Heat
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: Heat
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/s: Arthur/Merlin
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin
Summary: Arthur finally figures out what he wants. About time!
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1640 (sorry!)
Prompt: #230: Heat of the Moment
Author's Notes: From Season 2, after "Sweet Dreams'
Last part of Recipe for Disaster
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; It and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
-----------------------------------
It would never be said that once Arthur figured something out, that he wouldn't act upon it. It might take a while. Planning for something as important as returning true love's kiss - and maybe something more - required stealth and determination and a bit of luck. And not getting found out by his father who would not take kindly to Arthur's choice of companion. Besides, Arthur was trained in the art of warfare and tactics and wasn't love a bit of that after all?
Besides, Merlin seemed subdued, his manner thoughtful for weeks after Vivian and her father left. It was almost as if he were thinking - which is ridiculous because Merlin didn't think, he just let whatever was in his head come tumbling out of that mouth of his. But it could be that he was regretting the kiss in the tent.
Arthur hoped not. But he also didn't want to make himself look a fool so he watched and waited and planned, just in case.
Then Merlin blind-sided him.
Bathing, Merlin scrubbing his back as usual, Arthur wasn't paying as much attention as he should have. The quiet sound of a fire crackling nearby, the splash of water as he leaned into Merlin's touch, a distant bell tolling the late hour, was relaxing, almost hypnotic. When Merlin moved away, intent on something or other out of his line of sight, Arthur ignored him, sunk deeper into the warm water, tilting his head back, and closing his eyes.
For a moment, everything seemed still, as if the world were holding its breath, and then someone - who else but Merlin - brushed a kiss against his hair.
Arthur lay there, not moving, pretending not to realize what Merlin had just done, waiting to see what else he might do. There was a second kiss, more a breath of air against his skin and then Arthur felt Merlin start to move away.
Sitting up, grabbing onto Merlin's sleeve, Arthur stared up at him. The man was blushing, ears red as the fire behind him, but he didn't say anything, just knelt there, biting at his lip.
That mouth. He'd wanted to plunder it for weeks, and now, there it was, wet and red and inviting.
Not caring how much water he was spilling onto the floor, he grabbed Merlin's shirt and pulled him closer. For a breathless moment, they just watched each other. Then Merlin licked his lip, perhaps to soothe, perhaps to invite, but it was enough.
Arthur acted without thought. One hand curled around Merlin's neck, Arthur dove into that luscious mouth of his, groans and want pouring into the wet between them. He ignored the inevitable muffled protest, as purpose-hungry, he hauled Merlin into the tub.
There was water everywhere, Merlin squirming in his arms, soaked to the skin. There were insults mixed in with the kisses, muffled against his mouth, and a struggle to escape. But Arthur held on tight, his strength overwhelming Merlin's. And with another long, wet kiss, Merlin sunk into him.
For the longest time, they huddled there, the tub uncomfortably tight, the water cooling, but it didn't matter. Arthur felt like he was flying, soaring on kisses and skin and pressure. And Merlin was giving back as good as he got, rolling his hips against Arthur's own, his hands everywhere.
In the back of his mind, he was already planning of stripping Merlin bare, licking and touching and making him groan. But there was a tub and clothes in the way and a bed would be so much better.
When he finally took a moment to breathe, he pushed Merlin back. "Stop, stop."
That red-swollen mouth of Merlin's was already babbling regret as he scrambled out of the tub. "I'm sorry, Arthur, I'm… but you… I'm… it won't happen again."
In the firelight, Merlin looked a drowned rat more than a lover but Arthur had never wanted anyone so much in his life.
Shaking his head, Arthur grabbed onto Merlin's wrist before the idiot could flee. "Merlin, what am I always telling you?"
"That I'm an idiot." It is often said that the eyes were windows to the soul and Merlin's eyes were as devastated as Arthur had ever seen. First red, then pale as moonlight, Merlin looked as though he were about to cry. "That I'm the worst servant in the five kingdoms, that anyone would be better at it than me, that I'm always doing it wrong, that…"
"Merlin." Arthur had to stop him before this turned into shouts and tears and something unrepairable between them. "Merlin, you are all that." Merlin was already turning away, his hand going up to his mouth as if trying not to cry. "But you are also wise and steadfast and true. And if you promise not to mention a word of this, I'll tell you a secret…. that I know about true love's kiss."
Looking even more distraught, Merlin just shook his head. "It's just a fairy tale."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Arthur stood up, climbing out of the tub, and grabbing a towel, began to dry off. He didn't hide his erection standing proud and heavy against his belly. "I was hoping it wasn't just a story."
Merlin's gaze kept flicking here and there, staring down at his feet, at the tub, at the fire, anywhere but Arthur's direction. Merlin's hands were busy, too, as if he didn't know what to do with them, but as Arthur watched, Merlin pressed fingers against his groin a moment before flushing again, and thrusting both hands behind him.
But a moment later as Arthur called his name, he finally, finally glanced Arthur's way. As he did, his eyes grew wide and there was a touch of question in his gaze. "I… I need to change."
"You need to strip." Arthur tried to keep the mixture of amusement and lust out of his voice but it was a little hard. It didn't help that he was still a lot hard, and playing with Merlin like this while fun, was achingly frustrating, too.
"What?"
Arthur thought it was pretty plain what he wanted, but sometimes Merlin was a little slow on the uptake. "Strip, as in take off your clothes."
Merlin's gaze settled on Arthur's somewhat flagging erection, and throat working as he looked up again, said, "My clothes are wet."
"Then take them off and dry them by the fire. It's not that difficult, Merlin."
When Merlin just stood there chewing on his lip, Arthur decided that he'd had enough of waiting for him to catch up. Walking over to Merlin who stepped back a little as Arthur approached, he reached out and began to loosen Merlin's belt.
Merlin's sputters could be hilarious at times. "What are you doing? I won't have anything to wear if I take them off."
"Yes, that's the point. Try and keep up, Merlin."
Belt finally undone, Arthur let it clatter to the floor, then he reached up and pulled Merlin's tunic over his head and threw it into the pile of unwashed laundry in the corner. Merlin squawked at the treatment, rubbing his ears as he looked at Arthur with growing interest.
"Arthur, are you sure about this?"
Merlin looked so uncertain that Arthur couldn't stand it anymore. He was done with playing, done with their endless bickering, done with everything but taking Merlin to bed.
Reaching out, one palm cupping Merlin's cheek, Arthur leaned in for a brief, hard kiss. When it seemed like Merlin was going to go for more, following Arthur's mouth as he pulled back, Arthur just smiled. Then breath mingling, a hairsbreadth between them, he took Merlin's hand and pressed it to Arthur's cock.
Pleasure, warm and exciting, was hardening him once again. "Do I feel as if I'm unsure?"
There was laughter and joy in Merlin's voice as he cupped Arthur a bit. "No, you feel… wonderful." Then Merlin leaned forward, whispered into Arthur's ear, "But I won't be a single night's pleasure, even for you."
Arthur wanted to laugh for joy but instead, he snaked his hand down Merlin's braes, fingered the hard length there, then curled his hand around it and squeezed just a little. "Merlin, I've been planning this for months. A single night wasn't what I had in mind."
Merlin's answer was a soft groan and Arthur could feel him swelling under his hand.
It must have been enough because Merlin let go of Arthur, then began to furiously tug at his laces, toeing off his boots and stripping as fast as he could. Arthur snickered a little, licking at Merlin's ear, then realized that pleasure to be had would come sooner if he helped. So he did.
Then there were kisses, deep and dark and delicious. Merlin tasted of apples and sunshine and smoke, and his hands were wondrous, pulling pleasure out of trailing fingertips and pebbled skin.
Hunger and want and as they fell into bed, rumbling the covers as they did, the kisses turned into need, skin into sparks of desire, and Arthur couldn't understand it, didn't want to. He was too busy exploring Merlin's hip, marking possession in bruises and pressure and wonder. Too busy taking Merlin in his mouth and making him swell and cry out and beg. And when his mouth was flooded with Merlin's ecstasy, under the growing spiral of his own pleasure, there was a feeling of satisfaction, too, that Merlin was his and he was Merlin's and there would never be another for him.
That true love's kiss was no fairy tale, and for once, there would be a happy ending.
They had started out in disaster, with Gwen and Lancelot and Arthur's loss. But in the end, it was as it should be.
Merlin and Arthur.
Forever and always one.