(i come to you in pieces so you can make me whole)
Title: (i come to you in pieces so you can make me whole)
Pairing(s): established relationship Merlin/Arthur
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: might be a tad bit confusing is all XD
Summary: Merlin doesn't know when he started needing Arthur so much, but he knows he realized it on a Tuesday.
Disclaimer: Do not own Merlin.
A/N: Written for merlinxarthur's comment fic meme. Prompt was: Can we get a snippet of non-physical love up in here? Devotion that goes beyond wang-in-butt action... something meaningful and moving on an emotional level? The title is inspired by Pieces by Red, but I was listening to Here With Me by Dido the entire time I was writing this. Sort of weird o_O
Merlin doesn’t know when he started needing Arthur so much, but he knows he realized it on a Tuesday.
(but before we get to that, you need to know the background of their usual weekday mornings: merlin always feels arthur next to him every time he wakes up, even before he opens his eyes; he recognizes the slight weight next to him, even amongst all the crap they leave on the bed; recognizes the breathing, soft and gentle albeit horrid-smelling that early in the morning, and it’s the only sound merlin listens to as he blocks out the noise of an early-bird city bustling outside their flat; always recognizes the quiet murmurings in between each set of soft breaths that usually amounts to dreamful babble; smiles when he recognizes his own name amidst all the gibberish; recognizes the slight shift of feet and their calculated hesitation, since arthur has a habit of kicking in his sleep but still wants to sleep at merlin’s side so he promised to train himself not to kick in his sleep; recognizes the body heat radiating off him, so teasingly close to his own body but not too close that he might accidentally kick him).
Before he woke up that Tuesday morning (he doesn’t remember which tuesday it was, but it was one of no particular interest), there was an unsettling vacant feeling in his chest. The room felt too cold, too full of space and not enough matter to fill it up. He shifted in his sleep, attempting to toss and turn until the feeling went away, but the vacancy continued. Instinctively, his arms shot out to grab something-anything, really-but he found only the cool air-conditioned air of the flat. It was at that point that the vacancy increased tenfold, and his thoughts started kicking into gear. His first thought was oh my god someone broke in and stole all our things but he immediately dismissed that idea, partly because it was ludicrous and partly because he was too lazy to get up and call anyone. His next thought was arthur must have hogged all the sheets but ended up nixing that idea as well because, as much of a prat as he was, Arthur never hogged sheets.
Finally, he turned back onto his side and opened his eyes. The unexpected brightness of the sun caught him off guard, and he squinted in the sunlight before restarting his effort to open his eyes completely. A rather dashing view of the city replaced the more preferable view of Arthur sleeping, which explained why the sun startled him so much but still didn’t explain the odd feeling in his gut that was growing at an alarming rate. He grunted, frustrated, and forced himself to sit up. Their flat was eerily quiet, even with the honking of cars in the distance and the sound of birds twittering in the background, and the strange feeling did a little twist in the pit of his stomach. His frown deepened, his mood dampened considerably, and he collapsed back onto the bed in defeat. He wasn’t going to get up. Nope. He knew the signs of a shit day, and according to this unfamiliar new sign that was making its entrance at six-bloody-thirty in the morning, that Tuesday was going to be a horribly shit day.
Merlin doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have, because one second that niggling feeling was doing a tap-dance in his gut and the next Arthur was curled up against him, chest pressed against his back as he murmured a quick good morning in his ear. And (it’s weird, he knows it’s weird, but ever since meeting arthur basically everything about his life has been this level of weird) it’s at that point that everything in the world clicked into place and the niggling feeling became so completely appeased that it even morphed to make Merlin feel whole and oh.
At that point, Merlin knew. (but arthur knew long before that).
--
...erm, even I'm baffled as to why I'm posting this here in my journal. Oh well. What's done is done. Let's just say I like having all my fics in one place :3 Also...*headdesk* WHAT IS IT WITH ME AND SLEEPING?
Pairing(s): established relationship Merlin/Arthur
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: might be a tad bit confusing is all XD
Summary: Merlin doesn't know when he started needing Arthur so much, but he knows he realized it on a Tuesday.
Disclaimer: Do not own Merlin.
A/N: Written for merlinxarthur's comment fic meme. Prompt was: Can we get a snippet of non-physical love up in here? Devotion that goes beyond wang-in-butt action... something meaningful and moving on an emotional level? The title is inspired by Pieces by Red, but I was listening to Here With Me by Dido the entire time I was writing this. Sort of weird o_O
Merlin doesn’t know when he started needing Arthur so much, but he knows he realized it on a Tuesday.
(but before we get to that, you need to know the background of their usual weekday mornings: merlin always feels arthur next to him every time he wakes up, even before he opens his eyes; he recognizes the slight weight next to him, even amongst all the crap they leave on the bed; recognizes the breathing, soft and gentle albeit horrid-smelling that early in the morning, and it’s the only sound merlin listens to as he blocks out the noise of an early-bird city bustling outside their flat; always recognizes the quiet murmurings in between each set of soft breaths that usually amounts to dreamful babble; smiles when he recognizes his own name amidst all the gibberish; recognizes the slight shift of feet and their calculated hesitation, since arthur has a habit of kicking in his sleep but still wants to sleep at merlin’s side so he promised to train himself not to kick in his sleep; recognizes the body heat radiating off him, so teasingly close to his own body but not too close that he might accidentally kick him).
Before he woke up that Tuesday morning (he doesn’t remember which tuesday it was, but it was one of no particular interest), there was an unsettling vacant feeling in his chest. The room felt too cold, too full of space and not enough matter to fill it up. He shifted in his sleep, attempting to toss and turn until the feeling went away, but the vacancy continued. Instinctively, his arms shot out to grab something-anything, really-but he found only the cool air-conditioned air of the flat. It was at that point that the vacancy increased tenfold, and his thoughts started kicking into gear. His first thought was oh my god someone broke in and stole all our things but he immediately dismissed that idea, partly because it was ludicrous and partly because he was too lazy to get up and call anyone. His next thought was arthur must have hogged all the sheets but ended up nixing that idea as well because, as much of a prat as he was, Arthur never hogged sheets.
Finally, he turned back onto his side and opened his eyes. The unexpected brightness of the sun caught him off guard, and he squinted in the sunlight before restarting his effort to open his eyes completely. A rather dashing view of the city replaced the more preferable view of Arthur sleeping, which explained why the sun startled him so much but still didn’t explain the odd feeling in his gut that was growing at an alarming rate. He grunted, frustrated, and forced himself to sit up. Their flat was eerily quiet, even with the honking of cars in the distance and the sound of birds twittering in the background, and the strange feeling did a little twist in the pit of his stomach. His frown deepened, his mood dampened considerably, and he collapsed back onto the bed in defeat. He wasn’t going to get up. Nope. He knew the signs of a shit day, and according to this unfamiliar new sign that was making its entrance at six-bloody-thirty in the morning, that Tuesday was going to be a horribly shit day.
Merlin doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have, because one second that niggling feeling was doing a tap-dance in his gut and the next Arthur was curled up against him, chest pressed against his back as he murmured a quick good morning in his ear. And (it’s weird, he knows it’s weird, but ever since meeting arthur basically everything about his life has been this level of weird) it’s at that point that everything in the world clicked into place and the niggling feeling became so completely appeased that it even morphed to make Merlin feel whole and oh.
At that point, Merlin knew. (but arthur knew long before that).
--
...erm, even I'm baffled as to why I'm posting this here in my journal. Oh well. What's done is done. Let's just say I like having all my fics in one place :3 Also...*headdesk* WHAT IS IT WITH ME AND SLEEPING?