restless and on the morning of the seventh day, he bid his mother goodbye and promised to visit in a few months' time, with better news this time. And with Gaius, preferably.

As happy as he was to return to Camelot, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should make himself ready for something. He didn’t know what. Had Arthur noticed Merlin had been gone? Would guards even let him in?

As he neared the gates, he started sweating nervously. He swallowed over the lump in his throat and urged his horse to go faster, just to get it over with.

After all the years in Camelot, he knew pretty much everyone in the city. And vice-versa. The sun had almost set but he still recognized the guards by the main gate, Eric and Osian, he believed, who were watching him approach with a calculating gaze. Bracing himself up for the worst, he almost came to a halt several yards before the entry. Before he had a chance to do that though, recognition flickered across the guards’ faces and they hurried to clear the path for him.

“Welcome back, Merlin,” Eric nodded in his direction as Merlin’s horse continued to carry him to the city. Dumbfounded, he only managed to stare.

By the time he took the horse to the stables to feed him after the journey, he felt somewhat more relaxed. Good to know I’m not banished then. Yet.

Just as he was about to leave to settle in for the night, a slightly panicked - and wasn’t that a novel look on him - Gwaine strolled in.

“Merlin!” he exclaimed. “What’s going on? Where have you been?”

Merlin just blinked at him, puzzled. “Um... Ealdor? I went to visit my mother. Why, what happened?”

“What do you mean what happened? Did you just up and leave without telling Arthur?”

“Well, it’s true I didn’t tell him, but he gave me time off. I didn’t know I had to ask for permission to do with my free time as I see fit. And anyway, Gaius knew where I was going. Arthur could have just asked.”

Gwaine wasn’t having it. “I don’t know what exactly is going on between you two, my friend, but the Princess is flipping out. He’s been on the edge for the past three days, just spitting fire at everyone who even breathed in his direction.”

Merlin opened his mouth to defend himself some more but Gwaine held up a hand.

“I don’t care. just go in there and fix it. He asked to see you.”

Arthur asked for him? Wait, was he watching from his chambers? Had he been doing that a lot?

“Really? Now?”

“Well, he didn’t ask, he ordered me to, and I quote, get that useless, idiot toad of a servant here before I pay him a visit ,” Gwaine repeated in an imitation of Arthur’s irritated voice. Merlin chuckled despite himself.

“Right. Well, I better go then.” He made to leave the stables but Gwaine spoke again behind him.

“Wait, weren’t you supposed to be sick?” 

Oh, that.

“Eh... yeah, I was. I might have just... over-exaggerated my symptoms a bit,” he explained sheepishly which earned a throaty laugh from the knight.

“Right. I knew you were just faking it! Went a bit overboard on that mead, didn’t you?”

“Something like that.”

Merlin made a beeline for Arthur’s chambers, not bothering to announce his return to Gaius before that. He wondered if Arthur was finally going to freak out on him. As unpleasant as the thought was, it was about time.

Bracing himself, Merlin knocked. Huh, it still feels weird.

Instead of an invitation to enter, the door sprung open while his hand was still hanging midair, to reveal the King’s stormy expression. Merlin opened his mouth for a greeting, but again he was interrupted before getting a single word out.

“Where. The hell. Have you been?! ” 

If he wasn’t so scared, Arthur’s dramatic, high-pitched voice would make him snort.

“Um... Ealdor?” Why did he keep saying it like a question?

“What the hell were you doing there?!”

Merlin thought that was a ridiculous question. “Visiting my mother? You know, the one that lives there?” Oh, boy, now was so not the time to get cheeky with a tight-wound Arthur ready to pounce.

“Don’t sass me, Merlin! I know Hunith lives there! And I talked to Gaius.”

Merlin’s heart started beating a little faster when he realized this was the first time since the night that Arthur had actually said his name. It felt like a victory.

“Well, then-.”

“That does not explain why you thought it alright to just up and leave without telling me, or the heavens forbid, asking me for permission!”

Wait, what now?

“What do you mean? You gave me time off, which usually implies, you know, time off duties. Not that I would know, I’ve never had any before.” Why was it he couldn’t help it but poke the bear when he was already prissy? Yep, he must have had a death wish.

“You talk back to me one more time and you’re spending the night in the stocks!” Arthur’s voice was getting lower and his expression darker. “I gave you a week off. Now, I don’t know what cave you grew up in, but here the week has seven days. You were supposed to be back three nights ago!” Now he was fuming, cheeks getting red from exertion.

Merlin was about to protest when Arthur’s words finally sank in.

“You-” He swallowed carefully when he noticed how shaky the word came out. “You expected me to resume my duties. Three nights ago,” he repeated slowly, making sure he got it right. Arthur gave him a disbelieving look.

“Yes, Merlin, believe it or not, that’s what servants generally do.” He sounded tired, like he hadn't slept in a while.

“Oh, right,”Merlin responded. “I just-. Wasn’t sure that you would... you know...” he lowered his gaze, not sure what to say without bursting the fragile bubble that surrounded them at the moment.

The King’s shoulders slumped infinitesimally, the fight leaving him.

“It sounds incredulous, but as incompetent as you are as a servant, you do make my life easier. Can’t have a bunch of other servants running around all the time, having to explain things to them over and over again. I don’t have time nor patience for that.”

Merlin knew Arthur meant for it to come out indifferent, and he could hear the defensive undertone lacing the words, but Merlin’s face lit up as if he had just received the prize for the servant of the century.

“Yes, sire!” he answered joyously with a dimply smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. It made the other man straighten his back and look away before speaking again.

“I hope your enthusiasm still stands when you’re mucking out the stables and organizing all the mess that has accumulated while you were on holiday.”

It should have made Merlin sigh with annoyance, but he thought he had never heard a better deal. Arthur turned around and walked further into the room which Merlin interpreted as dismissal.

“I’ll be here the first thing in the morning with breakfast. Have a good night, sire!” He turned to leave but his friend’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Where do you think you’re going, Merlin?!”

He gave the King a confused look. “Um... home?”

Arthur looked like he’d never seen a bigger idiot. He grabbed a pile from the chair by the bed, which turned out to be a stack of a few days worth of dirty clothes and threw it at Merlin unceremoniously. It was only the years of practice that helped Merlin maintain his balance.

“The holiday is over, Merlin. You better make yourself useful before I do find a more capable servant to replace you. I hardly believe that would be a struggle, don’t you, Merlin?”

Before he could reply, the door shut in his face.

Despite his late night, Merlin woke up the next morning well rested, with a fluttering feeling in his chest. After dealing with the laundry (with a little help from his natural... ehm.. talent), he updated Gaius on both his mother’s well-being and last night’s events. Gaius shared his positive opinion about the situation but warned him not to get carried away. Arthur might have started to lower his walls down, but if not careful, they could come back, twice as high. Merlin didn’t want to admit it, but that’s exactly what it was afraid of. He and Gaius had come to a mutual agreement that Merlin would not bring his magic up until prompted by Arthur, and should resume his duties as if nothing had changed. Easier said than done.

Merlin had a bounce in his step as he made his way to Arthur’s chambres from the kitchens. The breakfast was nothing fancy, just the usual - meat, cheese, bread, and some grapes. Definitely nothing like the last breakfast Merlin had brought him. The memory darkened his mood somewhat, but he didn’t let it linger.

Just act as if everything was normal.

It was with that thought that he decided to forgo knocking. After all, Arthur was right the last time - Merlin had never bothered to knock before. With a bit of luck, Arthur was still asleep anyway.

That turned out to not be the case as he opened the door to reveal Arthur sitting down on his bed, already dressed, tying up his shoelaces. A feeling of dread fell over him as he was thrown back to the last morning he brought Arthur breakfast, standing exactly where he stood now, with Arthur wearing almost the same clothes as then.  

Arthur’s head snapped up to find Merlin frozen at the door, holding the breakfast tray. He flicked his gaze between the two, just like last time , and something in his eyes shifted, his shoulders relaxed. He finished with his shoelaces and stood up, keeping his eyes on Merlin.

“Morning,” Merlin croaked out, choked up. “You’re up,” he pointed out the obvious and slapped himself internally.

“How observant of you, Merlin. As always,” the King teased, though without any venom. “I also happen to be hungry so if you are done standing there looking like a startled stoat, that would be amazing,” he finished, walking over to the table and sitting himself down. Merlin shook himself out of his reverie and went over to place the breakfast in front of him. He grabbed the jug of water and poured some into Arthur’s cup.

“And you’re dressed,” he pointed out accusingly. Arthur answered with an eyeroll, picking up a grape and popping it in his mouth.

“Your observing skills are astounding. Yes, I woke up early and decided to make use of the time. I have a number of commitments to take care of today so it would be the best to not waste it.”

Merlin didn’t really know what to say to that. Instead, he decided to keep himself busy and started stripping down the bed to take it for washing. Arthur ate in silence to start with, but when Merlin was halfway through his task, he spoke up.

“How’s your mother?” he asked, not looking up from his plate.

Merlin took a minute to reply, too shocked at the random question. “She’s good,” he cleared his throat. “Wasn’t exactly happy with me not having shown my face in such a long time. Made me clean up the whole house. And the garden. And our neighbours’ gardens!”

Arthur huffed out a laugh. Merlin thought it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

“Serves you right,” he added. He seemed thoughtful before speaking up again. “Although, I suppose I’m to blame too. I haven’t exactly given you many opportunities to visit her, have I.” And now he looked guilty. Merlin wouldn’t have it.

“It’s not your fault, Arthur. I could have asked for some time off but I didn’t think of it. This one is on me,” he opposed gently and for the first time since he’d walked through the door, Arthur looked at him, gaze softer than before. It occurred to Merlin that this was also the first time he’d called the King by his name since that night in the armory. It felt good.

It felt right.

Arthur didn’t respond and resumed eating his breakfast, so Merlin continued stripping down the sheets. But something prompted him to push just a tiny bit further.

“I promised her I’d come back sooner this time around. And with Gaius, too.”

Arthur nodded subtly, probably thinking the statement to be an indirect question on Merlin’s part, asking for another day off for the future reference.

Merlin hesitated before continuing. “If you wanted... you could… you know. Come too? She would love to see you. It’s been a long time.” There, he said it. His heart was beating so loudly he was sure Arthur must have heard it.

The other man stopped mid-chew, curling his hands into fists. He took a couple of shallow breaths before flicking his gaze to Merlin’s, expression unreadable. Merlin thought he was about to faint from anticipation.

Without an answer, Arthur stood up and walked over to the other side of the chambers, grabbing his ceremonial sword and securing it to his belt. Putting his jacket on, he walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob.

“When you’re finished in here I’ll need you to polish my armor. Get everything ready for me before noon, I have a training session with the knights. I’ll require your assistance then.” And without further ado, he left, Merlin still clutching the sheets in his hands. A stabbing sensation made itself known upon Arthur’s lack of response, but at least he still had his job.

Arthur still wanted him.

He prayed to anything that was holy that it would be enough.

Three nights later found Merlin back in the King’s chambers, drawing a bath for him. It took him much longer than usual, because he didn’t dare use magic this time.

By the time Arthur finally strolled in, the heavy armor clanging with every step, Merlin had just about finished pouring the last bucket of water into the bathtub. Arthur unfastened his belt and threw the whole thing, sword included, on the bed.

“I swear I thought the day would never end,” he complained, sounding worn out and looking even worse.

Yes, the day had been an eventful one. Between having to give a speech about polishing, receiving Odin’s envoy and listening to a speech equally boring, performing a freeman ceremony and a number of similarly tedious tasks, Arthur had barely had time to breathe.

“I know, it’s almost like having to work,” Merlin teased playfully. Things had started looking up in his opinion and he had been letting himself go a bit more unhinged gradually. So far, Arthur had taken it all in stride.

“One day, Merlin. One day I will have had enough of your insolent mouth and you will regret it,” shot Arthur back without hesitation, which made the servant chuckle.

“Are you sure? How did you like the speech I wrote for you then?” Merlin knew that Arthur’s knowledge about polishing was comparable to his cooking skills. From the sour face Arthur made, he knew it too.

“It was acceptable,” he murmured, so quiet that Merlin almost missed it.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t get that. Could you repeat that?” 

He made a show of angling his ear towards him. Which was a mistake, as in the next moment, Arthur strode towards him in a few, quick steps and grabbed him by it. Merlin yelped in surprise and pain.

“I said you better go back to your tasks before I find something more creative for you.” 

Despite the brave words, Merlin could see Arthur’s embarrassed flush high on his cheeks.

“Of course, sire. Wouldn’t want that to happen, would we now,” he taunted some more, knowing that nothing the King could come up with would diminish the satisfaction of provoking him.

Before Arthur could reply, Merlin had already started taking off his armor. As more and more metal came off, Arthur started to relax. He must have been really exhausted.

Merlin felt for him. Despite all the teasing and insulting, he knew Arthur had many responsibilities that were demanding, physically and mentally. It wasn’t a rarity that he came back late at night, famished and worn down from his duties, only managing to eat a modest dinner and have a quick bath before falling face first into bed.

It wasn’t just a physical exhaustion either. Even though he had been King for a few years now, the demands of the court and his people still took a toll on him. Merlin could see new wrinkles appear more and more, could see the ever-present dark circles under his beautiful eyes, his shoulders sore and slumping from both the training and from having to stand tall and proud at all times. And Arthur was still so young.

That’s why Merlin was here. Not just a servant to his King, not only because of destiny, although that was a part of it. But more importantly, a friend to his friend.

Anyone could assist Arthur with getting dressed or undressed, cleaning his chambers and running errands for him, bringing him food and preparing his bath. But Merlin doubted anyone could make him feel so at ease. That Arthur would share his worries with any other servant, discussing the kingdom’s issues, listening to their advice and opening his heart to them. He was sure those privileges belonged only to him. He would do anything for Arthur. He would carry the weight of the world on his own shoulders for him. Destiny or no destiny - his life belonged to the King.

The warm feeling coursing through his body as he recalled all those occasions came to a sudden stop as did his hands on Arthur’s body.

That was before.

He wasn’t sure he would ever regain the trust he’d lost, the trust he’d worked so hard for. The trust he didn’t deserve. But he was determined to do anything to make it happen.

His hands resumed their work and in a few, short minutes Arthur was rid of his armor, standing there clad only in his breaches and a white tunic. Merlin slid slowly to his knees to take off Arthur’s boots when he heard a quiet splashing of water, the King’s fingers dipping in.

“The water’s gotten cold,” he commented. “It’s barely even warm.”

Ah, of course the water would be lukewarm by now. It hadn’t been too hot to begin with and with all the teasing and undressing Arthur, the chilly room had made it go cold rather quickly.

“Sorry, sire. I can heat up a few more buckets to adjust the temperature,” Merlin said hurriedly and stood up, ready to make his way back to the kitchens.

“Why?”

“What?” 

“Why would you do that?”

“To... I mean,” Merlin hesitated, unsure. “You said the water was cold.”

“Yes.”

“So... I was about to go to the kitchens to heat up more water,” he explained slowly as if talking to a child.

“I get that. I’m asking why.”

What. On. Earth?

“Well, because that’s how you make water hot? By... you know... heating it up?” Merlin was losing patience and he wasn’t sure he wasn’t going insane too.

Arthur kept staring at him, as if Merlin was a pupil and his teacher was waiting for him to come up with a better answer.

“That’s very smart of you to figure out, Merlin, but you don’t need to go to the kitchens to get hot water, do you?”

“I don’t?” he asked in surprise, as if Arthur was telling him a secret.

“No,” he insisted, voice level. “I’m sure you’re more resourceful than that.”

It’d taken Merlin more time to understand what was going on than he’d like to admit, but when it happened, it all came crashing down on him.

“You-” He almost choked on his tongue. “You mean you want me to-” 

He couldn’t get it past his lips. Arthur had never given an indication he was willing to even acknowledge what he’d learned that fateful night. And he was... asking Merlin to use his magic? The unwavering stare was Arthur’s only response.

It suddenly occurred to Merlin that Arthur had never actually seen him use his powers. Yes, Uther had ratted him out and when Arthur had asked, Merlin had confessed. But his words hadn’t been followed by an actual proof. How ridiculous was that?!

Could it be what Arthur was waiting for? A proof? Maybe a part of him still refused to believe his friend had been lying to him. Maybe he was still in denial and he needed to see to believe. To make peace with it.

Merlin had never entertained such a thought. Now that it was a possibility, the fear of Arthur’s reaction slammed into him full force. But it needed to be done.

Eyes never leaving Arthur’s, he reached towards the bathtub, dipping two fingers under the surface and calling for his magic to awaken. He’d used this trick so many times it didn’t even require a spell. It didn’t require physical contact either, but this was solely for Arthur’s benefit. Merlin wanted to give him time to get ready.

Just a bit of concentration and the magic spilled out through his fingertips, eyes flashing gold. He braced himself for the inevitable hysteria the King would unleash upon him.

At the sight of gold in Merlin’s eyes, Arthur’s own widened just a fraction. 

Merlin heard the hitch in his breath, followed by a shaky exhale moments later. Staring resolutely at his servant, Arthur walked over to the bathtub full of now steaming water and ran his hand through it. Merlin could see the bob of his throat as he swallowed carefully, obviously preparing himself to speak. Merlin closed his eyes in resignation as the man opened his mouth.

“It’s perfect.”

His eyes snapped open in shock. Wait, what?

And before he could process what’d just happened, he watched the King of Camelot bend over to take off his boots and socks, followed by pulling the tunic over his head, unlacing his breaches and pulling them down together with his undergarments. Pulling his clothes off, Arthur stepped into the tub and settled himself down comfortably, the clear, herbal-smelling water reaching up to his collarbones.

Merlin wasn’t proud to admit it had taken him a minute to pick up his jaw from where it had hit the floor.

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice pulled him out of his stupor.

“Y- Yes?”

“My hair needs washing.”

“Your… what?” 

“My hair ,” he repeated, irritated. “It’s dirty. Needs washing.”

Hair. Dirty. Washing. Right. Right!

Shaking the initial shock off, Merlin went to grab a vial from the cupboard and a stool, placing it next to where Arthur’s head was. With a shaky voice, he asked him to submerge completely to wet his hair first. This was hardly the first time Merlin had been asked to wash Arthur’s hair. It definitely wasn’t the first time he’d seen his friend naked. But seeing Arthur climb naked in the water Merlin had heated up with his magic, the same water Arthur had indirectly asked to be heated up that way, before being ordered to wash said friend’s hair - that very much was a brand new experience.

Attempting to put a stop to his inner turmoil, Merlin poured some of the herbal soap in his hands, lathering it up and reaching for Arthur’s hair. A part of him was still convinced his friend would recoil in disgust upon his touch, call him names and order him to get the hell out. But as he started carefully working the soap into Arthur’s hair, massaging his scalp, the terrifying moment passed, and instead he focused on the task at hand.

He loved taking care of Arthur. The man didn’t always allow it, rarely acknowledged it or appreciated it - at least not directly and definitely not verbally - but he enjoyed it regardless. Merlin had been saving Arthur’s life ever since they’d met without Arthur knowing. And there was so much he wanted to tell Arthur, so much to confess. But he could never have told him any of it.

So this - taking care of Arthur in this way, expressing his feelings without words, it was the only way to let Arthur know. Merlin wasn’t sure Arthur recognized it for what it was, but it made Merlin happy all the same.

He took his time moving his hands in circular motions across Arthur’s scalp, applying just the right amount of pressure through his fingers, slipping the hair in between them. Arthur’s hair always felt like silk. Merlin would remember these moments for months to come.

Arthur’s eyes were closed the whole time, face soft and relaxed, head tipped back or forward depending on the position of Merlin’s hands. It was the most peaceful Merlin had seen him in weeks.

When he couldn’t stall any longer, he regretfully retrieved his hands and asked the other man to sink fully under the water again to get rid of the biggest layer of soap. He then proceeded to grab a small bowl, reached over to fill it with bath water and poured it over Arthur’s head, fingers carding through his hair to help remove all the bubbles. He didn’t rush this process either, repeating the action more times than probably necessary.

He placed the bowl on the floor, hands coming back to stroke through Arthur’s hair under the excuse of making sure he got rid of all the residue. And before he knew it, he found himself pressing his fingertips to the base of Arthur’s skull, drawing tiny, circular motions and moving back and forth, giving the King an honest to God head massage.

As he became aware of his actions, he felt Arthur freeze up. Not as much as to pull away from Merlin, but noticeably so.

An apology on the tip of his tongue, Merlin was about to put some space between them, but before he could move away he felt Arthur press ever so slightly into his touch. Neither of them moving for a minute, Merlin assessed the situation, making sure they were on the same page, before resuming his ministrations and stroking along Arthur’s lower hairline and down his neck, vertebrae by vertebrae. Arthur tipped his head forward, making the access easier for him and relaxing into his touch.

Merlin could hardly make sense of everything that had happened in the past half an hour, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He decided to stop thinking for just this moment and make the most out of the situation, damn the consequences. And if he was going to Hell for this, he’d walk in there proudly, no regrets.

As he worked his way down, he reached Arthur’s broad shoulders and started kneading the knots in them. Trying to balance the pressure between too much and not enough, he pressed on one of the biggest ones at the shoulder-blade, earning a grunt from Arthur. He froze for a moment, not sure if he was about to be scolded for making it hurt, but when nothing happened, he repeated the action. Arthur started pressing back even firmer, which in turn made Merlin work even more efficiently, the whole thing making him high on excitement.

Holy hell, he was touching Arthur, naked Arthur, and Arthur was loving it!

It took him ages to work through all the knots and spasms in the King’s shoulders and the back, making his way to his upper arms as well -because why should he not? - and up his neck to his head just the way he’d started. It wasn’t until he noticed the goosebumps on Arthur’s arms that he realized how long he’d been at it, and that the water must have gotten cold again. Which was followed by another realization that it had apparently been long enough for another part of Merlin to become interested in the turn of events.

Bloody hell! Not now!

He tore his hands away in mortification and prayed to all the deities that Arthur wouldn’t notice.

However, the lack of Merlin’s hands on his body made Arthur snap out of his relaxed state and tense up.

“Arthur?” whispered Merlin, not knowing what he was asking for.

“You can go home, Merlin,” he said in a tone Merlin was not able to decipher but definitely didn’t like.

“What?”

“It’s late, I’ve kept you long enough. Get some sleep.”

Merlin wanted to argue that it was not in fact any later than usual, and that Arthur hadn’t even had dinner, and that Merlin still needed to get rid of the bathwater and get Arthur ready for the bed, but as he was about to stand up, he was reminded of his little problem and chose to take the easy way out instead.

“Right,” he squeaked, hoping Arthur wouldn’t turn around. “That’s very generous of you. I’ll see you in the morning then. Good night!” 

And without waiting for a response, he bolted, heart beating erratically. He rushed home, finding Gaius fast asleep - small mercies! - and shut himself in his room. Before he could start thinking and freak out again, he undressed in a whoosh, threw himself on the bed on his back and went straight for his cock.

Although his body’s reactions to Arthur had always been questionable at best, he didn’t remember ever being this hard. And anyway, it had been quite some time since he’d last indulged himself, not really feeling in the mood with all that had gone down.

Replaying all that had happened in the last hour, he started stroking himself without any finesse or rhythm. Remembering the feel of Arthur’s wet skin and how his hands had slid over it, Arthur’s hair slipping between his fingers, his soft grunts of pain-pleasure and the way he’d pressed himself into Merlin’s touch, strong and demanding. The way his body had given under Merlin’s hands, pliant, angling himself for easier access, letting Merlin know what he’d wanted. And Merlin had obliged, following his lead, unable to deny him.

As if he’d ever deny Arthur anything.

His orgasm shook him to his bones and he rushed to bite his lip before screaming Arthur’s name to the high heavens. A wave of exhaustion overtook him and he only managed a cursory clean-up before falling asleep the second his head hit the pillow, dreams filled with Arthur and the way he softly whispered perfect .

Arthur was mortified. Had this just happened? Did he- 

Oh, gods.

He had actually got aroused by his servant - no, scratch that, his friend! - washing his hair. And... yes...  by giving him a rather thorough massage. After a whole day of never-ending errands and commitments, it’d just felt so good. Could happen to anyone, right? He was exhausted and his body had just taken over without his consent. And Merlin’s hands were surprisingly skilled, large and strong, finding all the right places and rubbing, taking their time to loosen every single tight spot as they had glided over his shoulders and neck, then slid lower as far as they could have reached. Arthur wondered what else those hands could do...

A jolt of pleasure shot through his whole body at the thought, the stiffness between his legs making itself known again.

He shot up from the water with a loud splash, face aflame. He grabbed a clean cloth from where Merlin had put it over a chair and furiously rubbed himself dry. Now that he was paying more attention, he realized he was hungry, having sent Merlin home before he could have brought him dinner. It didn’t really matter as he didn’t think he would be able to stomach anything now anyway.

He threw the wet cloth on the pile of clothes he’d taken off that night, the pile that was still lying on the floor where he’d left it. The one Merlin hadn’t taken with him to wash before he’d bolted.

Yes, bolted. Had run away like someone had been chasing him. Oh, gods, what if he’d noticed the state Arthur had been in?! What if Arthur disgusted him?

Arthur wished the floor would open up and swallow him. He didn’t think he’d ever felt this ashamed in his entire life.

Hoping to shake the feeling off, he put on his sleeping clothes, blew the candles out and crawled into the bed, pulling the sheets up to his chin and desperately trying to find a comfortable position. To his horror, his erection had barely flagged since he’d got out of the bathtub and didn’t seem to be bothered by his guilt and shame.

He kept stubbornly trying to settle in and prayed a dreamless sleep would take him any minute.

That did not go according to plan.

Making peace with the fact he wasn’t about to get any shuteye unless he dealt with his problem, he flopped onto his back and angrily shoved his hand under the sheets to grab at his erection and started pulling hard and fast, the action more painful than pleasant, but he was determined to get it over with as fast as possible, no distractions.

However, the painful sensation delayed his release even further, which in turn made him angrier and his movement more furious, and before he knew how it happened, he started replaying the events of the night.

No! he screamed at himself internally. Not thinking about that!

How had it even come to this? When had this gone wrong?

Desperately trying to make sense of everything, he flashed back to the moment he’d walked through the door, seeing Merlin preparing a bath for him. Then the teasing, the fluttery feeling making itself known at the easy banter with his friend, and then the strange feeling that something hadn’t been right.

It might have been just a coincidence, but he was quite sure he had never actually seen Merlin prepare a bath for him. The sight of his servant pouring heated water from the bucket into the basin had seemed foreign but he’d ignored it at first. Then, as Merlin had started undressing him, familiar and comforting, he’d steered his mind to a safer territory, which had led him to think of the strangeness of the situation again. It had made him reach over and test the water temperature, and sure enough it had barely been warm. Merlin must have taken much longer than usual. Arthur had been quite confident he knew the reason.

Merlin must have been looking over his shoulder this whole time, tiptoeing around Arthur, trying not to set him off. The idea had made him see red.

In retrospect, it wasn’t the best way to deal, but Arthur had never been known for being level-headed.

And so he’d taunted Merlin, indirectly letting him know he’d wanted to see for himself just how much his friend had been keeping from him. He was remembering Merlin’s wide, fearful eyes as they had looked at him, not believing what he’d just heard. Remembering the hesitation, the hitch in Merlin’s breath and how it stopped altogether when he had reached towards the water, dipping his fingers in and then... his familiar blue eyes overtaken by gold.

Arthur came with a silent gasp before blacking out completely.

“Rise and shine, it’s a new day!”

Arthur was hit with a blast of light as his servant pulled the curtains apart. Annoyed, he turned away from the window, set on ignoring the wake up call when he noticed an uncomfortable feeling in his nether regions, the memories of last night suddenly waking him up like nothing else. He stayed frozen in his position on his left, sheets pulled up to his upper chest, face buried in the pillow to hide his flush.

With horror, he felt hands pulling at the sheets, trying to pry them off of him.

“Don’t be like that, Arthur, we don’t have all day.” Merlin’s voice was irritatingly chirpy, more so than usual, suspicious even. And his hands were still pulling at the sheets. Arthur held on for dear life.

“I’m awake! Leave me be!”

“That’s great but you have to get out of the bed, too. And get dressed. And eat your breakfast. Come on!”

The mention of having to dress up which usually followed after dressing down spurred the King into action.

“No!” he screamed, ripping the sheets out of his servant’s hands.

“Arthur,” said Merlin tiredly and now when Arthur looked at him, he noticed his dark under-eyes and worn down expression, a contradiction to how chipper he sounded.

“I’ll do it! Just give me a minute! I am-” he searched for an excuse. “I’m naked!”

“Arthur, that’s hardly a new, shocking development.” Merlin’s flush betrayed his words but they still managed to send Arthur reeling. They were both obviously remembering last night, despite Merlin trying to sound all unaffected.

“No! I mean... yes! I mean... I know that!” What the hell was wrong with him?! “Can you just...leave me to it? I’m confident I’m able to put my own clothes on.”

Merlin looked dubious and like he was about to argue some more, but eventually he gave up and went to pick up a pile of fresh clothes from the chair where he had it ready for Arthur. He held the pile to him and Arthur snatched it as if he was afraid it would disappear from in front of his eyes. Merlin grew more confused by the second.

“Turn around,” Arthur ordered.

“What?”

He took in a steadying breath. “I want to put them on. So turn around.”

Merlin huffed out a laugh. “Arthur, what are you on about? I always do this for you - don’t you think I’ve seen everything I could have?”

And now, he was sure he was red as a tomato. He felt his tightly wound control slipping. 

“For heaven’s sake, Merlin, I’m the King of Camelot and I’m bloody telling you to turn around!”

Merlin gaped, rendered speechless by Arthur’s outburst, opening and closing his mouth before clamping it shut, a hurt look flashing across his eyes. He wordlessly turned his back to him, at last, shoulders slumping.

Arthur acted before the guilt could settle in, slipped from under the sheets and ran over to hide behind the changing screen.

“You can turn back now,” he called when he was safely hidden from Merlin’s view. He stripped his pants down in disgust and hurried to put the clothes on. When he was done, he held the soiled piece of garment in his hands, wondering what to do with those. It wouldn’t be the first time Merlin had the misfortune of washing some questionable substances from Arthur’s clothes, but given the recent events, he decided not to take chances. He would just burn the bloody thing.

When he walked out from behind the screen, Merlin had already picked up his yesterday’s clothes and started stripping down the bed. He looked resigned and somehow smaller than usual. Not that Merlin was a small man, but he didn’t exactly take up much space. Guilt pierced through Arthur like a sword.

“Leave it,” he heard himself say. Merlin’s head shot up to stare at him.

“What?”

“Just leave it, I’ll get someone else to do it. The bathwater, too. You’ve already brought me breakfast. Why don’t you take the day off?”

Merlin’s expression darkened at that. “I don’t want a day off,” he spat like it was a dirty word. 

“What?” Arthur laughed incredulously. “You don’t want a day off?”

Merlin released a sigh, straightening up from where he was crouched over the bed. “Arthur, you gave me an early night yesterday, not to mention the... full week of holiday just recently.” He looked uncomfortable saying that, not sure if the topic was safe or not. “I’m plenty rested, really. I just want to do my job.” And at that, he turned his pleading eyes to Arthur, hoping he got the meaning.

Oh, Arthur got it alright.

He cleared his throat, looking away. “Alright,” he whispered. “Thank you, Merlin.”

At that, the servant’s shoulders visibly relaxed and he went back to finishing his task, while Arthur took a seat at the table and busied himself with wolfing down his breakfast. Hell, he was starving.

After the bed was stripped, Merlin picked up the pile of clothes and made his way out.

“I’ll be back for the bathtub shortly,” he called over his shoulder, Arthur acknowledging him with an absent nod. When he was halfway out the door, Arthur’s voice rang across the room.

“It was ten days.”

“What?”

“I gave you a week off but you were gone for ten days.”

“Right.” Merlin said in a light tone. “Well, you see here. Definitely don’t need any more holiday.”

Arthur finally lifted his head from the breakfast, fixing his eyes on the other man. “It would seem not,” he started slowly. He was battling with himself, not sure whether to say more. But... he needed to make sure of something first. 

“I suppose that means you are stuck with me for the foreseeable future, then.”

The five seconds it took Merlin to reply were one of the longest in Arthur’s life.

“Yes,” came in a whisper. “That would seem like a logical assumption.”

The hope that lit up Merlin’s eyes set Arthur’s soul on fire.

Arthur expected it to be a fairly uneventful day, compared to the previous one, but as life would have it, he received word that a group of bandits was terrorizing a small village only a few hours ride from Camelot. On any other occasion, he would send his knights alone to deal with the scam. Since he had nothing of import on the agenda today, he decided to ride with them. And honestly, he was ready for a change of scenery. Last weeks had riled him up and he was just itching to punch someone.

“Go pack up, Merlin, we’ll be leaving shortly,” he told Merlin as he placed Arthur’s lunch in front of him.

“Where are we going?” he asked, surprised. Arthur shared the sentiment. It would be their first assignment together since... Since.

“A group of armed men is trespassing on Camelot’s lands. They’ve already threatened citizens in a village three hours' swift ride from here. The word is there are not many, but enough to cause more disturbances if left alone, so I’d rather deal with them straight away. Apologies for the short notice.”

Merlin was nodding excitedly before Arthur even finished talking, and started packing up briskly. Arthur stood up and reached for his sword, meaning to give it a cursory sharpening just in case. Merlin spoke up before he got to it.

“What are you doing? You won’t eat lunch?”

“No time.”

“No no no, we won’t be back until late at night and that’s assuming everything goes smoothly. You need to eat.”

“Unlike you, Merlin, I’m not always thinking about food. I will live,” he said dismissively and went for the sharpener but Merlin’s hand around his forearm halted the action.

“I’m not dealing with your hungry, moody self if I can help it. Seriously, Arthur, sit down and eat your damn lunch!” he ordered and pushed at his shoulders until he was forced to sit back down, too stunned to think of a comeback, his servant’s little show of domination leaving him speechless for a full minute. Arthur automatically reached for a piece of bread and ham and popped it in his mouth absently, Merlin watching over him to make sure that he did as told. Arthur swallowed with some difficulties before working up the nerve to defend himself.

“I’m the King, Merlin,” he mumbled, not really convincing. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

He didn’t know if he wanted to wipe off the little, self-satisfied smirk that appeared on the other man’s face or do something entirely different.

“I always have.” Merlin grinned wider. “I’m not going to change now.”

“I don’t want you to change,” Arthur hurried to say without thinking. If the widening of Merlin’s eyes was any indication, he didn’t expect it either. 

Already at the edge of an abyss, Arthur decided to leap.

“I want you to... to always ... be you.”

Merlin was unusually quiet during the ride. Not even Gwaine could get him to talk more than a few words in succession. Arthur suspected it had to do with the brief moment of... emotional expression. Well, on Arthur’s part anyway. The look in his friend’s eyes as Arthur basically admitted he lo-... liked him for who he was would be burned in his memory forever. For the first time in their lives, he had made the idiot speechless.

Merlin would flick his gaze between the road and Arthur in regular intervals, making Arthur burn under the armor.

Elyan gave a signal to stop about two hours into their quest, most likely finding footprints in the soil. He and Lancelot dismounted, following the clues, while Arthur, Merlin, Leon and Gwaine stayed on their horses, proceeding with caution.

Arthur had his sword out before the first bolt flew by him.

Everyone sprung into action at the same time. Arthur assessed the situation quickly. True to the word, the bandits were scarce, but unfortunately well-equipped with weapons. He was able to take care of the first two fairly easily, and it seemed that the others were doing just as well.

In his peripheral vision, Arthur saw one of the cowards trying to make a run for it, and he bolted after him, following him deeper into the woods and separating himself from the rest of the group. The man suddenly stopped and turned around to face Arthur. Arthur pointed his sword in the man’s direction in challenge.

“Are we done running away, now?”

He didn’t like the smirk that answered him.

“You certainly are.”

“Arthur!” 

Merlin’s panicked voice cut through him and he spun around to come face to face with another of the bandits, or rather a crossbow pointing straight at him. Frozen on the spot, he found Merlin’s terrified face a few yards behind the man and opened his mouth to say something.

In a fraction of a second, he watched the man in front him be thrown through the air by an invisible force, followed by a scream and a thump behind him, indicating that the other man had received the same treatment. Confused, he searched out Merlin’s face again, the blue of his eyes taking over with the last bits of gold flickering out like a candlelight. The fear hadn’t left him, and Arthur suspected it was for a different reason now.

“I saw him follow you here,” Merlin explained unnecessarily, voice shaking and body following suit. Arthur could do nothing but stare, too overcome with emotion to do anything else.

He’d seen this before. Merlin had saved his life before. Countless times! All the times he’d come this close to finish line, thinking odds were in his favor. That - somehow - he’d just been so damn lucky to get out.

Luck had never had anything to do with it.

Except... that his lucky charm had always been with him, fighting by his side. Protecting him.

Arthur had known, of course, on some level. He’d spent all this time since that incident with Uther thinking and reevaluating his life, the whole time he’d spent with Merlin since the man had come into his life. But that’s all it had been - thinking.

Finally seeing a proof changed everything.

He dropped the sword and strode towards the other man, mind made up.

“He was a second from firing that bolt, Arthur. I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do. He would kill you and I couldn’t-  Arthur?” 

His babbling was cut short when Arthur grabbed him by the shoulders of his jacket and walked him back until Merlin’s back hit a tree. Merlin tensed up with a mixture of panic and resignation, eyes shining with unshed tears, desperately trying to make Arthur see, to understand.

“Arthur, please...”

“You said you use it only for me,” he blurted out, more of a statement than a question.

Merlin blinked in confusion before understanding dawned on him, his exhale coming out ragged..

“Yes,” he all but whispered, defeated.

Arthur nodded, as if confirming something to himself.

“You meant it,” another not-really question.

Merlin’s eyes brimmed with tears, brows scrunching up as in pain. He closed his eyes before opening them slowly, looking straight at Arthur with something Arthur couldn’t make out.

“Yes.”

Arthur couldn’t listen to any more pain lacing Merlin’s voice so, mind made up, he put a stop to it the only way he saw acceptable right now and crashed his lips to Merlin’s. The kiss was bruising, all force and no finesse, more teeth than flesh, and he didn’t care one bit, his body on fire, burning from the inside.

He clung to Merlin desperately while the other man remained unmoving, eyes blown wide open. His hands latched onto Arthur’s arms, not pushing or pulling, just resting there.

While Merlin didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, Arthur was shaking, kissing Merlin uncoordinatedly, his whole being singing with an undeniable sense of right.

He came to his senses after a while, doubt creeping up since Merlin hadn’t reciprocated, and Arthur was hit with a dreadful thought that he’d forced himself upon him.

Bile rising in his throat, he tore himself away, staring at Merlin’s dumbstruck face. He swallowed down the bile that had risen in his throat and began untangling himself from the other man but he didn’t get far before Merlin’s hands, still resting on his arms, halted his movement.

He searched Merlin’s face, uncomprehending, and while Merlin didn’t move otherwise, Arthur couldn’t find a trace of disgust he was fearing. Merlin was just watching him with this blown away look, with confusion and... could it be hope?

Working up his nerve, Arthur gravitated towards him again, slowly leaning in this time in case Merlin wanted to make a run for it, but when nothing happened he kept closing in until his lips were hovering over Merlin’s. Stopping for a couple of seconds to make absolutely sure he wasn’t assaulting him - again - he determined that it was safe to proceed and he claimed Merlin’s lips once more.

This time he was gentle and collected but definitely didn’t hold back. Kissing Merlin felt like coming home. And it got even better when, to his utter bewilderment, Merlin started kissing him back.

It felt like Merlin was just testing the waters at first, somehow still unsure that he was allowed - or even welcomed - to do this. He began with pressing ever so slightly against Arthur’s mouth, grasping his arms tighter, fingers digging into his biceps. When, to Arthur’s complete shock, he opened his mouth just a fraction and let the tip of his tongue flick across Arthur’s upper lip, like getting a taste, it was positively a moan that bubbled up Arthur’s throat, making him press Merlin harder against the tree and himself against Merlin, and just take, kissing Merlin like a parched man who just found an oasis.

Merlin answered with a moan of his own, hands leaving Arthur’s arms and latching onto his hair and pulling, pulling desperately, pulling him closer, and he gave as good as he got. Arthur wished he could go on forever, and he would if Lancelot’s voice didn’t make him pull away. 

“Merlin! Arthur!”

Merlin looked at him in panic, which Arthur assumed was reflected on his own face. Whether it was due to realization of what had just happened, or the possibility the others might have seen, he wasn’t sure, but he took a few steps away regardless, leaving Merlin slumped against the tree, eyes wide, hair clinging to his forehead damp with sweat, lips red and swollen, and just bloody beautiful.

They could eventually see Lancelot coming closer, sword still in his hand and ready to fight again if necessary. He stopped a few yards from them, looking them over, checking for any injuries before he spotted the two of the bandits, probably dead, lying motionless on the ground.

He alternated between looking at Merlin and Arthur, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Are you alright?” He fixed his eyes on Merlin this time. “I saw you running after the one who followed Arthur here.”

Merlin opened his mouth to come up with a reply but Arthur was faster.

“It’s perfectly fine. Merlin helped take care of them.”

Lancelot stared at Arthur, processing his words before looking at Merlin again, taking in his disheveled appearance, anxiety coming off of him in waves, and he came to a conclusion.

Arthur held his breath.

“You know,” he said to Arthur and... wait, what?

Arthur’s nose scrunched up in confusion. “What?”

“You know about Merlin.”

“Lance,” Merlin said with a warning, shaking his head minutely.

Lancelot visibly froze, as if realizing he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

Arthur’s heart clenched painfully when understanding hit him. He turned to stare at Merlin accusingly.

“You told him ?” he spat out, hurt and confused, teeth grinding together.

Lancelot’s head shot up and he obviously took a second to realize the question wasn’t aimed at him, turning to look at Merlin with worry and an apology written across his face.

Merlin ignored him in favor of looking at Arthur, his eyes carrying guilt and an apology of their own.

“Arthur, I can explain,” he begged, taking a step towards him. And Arthur might have let him, too desperate to understand despite the hurt and anger, but then the rest of his men came running towards them.

“What’s going on?” Leon demanded, flicking his gaze between the three, obviously picking up on the tension in the air.

Lancelot was the first one to regain his composure. 

“I was just checking on them. Everything is alright, no one has been hurt.” 

Leon narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Splendid. Then... what are you still doing here?”

“Nothing,” replied Arthur, tearing his gaze away from Merlin, going back to pick up his sword and making his way back to the horses, but not fast enough to miss the pained look on Merlin’s face. He passed by Lancelot, shoulders brushing in the process not exactly gently, and he spared him a brief, judging glance.

“What’s wrong with the Princess?” he heard Gwaine ask, and didn’t even have the strength to call him out on the annoying nickname.

Arthur rushed to get back to Camelot, justifying his urgency under the excuse of wanting to get back before midnight. It wasn’t even a lie. He just wanted to be alone right now.

He led his horse to the stables to deal with as fast as possible and headed to his chambers straight after before any of the knights could question his strange behaviour directly.

He didn’t bother taking his armor off and began pacing around in circles before slumping into a chair.

He had been such an idiot!

After having spent days, weeks almost, trying to come to terms with the facts -

Merlin has magic, Merlin has been lying to him, Merlin has betrayed him, he trusted him and he’s lied to him all this time, Merlin is a sorcerer, his father executes sorcerers, magic is outlawed, magic is dangerous

no, this is Merlin, his Merlin, Merlin is not dangerous, Merlin is his idiot servant, his goofy friend, his best friend, his only friend, all boyish charm and kind heart and stupid ideas

it’s been a lie, none of it is real, he has been manipulated, he’s the King and he needs to abide by Camelot’s rules, there is no place for magic in the kingdom, he needs to protect his people

his people don’t need protection from Merlin, the people love him, he’s a good man, he helps people, he’s trustworthy, he’s always there, he said he would always be there for Arthur, he promised -  

after all of that, he was back at the beginning, starting to question everything he thought he had figured out. It took him so long to admit his feelings, to decide he’d wanted to give them another chance.

Where did this leave him? Where did it leave them?

It had been such an emotional roller-coaster since the night with his father. After having to make that difficult choice, he’d found himself having to make even harder one.

The morning he’d told Merlin to take the week off, he hadn’t been sure of his next course of action. It had all been too fresh, too painful and confusing.

He’d spent days thinking of the implications. The facts were simple - Merlin had magic, was born with it apparently, and he’d been using it without Arthur knowing. What was he even capable of? And the fact that the truth had come out thanks to his father, his father who had hated magic with his whole being, even in death. His father whose death had been caused by magic.

Arthur wasn’t his father. He knew of the dangers of magic, had found himself at the receiving end of several evil spells, but despite all that... he knew that things were rarely black and white. He’d seen magic help people. In his desperation, he’d even turned to a sorcerer for help.

Just like his father had.

No matter how much he’d gone over this, he hadn’t come up with a solution. It hadn’t been until the week was up and he’d braced himself for the first encounter with his servant after all that time, assuming Merlin would pop into Arthur’s chambers to wake him up, carrying a tray of breakfast.

As he’d waited for Merlin to barge in as usual - no, wait, last time Merlin had knocked, he had bloody knocked, holding the ridiculously posh breakfast, and why had he knocked in the first place, that wasn’t supposed to happen! - as the time went by, he’d realized, with a sinking stomach, that Merlin wasn’t going to show up.

The thought had made him spring from where he had been sitting on his bed, waiting, and he’d made a beeline for Gaius’ quarters. He hadn’t bothered knocking, slamming the door open instead, no greeting whatsoever.

“Where is he?” he’d demanded, waiting for the physician to gather his bearings after the initial shock.

“Merlin?”

“Yes, Merlin, my useless, unreliable servant who was supposed to attend to me this morning. Do I look ready for the day to you?” he’d gestured to himself, still clad in his sleepwear.

Gaius had given him a cursory once-over. 

“I don’t understand, sire. You’ve given him time off.”

Arthur had ground his teeth. “I gave him a week. It’s been a week. Today is the eighth day. Last time I checked, there were only seven in one!”

Gaius had done his famous, irritating eyebrow lift. “Of course. Merlin’s gone to visit his mother. It’s been a while for them.”

The answer hadn’t made Arthur feel any better. Why had it felt like Merlin wouldn’t be coming back?

“When is he going to be back?”

Gaius sighed. “I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

Arthur’s heart had clenched painfully and he’d strode across the room, heading straight to Merlin’s room.

“Arthur,” the physician had called, following him but Arthur hadn’t paid him any mind, instead scanning Merlin’s room and taking in the made up bed - which was the only tidy thing in the room - piles of clothes scattered around and he’d opened one of the cupboards to check its contents, finding it half-full with clothes and releasing a shaky breath he’d not realized he’d been holding. He’d closed the cupboard and turned to Gaius, finding him looking at him with pity.

“I’m sure he’ll be coming back shortly, Arthur,” he’d said soothingly, as if calming a wild animal. Had Arthur really been that obvious?

“He’d better make sure it’s sooner than soon, otherwise he’s going to find himself unemployed,” he’d grumbled and made his way out, but his gaze had fallen upon a large book on Merlin’s bedside table. He’d seen something like that before.

He’d gone over and touched it reverently before opening it on a random page, breath hitching.

A book of spells.

Right, because Merlin was a... he was a sorcerer.

A hand had touched his shoulder, stealing his attention.

“He cares for you a great deal, Arthur. He would never leave you.” Gaius had paused, maybe for the dramatic effect, maybe because he hadn’t known if he should proceed. “Not unless you ask him to.”

Arthur’s head had shot up in panic. He’d stared at Gaius in shock, unable to come up with a reply, but his expression had made the old man smile for some reason.

“I know it’s a lot to take in. And you have every right to feel the way you feel.” He’d squeezed Arthur’s shoulder to make a point. “But I promise you, Arthur, if you let him in, it will all make sense eventually.” He’d lowered his voice at the next part, as if telling a secret. “One day you will learn. One day you will understand... just how much he’s done for you.”

It had been that day that Arthur had realized that no matter what happened, he couldn’t let Merlin go. That he cared too much. And the feeling of his heart being torn to shreds at the thought, or at hearing Gaius speak of Arthur asking Merlin to leave , was proof enough.

But now... now he knew that Lancelot knew too. He’d known before Arthur. Merlin trusted him more than he trusted Arthur!

A knock on his door pulled him back to the present moment.

He panicked.

It was too soon, he wasn’t ready!

“Not now,” he called weakly, hoping that Merlin would take the hint, but the knocking came back, more insistent this time.

“I said not now!” he screamed, desperate. He didn’t expect the door to fly open, despite his wishes, and reveal Lancelot on the other side instead.

“Apologies, sire, if you’re not feeling up for a conversation, but I must insist.” He walked in without invitation, closing the door behind him.

Arthur’s expression darkened, his voice following suit.

“Leave.”

Lancelot stood tall. “No, we need to talk. Or not, I will talk and you will listen.”

Arthur bristled, standing up in fury.

“You won’t give me orders. I’m your King,” he emphasized the word.

“Then act like one! Or is it a common thing that King,” he said in mock imitation of Arthur, “avoids problems instead of finding resolution?”

Well, when put like that...

Arthur clenched his jaw, hands balling into fists. “Fine, do your bidding, although I have no idea what you could tell me that would change anything.”

“That’s alright, you’ll get the idea in a bit,” he said dismissively and strode towards Arthur, close enough to make him feel like he needed to hide.

“Merlin didn’t tell me,” he started and Arthur scoffed. Lancelot chastised him with a look. “ He didn’t tell me - I found out.”

Arthur blinked in surprise, paying attention, although still skeptical.

“It was shortly after we met. When I defeated the Griffin. Well, the truth is I didn’t defeat it. Merlin did. He enchanted the spear to become strong enough to pierce through the Griffin’s flesh, and then I killed it. Merlin must have thought he was being discreet, but it’s hard to hide magic when it starts glowing in your hand. And I’m not an idiot to begin with."

Arthur was speechless, shoulders slumping in defeat as all the fight bleed out of him. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

What an idiot he was

Lancelot came closer, hand touching Arthur’s shoulder lightly, not sure if he was allowed.

“Arthur, there is no one Merlin holds dearer to his heart. You must know this,” he spoke softly. “I don’t know how you know, whether you found out on your own or if Merlin told you, but whichever it is, it does not matter .” he emphasized.

“How does it not matter?”

Lancelot smiled in empathy, catching his eyes and holding his gaze.

“Because you feel the same way."

Arthur was sitting on the bed, anxiously waiting for another knock to come at his door. Before Lancelot had left, Arthur had asked him to send Merlin his way. Lancelot was right. Nothing mattered more than what he had with Merlin. He needed to fix it.

At last, Arthur heard three, reluctant knocks. He took a deep breath.

“Come in.”

When Merlin walked in, he looked as scared as Arthur felt.

“Lancelot said you wanted to see me?” he asked, like he wasn’t sure that was the case.

Arthur stood up, nodding in confirmation. “Yes, I did.” He bit his lip. “I do.”

Considering how Merlin’s eyes widened in a pleasant surprise, it had been the right thing to say.

“Arthur, I-”

“Stop,” he ordered gently. It came out more as a plea. “It’s alright, Merlin,” he continued, “Lancelot told me everything.”

Merlin looked about ready to cry in relief.

“I wanted to tell you,” Merlin rushed to say, not sure how much time he had. “I’d been wanting to tell you for so long, so many times. All I ever wanted was for you to know who I really am.”

He sounded so broken Arthur just wanted to wrap him in his arms and never let go.

“I know who you are,” he said. “You’re Merlin.”

At that, Merlin did start crying, tears streaming down his cheeks and shoulders shaking. He sniffled a few times and wiped at his face, looking straight at Arthur. Looking at him in a way that made Arthur feel like the most precious thing in the world.

“Yes,” he agreed, “and I belong to you.”

Yes.

And I, you.

“Merlin.”

“Yeah?” replied Merlin, wiping his eyes dry and trying to pull himself together.

“Help me out of my armor,” Arthur prompted, wanting Merlin close.

Merlin didn’t move at first, too stunned at the demand to do much of anything, but when the words registered, he sprung to action, walking briskly towards his King.

He hesitated when he reached him, hands hanging midair, silently asking if it was really alright. Arthur nodded ever so slightly. Merlin got to his task, unclasping and unlacing and pulling, the sound of metal clanging in the otherwise silent room.

Merlin would like to take his time. It felt like forever since he’d done this last, which was ridiculous - it was a regular thing for him. Despite that, his hands were shaking uncontrollably and he ended up stripping Arthur of his armor like it was offending him, until the King was standing there clad only in his breaches and red tunic.

They just kept looking at each other, unmoving.

“Merlin.” 

Arthur could see the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed with difficulty.

“Yeah?”

“Will you draw a bath for me?” he asked and watched, amused, as the other man blinked sheepishly before nodding.

“Of course,” Merlin replied and walked towards the door.

“And Merlin?”

“Yeah?”

Arthur smiled. “I don’t mind the water being cold.”

The joy that lit up Merlin’s face just made Arthur’s day.

It wasn’t too long before there was a bathtub full of fresh water placed in the middle of Arthur’s chambers, smelling sweetly of herbs. He watched in fascination as Merlin placed some of his fingers in the water and...

Merlin hesitated, looking up at Arthur questioningly.

“Do it,” he reassured him, impatient to see what happened next.

Merlin smiled and in the next moment, his eyes lit up and steam appeared, rising from the water. Arthur didn’t pay it any mind, eyes fixed on Merlin’s.

In the imitation of last night, which felt so far away right now, he stripped himself off the rest of his clothes and walked over to the bathtub, stepping over the edge and sinking down with a grunt of pleasure.

Next to him, Merlin made a sound Arthur couldn’t interpret.

“Would you-” his servant stuttered, clearing his throat. “Would you like me to wash your back?” His voice came out nervous and... hopeful.

As amazing as that sounded, that was not what Arthur wanted right now.

“No,” he declined, seeing Merlin’s face fall from the corner of his eye.

“Okay,” he whispered brokenly, shifting on his feet.

“Merlin.”

“Hm?”

“Get in here.”

“What?”

Arthur’s exhale was more of a sigh. “Take your dirty clothes off and get in the water.”

Merlin didn’t move a hair.

“You want me to-” he cut himself off, the words catching in his throat.

“Are you daft?”

“Hey!” he protested. “That’s not fair!”

“Then what are you still doing there? Get in here, I won’t repeat myself,” he snapped before losing all the fire. “Unless.... unless, of course, you don’t want to,” he added, uncertainty suddenly making itself known. Had he read it all wrong? 

“I can’t force you. I would never-”

“No!” yelled Merlin, too loud from where he was standing right next to the bathtub. “I mean... I don’t-  You wouldn’t-” He grunted in frustration. “I do. Want to, that is.”

Arthur turned to him for the first time. “Good,” he mumbled. “What are you waiting for then?”

Merlin bit his lip, looking anywhere but Arthur. “It’s never going to fit us both.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “It will if we are chest to back.”

Merlin’s disbelieving expression was priceless. Arthur wished he were a painter so he could capture it.

“Right,” Merlin said but didn’t give any indication of moving from his spot.

“Well?” pressed Arthur, losing both his patience and nerves. Before he could lose it completely, Merlin started reluctantly tugging at his neckerchief, undoing the knot and pulling it off. Something must have shifted in him because as the first piece of garment came off, landing on the floor, the rest of his clothes followed in a much smoother fashion.

Arthur wasn’t outright staring, for both the preservation of his own sanity and Merlin’s dignity, but he could see Merlin hesitating with his pants. But he seemed to gather up his courage and in the next second, he was standing there naked.

He hurried to get in the water, nerves apparently getting to him now. He stepped over the edge with one leg first, just as Arthur had done before, and was about to step in completely and place himself in front of Arthur, but the King stopped him with a hand around his wrist.

“No,” he shook his head softly. “The other way around.” And he pulled Merlin in that direction.

Merlin’s eyes bulged out so far they were in danger of popping straight out of their sockets. 

“Oh,” he quipped. “Okay.” And followed Arthur’s lead.

Arthur scooted a bit forward to make room for Merlin, and Merlin stepped behind him, carefully lowering himself down and adjusting his body so his legs wouldn’t be in the way but would come around Arthur instead. Arthur couldn’t see it, but he was quite sure Merlin was red as a tomato.

Merlin finally settled into place but otherwise didn’t know what to do with himself, body rigid.

Arthur shuffled back until he felt Merlin’s long, slender legs aligned with his own, and pressed his back into Merlin’s chest. “Just... Just hold me,” he asked. “Please.”

He heard Merlin whimper, and next he felt his equally long arms come around him, sliding under his underarms and wrapping around his chest, one hand resting on Arthur’s ribs and the other settling over his heart.

Arthur sighed in relief, body relaxing into Merlin, hands coming up to rest on Merlin’s forearms, keeping him in place, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d never felt this safe in his entire life.

He shut his eyes in hopes of preventing himself from crying, and let his head fall back on Merlin’s shoulder. The position allowed Merlin to rest his chin on Arthur’s shoulder in return.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, but was more likely just several minutes. Every so often Merlin would exhale a bit more forcefully and the air would tickle Arthur’s neck. He could feel Merlin’s nose pressing into his hair just behind his ear, breathing him in, and at those moments he could feel Merlin’s heartbeat pick up, the vibration entering his body through his back where they were connected and his own heart answering in the same way, knowing that Merlin felt it through his hand. Like their hearts were beating in sync.

“Why did you never tell me?” Arthur heard himself ask, breaking the silence. He felt Merlin tense up behind him.

“I... There were... many reasons. And there was always the possibility of you chopping my head off,” he tried for humor but it came out broken.

“Never,” Arthur objected. “I’d never do that.” No, he wouldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t.  

“No, I don’t think you would,” Merlin agreed, pulling Arthur tighter to his chest. “That was hardly the worst thing I could imagine.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, assuming the worst. “That would never happen either. I would never have you b-burn at the stake. I know I’ve given you plenty of reasons to think the worst of me, especially when we first met, but I’m not my father. I don’t hate magic, I just...” 

He didn’t know exactly how he felt. It was a combination of curiosity and apprehension, not unlike when you’re going some place you’ve never been before.

“That’s not what I meant,” disagreed Merlin. “I was afraid that you... that you would hate me. That you would tell me to leave and never come back. That’s what scared me the most. Being separated from you.”

Arthur blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over. 

“I...” He thought back on what happened after the big revelation. “I spent a lot of time thinking about my next course of action, after I told you to... after I gave you the week off,” he corrected himself, choosing his words carefully. “I was thinking about what kind of man I was, what kind of man my father was, and what kind of man you were and.... where did that leave me. Where did that leave us. I knew my father was wrong , about so many things, how hatred had consumed him and innocent people paid for it. I knew I could never hurt you like that. But I wasn’t sure I could let you stay either.”

He felt Merlin stiffen as Arthur’s words confirmed his worst fears.

“But,” he continued, “when the week was up and I expected you to show up the next morning and you... you didn’t.” He shuddered at the memory, “I panicked. I thought you had left. That you had left and hadn’t even said goodbye. I thought I’d never see you again.”

Merlin whimpered like he was the one re-living a painful memory. 

“Is that why you were so upset with me?” he asked but didn’t wait for Arthur to answer. “Arthur, I would never. I belong with you. Always and forever, as long as you’ll have me.”

Arthur felt something inside him unclench and shift into place.

“I’m still mad at you, just so you know,” he grumbled with no real heat.

“I know,” said Merlin with a touch of guilt in his voice. “I wish you heard it from me. It’s the least you deserved. I hate the way you found out.”

“Me too,” he agreed, thinking back on how it was his dead father who’d told him, his father who’d despised magic above anything else.

“For what it’s worth,” he added, “I understand your reasoning. I think you were right to have doubts about me. To be honest, I don’t know what I would have done,” he admitted with shame. He felt Merlin’s lips press into his hair, a gesture meant to assure him he was forgiven.

“I know,” Merlin soothed. “And I didn’t want to put you in that position.”

Arthur released the grip he had on Merlin, pushing away regretfully so he could turn around far enough to look at him.

“ That is what worried you?” he asked in disbelief.

Merlin was such an idiot. A clumsy, ridiculous, self-sacrificing, wonderful idiot.

Merlin let his gaze drop, seemingly in thought, and a gentle smile appeared on his lips.

“Some men are born to... plough fields. Some are meant to be great physicians. Others...” He lifted his gaze to meet Arthur’s “To be great kings.”

Arthur could feel his lips quirking up in a half-smile despite himself.

“Me?” Merlin continued, one of his hands coming up to brush across Arthur’s forehead, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes and tucking it behind his ear, before letting it rest on his neck. 

“I was born to serve you Arthur. And I’m proud of that.” 

The way he smiled at him made Arthur feel like he was breaking into a million pieces and being put together in a way completely different, and absolutely, undoubtedly, wonderfully right. 

“And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Arthur had no idea that the way he pressed his lips to Merlin’s could be any more desperate than the first time in the woods, but somehow, it was. Ten fold. The fact they were both naked made everything so much worse and so much better. He clung to Merlin desperately, hands tangling in his hair, digging into his neck, pulling him close by his shoulders, pushing his tongue in Merlin’s mouth and just tasting him.

And Merlin didn’t hold back this time, far from it. He held Arthur in place by his neck with one hand, the other pulling at Arthur’s side to turn him towards him so they were chest to chest. Now, it was clear to Arthur that Merlin wasn’t the most experienced kisser in the kingdom, too uncoordinated and clumsy, but the way he bit at Arthur’s lips, then soothed them with his tongue before pushing past them and searching out Arthur’s tongue, tangling them together, chasing each other like it was a game... Somehow, it turned out to be the best kiss of Arthur’s life.

At one moment, Merlin pulled away ever so slightly, breaking the kiss to take a breath, cheeks flushed and pupils blown so wide they were almost black.

Arthur wouldn’t have it, unwilling to be separated from Merlin for a single second. He hoisted himself up, sitting on his heels and shuffled forward until he was straddling Merlin, knees on either side of his thighs. His cock had started to fill up almost immediately after he tasted Merlin, but now it was standing at full attention. As he leaned forward to press their chests together, he was stricken and delighted to find Merlin in a similar predicament. Groaning at the feeling, he pressed forward and down, sliding them together, gaining a startled gasp from Merlin. He took advantage of Merlin’s parted mouth and latched himself onto his bottom lip, sucking it in and then paying the same attention to his upper lip.

Out of the blue, Merlin slipped his hands down, over Arthur’s hips to grasp at his cheeks and thrust his hips up, forcing Arthur to detach his mouth in order to take a lungful of air. Before he could process, he felt Merlin’s mouth on his throat, kissing and licking at his Adam's apple, the side of his neck, behind his ear. He stopped just below his jawline, parted his lips and sucked.

Arthur yelped, one of his hands shooting up to tangle in Merlin’s hair. He thought he was about to pull at it, to pry Merlin off because it was just too much. To his utter surprise, he ended up pressing Merlin even more into his neck, clinging to him for a dear life. He wanted to do something, to kiss Merlin again, on his neck too, his bony shoulders, his pale chest, his sharp hip bones, his... his cock. And he wanted to touch all those places too. Map Merlin’s whole body with his lips and fingers, worship him as he deserved. Show him how much he was... how much he was loved.

In the end, he didn’t get to do any of those things because the next moment, Merlin’s hands that had been grasping at Arthur’s bottom suddenly inched inward, out of their own volition, and as some of his fingers brushed in between Arthur’s cheeks, in combination with Merlin’s relentless mouth and Arthur’s wandering thoughts, Arthur felt his body lock up as pleasure built up in his belly, and he came, untouched, with a loud scream, automatically pressing into Merlin’s lips and hands.

As he came down from his high, shaking and flushed with both pleasure and embarrassment, he dared a look at Merlin, who was staring at him in shock, mouth agape.

“Did you just-?” He started to ask, disbelief evident in his voice.

“Shut up!” Arthur shouted defensively, red to the tips of his ears, and started pulling away but Merlin stopped him.

“Hey, no... don’t do that,” he begged, pulling him back down and into his lap, and Arthur couldn’t resist. “That was so incredibly sexy ,” he finished, breathless and dumbstruck.

Arthur looked at him dubiously, not buying it. 

“Embarrassing, is what it was,” he whined. “I swear this has never happened before.”

Merlin chuckled good-naturedly. “Oh, really.” A pleased smirk appeared on his lips. “Is it just me, then? Or... did I do something you liked?” he teased and Arthur was hit with such humiliation he shot up from Merlin’s lap and out of the water, turning his back to him.

“Arthur,” Merlin called without a single sign of teasing this time, but amusement was still evident in his voice. Arthur heard a splash and he guessed Merlin just stepped out of the bathtub too, but he refused to turn around.

“Arthur, there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. I was hoping to make you feel good and when you...” He seemed to struggle through that part. “When you came, just like that , just from me touching you like that...” He paused again, catching his breath. “Gods, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The way he said it made Arthur shudder with desire all over again. He could feel his defensiveness slipping away and something else taking its place. He gathered up his courage and slowly turned around.

Merlin was standing only a few feet away, droplets of water traveling down his body, looking at Arthur with the same desire that laced his words. Arthur took this opportunity to finally look him over, taking in his slender frame, the surprisingly broad shoulders, the scattering of hair across his chest, leading to his cock, his cock that was still erect because he meant it when he had said Arthur was sexy. He was beautiful, and perfect, and Arthur had never wanted anything in his life as much as he wanted Merlin.

His legs carried him over to Merlin without his explicit consent and he reached for his wrist to pull him towards the bed. Merlin went willingly, seemingly up for anything Arthur wanted. And oh, he wanted.

He pushed Merlin back to settle on the edge of the bed. 

“Sit.”

And Merlin did as told, eyes never leaving Arthur, expecting and so blue.

“Fetch me a pillow,” Arthur instructed and Merlin did.

Arthur threw the pillow on the floor in front of Merlin’s feet and then, to Merlin’s utter shock, slid to his knees until he settled on it. He lifted his hands and placed them on Merlin’s thighs, rubbing softly up and down, looking up at him from under his eyelashes.

“Arthur,” Merlin breathed his name like a prayer.

“Is this alright?”

Merlin nodded vigorously, eyes wide. “Have you... have you ever-”

“No,” Arthur admitted, getting more and more nervous. “I’d never kissed a man before either.”

Merlin licked his lips. “Yeah? Me neither.”

Arthur huffed out a small laugh, the genuine admission somehow untying a knot that had former in his stomach. He rubbed his cheek against Merlin’s knee, turning his head to kiss it softly.

Merlin’s fingers came up to card through his hair. “Hey,” he said, and Arthur lifted his head to look at him. “You don’t have to do this. I don’t-”

“I want to,” he said in a rush. “I really, really want to.”

And when had that become a fact?

Merlin started to tremble and Arthur suspected it was from anticipation. He hoped it was.

“Alright,” said Merlin, thumb brushing at Arthur’s temple. “Alright, anything you want.”

Arthur nodded, to himself or Merlin, he wasn’t sure. He took a deep breath, hands sliding up Merlin’s thighs, lean but strong, until one came to rest on his hip and the other wrapped tentatively around the base of his cock, the feeling familiar and foreign at the same time. Merlin hissed through his teeth, the hand in Arthur’s hair tightening a fraction. He seemed to notice what he was doing and released his grip, about to pull away but Arthur’s hand stopped him, wrapping around his wrist and holding it in place.

“Keep it there,” he insisted. “It’s... nice.”

Merlin closed his eyes like he was in pain. “ Shit.”

And wow, that was the first time Arthur had heard Merlin swear.

It was incredibly hot.

When he was sure that Merlin wouldn’t move his hand away, he returned his own back to Merlin’s hip and took a deep breath. He realized he was only inches away from Merlin’s cock and found himself appreciating the view.

Arthur had never looked at any other man, never thought of any other man in an intimate context. Never desired any.

Until he’d met Merlin.

His cock was just like the rest of him. Long and beautiful, thicker than Arthur would have guessed but not overly so that it would scare him. The head was flushed dark red, pulsing, precome beading at the top. All in all, Arthur thought it was bloody gorgeous..

He wanted to put his mouth on it.

And so he did.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the base of Merlin’s cock, just above where his fingers were encircling it, giving it a little kiss, and sliding up until he reached the tip and swept his tongue over the glistening liquid there.

A moan echoed through the room and he didn’t know if it was his or Merlin’s. Most likely both.

Having had gained more confidence by now, he placed his parted lips over the head and sucked.

This time, the moan definitely came from Merlin, vibrating through his body and into Arthur’s.

Arthur retreated for a second before licking across the head again, circling it with his tongue and sliding his mouth down, down, taking Merlin in as far as he could. He stopped when he felt his gag reflex kick in, sliding back up. He repeated the action a few more times, flicking of the tongue, the circling motion, then engulfing Merlin in his wet heat, swallowing him down, then pulling up, flick, circle, swallow, up, repeat...

Merlin was positively falling apart above Arthur, the hand in his hair pulling and releasing in regular intervals, breath becoming labored and thighs trembling with the effort to stay still.

Arthur loved the way it made him feel proud and powerful at the same time.

He was able to take more and more of Merlin in with each repetition so when his lips met his fingers that were still wrapped around the base, he decided to quit the teasing and go to town.

He began bobbing up and down, nearly choking himself on Merlin’s cock, running his tongue along the underside and occasionally flicking it over the tip, just to rile Merlin up.

Arthur had been checking on Merlin here and there, just to see his blissed out face, so he knew that when he started sucking him, Merlin’s eyes had been closed, his head thrown back, lost in pleasure.

Right now, when he lifted his gaze up, sucking on the head in the meantime, their eyes met, Merlin staring down at him like Arthur was a holy vision. His sharp cheekbones were flushed, sweat beading on his temples.

Arthur was afraid he would come untouched again, just from having his mouth on Merlin and from watching him come apart. It was just then that he noticed he’d grown hard again during the act.

Feels like being sixteen again, he thought with humor.

“Arthur,” Merlin gasped with a warning. “Arthur, you have to... to...”

Arthur was quick to react and he removed his mouth from Merlin, slightly squeezing around the base to help him get some control back.

While Merlin was trying to compose himself, Arthur relaxed between his legs, his right cheek coming to rest on Merlin’s left thigh and nose pressed into the crease of his hip. He breathed in deliberately, Merlin’s scent attacking his senses. A combination of the herbs from the bathwater and something darker and earthy that was purely Merlin.

He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until Merlin pulled gently on his hair to get his attention. Arthur looked up in daze, drunk on the feeling of being with Merlin this way, of Merlin allowing him to do this, of Merlin wanting him like this.

Merlin’s lips were red and swollen from being bitten on and the flush from his cheeks had spread to his neck and chest.

He was lovely.

“What do you want, Arthur?” he asked in a whisper, like he was asking for Arthur to tell him a secret.

That’s exactly what it felt like.

He bowed his head, getting nervous again. Merlin’s other hand grasped his chin and coaxed him to look back up. “Arthur.” He smiled. “Tell me.”

Arthur licked his lips before answering. “I want...”

“Yeah?”

“I want... what you did... before...”

He could tell that Merlin had no idea what he meant. Great.

“What you did just before... just before I...” And he made a vague gesture, unable to say anything more specific, despite having had Merlin’s cock in his mouth just a few minutes before.

Thankfully, it was enough for Merlin to get it this time. 

“Oh,” he said, surprised. “You want me to... With my fingers?”

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, mortified but making himself push through. He’d come so far already. And Merlin seemed to take everything in stride.

“Anything you want to give me,” he said, hoping Merlin would understand. Judging by the way his jaw practically hit the floor, he most likely did.

“Alright,” he replied. “Yes. Alright. Let’s... Let’s do... that.”

Arthur was delighted to see he wasn’t the only stuttering idiot in the room and he felt himself relax. Maybe a bit too much because the next thing he knew, Merlin was standing up, pulling Arthur with him and reversing their position. He pushed at Arthur’s chest until Arthur got the hint and climbed on the bed on his back, shuffling up and resting against the pillows. Merlin climbed after him, over him, hovering with his face inches from Arthur’s, hands either side of him. He lowered himself down, Arthur meeting him halfway and pressing their lips together in a slow, deep kiss.

Arthur wondered if Merlin could taste himself on him.

Pulling apart, Merlin stayed low, kissing Arthur’s neck, over the love-bites he’d left from before, humming contentedly at seeing his work.

He kissed over Arthur’s collarbones, the middle of his chest, right over the heart. He seemed to linger there a bit longer. He turned his attention to one of Arthur’s nipples, laving over it with his tongue and teeth and Arthur was pleasantly surprised at how sensitive they were. He’d never known.

He did the same to the other nipple before sliding lower, running his lips and hands over Arthur’s ribs, his arms, forearms, taking Arthur’s hand, then pulling it towards his mouth and placing a kiss on it.

Arthur prayed to anyone who would listen that he didn’t cry during sex.

Pressing their hands to the bed, fingers intertwined, Merlin kissed over Arthur’s hip bones, the top of his thigh, and looked up to meet his eyes.

“I know what you want,” he said with a smirk, his large hand wrapping around Arthur’s cock. “But I thought I’d return the favor first.” And with that, he swallowed Arthur down in one go.

Arthur was both pleasantly surprised and irrationally jealous that Merlin seemed to lack any form of gag reflex. As the head of his cock hit the back of Merlin’s throat, he decided it was 70% pleasantly surprised.

Merlin sucked cock the way he kissed - sloppy, inexperienced, and so eager . Despite having had come once already, unlike Merlin, Arthur could feel the familiar build up in his lower belly.

“Merlin,” he warned. “You have to stop. You have to stop or I-.”

Merlin’s mouth left him with a wet pop.

“Yeah?” He smirked at Arthur, so proud of himself.

Arthur could only scowl.

“Ah, don’t be such a grump, Arthur. You know I’m loving it,” he teased some more and pressed a quick kiss to Arthur’s lips before getting out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Arthur called, puzzled and a bit worried.

“Just to get some oil,” he replied as he opened one of the cupboards where he stored various ointments and potions from Gaius and... conveniently, a vial of some herbal oil. He walked back to the bed, climbing up and settling himself at Arthur’s legs, hands caressing his thighs and hips.

“I’ve never done this before,” he admitted. “But I heard it’s easier if you’re on your stomach.”

Arthur wanted to ask where he’d heard that from, or whom, but decided it didn’t matter right now.

“I... I’d rather see you,” he confessed with a blush. “But... maybe you could start with me on my stomach and then when you- Before you-” He chose to gesture vaguely again. Merlin seemed to pick up on his thoughts anyway. “I could turn over.”

The smile Merlin gave him made his heart soar. He crawled up to kiss Arthur sweetly, just a press of lips, and caressed his cheek with his thumb.

“Sounds perfect.”

Arthur felt his face go aflame, so he took the opportunity and rolled over onto his belly, hands folded and one cheek resting on them. He exhaled, forcing himself to relax, wound tight with anticipation.

Merlin could sense this and he took his time easing him into it, running his hands up down, over his ankles and calves, his thighs, his butt-cheeks and then back down from where he’d started. The third time around, he stayed with his hands splayed over Arthur’s bum, massaging and kneading, and before he knew it, Arthur all but melted into the mattress.

No one had ever made him feel so taken care of.

And then, Merlin’s slicked fingers dipped in between his cheeks and rubbed at his hole, barely touching. Arthur must have spaced out because he didn’t notice Merlin removing his hands to open the vial and slicking up his fingers. Naturally, he tensed at the touch.

“Shh,” Merlin soothed, fingers resting against his entrance, and he leaned over to place a kiss to Arthur’s shoulder. “I’m never going to hurt you.”

“I know,” Arthur croaked, choked on emotion.

Merlin’s fingers retreated and he spoke up. “Can you get on your hands and knees?”

Arthur did, too overwhelmed to wonder why. Merlin’s hands were back on his ass, massaging, but this time he felt the prickly sensation of Merlin’s barely-there stubble accompanying them. Then his lips were gliding over his cheeks, his tailbone, the crease where his bum met the thigh, and then... he felt Merlin’s hot breath against his hole.

“Merlin?” he called, questioning, twisting slightly so he could look at Merlin over his shoulder. That was a mistake. Seeing Merlin’s blown wide pupils while he was  crouched with his face inches from Arthur’s ass almost had him done for.

Merlin gave him a small, deliberate smirk. “You said anything I want, right?”

And before Arthur could get a word in edgewise, he felt Merlin’s tongue swipe over his hole.

“Merlin!” he screamed, appalled and shaken and... so unbelievably turned on.

Merlin lifted his head, met his eyes again. “Arthur,” he said gently. “If you don’t want this, I will stop.” He accompanied the statement with a caress to his flank. “But... I’d really like to do this to you.” He paused. “Do you want me to?”

Arthur inhaled sharply and made himself push the mortification and shame away, replacing it with the fresh memory of Merlin’s lips and tongue on....there.  And how he’d never felt anything like it.

“I do,” he said, nearly sobbing. “I want you to.”

“ Fuck.”

Hearing Merlin swear was quickly becoming one of his favorite things in the world.

He didn’t even have a chance to brace himself before Merlin dove right in. Having Merlin’s mouth on his ass, alternating between small, kitten licks and broad swipes of his tongue, occasionally pressing inside, was the filthiest and most mind-blowing thing he’d ever experienced. At some point, he found himself pushing back against Merlin, trying to get him deeper, to get him closer.

By the time his arms started shaking from the assault on his senses, Merlin had retreated and replaced his mouth with his fingers. This time, when he pressed them to Arthur’s entrance, Arthur didn’t tense up, didn’t even blink. Instead, he pushed back, giving Merlin a go-ahead. Merlin obliged and started working one finger inside him. Due to the work Merlin had done on him with his wicked tongue, it went in smoothly, so smoothly it left Arthur gasping with surprise, desire burning stronger inside him and spreading everywhere.

Merlin was decidedly gentle with him, adding a second finger only when he was absolutely sure Arthur could take it. And he did take it. He could feel the stretch more acutely now but it only left him craving more. He started rocking back and forth on Merlin’s fingers, loving the feel of them. Merlin’s fingers were slim and so, so long.

When the fingers made a twisting motion and crooked inside him just a bit, they hit a spot which made Arthur cry out in pleasure and his arms gave out under him. It was so sudden he plunged face first into the pillow, ass still in the air.

“Wow,” Merlin wondered, sharing the sentiment.

“What the hell, Merlin?!” Arthur demanded, aware of how ridiculous he must have looked like that.

“Felt good, did it?” he laughed and did it again.

Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin. “Merlin!”

“Sorry, sorry.” 

He didn’t sound sorry at all. Instead, he added a third finger, scissoring them and stretching Arthur even further. He kept doing that for a moment, making sure Arthur was ready.

Arthur didn’t think he meant to, but at some point Merlin’s fingers brushed against that spot again and Arthur couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, that’s enough! I’m ready.”

Merlin pulled his fingers out carefully, leaving Arthur ache with emptiness, and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Alright. Turn over?” he prompted and Arthur turned over to face him, loose-limbed and ready to burst. Looking at Merlin, he realized he wasn’t the only one trying to hold it together.

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

Merlin settled in between his legs and Arthur spread them wider, pulled his knees up with the heels close to his body. Merlin closed his eyes and moaned.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Arthur.”

Arthur thought he might have an idea. “Then show me,” he challenged and who was Merlin to back down?

He grabbed the discarded vial of oil, pouring some over his hand and slicking up his cock. He brushed some more oil over Arthur’s entrance, just in case, and shuffled forward until his knees came almost to touch with Arthur’s ass.

“Arthur,” he said, sounding choked up. “Arthur, I...”

Oh, hell no. Arthur couldn’t deal with this right now. He was barely keeping it together as it was.

“Merlin,” he said warningly. “Shut. Up.” He wrapped his calves around the back of Merlin’s thighs and pulled. “And fuck me already.”

Merlin nodded vigorously, stunned and speechless, and positioned his cock at Arthur’s hole, hesitating for a second, and then pressing forward, sliding in slowly but smoothly.

Arthur’s mouth fell open and he wanted to say something teasing, but his heart wasn’t in it. Everything came down to the realization that Merlin was inside him, filling him up and making him whole.

A tear slid down his cheek against his will.

“Oh, Arthur.” Of-bloody-course Merlin would notice, hand coming up to cradle Arthur’s cheek and wiping it away.

“Merlin,” Arthur said sternly but without heat. “What did I say?”

Merlin chuckled, shaking his head at Arthur’s antics. “Right, right. Whatever you say, sire.” 

Aaaand, there it was. The cheek.

Arthur was torn between wanting to scowl, and kiss Merlin senseless. In the end, he didn’t do any of those as his breath left him in a whoosh with the first snap of Merlin’s hips. Not really forceful but strong enough to shake Arthur to his bones.

Arthur’s legs went up to wrap around Merlin, seemingly of their own accord, and Merlin obliged by bringing his chest flush with Arthur’s, forearms resting on either side of his head. He rolled his hips into Arthur, slow and steady and deep, and bent down to kiss Arthur’s moans away.

Arthur clung to him for all he was worth, arms holding him close. It barely allowed Merlin any movement, hips grinding more than thrusting, just rolling in and up, in and up, and Arthur couldn’t care less because this was perfect.

Judging by the whimpers coming from Merlin, he felt the same way.

Occasionally, Merlin’s cock would brush against that sinful spot inside Arthur, making him see stars and making his legs tremble where they were wrapped around Merlin. Although he could feel Merlin shake in his arms from the effort of holding himself up, he still wished they could stay like this forever. 

However, it didn’t take long before the pleasure built up and he came with a silent cry for the second time that night, kissing Merlin in the meanwhile so he wouldn’t notice another tear sliding from Arthur’s eyes.

Arthur’s clenching heat must have set Merlin off and he followed seconds after Arthur, burying his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck and spilling himself inside him, and bloody hell , Arthur could feel it.

They stayed wrapped in each others’ arms for a while, calming down their breathing. Merlin was the first one to come back to the land of the living and smiled at Arthur with a stupid, toothy, beautiful grin, then let Arthur kiss it away.

“I’m disgusting,” Arthur complained, becoming aware of the mess on his stomach and... yep, his ass, feeling some of Merlin’s come leaking out. To his humiliation, it made his cock twitch mockingly.

“I think you are lovely,” Merlin disagreed, all giggles and happiness.

Arthur rolled his eyes in an attempt to brush away the feeling that had been welling up.

“I need a clean up,” he reasoned and moved to get up and out of the bed, but Merlin stopped him, and he watched as Merlin’s eyes flashed the now familiar gold. He wanted to ask what he’d just done that for when he noticed the absence of any... uh, substances on his body. Merlin smiled, all proud.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. 

“Alright, I’ll give you that. That was pretty handy.”

“Just like your bathwater, you mean?” Merlin teased and Arthur’s heart swelled with affection.

“You better watch your tongue, Merlin.” he threatened. “Nobody likes a clever clogs.”

Merlin’s smirk was positively evil. 

“I think you’re quite fond of my tongue, sire.”

Arthur wanted to die.

Instead, he did the next logical thing. He grabbed a pillow and smacked Merlin in the face.

“Get out!”

“What? No!” he protested, grabbing a pillow of his own and blocking Arthur’s attacks.

“Get. Out!”

“Come on, Arthur,” he laughed, managing to get Arthur with one good hit. “You know you love me.”

They both froze the moment the words left Merlin’s mouth.

Merlin realized his mistake and rushed to fix it. “Arthur, I... I didn’t mean-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“You are right,” he confessed, sounding defeated. “I do. Um... love you, that is.”

If a person could die from happiness, Merlin was sure Gaius would be preparing his funeral very soon.

He lunged himself at Arthur, getting the pillows out of the way and kissing the life out of him, until Arthur had to push him away because he was literally suffocating.

“Merlin, what-”

“Me too,” he all but screamed into Arthur’s ear, not knowing if he wanted to laugh or cry, or cry from laughter, or all in one. “I love you, too.”

Arthur swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Of course you do. I’m amazing.”

Merlin stared in disbelief and then went for one of the pillows again, smacking Arthur into his stupid, beautiful face.

“You are such a prat!”

And then, the pillow fight began, leaving them both breathless and sweaty and so damn happy. 

They eventually settled down to sleep, still naked and wrapped around each other, legs tangled together.

“Merlin?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll tell me about everything, right? Everything I’ve missed?”

“Of course, Arthur.” And he pressed a kiss to his hair. “From the very beginning.”

“Good.”

They went quiet for a while, before Arthur spoke up again. 

“Merlin?”

“Yeah?”

A pause. 

“I love you.”

Merlin smiled for the millionth time that night.

“I love you too, Arthur. Always have.”

Arthur held on a little tighter.

“Merlin?”

“Yeah?”

“You still need to do my laundry.”

Merlin sighed in mock resignation. 

“Yes, sire.”