Kisses and Picnic Baskets
Author: ur_lionheart
Title: Kisses and Picnic Baskets
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur.
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur.
Summary: “Feed me,” Arthur says. Merlin blinks at him.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 979
Prompt: #82: Storm.
Author's Notes: This is not how I was expecting this to turn out, but it turned out alright anyway. When I signed up for the prompt, I had something completely different in mind, but I wrote this one. This is set after Arthur completely heals from the events of 1x13.
“I’m hungry,” Arthur says for the third time in as many minutes. His tone has been steadily getting whinier.
Merlin glares down to where Arthur’s lying on his back. “There’s food right beside you,” he says, pointing at the basket of sweet fruit and bread for emphasis. He leans his head back against the tree again.
“I know,” Arthur says. Merlin grits his teeth.
“Then eat.”
“Feed me,” Arthur says, like a child that is being denied of his favorite toy.
Merlin turns his head and blinks at him. “What?”
“I said,” Arthur starts; he turns his head to look at Merlin. “Feed me.”
“No!” Merlin nearly yelps.
“You’re my manservant,” Arthur says, demanding.
“Not today. We’re having a picnic.”
“No, Merlin. I’m having a picnic. You’re here to serve me.”
Merlin grumbles and complains and Arthur smacks him on the back of his head. Merlin complains some more.
He reaches around Arthur to grab a few grapes from the basket. Arthur grins at him and opens his mouth wide. When Merlin feeds the first grape to Arthur, he sucks down on Merlin’s fingers. Merlin has to forcefully pull his fingers out of Arthur’s mouth. Arthur’s smirking at him, and Merlin does his best to hide his blush. There’s a rush of arousal going through his body.
Merlin drops the second grape in Arthur’s open mouth, carefully to keep his fingers well out of reach; and Arthur chokes, grabbing his throat as he sits up. He’s coughing, trying to bring the grape up and spit it out. Merlin turns, sits on his knees. His magic is thrumming wildly under his skin, just waiting to be used. But Arthur seems to have a control of the situation, and Merlin shoves the magic back away from his fingertips.
When he finally spits the grape out half a minute later, Arthur looks at Merlin and glares. Merlin grins at him, cheeky, and Arthur just glares harder.
“Did I do something wrong, my Lord?” Merlin asks, trying to sound innocent.
And Arthur-he-he leaps at him from where he’s crouching down. Arthur pushes him back and in half a second, Merlin is lying on his back. He has Merlin's wrists pinned above his head, and he’s looming over him.
Merlin doesn't know when he dropped the grapes. He’s looking up at Arthur, wide eyed and flushed all over. He tries to squirm out of Arthur’s grasp but he just holds on tighter. He can't move, no matter how much he struggles.
“Yes, Merlin,” Arthur says deviously, a hint of-something-in his eyes. “Let me show you how to do it properly.”
Merlin’s stunned into stillness by how close Arthur is-his blue, blue eyes, and that sinuous mouth, and the golden fringes framing his face-and only realizes that Arthur has moved when there’s something pressing against his parted lips. He numbly parts his lips further and it slips into his mouth.
It’s a grape; he realizes when he tastes it. He slowly chews and swallows, never once taking his eyes off Arthur.
Arthur’s close now, even closer than he was before. Merlin can feel his breath on his lips. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. His heart is thrumming so wildly he can hear the pulse in his ears. He’s almost sure Arthur hears it too. Time stretches on-taffy-like, and then-then Arthur’s lips are on his, and time starts again. It’s just a soft peck. It’s over in a second, but Merlin’s heart skips a beat and he lets out a shaky breath.
Arthur lingers for another second-searching-before he lets Merlin’s wrists go, and pulls back. Sits back and looks at Merlin for a second before standing up. Merlin lays there-just the way Arthur left him-and stares above. The sky has clouded over, turning everything a dull shade of grey.
It shouldn't, he thinks. Merlin’s world is flooded with light and color and there’s a bright, fresh quality to every thought he has. Merlin’s world is brighter than it has ever been. The sky should be bright and sunny, too.
“Come on,” Arthur says from where he’s standing up. He has turned his back to Merlin. There’s a frown in his voice. He doesn't look at Merlin. “We should go back. There’s a storm coming.”
Merlin doesn't know what to say. He frowns at Arthur for a second, then moves. He gathers everything up and heads over to his horse. Arthur is still not looking at him. He’s petting his horse.
“Let’s go?” Merlin asks tentatively. Arthur grunts, and mounts on his horse. Merlin struggles, but eventually mounts and then they’re off.
Arthur is acting as if nothing happened. And Merlin lets him for now. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to put everything he feels for Arthur in words and have Arthur listen to him. So for now, he lets Arthur pretend. And he pretends, too, just a bit.
Tonight, he decides. Tonight, when he’s giving Arthur a massage in the bath, he’ll press soft kisses to Arthur’s shoulders, and neck, and cheeks. And if Arthur lets him, he’ll kiss him on the mouth, too. He doesn't have to say anything to make Arthur see it. He can show what he feels with actions. He’ll make Arthur’s bed and help him undress and he’ll set the fire in the hearth and crawl into the big, soft bed. He’ll kiss Arthur until both of them are breathless with it and-and they won’t have to talk about it. Not yet anyway. They’ll talk about it when they have to.
As they ride through the clearing beyond the castle-Merlin following Arthur, like always; and the first drops of rain start coming down, Merlin can’t help but smile in anticipation of what lies ahead for both of them.
-fin-
Title: Kisses and Picnic Baskets
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur.
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur.
Summary: “Feed me,” Arthur says. Merlin blinks at him.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 979
Prompt: #82: Storm.
Author's Notes: This is not how I was expecting this to turn out, but it turned out alright anyway. When I signed up for the prompt, I had something completely different in mind, but I wrote this one. This is set after Arthur completely heals from the events of 1x13.
“I’m hungry,” Arthur says for the third time in as many minutes. His tone has been steadily getting whinier.
Merlin glares down to where Arthur’s lying on his back. “There’s food right beside you,” he says, pointing at the basket of sweet fruit and bread for emphasis. He leans his head back against the tree again.
“I know,” Arthur says. Merlin grits his teeth.
“Then eat.”
“Feed me,” Arthur says, like a child that is being denied of his favorite toy.
Merlin turns his head and blinks at him. “What?”
“I said,” Arthur starts; he turns his head to look at Merlin. “Feed me.”
“No!” Merlin nearly yelps.
“You’re my manservant,” Arthur says, demanding.
“Not today. We’re having a picnic.”
“No, Merlin. I’m having a picnic. You’re here to serve me.”
Merlin grumbles and complains and Arthur smacks him on the back of his head. Merlin complains some more.
He reaches around Arthur to grab a few grapes from the basket. Arthur grins at him and opens his mouth wide. When Merlin feeds the first grape to Arthur, he sucks down on Merlin’s fingers. Merlin has to forcefully pull his fingers out of Arthur’s mouth. Arthur’s smirking at him, and Merlin does his best to hide his blush. There’s a rush of arousal going through his body.
Merlin drops the second grape in Arthur’s open mouth, carefully to keep his fingers well out of reach; and Arthur chokes, grabbing his throat as he sits up. He’s coughing, trying to bring the grape up and spit it out. Merlin turns, sits on his knees. His magic is thrumming wildly under his skin, just waiting to be used. But Arthur seems to have a control of the situation, and Merlin shoves the magic back away from his fingertips.
When he finally spits the grape out half a minute later, Arthur looks at Merlin and glares. Merlin grins at him, cheeky, and Arthur just glares harder.
“Did I do something wrong, my Lord?” Merlin asks, trying to sound innocent.
And Arthur-he-he leaps at him from where he’s crouching down. Arthur pushes him back and in half a second, Merlin is lying on his back. He has Merlin's wrists pinned above his head, and he’s looming over him.
Merlin doesn't know when he dropped the grapes. He’s looking up at Arthur, wide eyed and flushed all over. He tries to squirm out of Arthur’s grasp but he just holds on tighter. He can't move, no matter how much he struggles.
“Yes, Merlin,” Arthur says deviously, a hint of-something-in his eyes. “Let me show you how to do it properly.”
Merlin’s stunned into stillness by how close Arthur is-his blue, blue eyes, and that sinuous mouth, and the golden fringes framing his face-and only realizes that Arthur has moved when there’s something pressing against his parted lips. He numbly parts his lips further and it slips into his mouth.
It’s a grape; he realizes when he tastes it. He slowly chews and swallows, never once taking his eyes off Arthur.
Arthur’s close now, even closer than he was before. Merlin can feel his breath on his lips. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. His heart is thrumming so wildly he can hear the pulse in his ears. He’s almost sure Arthur hears it too. Time stretches on-taffy-like, and then-then Arthur’s lips are on his, and time starts again. It’s just a soft peck. It’s over in a second, but Merlin’s heart skips a beat and he lets out a shaky breath.
Arthur lingers for another second-searching-before he lets Merlin’s wrists go, and pulls back. Sits back and looks at Merlin for a second before standing up. Merlin lays there-just the way Arthur left him-and stares above. The sky has clouded over, turning everything a dull shade of grey.
It shouldn't, he thinks. Merlin’s world is flooded with light and color and there’s a bright, fresh quality to every thought he has. Merlin’s world is brighter than it has ever been. The sky should be bright and sunny, too.
“Come on,” Arthur says from where he’s standing up. He has turned his back to Merlin. There’s a frown in his voice. He doesn't look at Merlin. “We should go back. There’s a storm coming.”
Merlin doesn't know what to say. He frowns at Arthur for a second, then moves. He gathers everything up and heads over to his horse. Arthur is still not looking at him. He’s petting his horse.
“Let’s go?” Merlin asks tentatively. Arthur grunts, and mounts on his horse. Merlin struggles, but eventually mounts and then they’re off.
Arthur is acting as if nothing happened. And Merlin lets him for now. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to put everything he feels for Arthur in words and have Arthur listen to him. So for now, he lets Arthur pretend. And he pretends, too, just a bit.
Tonight, he decides. Tonight, when he’s giving Arthur a massage in the bath, he’ll press soft kisses to Arthur’s shoulders, and neck, and cheeks. And if Arthur lets him, he’ll kiss him on the mouth, too. He doesn't have to say anything to make Arthur see it. He can show what he feels with actions. He’ll make Arthur’s bed and help him undress and he’ll set the fire in the hearth and crawl into the big, soft bed. He’ll kiss Arthur until both of them are breathless with it and-and they won’t have to talk about it. Not yet anyway. They’ll talk about it when they have to.
As they ride through the clearing beyond the castle-Merlin following Arthur, like always; and the first drops of rain start coming down, Merlin can’t help but smile in anticipation of what lies ahead for both of them.
-fin-