this thing between us//arthur/merlin, R
title; this thing between us
rating; R
word count; 7,773
pairings; arthur/merlin, gwaine/lanceot, gwen/morgana,
warnings; very, very slight homophobia
disclaimer; I do not own any of the characters, they're all property of their respective creators.
summary; A spell sends Arthur and Merlin into the 21st century where homosexuality smacks them right in the face in the re incarcerated forms of Lancelot, Gwaine, Morgana and Gwen. The new liberal society allows unspoken feelings to come to the surface...in weird, unspoken ways.
a/n; written for this prompt at the merlin kink meme. This was mostly an experimental piece that got out of hand. :PIt happens so quickly. Merlin sees the witch’s eyes widen dangerously, sees her lips forming the incantation but before he can stop her, they’re spiralling through darkness. Merlin can feel Arthur beside him and he reaches out, taking his arm and grasping the armour firmly. He tries to speak but no words come out and he closes his eyes, wishing for it all to stop. It does.
Merlin lays very still, hand still resting on the cool metal of Arthur’s armour; the only reassurance that he’s there beside him. Noises fade in slowly, the chatter of people talking, the thud of footsteps and then, more unfamiliar, foreign sounds. Music, only louder than any he’s heard before and aided along by an orchestra of unfamiliar instruments and a loud, wailing female voice. Merlin stirs half by his desire to block out the horrible singing. He sits up and blinks, the world before him coming into focus in a wave of nausea. They’re in what appears to be a darkened alley. The music is coming from the building opposite the road. A neon sign above it reads Knights Club. There’s a long queue of men and women outside it, all of them laughing and talking loudly.
Merlin rubs his head where it’s sore from hitting the ground so hard and tries to focus on their alien surroundings. Arthur stirs beside him suddenly remembering him, Merlin leans over him. “Arthur, are you alright?”
“What...what happened?” Arthur asks, dazed. He sits up and looks around them, “Where the hell are we?”
Merlin shakes his head. “I have no idea.” He gets to his feet and offers Arthur a hand. Arthur takes it and Merlin pulls the prince to his feet. Together, they walk to the end of the alley and step onto the road.
“Merlin, look out!” Arthur grabs him by his shoulder and pulls him back just a large...what the hell is that? whirls past them, honking loudly. It’s then that Merlin notices that the roads are full of...he doesn’t know what to call them but there are people sitting inside them and Merlin assumes that it’s some form of transport. Like horses with more than one saddle and wheels instead of feet and windows to hold it all together. Arthur doesn’t let go of Merlin’s arm, instead his fingers tighten the grip as they take in the dangerous unhorse like steeds whizzing past them.
Across the road, the wailing song ends and is followed by yet another and a girl in the queue shrieks loudly, “Oh my god Lady Gaga! I LOVE THIS SONG!”
“Gaga? What the...where are we?” Arthur looks around them, fear overshadowed by confusion. People passing them by are staring at them, some frowning, some laughing and pointing and Merlin is beginning to think that something is very, very wrong. The women here are dressed just like the men and the ones who aren’t are showing an indecent amount of skin. The men’s breeches are different, their tunics thicker and Merlin has a feeling that they’re no longer in Camelot, or Albion or their time. This is a different dimension altogether.
“Arthur...” he says slowly, “I think we might be in the future.”
“The future? Merlin what the hell are you talking about?” Arthur asks, frowning at him.
“The spell, Arthur... I think it sent us into the future. Look around you!” Merlin whispers, “This isn’t our time!” as if to emphasize his point, Lady Gaga’s voice floats across the street to them from the pub. I can’t remember but it’s alright, I’m alright Just dace
+++
“What do we do now?” Merlin asks. They’re walking down the crowded streets, turning heads and Merlin is becoming more and more uncomfortable as the seconds pass by. Arthur seems a little worried himself despite his training to remain calm and focused in any situation.
Getting thrown into the future isn’t exactly the sort of situations Prince’s are given training for. Merlin wonders if he can try a spell to send them back without revealing his magic to Arthur. He can’t think of any possible way so he resorts to hoping the spell will wear off and they’ll be back in Camelot soon enough or that he might get a chance when Arthur’s asleep. That is, if they ever find a place where they can sleep.
They haven’t got far when a man stumbles up to Arthur and pokes him in the chest, “Whatchya wearing there pretty boy?” he slurs. He smells strongly of alcohol and is very obviously drunk. His gangly friends stand a step behind him, watching the scene with amusement.
“Watch it!” Arthur warns. The man laughs and pushes Arthur, harder this time. Arthur’s hand flies to his swordbelt only to remember that his sword is lying on the forest floor back in Camelot. Useless. Arthur gulps and looks back up at the man, sizing him up. The man takes advantage of Arthur’s lack of defence to push him into the brick wall of the flower shop they’re standing in front of. “I’m warning you...I’m a prince...” but Arthur’s voice wavers.
The men and his thugs only laugh harder. “He says he’s a prince! Hear that?”
“I don’t think they care if you’re a prince Arthur...” Merlin says eyeing the way the man is now rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “They’ll crush us anyway...”
Arthur seems to share his view because he’s backing off slowly. Another man steps between them and the thugs suddenly as if appearing out of nowhere. A familiar face with dark hair and warm brown eyes... “Leave them alone Barney, they’ve done nothing wrong.” he says firmly. “Go find someone else to pick a fight with.”
The thugs leer some more at him and Arthur but turn their backs and walk away. The man turns to face them. “Lancelot!” Arthur cries in relief.
“How do you know my name?” Lancelot asks, frowning. Merlin searches his face for signs of recognition but sees none.
“You really don’t recognize us?” he asks, crestfallen.
“Am I supposed to?” Lance looks confused.
“What do you mean you’re supposed to!” Arthur exclaims, smacking Lance on the back of his head. “What’s wrong with you? It’s me! Arthur! What the hell is going on?! The last thing I remember is that witch in the Darkling Forests. She used some kind of spell and now we’re stuck in the future!”
Lance stares at them. “Um, okay?” it sounds more like a question. He leans towards Merlin, “is he drunk?” he asks.
“It’s complicated.” Merlin replies. “Look, we-we don’t really know our way around here, we’ve got no place to stay...will you help us?” he trails off.
Lancelot eyes them. “Are you going to mug me if I take you back to my flat?” he asks suspiciously.
“Mu-wha-no! You can trust us!” Merlin exclaims.
Lancelot bites his lips, “I know. I can’t explain how I know but I just know that...I can trust you.”
Merlin smiles expectantly and Lancelot sighs, “Alright then. Follow me....” he motions to them and they fall into step behind him. “Gwaine is going to kill me!” he mutters.
+++
They’re called cars. The horses with wheels and multiple saddles and windows? They’re called cars.
Lance drives them back to his house in it. It’s not very big like some others Merlin has seen on the road but it’s got comfortable seats and when Lance pushes a button, warm air wafts through the fans at the front. Arthur sits beside Lance in the seat at the front and Merlin stares out the window at the back.
Everything is so unfamiliar, so alien.
Merlin presses his forehead against the cool glass and watches his breath steam up in front of him as the world whirls by.
++++
Lance’s house is a small apartment on the second floor of a Victorian style building. It’s a comfortable looking place with plush cushions and a small bed like long chair (which Merlin later finds out is called a couch). There’s a large bookshelf dominating the right wall, stacked to the ceiling with books of all sizes-it reminds Merlin of Gaius’s quarters in Camelot. At the same time, there are so many things that Merlin doesn’t recognize though, a large square screen hanging from the ceiling being the main one (a plasma TV).
“Right.” Lance says, shutting the door behind them. “So, this is my place...”
“Lance, you back?” a voice calls out.
There’s the sound of approaching footsteps and a man walks out of one of the doors. He has short cropped, black hair that sticks up at the back of his head and is wearing nothing but blue breeches-jeans. They’re called jeans. Merlin stares at the familiar muscled chest, the untidy, albeit shorter hair and the grinning face.
Gwaine walks up to Lance, draws him in and kisses him. On the mouth. Long and hard. He doesn’t even seem to notice Merlin and Arthur standing there.
Lance looks dazed when he finally pulls away. He turns to them, “Merlin, Arthur-this is my boyfriend and flatmate, Gwaine.”
Arthur stares, Merlin can’t find words to respond. Did they just...Gwaine and Lancelot? Boyfriend? What, no. No, there was something very, very wrong.
“Well, well, well...” Gwaine grins not unlike the manner Merlin remembers. “I knew you had a thing for roleplaying Lance but where in the world did you pick up these treasures?” he saunters up to them and runs a finger along Arthur’s plate. Arthur just gapes at him. “So much attention to detail...” he turns to Merlin, eyes his ragged clothes “and what are you?”
“I-uh, I’m his manservant.” Merlin replies.
Gwaine bursts out laughing. “Oh my god...Lance, really! Where did you get them?” he’s laughing so hard he has tears in his eyes.
Lance shifts uncomfortably and gives them an apologetic look. “Sorry about him, he’s a bit...” he struggles to find the right adjective but lets it hang in the air.
“So what are we playing? Prince and manservant?” he turns to Lance. “I’m your prince and I order you to suck my cock.”
Arthur’s eyes widen, Merlin’s mouth falls open and Lance blushes.
He walks up to Gwaine who’s standing, wide eyed and grinning and slaps his arms back down to his sides. “They’re not freaking rent boys, Gwaine.”
“Really?” Gwaine asks, looking at Merlin and Arthur in turn. “Shame.” He winks at them and heads into what appears to be a tiny kitchen. He opens a white box, nearly the same height as him and pulls out a bottle which he promptly uncorks and drains. “So if you’re not here for an orgy, what are you here for and why in god’s name are you dressed in those joker costumes?”
Arthur clears his throat, finally regaining his voice. “I’m Prince Arthur of Camelot.”
“Are you now?” Gwaine raises his eyebrows and smirks, taking another swing from the bottle.
Arthur glares at him and Merlin interjects, “Look, I know this sounds completely mad but we’re not from this time. He really is a prince. And I’m really his manservant and-” he blushes at Gwaine’s ever widening smirk, “And I don’t know how to tell you this but we-we know you. Both of you. You’re knights, in our time. Back in Camelot, you’re both knights.”
Gwaine tries and fails to hold back a laugh but Lancelot is looking at them curiously. Merlin looks at him directly when he speaks again, “Please, you have to believe us. Lance, you said you knew somehow you could trust us. That’s because, in a past life-you’ve known us. We’re you’re friends. We’ve faced death together and you know me-” he glances at Arthur briefly, “You know me like no one else.”
“Wait, wait,” Gwaine says, shaking his head. “So what, we’re some kind of reincarnations of the Gwaine and Lancelot you know back in your time?”
“Yes. Basically.”
There’s silence during which even Gwaine doesn’t say anything and just stares at them in silence. Arthur seems relieved that Merlin’s done the talking is now looking hopefully from Gwaine to Lancelot, looking for the familiar features of awe and respect in his knights face. It seems like forever before anyone speaks, breaking the silence.
“Call me crazy, or drunk or whatever...” Gwaine says, “But I believe them.”
“Me too,” Lance says quietly.
Arthur smiles and Merlin sighs in relief. Gwaine walks over to them, claps Arthur on the shoulder and grins,
“Now, you have a lot of explaining to do.” and drags both of them to the couch.
+++
“Bloody hell.” That’s all Gwaine has to say after Arthur finishes explaining the details to them. He takes a sip of his beer (third bottle) and leans against the fireplace, shaking his head in disbelief. Lancelot, who had been pacing back and forth in the lounge stops and crosses his arm, staring at them.
“What now?” he asks.
“What do you mean?” Arthur frowns.
“I mean, what will you do? Do you have any idea how to reverse the spell?”
“Yes-I mean, no. No.” Merlin quickly corrects himself as Arthur looks at him hopefully. He can’t admit his magic. Not yet.
Arthur rubs his hands over his face and Lance looks at him sympathetically. “You must be tired. Well, until you figure something out, you can stay here.”
“Fine with me,” Gwaine says when Lance looks to him for conformation.
“Thank you.” Merlin says, smiling at Lance.
“It’s the least we can do. But I have a feeling we’ll need to explain a lot of things to you.”
“Yes, about that.” Arthur speaks up. “How are you and Gwaine...you know...” he waves his hand helplessly towards them.
Gwaine set’s his bottle down and moves to put an arm around Lance’s waist. “Yes?” he prompts, narrowing his eyes slightly.
Arthur blushes a little, “How can you both be...I mean you’re men!”
“Is that a problem?” Gwaine asks sharply.
“No-no?” Arthur looks like he regrets getting into this conversation.
“It’s the 21st century.” Lance says, pushing Gwaine away and coming to sit at the edge of the coffee table, “Homosexuality isn’t as tabooed.”
“But isn’t it weird?” Arthur says, almost in a whisper.
“Is it weird when you and Merlin do it?” Gwaine asks. “
It’s not like that!”
“We’ve never-” they both speak at the same time and turn to look each other.
Merlin grins a little nervously at him and Arthur just shakes his head and drops the subject. “I think I’ll return to my chambers for the night, I really am exhausted.” He says with the authority air he’s so used to.
Gwaine grins at Lancelot. “Show his highness to his chambers will you?”
+++
“Have you seen the size of this room? It’s smaller than the servant’s quarters in Camelot.” Arthur hisses that night as Merlin is unbuckling his armour.
“Well at least it’s got a comfortable bed.” Merlin says. “We could be out on the streets if it hadn’t been for Lancelot so it would do you good to shut up and be thankful.”
Arthur falls silent. Merlin removes the rest of his armour, setting it on the wooden table in a corner. Arthur silently moves towards the bed, pulling back the covers and sinking into the mattress. “It is comfortable.” He remarks, “I hate to admit it but it’s much better than the one back in Camelot.”
“Yeah, well, it’s the 21st century.” Merlin says. He stands at the foot of the bed, eyeing the large double bed.
“Well, that’s it for tonight, Merlin. You can leave now.” Arthur says, turning over and sprawling on all fours.
“Go where?” Merlin mutters.
Arthur frowns at him. “Don’t you have separate sleeping quarters?”
“I think Lance and Gwaine meant for us to share.” Merlin whispers.
“Share?!”
“It’s alright, I’ll sleep on the floor. Don’t shout.” Merlin grabs a pillow and settles on the cold, wooden floor. He’s slept on much worse, he decides.
He’s curling into himself, trying to get comfortable when Arthur speaks from the bed. “Is it cold on the floor?”
“Freezing.” Merlin replies.
There’s a pause and then the rustle of sheets and Arthur says, “Come up here.”
“It’s alright, Arthur.” Merlin says, though he’s already climbing up onto the soft mattress. They take a few minutes to settle in, both of them too conscious about the distance between them-the memory of Lance and Gwaine kissing too strongly embedded into their mind. They jerk away when their feet accidentally brush under the covers.
“You’re freezing!” Arthur hisses.
“Not my fault!” Merlin retorts.
Finally, they settle down. Merlin waits for the steady sounds of Arthur’s breathing to fill the room before he whispers the spell. He doesn’t know what he was expecting to happen. But nothing does. He doesn’t feel the rush of power within him, nothing. If anything, he feels foolish. He tries again. Nothing.
A gripping fear overtakes him. He tries a simpler spell, tries to make the book on the table fly to him. Nothing. With sickening realization, it hits him; he no longer has magic in this world. They’re stuck.
+++
They’re having breakfast when she walks through the door, calling out to Lancelot.
“Guinevere!” Arthur cries out. He rushes forward and pulls the shocked girl into a tight embrace, burying his face in her neck. She staggers under his weight and pats his back, unsure of how to respond. Arthur pulls away looking down at her expectantly but she just looks back with an expression of complete shock.
“Uh, it’s Gwen actually,” she says finally when no one steps in to explain Arthur’s behaviour. Arthur looks like someone has just murdered his favourite horse in front of him. Gwen immediately backtracks at the look of hurt on his face. “But I like that too! Guinevere! Very pretty name!” she smiles at him but when she looks to Lancelot behind his shoulder, she frowns.
“Gwen, this is Arthur and this is Merlin...” Lancelot claps Merlin on the shoulder and Gwen smiles at him. It’s a familiar smile, just as warm, just as friendly. Merlin waves back.
“Nice to meet you,” she says, looking straight at Arthur. Arthur forces a smile in return, cheeks tinted red with embarrassment. Merlin suppresses a grin.
“Gwen’s an old friend of mine from college.” Lance says, wrapping an arm around Gwen’s shoulder and smiling at her.
A woman steps through the front door at that moment. Tall, with pale skin, long jet black hair and large green eyes; strikingly beautiful. The kind that would make people stop and stare at her in the streets, the kind of beauty that would be envied throughout kingdoms. And it had been.
Morgana is just striking in the 21st century as she was back in Camelot. Merlin sees Arthur’s jaw clench at the sight of her, his hands balling into fists at his side, he sees the anger and hurt and betrayal reflected in his eyes and even though Merlin knows this isn’t the Morgana he knows, the one who betrayed her friends and family, this isn’t an evil witch, he can’t stop the wave of bitter resentment he feels towards her.
“Sorry about that,” she says, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Call from Leon at the bar, wanted to clear up a few business matters.”
Merlin swallows and feels all the bitterness leave him when she smiles at him. It’s friendly and warm just like Gwen’s smile, just like she used to smile at him before everything shot to hell. Like when they used to be friends. There’s an ache in Merlin’s heart-an ache for that lost friendship. He doesn’t hear Gwaine introducing them, doesn’t hear her greeting-only sees her walk up to him, only feels her lips on his cheek and the brightness of her smile.
Arthur doesn’t react as neutrally as Merlin. He jerks away when Morgana tries to kiss him and glares at her when she smiles at him, confused.
“Is something wrong?” she asks, looking from Arthur to Merlin, to Lancelot to Gwaine.
“I think you probably remind him of someone.” Merlin says, voice slightly hoarse.
“Someone nice I hope?” Arthur’s clenched jaw gives her the answer and she nods.
“Guess not.”
+++
“She’s not her you know.” Merlin says later that evening when they’re seated on the couch, watching Gwaine, Lancelot and Morgana laughing in the kitchen while Gwen stirs a spoon in a simmering pot.
Arthur grips his beer bottle so tightly his knuckles are white. “I know.” He replies through gritted teeth. “It’s just...she looks just like her. Even her voice sounds the same...how am I supposed to overlook everything I know she’s done and regard her as a different person?”
“You can’t punish her for someone else’s mistakes.”
“She’s not someone else.”
“She’s another version of herself. She’s not the one that betrayed you. She doesn’t even know you!”
Arthur sips his beer in silence. “Guinevere doesn’t recognize me.” He says solemnly. “Of course she doesn’t Arthur, nobody recognizes us. They’re not the Lancelot, Gwaine, Morgana and Gwen we know. Lance and Gwaine are boyfriends, Morgana runs a club and Gwen is her girlfriend. What part of that reminds you of the people we know?”
Arthur leans back against the sofa cushions and sighs. “This is too weird, Merlin.”
“I know.” Merlin replies. “But given the dungeons we’ve been thrown in and the near death experiences, I’d say this is one kind of weird that I’ll take.
+++
They warm up to each other; Morgana and Arthur.
There’s something compelling in her air, a charm that the Morgana Merlin knew also had. Arthur’s drawn in possibly, Merlin thinks, because of the shared longing to know Morgana without her betrayal and hate and possibly because he’s half drunk on the bottle of wine Gwaine insisted they open for dinner.
“So you’re...actually from the medieval ages?” Gwen asks, tapping her wine glass with her fingers. Merlin shrugs, grinning. “Wow...what’s it like?”
Beside him, Morgana is refilling Arthur’s glass and asking, “So who exactly do I remind you of?” Merlin wants to turn and tell her not to go down that road but Arthur replies before he can interject. “My sister.”
Morgana wrinkles her nose. “Well there go my chances of getting you into bed.”
Arthur looks disgusted. Morgana laughs, “Still doesn’t explain why you were glaring at me.”
“Well, my sister wasn’t exactly who I thought she was. She...betrayed me.” Arthur’s voice echoes the sadness in his heart. Gwen, who has overheard him moves to join the conversation interestedly and Merlin, sighing follows her to stand beside Arthur.
“I’m sorry.” Morgana says in a quiet voice.
Arthur looks at her for a moment before his gaze shifts to Merlin. He takes a deep breath and smiles, turning to Morgana. “You’re not my sister. You don’t have to apologize.”
Morgana grins. “So I still have a chance of jumping you?”
Arthur and Merlin laugh while Gwen punches Morgana’s arm with an affronted “hey!”
+++
It feels like they’re back in Camelot, at a feast celebrating some small conquest or another; with a few notable differences. Lance has his arm swung over Gwaine’s shoulder is watching him tell Morgana and Gwen an animated version of what he first thought when he saw Merlin and Arthur. Gwen is stifling her giggles with her hand and Morgana keeps glancing at Merlin and grinning widely.
It probably has to do with Gwaine’s emphasis on the word “manservant”. Apparently, he’s still fixed onto the idea that Arthur uses his position of authority over Merlin to wriggle intimate favors. The worst part is, Merlin doesn’t find the idea as disgusting anymore and he eyes the way Arthur’s throat moves when he drinks his wine next to him, rolling his eyes and saying variations of “It’s not like that.”
“Then tell us, Arthur.” Gwaine says, leaning forward. “What is it like?”
A fresh round of laughter erupts around the table. Merlin blushes and Arthur drowns his wine. “I’m done trying to explain to you lot. Dirty minded, all of you.”
“Alright, alright I’m sorry...” Morgana says, trying to speak between her laughs. She hiccoughs “Do you dress him, though Merlin?” she asks and just like that everyone starts laughing again.
Merlin looks to Arthur and can’t help but grin a little at the red that’s crept onto Arthur’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. What the hell, he’ll have some fun while they’re at it. “Yes, I do.” He replies much to the squeals from Gwen and Morgana. “And I bathe him and wash his dirty clothes and massage oil on to his back when he’s sore from training and-” he stops because laughter eats up his words and Arthur is now beet red and glaring at Merlin and the wine is buzzing pleasantly in Merlin’s system and he can’t do anything other than laugh.
+++
It takes a long time to get used to things in the 21st century. Everything is so drastically different.
“First thing’s first. We need to get you boys some clothes.” Morgana says.
“What’s wrong with this?” Arthur asks, looking down at his rich red cotton tunic and breeches. It’s made of the finest material in Camelot, fit for a royal prince.
Apparently, Morgana doesn’t share the view. “Seriously, Arthur? What’s wrong is that you look like a mediaeval cartoon out of a movie. Which I guess in a way, you are...” Arthur looks affronted but Morgana gets her way.
They go shopping and having been very strictly told to act like two grown, mature men who do not belong to an alternate time period, they refrain from ogling at every gadget they see along the way though Merlin finds it more and more difficult when they come across things like escalators and elevators. Merlin and Arthur stand helplessly in the middle of the store as Morgana and Gwen choose shirt after shirt for them. Morgana’s a treasured customer apparently because on her request, the manager turned over the CLOSED sign on the front door and is now focusing entirely on pleasing Morgana.
The girls go on sifting through various items of clothing, putting things they like in a pile and discarding the rest. When they’re satisfied with their choices, they take Arthur and Merlin to tiny rooms at the back of the shop and shove them in with some jeans and shirts to try on.
“I hope you’ll manage to dress yourself without me?” Merlin asks, grinning at Arthur as they enter their separate trial rooms. Arthur just rolls his eyes. Merlin tugs on the underwear, surprised at the softness of the cloth and then pulls on the jeans relishing on how good it feels against his skin. The shirt takes longer to button up but when Merlin finally emerges, he finds Arthur standing with the girls wearing similar jeans and a black t-shirt that clings to his muscled form and highlights his biceps.
Merlin finds himself staring at him for a moment before the girls finally see him and Morgana rushes over, squealing. “Oh you look gorgeous Merlin!”
“Thanks.” Merlin says, blushing slightly.
He’s not very accustomed to getting compliments. He looks at Arthur, hoping to rub that compliment in his face but Arthur is staring at him strangely and the teasing words die on Merlin’s tongue.
“Ugh, this has to go.” Gwen says, tugging at the red neckerchief still tied around Merlin’s neck and before Merlin can stop her, she’s unknotted the kerchief and discarded it and Merlin is left feeling oddly naked without it. “There we are! Perfect!”
Morgana and Gwen step back to admire their handiwork appreciatively. But Merlin is looking at Arthur. His eyes trail along Merlin’s neck and Merlin suddenly feels hot under his stare and coughs uncomfortably. Arthur blinks, licks his lips and looks away. Morgana and Gwen buy them bags full of clothes.
Merlin isn’t used to more than three tunics and three breeches at a time but Morgana’s got him clothes for every occasion. The weirdest part is that Arthur has similar clothing. Arthur Pendragon. Crowned Prince of Camelot. Future King. He is going to wear the same clothing as his manservant.
Merlin gets a strange thrill out of the thought for some odd reason. It also helps that Arthur can’t seem to keep his eyes off him during lunch. He sits with Gwen across from them at the table and only pushes his food around in his plate, joining in conversation when he feels the need but otherwise, he stays silent, staring at Merlin. Merlin pretends not to notice and dismisses the redness in his cheeks as a result of feeling a bit stuffy in his new shirt.
+++
“Next step; you two need to get jobs.”
“Jobs?!” Arthur cries. “You want me to work?”
“Yes Princess, jobs.” Morgana says, grinning and she doesn’t look any less evil that she did when her previous self took over Camelot. But Merlin is thoroughly enjoying the effect of this on Arthur’s face who seems shocked at the prospect of having to work like a commoner. “You’re in the 21st century now; your royal bloodline will do you no good.”
“What’s the matter, Arthur?” Merlin teases.
Arthur glares at him, “Nothing.” He says curtly. “What sort of job do you have in mind?” he asks Morgana.
“You two can start working at my club from Monday’s to Saturday’s.” She says. “I’ll pay you decently if you work decently. Sunday’s off, 15% discount on food and beverages and the infinite possibilities of getting laid.” She says, winking.
+++
Merlin had always known Arthur was good looking. He had also known he was a complete arse but he had never been able to deny that he did have smouldering good looks. But somehow, it had never mattered. He went about his duties and Arthur went about his-making Merlin’s life as miserable as possible and it was all good.
But now...it’s different. Everything is different.
Merlin is no longer Prince Arthur’s manservant. He’s just Merlin; Arthur’s roommate and friend. Of course he’s still the one who makes up the bed in the morning and does Arthur’s laundry once he figures out how to use the laundry machines. But he no longer dresses Arthur, no longer bathes him, no longer massages oil on his back after a long day and if Merlin’s completely honest, he misses that intimacy. He craves it.
Things are weird between Arthur and him. There are things about Arthur that Merlin never allowed himself to really pay attention to but now he can’t help but notice. Emotions of which previously, Merlin would be ashamed of are now surfacing and he can’t help but feel a desire to act on them. The constant teasing from the gang only add to their awkwardness. Merlin catches Arthur staring at him more than once and Arthur frowns whenever he finds Merlin watching the way his lips move when he talks.
Merlin is eternally grateful that Arthur doesn’t have the ability to read minds otherwise he’d know that Merlin is actually imagining how it would feel to kiss those lips; kiss them just like Gwaine kisses Lancelot’s. He’s thinking of something similar when Arthur’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts; “Merlin-Merlin!”
“Huh?” Merlin turns absently to see Arthur glaring at him.
“What the hell are you doing? There are customers waiting for their drinks, get a move on!”
“Right, sorry.” Merlin apologizes hastily.
+++
“So you and Arthur get it on yet?” Gwaine asks one night while they’re both unloading the boxes of Chinese take away from the plastic bags.
“What? No!” Merlin says, going red. “We told you-it’s not like that.”
“Not like that my arse,” Gwaine says, “I know sexual tension when I see it and trust me, you and Arthur can barely stand in the same room without fucking each other with your eyes-don’t look at me like that, everyone can see it! And after that you expect me to believe you sleep in the same room and still haven’t at least had a good snog?”
Merlin stays quiet for a moment before he says, “Arthur doesn’t feel that way about me.”
“But you feel that way about him, correct?” Gwaine asks and Merlin is so thankful that his tone isn’t teasing or mocking; just understanding.
Before he can respond, the flat door opens and Arthur’s voice calls out. “Got the booze!” Merlin rolls his eyes. Arthur’s getting used to the modern language very well.
“I have an idea.” Gwaine says suddenly, something mischievous glinting in his eyes.
“What are you-” before he can finish his sentence, Gwaine grabs Merlin by the back of his neck and hauls him in for a kiss. Merlin, too shocked to do anything but stand there doesn’t respond to the kiss.
“What the hell is going on here?!” Arthur’s voice demands.
Footsteps approach and Lancelot pulls Gwaine away from Merlin, rolling his eyes. “Stop harassing Merlin, Gwaine.” He says. Gwaine laughs, “Why, you want me to harass you instead?” he asks, turning around in Lancelot’s arms and gripping him by the waist. Merlin watches them kiss, both of them smiling way too much. He’s still in shock from Gwaine’s kiss when he turns around to see Arthur glaring at him, brown paper bag of champagne in his hand.
“Um, let me get those for you...” Merlin says, taking a step towards Arthur. Arthur doesn’t reply, just dumps the bag on the kitchen counter and walks away. Merlin rounds on the kissing couple.
“What the hell was that about?!” he shouts at Gwaine.
The dark haired man pulls away and grins at Merlin, “That my friend, was to show you that your jealous prince wants to fuck you as bad as you want to.”
+++
“Fuck yes, like that...just like mm...yes...”
Merlin listens to the sounds of Lancelot moaning floating through the thin walls of the apartment. He tries to block out the sounds but they only grow louder. Merlin’s hard. Very, very hard. And by the way Arthur keeps shifting uncomfortably next to him on the bed; he guesses he’s in the same condition. But Merlin doesn’t dare do anything about it. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will his erection away.
“FUCK YES!” Gwaine shouts, it’s followed by an insistent banging of the headboard against the wall and Merlin suspects that Gwaine might be overdoing it just a little to make him and Arthur uncomfortable. The bastard.
Merlin breathes slowly, pretending not to hear the soft moans that Lancelot’s orgasm rings out of him. He’s close to gaining control of his body again when another moan sounds only, it’s closer this time. Merlin’s eyes fly open.
Arthur is moaning beside him. Oh god.
Merlin stays very, very still. The bed creaks slightly as Arthur shifts and a moment later, there’s the unmistakable sound of skin sliding against skin and Arthur moans again. His heart pounding in his chest so loudly he’s afraid Arthur will hear it; Merlin turns his head ever so slightly and in the darkness, he can see the outline of Arthur’s hand moving steadily under the covers and the thought of what he’s doing sends a fresh wave of lust spiralling through Merlin. He grits his teeth and looks away. But Arthur’s ragged breath only grows louder and his moans grow more frequent and then;
“Merlin...”
Merlin’s heart is pounding so wildly he’s afraid it’ll burst out of his chest. He doesn’t know if Arthur’s addressing him or moaning his name but the latter is too impossible an idea and without giving it more thought, Merlin turns over so he’s face to face with Arthur.
Arthur’s hand stills under the covers. He stares at Merlin, his blue eyes glinting in the faint moonlight that’s peeking through the blinds. There’s a long stretch of silence where they just stare at each other and then Arthur’s hand starts moving again. Merlin doesn’t know what he’s doing but he reaches down and pressed the heel of his palm against his own erection.
He bites back a moan at the friction of cloth against skin and his eyes flutter shut but his body is hyper aware of the close proximity with Arthur’s. He can feel Arthur’s uneven breaths tickling his face. Merlin comes silently, shuddering violently as he does. He opens his eyes and looks at Arthur through half open lids and watches his face contort in pleasure as he comes, a stray moan escaping his lips.
+++
If things had been slightly awkward before, Merlin expects them to become unbearably so after that night. But strangely enough, they don’t. If anything, they become better. There are no awkward silences, Arthur laughs a lot more when talking to him and he finds that the conversation flows easily when things are slow at the club.
Neither of them mention that night.
Gwaine asks Merlin if they’ve finally got around to fucking yet which Merlin blushes and replies to with a “Shut up.”
He won’t admit that he wants to ask Arthur about that night, wants to know why it was his name that Arthur moaned and if Merlin’s not crazy to feel what he’s feeling. But he’s too scared. He doesn’t want to lose Arthur’s friendship; he won’t risk that for anything.
+++
Merlin isn’t expecting it when it happens again.
“Merlin...” it’s unmistakable. The soft moan and the slick sound of Arthur’s hand working his cock. Merlin feels his own respond instantly. He turns around in bed, unsure of what to do.
Arthur is staring at him unashamedly and when Merlin swallows and moves closer, he only moans again, hand moving faster. Merlin bites his lip before placing his hand over Arthur’s and stilling his movements. Arthur looks at him and slowly removes his hand. Merlin wraps his fingers around Arthur, feeling the contrast of the warm organ beneath his cold fingers.
Arthur hisses at the contact and his eyes fall shut. Merlin starts slowly, stroking Arthur in a slow, teasing manner until Arthur’s head drops against Merlin’s shoulder and his breath’s become ragged. Merlin moves even closer, pressing his other hand to Arthur’s side.
“Merlin...” Arthur moans and shudders when Merlin runs his thumb along the head of Arthur’s cock. “Fuck...”
+++
And it continues. Night after night. Come morning, they’ll act like nothing happened and carry on with their daily routine but the moment Merlin slips under the covers, he knows what will follow. It goes from Merlin giving Arthur a handjob to Arthur shifting ever so slightly and his knee slipping between Merlin’s thighs and when Merlin moves-Oh that’s good.
Merlin hardly believes any of this to be real-for him to actually be this close to Arthur, touching him in this way. And then one night, Arthur pushes Merlin’s hands away and when Merlin frowns at him in the dark, he just presses closer and cups Merlin’s cock through his pyjama bottoms. Merlin barely breathes as Arthur works him, fingers sliding up and down his shaft and when he pulls the cloth down over his hips, Merlin hisses as the night air hits bare skin but a second later, it’s replaced by the hot wetness of Arthur’s mouth and Merlin arches, unable to hold back his moan.
He tangles his fingers in Arthur’s hair, moaning his name and Arthur apparently likes that because he sucks harder, taking more and more of him in his mouth and when he scrapes his teeth ever so slightly, Merlin comes so hard, his vision goes black.
+++
They still don’t talk about it, they don’t kiss, they don’t hold hands they barely even touch when they’re in the company of the others but there’s a change in their behaviour somewhere because even Lance pulls Merlin aside and asks him if there’s something going on.
“No, nothing.” Merlin says but he catches Arthur’s eye from the couch and smiles; it’s secretive, promising. Only for them.
+++
The alarm clock on Merlin’s side table blares loudly. Merlin groans and buries his face in the warmth of Arthur’s shoulder and tries to block out the noise. Eventually, when it doesn’t stop, Arthur leans over him and smacks the thing to the ground. He lets his arm thump back down, lying across Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin likes the weight of it. He opens his eyes slowly. The blue of Arthur’s meet him when he does so.
“Good morning.” He says, voice slightly hoarse.
“Morning.” Arthur replies, smiling. He brushes their noses together and Merlin smiles, leaning into the touch. They pause and Arthur’s gaze drops to his lips. Merlin feels his heart beat speed up and his breath catch in anticipation.
“We really should get up.” Arthur says suddenly and he jerks away from Merlin.
+++
Business is slow today but Merlin doesn’t mind. It gives him ample time to sneak glances at Arthur.
“You have long fingers...” Arthur says suddenly.
“What?” Merlin asks, frowning at him.
Arthur doesn't reply instead he reaches out and takes Merlin’s hand in his. Merlin feels his heart skip a beat. Arthur splays his palm under Merlin’s, the tips of his fingers grazing Merlin’s. He watches Arthur’s fingers weaving in and out between his, almost entwining. When he chances a glance at Arthur, he finds him staring at him intently. Merlin realizes how close they are, standing almost chest to chest. His gaze drops to Arthur’s lips and they’re so closer, closer than they were this morning...
“Things slow today?”Morgan asks, sliding onto a bar stool.
Merlin and Arthur jump apart. Arthur turns away and Merlin moves to pours her a shot. “Cheers.” She says, holding it up to him in a toast before downing it.
“It’s funny. Usually we have more rush during this hour.” Merlin says, looking around the thinly populated dance floor.
“Eh, well...” Gwen walks over to them, wrapping her hands around Morgana’s waist and kissing her on the cheek. Morgana smiles and turns her head, kissing Gwen softly on the lips.
“Come dance with me...” Gwen says, tugging her arms and Morgana complies. She turns back to shout “Come on, you two!” over her shoulder and Merlin gladly jumps over the bar and follows them to the dance floor.
He’s never been much of a dancer and the type of dancing that is accepted in the 21st century is nothing like the dancing Merlin was accustomed to seeing in Camelot. Arthur had been the most reluctant when Morgana first brought them out clubbing. For someone who grew up with sophisticated dance lessons as a part of his training for prince, he found the unreserved dance moves vulgar. It was too compelling in the end. That and Morgana’s threat to fire him and leave him penniless.
Merlin lets his body move to the beat of the music thumping through the speakers. He doesn’t know if Arthur’s with them or if he’s watching from the bar but when a pair of strong arms slide around his waist, he smiles and tips his head back, resting on the firm shoulder. Guess he decided to join them after all. Morgana and Gwen catch sight of him and giggle, wink and move away slightly to give him some space. Merlin continues swaying in time to the beat but feels daring and grinds his hips down slightly. He slides his arm up the man’s shoulder and cups the back of head. And then stops suddenly. The hair is much shorter than what he’d been expecting, coarser. He spins around and sees a dark haired man grinning at him. He’s clearly not Arthur.
“Fuck,” Merlin mutters and steps away from him.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
“I-I thought you were someone else.” Merlin says and turns his back on him. He catches sight of Arthur watching from the bar and his heart drops when he sees Arthur turn away from him, jaw clenched.
+++
“Arthur...” Merlin says when Arthur slams their bedroom door behind them.
“I don’t want to hear it Merlin.” Arthur says. He throws his jacket onto the floor and kicks off his shoes with such anger that Merlin winces.
“Listen to me, I didn’t-”
“I don’t care what you do.” Arthur says, rounding on him. “It’s your life, do whatever the fuck you want. I have no control over it.”
“What is your problem?!” Merlin shouts, frustrated. He’s thankful neither Gwaine nor Lancelot are at home to hear this.
“My problem? My problem is you!” Arthur yells. That stings like a blow.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Merlin asks, furious.
Arthur grabs Merlin’s head and kisses him. Hard. Merlin stands stock still for a second before he pulls Arthur in for another rough kiss. They fall onto the bed, biting each other, clawing fingers into scalps and tearing at each other’s clothes.
+++
They lie in bed afterwards, having jerked each other off quite violently and Merlin listens to the steady sounds of Arthur’s breath beside him.
“I thought he was you.” He says softly. “The man at the club...I thought he was you.”
Arthur turns to face him, “I acted like an arse.”
“You are an arse.” Merlin corrects, grinning.
Arthur shoves him lightly. “Shut up.” He says and then leans in to kiss him. It’s softer this time; much softer. And Merlin sighs when Arthur’s tongue melts with his own. They explore each other’s mouth lazily until they’re both out of breath.
+++
“Fucking finally!” Gwaine declares when he walks in on Merlin and Arthur snogging in the kitchen. They break apart and grin sheepishly at Gwaine who just pulls a carton of milk out of the fridge. “Took you long enough.”
+++
It’s a month before Merlin approaches Lancelot, fumbling through the initial words. Lance looks slightly taken aback.
“
Wait, so you haven’t...”
“Not exactly.”
“And you want me to explain to you...”
“Yeah.”
“So you can...”
“Mm-hmm.”
“With Arthur?”
“Who else?”
“Why don’t you ask Gwaine? I’m sure he’d love to explain everything.” Lance says, scratching the back of his ears.
“I’d rather announce it on BBC’s 6 o clock news.” Merlin says.
Lance sighs, “Alright then...”
+++
Afterwards, they lie together in silence until Arthur breaks it. “Do you think we’ll ever go back?”
They haven’t talked about Camelot in months. It’s been too easy to fall into life in the 21st century.
“I don’t know.” Merlin says quietly. He kisses Arthur’s chin. “Do you want to?”
Arthur contemplates for a moment. “No.” He admits softly and kisses him.
rating; R
word count; 7,773
pairings; arthur/merlin, gwaine/lanceot, gwen/morgana,
warnings; very, very slight homophobia
disclaimer; I do not own any of the characters, they're all property of their respective creators.
summary; A spell sends Arthur and Merlin into the 21st century where homosexuality smacks them right in the face in the re incarcerated forms of Lancelot, Gwaine, Morgana and Gwen. The new liberal society allows unspoken feelings to come to the surface...in weird, unspoken ways.
a/n; written for this prompt at the merlin kink meme. This was mostly an experimental piece that got out of hand. :PIt happens so quickly. Merlin sees the witch’s eyes widen dangerously, sees her lips forming the incantation but before he can stop her, they’re spiralling through darkness. Merlin can feel Arthur beside him and he reaches out, taking his arm and grasping the armour firmly. He tries to speak but no words come out and he closes his eyes, wishing for it all to stop. It does.
Merlin lays very still, hand still resting on the cool metal of Arthur’s armour; the only reassurance that he’s there beside him. Noises fade in slowly, the chatter of people talking, the thud of footsteps and then, more unfamiliar, foreign sounds. Music, only louder than any he’s heard before and aided along by an orchestra of unfamiliar instruments and a loud, wailing female voice. Merlin stirs half by his desire to block out the horrible singing. He sits up and blinks, the world before him coming into focus in a wave of nausea. They’re in what appears to be a darkened alley. The music is coming from the building opposite the road. A neon sign above it reads Knights Club. There’s a long queue of men and women outside it, all of them laughing and talking loudly.
Merlin rubs his head where it’s sore from hitting the ground so hard and tries to focus on their alien surroundings. Arthur stirs beside him suddenly remembering him, Merlin leans over him. “Arthur, are you alright?”
“What...what happened?” Arthur asks, dazed. He sits up and looks around them, “Where the hell are we?”
Merlin shakes his head. “I have no idea.” He gets to his feet and offers Arthur a hand. Arthur takes it and Merlin pulls the prince to his feet. Together, they walk to the end of the alley and step onto the road.
“Merlin, look out!” Arthur grabs him by his shoulder and pulls him back just a large...what the hell is that? whirls past them, honking loudly. It’s then that Merlin notices that the roads are full of...he doesn’t know what to call them but there are people sitting inside them and Merlin assumes that it’s some form of transport. Like horses with more than one saddle and wheels instead of feet and windows to hold it all together. Arthur doesn’t let go of Merlin’s arm, instead his fingers tighten the grip as they take in the dangerous unhorse like steeds whizzing past them.
Across the road, the wailing song ends and is followed by yet another and a girl in the queue shrieks loudly, “Oh my god Lady Gaga! I LOVE THIS SONG!”
“Gaga? What the...where are we?” Arthur looks around them, fear overshadowed by confusion. People passing them by are staring at them, some frowning, some laughing and pointing and Merlin is beginning to think that something is very, very wrong. The women here are dressed just like the men and the ones who aren’t are showing an indecent amount of skin. The men’s breeches are different, their tunics thicker and Merlin has a feeling that they’re no longer in Camelot, or Albion or their time. This is a different dimension altogether.
“Arthur...” he says slowly, “I think we might be in the future.”
“The future? Merlin what the hell are you talking about?” Arthur asks, frowning at him.
“The spell, Arthur... I think it sent us into the future. Look around you!” Merlin whispers, “This isn’t our time!” as if to emphasize his point, Lady Gaga’s voice floats across the street to them from the pub. I can’t remember but it’s alright, I’m alright Just dace
+++
“What do we do now?” Merlin asks. They’re walking down the crowded streets, turning heads and Merlin is becoming more and more uncomfortable as the seconds pass by. Arthur seems a little worried himself despite his training to remain calm and focused in any situation.
Getting thrown into the future isn’t exactly the sort of situations Prince’s are given training for. Merlin wonders if he can try a spell to send them back without revealing his magic to Arthur. He can’t think of any possible way so he resorts to hoping the spell will wear off and they’ll be back in Camelot soon enough or that he might get a chance when Arthur’s asleep. That is, if they ever find a place where they can sleep.
They haven’t got far when a man stumbles up to Arthur and pokes him in the chest, “Whatchya wearing there pretty boy?” he slurs. He smells strongly of alcohol and is very obviously drunk. His gangly friends stand a step behind him, watching the scene with amusement.
“Watch it!” Arthur warns. The man laughs and pushes Arthur, harder this time. Arthur’s hand flies to his swordbelt only to remember that his sword is lying on the forest floor back in Camelot. Useless. Arthur gulps and looks back up at the man, sizing him up. The man takes advantage of Arthur’s lack of defence to push him into the brick wall of the flower shop they’re standing in front of. “I’m warning you...I’m a prince...” but Arthur’s voice wavers.
The men and his thugs only laugh harder. “He says he’s a prince! Hear that?”
“I don’t think they care if you’re a prince Arthur...” Merlin says eyeing the way the man is now rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “They’ll crush us anyway...”
Arthur seems to share his view because he’s backing off slowly. Another man steps between them and the thugs suddenly as if appearing out of nowhere. A familiar face with dark hair and warm brown eyes... “Leave them alone Barney, they’ve done nothing wrong.” he says firmly. “Go find someone else to pick a fight with.”
The thugs leer some more at him and Arthur but turn their backs and walk away. The man turns to face them. “Lancelot!” Arthur cries in relief.
“How do you know my name?” Lancelot asks, frowning. Merlin searches his face for signs of recognition but sees none.
“You really don’t recognize us?” he asks, crestfallen.
“Am I supposed to?” Lance looks confused.
“What do you mean you’re supposed to!” Arthur exclaims, smacking Lance on the back of his head. “What’s wrong with you? It’s me! Arthur! What the hell is going on?! The last thing I remember is that witch in the Darkling Forests. She used some kind of spell and now we’re stuck in the future!”
Lance stares at them. “Um, okay?” it sounds more like a question. He leans towards Merlin, “is he drunk?” he asks.
“It’s complicated.” Merlin replies. “Look, we-we don’t really know our way around here, we’ve got no place to stay...will you help us?” he trails off.
Lancelot eyes them. “Are you going to mug me if I take you back to my flat?” he asks suspiciously.
“Mu-wha-no! You can trust us!” Merlin exclaims.
Lancelot bites his lips, “I know. I can’t explain how I know but I just know that...I can trust you.”
Merlin smiles expectantly and Lancelot sighs, “Alright then. Follow me....” he motions to them and they fall into step behind him. “Gwaine is going to kill me!” he mutters.
+++
They’re called cars. The horses with wheels and multiple saddles and windows? They’re called cars.
Lance drives them back to his house in it. It’s not very big like some others Merlin has seen on the road but it’s got comfortable seats and when Lance pushes a button, warm air wafts through the fans at the front. Arthur sits beside Lance in the seat at the front and Merlin stares out the window at the back.
Everything is so unfamiliar, so alien.
Merlin presses his forehead against the cool glass and watches his breath steam up in front of him as the world whirls by.
++++
Lance’s house is a small apartment on the second floor of a Victorian style building. It’s a comfortable looking place with plush cushions and a small bed like long chair (which Merlin later finds out is called a couch). There’s a large bookshelf dominating the right wall, stacked to the ceiling with books of all sizes-it reminds Merlin of Gaius’s quarters in Camelot. At the same time, there are so many things that Merlin doesn’t recognize though, a large square screen hanging from the ceiling being the main one (a plasma TV).
“Right.” Lance says, shutting the door behind them. “So, this is my place...”
“Lance, you back?” a voice calls out.
There’s the sound of approaching footsteps and a man walks out of one of the doors. He has short cropped, black hair that sticks up at the back of his head and is wearing nothing but blue breeches-jeans. They’re called jeans. Merlin stares at the familiar muscled chest, the untidy, albeit shorter hair and the grinning face.
Gwaine walks up to Lance, draws him in and kisses him. On the mouth. Long and hard. He doesn’t even seem to notice Merlin and Arthur standing there.
Lance looks dazed when he finally pulls away. He turns to them, “Merlin, Arthur-this is my boyfriend and flatmate, Gwaine.”
Arthur stares, Merlin can’t find words to respond. Did they just...Gwaine and Lancelot? Boyfriend? What, no. No, there was something very, very wrong.
“Well, well, well...” Gwaine grins not unlike the manner Merlin remembers. “I knew you had a thing for roleplaying Lance but where in the world did you pick up these treasures?” he saunters up to them and runs a finger along Arthur’s plate. Arthur just gapes at him. “So much attention to detail...” he turns to Merlin, eyes his ragged clothes “and what are you?”
“I-uh, I’m his manservant.” Merlin replies.
Gwaine bursts out laughing. “Oh my god...Lance, really! Where did you get them?” he’s laughing so hard he has tears in his eyes.
Lance shifts uncomfortably and gives them an apologetic look. “Sorry about him, he’s a bit...” he struggles to find the right adjective but lets it hang in the air.
“So what are we playing? Prince and manservant?” he turns to Lance. “I’m your prince and I order you to suck my cock.”
Arthur’s eyes widen, Merlin’s mouth falls open and Lance blushes.
He walks up to Gwaine who’s standing, wide eyed and grinning and slaps his arms back down to his sides. “They’re not freaking rent boys, Gwaine.”
“Really?” Gwaine asks, looking at Merlin and Arthur in turn. “Shame.” He winks at them and heads into what appears to be a tiny kitchen. He opens a white box, nearly the same height as him and pulls out a bottle which he promptly uncorks and drains. “So if you’re not here for an orgy, what are you here for and why in god’s name are you dressed in those joker costumes?”
Arthur clears his throat, finally regaining his voice. “I’m Prince Arthur of Camelot.”
“Are you now?” Gwaine raises his eyebrows and smirks, taking another swing from the bottle.
Arthur glares at him and Merlin interjects, “Look, I know this sounds completely mad but we’re not from this time. He really is a prince. And I’m really his manservant and-” he blushes at Gwaine’s ever widening smirk, “And I don’t know how to tell you this but we-we know you. Both of you. You’re knights, in our time. Back in Camelot, you’re both knights.”
Gwaine tries and fails to hold back a laugh but Lancelot is looking at them curiously. Merlin looks at him directly when he speaks again, “Please, you have to believe us. Lance, you said you knew somehow you could trust us. That’s because, in a past life-you’ve known us. We’re you’re friends. We’ve faced death together and you know me-” he glances at Arthur briefly, “You know me like no one else.”
“Wait, wait,” Gwaine says, shaking his head. “So what, we’re some kind of reincarnations of the Gwaine and Lancelot you know back in your time?”
“Yes. Basically.”
There’s silence during which even Gwaine doesn’t say anything and just stares at them in silence. Arthur seems relieved that Merlin’s done the talking is now looking hopefully from Gwaine to Lancelot, looking for the familiar features of awe and respect in his knights face. It seems like forever before anyone speaks, breaking the silence.
“Call me crazy, or drunk or whatever...” Gwaine says, “But I believe them.”
“Me too,” Lance says quietly.
Arthur smiles and Merlin sighs in relief. Gwaine walks over to them, claps Arthur on the shoulder and grins,
“Now, you have a lot of explaining to do.” and drags both of them to the couch.
+++
“Bloody hell.” That’s all Gwaine has to say after Arthur finishes explaining the details to them. He takes a sip of his beer (third bottle) and leans against the fireplace, shaking his head in disbelief. Lancelot, who had been pacing back and forth in the lounge stops and crosses his arm, staring at them.
“What now?” he asks.
“What do you mean?” Arthur frowns.
“I mean, what will you do? Do you have any idea how to reverse the spell?”
“Yes-I mean, no. No.” Merlin quickly corrects himself as Arthur looks at him hopefully. He can’t admit his magic. Not yet.
Arthur rubs his hands over his face and Lance looks at him sympathetically. “You must be tired. Well, until you figure something out, you can stay here.”
“Fine with me,” Gwaine says when Lance looks to him for conformation.
“Thank you.” Merlin says, smiling at Lance.
“It’s the least we can do. But I have a feeling we’ll need to explain a lot of things to you.”
“Yes, about that.” Arthur speaks up. “How are you and Gwaine...you know...” he waves his hand helplessly towards them.
Gwaine set’s his bottle down and moves to put an arm around Lance’s waist. “Yes?” he prompts, narrowing his eyes slightly.
Arthur blushes a little, “How can you both be...I mean you’re men!”
“Is that a problem?” Gwaine asks sharply.
“No-no?” Arthur looks like he regrets getting into this conversation.
“It’s the 21st century.” Lance says, pushing Gwaine away and coming to sit at the edge of the coffee table, “Homosexuality isn’t as tabooed.”
“But isn’t it weird?” Arthur says, almost in a whisper.
“Is it weird when you and Merlin do it?” Gwaine asks. “
It’s not like that!”
“We’ve never-” they both speak at the same time and turn to look each other.
Merlin grins a little nervously at him and Arthur just shakes his head and drops the subject. “I think I’ll return to my chambers for the night, I really am exhausted.” He says with the authority air he’s so used to.
Gwaine grins at Lancelot. “Show his highness to his chambers will you?”
+++
“Have you seen the size of this room? It’s smaller than the servant’s quarters in Camelot.” Arthur hisses that night as Merlin is unbuckling his armour.
“Well at least it’s got a comfortable bed.” Merlin says. “We could be out on the streets if it hadn’t been for Lancelot so it would do you good to shut up and be thankful.”
Arthur falls silent. Merlin removes the rest of his armour, setting it on the wooden table in a corner. Arthur silently moves towards the bed, pulling back the covers and sinking into the mattress. “It is comfortable.” He remarks, “I hate to admit it but it’s much better than the one back in Camelot.”
“Yeah, well, it’s the 21st century.” Merlin says. He stands at the foot of the bed, eyeing the large double bed.
“Well, that’s it for tonight, Merlin. You can leave now.” Arthur says, turning over and sprawling on all fours.
“Go where?” Merlin mutters.
Arthur frowns at him. “Don’t you have separate sleeping quarters?”
“I think Lance and Gwaine meant for us to share.” Merlin whispers.
“Share?!”
“It’s alright, I’ll sleep on the floor. Don’t shout.” Merlin grabs a pillow and settles on the cold, wooden floor. He’s slept on much worse, he decides.
He’s curling into himself, trying to get comfortable when Arthur speaks from the bed. “Is it cold on the floor?”
“Freezing.” Merlin replies.
There’s a pause and then the rustle of sheets and Arthur says, “Come up here.”
“It’s alright, Arthur.” Merlin says, though he’s already climbing up onto the soft mattress. They take a few minutes to settle in, both of them too conscious about the distance between them-the memory of Lance and Gwaine kissing too strongly embedded into their mind. They jerk away when their feet accidentally brush under the covers.
“You’re freezing!” Arthur hisses.
“Not my fault!” Merlin retorts.
Finally, they settle down. Merlin waits for the steady sounds of Arthur’s breathing to fill the room before he whispers the spell. He doesn’t know what he was expecting to happen. But nothing does. He doesn’t feel the rush of power within him, nothing. If anything, he feels foolish. He tries again. Nothing.
A gripping fear overtakes him. He tries a simpler spell, tries to make the book on the table fly to him. Nothing. With sickening realization, it hits him; he no longer has magic in this world. They’re stuck.
+++
They’re having breakfast when she walks through the door, calling out to Lancelot.
“Guinevere!” Arthur cries out. He rushes forward and pulls the shocked girl into a tight embrace, burying his face in her neck. She staggers under his weight and pats his back, unsure of how to respond. Arthur pulls away looking down at her expectantly but she just looks back with an expression of complete shock.
“Uh, it’s Gwen actually,” she says finally when no one steps in to explain Arthur’s behaviour. Arthur looks like someone has just murdered his favourite horse in front of him. Gwen immediately backtracks at the look of hurt on his face. “But I like that too! Guinevere! Very pretty name!” she smiles at him but when she looks to Lancelot behind his shoulder, she frowns.
“Gwen, this is Arthur and this is Merlin...” Lancelot claps Merlin on the shoulder and Gwen smiles at him. It’s a familiar smile, just as warm, just as friendly. Merlin waves back.
“Nice to meet you,” she says, looking straight at Arthur. Arthur forces a smile in return, cheeks tinted red with embarrassment. Merlin suppresses a grin.
“Gwen’s an old friend of mine from college.” Lance says, wrapping an arm around Gwen’s shoulder and smiling at her.
A woman steps through the front door at that moment. Tall, with pale skin, long jet black hair and large green eyes; strikingly beautiful. The kind that would make people stop and stare at her in the streets, the kind of beauty that would be envied throughout kingdoms. And it had been.
Morgana is just striking in the 21st century as she was back in Camelot. Merlin sees Arthur’s jaw clench at the sight of her, his hands balling into fists at his side, he sees the anger and hurt and betrayal reflected in his eyes and even though Merlin knows this isn’t the Morgana he knows, the one who betrayed her friends and family, this isn’t an evil witch, he can’t stop the wave of bitter resentment he feels towards her.
“Sorry about that,” she says, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Call from Leon at the bar, wanted to clear up a few business matters.”
Merlin swallows and feels all the bitterness leave him when she smiles at him. It’s friendly and warm just like Gwen’s smile, just like she used to smile at him before everything shot to hell. Like when they used to be friends. There’s an ache in Merlin’s heart-an ache for that lost friendship. He doesn’t hear Gwaine introducing them, doesn’t hear her greeting-only sees her walk up to him, only feels her lips on his cheek and the brightness of her smile.
Arthur doesn’t react as neutrally as Merlin. He jerks away when Morgana tries to kiss him and glares at her when she smiles at him, confused.
“Is something wrong?” she asks, looking from Arthur to Merlin, to Lancelot to Gwaine.
“I think you probably remind him of someone.” Merlin says, voice slightly hoarse.
“Someone nice I hope?” Arthur’s clenched jaw gives her the answer and she nods.
“Guess not.”
+++
“She’s not her you know.” Merlin says later that evening when they’re seated on the couch, watching Gwaine, Lancelot and Morgana laughing in the kitchen while Gwen stirs a spoon in a simmering pot.
Arthur grips his beer bottle so tightly his knuckles are white. “I know.” He replies through gritted teeth. “It’s just...she looks just like her. Even her voice sounds the same...how am I supposed to overlook everything I know she’s done and regard her as a different person?”
“You can’t punish her for someone else’s mistakes.”
“She’s not someone else.”
“She’s another version of herself. She’s not the one that betrayed you. She doesn’t even know you!”
Arthur sips his beer in silence. “Guinevere doesn’t recognize me.” He says solemnly. “Of course she doesn’t Arthur, nobody recognizes us. They’re not the Lancelot, Gwaine, Morgana and Gwen we know. Lance and Gwaine are boyfriends, Morgana runs a club and Gwen is her girlfriend. What part of that reminds you of the people we know?”
Arthur leans back against the sofa cushions and sighs. “This is too weird, Merlin.”
“I know.” Merlin replies. “But given the dungeons we’ve been thrown in and the near death experiences, I’d say this is one kind of weird that I’ll take.
+++
They warm up to each other; Morgana and Arthur.
There’s something compelling in her air, a charm that the Morgana Merlin knew also had. Arthur’s drawn in possibly, Merlin thinks, because of the shared longing to know Morgana without her betrayal and hate and possibly because he’s half drunk on the bottle of wine Gwaine insisted they open for dinner.
“So you’re...actually from the medieval ages?” Gwen asks, tapping her wine glass with her fingers. Merlin shrugs, grinning. “Wow...what’s it like?”
Beside him, Morgana is refilling Arthur’s glass and asking, “So who exactly do I remind you of?” Merlin wants to turn and tell her not to go down that road but Arthur replies before he can interject. “My sister.”
Morgana wrinkles her nose. “Well there go my chances of getting you into bed.”
Arthur looks disgusted. Morgana laughs, “Still doesn’t explain why you were glaring at me.”
“Well, my sister wasn’t exactly who I thought she was. She...betrayed me.” Arthur’s voice echoes the sadness in his heart. Gwen, who has overheard him moves to join the conversation interestedly and Merlin, sighing follows her to stand beside Arthur.
“I’m sorry.” Morgana says in a quiet voice.
Arthur looks at her for a moment before his gaze shifts to Merlin. He takes a deep breath and smiles, turning to Morgana. “You’re not my sister. You don’t have to apologize.”
Morgana grins. “So I still have a chance of jumping you?”
Arthur and Merlin laugh while Gwen punches Morgana’s arm with an affronted “hey!”
+++
It feels like they’re back in Camelot, at a feast celebrating some small conquest or another; with a few notable differences. Lance has his arm swung over Gwaine’s shoulder is watching him tell Morgana and Gwen an animated version of what he first thought when he saw Merlin and Arthur. Gwen is stifling her giggles with her hand and Morgana keeps glancing at Merlin and grinning widely.
It probably has to do with Gwaine’s emphasis on the word “manservant”. Apparently, he’s still fixed onto the idea that Arthur uses his position of authority over Merlin to wriggle intimate favors. The worst part is, Merlin doesn’t find the idea as disgusting anymore and he eyes the way Arthur’s throat moves when he drinks his wine next to him, rolling his eyes and saying variations of “It’s not like that.”
“Then tell us, Arthur.” Gwaine says, leaning forward. “What is it like?”
A fresh round of laughter erupts around the table. Merlin blushes and Arthur drowns his wine. “I’m done trying to explain to you lot. Dirty minded, all of you.”
“Alright, alright I’m sorry...” Morgana says, trying to speak between her laughs. She hiccoughs “Do you dress him, though Merlin?” she asks and just like that everyone starts laughing again.
Merlin looks to Arthur and can’t help but grin a little at the red that’s crept onto Arthur’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. What the hell, he’ll have some fun while they’re at it. “Yes, I do.” He replies much to the squeals from Gwen and Morgana. “And I bathe him and wash his dirty clothes and massage oil on to his back when he’s sore from training and-” he stops because laughter eats up his words and Arthur is now beet red and glaring at Merlin and the wine is buzzing pleasantly in Merlin’s system and he can’t do anything other than laugh.
+++
It takes a long time to get used to things in the 21st century. Everything is so drastically different.
“First thing’s first. We need to get you boys some clothes.” Morgana says.
“What’s wrong with this?” Arthur asks, looking down at his rich red cotton tunic and breeches. It’s made of the finest material in Camelot, fit for a royal prince.
Apparently, Morgana doesn’t share the view. “Seriously, Arthur? What’s wrong is that you look like a mediaeval cartoon out of a movie. Which I guess in a way, you are...” Arthur looks affronted but Morgana gets her way.
They go shopping and having been very strictly told to act like two grown, mature men who do not belong to an alternate time period, they refrain from ogling at every gadget they see along the way though Merlin finds it more and more difficult when they come across things like escalators and elevators. Merlin and Arthur stand helplessly in the middle of the store as Morgana and Gwen choose shirt after shirt for them. Morgana’s a treasured customer apparently because on her request, the manager turned over the CLOSED sign on the front door and is now focusing entirely on pleasing Morgana.
The girls go on sifting through various items of clothing, putting things they like in a pile and discarding the rest. When they’re satisfied with their choices, they take Arthur and Merlin to tiny rooms at the back of the shop and shove them in with some jeans and shirts to try on.
“I hope you’ll manage to dress yourself without me?” Merlin asks, grinning at Arthur as they enter their separate trial rooms. Arthur just rolls his eyes. Merlin tugs on the underwear, surprised at the softness of the cloth and then pulls on the jeans relishing on how good it feels against his skin. The shirt takes longer to button up but when Merlin finally emerges, he finds Arthur standing with the girls wearing similar jeans and a black t-shirt that clings to his muscled form and highlights his biceps.
Merlin finds himself staring at him for a moment before the girls finally see him and Morgana rushes over, squealing. “Oh you look gorgeous Merlin!”
“Thanks.” Merlin says, blushing slightly.
He’s not very accustomed to getting compliments. He looks at Arthur, hoping to rub that compliment in his face but Arthur is staring at him strangely and the teasing words die on Merlin’s tongue.
“Ugh, this has to go.” Gwen says, tugging at the red neckerchief still tied around Merlin’s neck and before Merlin can stop her, she’s unknotted the kerchief and discarded it and Merlin is left feeling oddly naked without it. “There we are! Perfect!”
Morgana and Gwen step back to admire their handiwork appreciatively. But Merlin is looking at Arthur. His eyes trail along Merlin’s neck and Merlin suddenly feels hot under his stare and coughs uncomfortably. Arthur blinks, licks his lips and looks away. Morgana and Gwen buy them bags full of clothes.
Merlin isn’t used to more than three tunics and three breeches at a time but Morgana’s got him clothes for every occasion. The weirdest part is that Arthur has similar clothing. Arthur Pendragon. Crowned Prince of Camelot. Future King. He is going to wear the same clothing as his manservant.
Merlin gets a strange thrill out of the thought for some odd reason. It also helps that Arthur can’t seem to keep his eyes off him during lunch. He sits with Gwen across from them at the table and only pushes his food around in his plate, joining in conversation when he feels the need but otherwise, he stays silent, staring at Merlin. Merlin pretends not to notice and dismisses the redness in his cheeks as a result of feeling a bit stuffy in his new shirt.
+++
“Next step; you two need to get jobs.”
“Jobs?!” Arthur cries. “You want me to work?”
“Yes Princess, jobs.” Morgana says, grinning and she doesn’t look any less evil that she did when her previous self took over Camelot. But Merlin is thoroughly enjoying the effect of this on Arthur’s face who seems shocked at the prospect of having to work like a commoner. “You’re in the 21st century now; your royal bloodline will do you no good.”
“What’s the matter, Arthur?” Merlin teases.
Arthur glares at him, “Nothing.” He says curtly. “What sort of job do you have in mind?” he asks Morgana.
“You two can start working at my club from Monday’s to Saturday’s.” She says. “I’ll pay you decently if you work decently. Sunday’s off, 15% discount on food and beverages and the infinite possibilities of getting laid.” She says, winking.
+++
Merlin had always known Arthur was good looking. He had also known he was a complete arse but he had never been able to deny that he did have smouldering good looks. But somehow, it had never mattered. He went about his duties and Arthur went about his-making Merlin’s life as miserable as possible and it was all good.
But now...it’s different. Everything is different.
Merlin is no longer Prince Arthur’s manservant. He’s just Merlin; Arthur’s roommate and friend. Of course he’s still the one who makes up the bed in the morning and does Arthur’s laundry once he figures out how to use the laundry machines. But he no longer dresses Arthur, no longer bathes him, no longer massages oil on his back after a long day and if Merlin’s completely honest, he misses that intimacy. He craves it.
Things are weird between Arthur and him. There are things about Arthur that Merlin never allowed himself to really pay attention to but now he can’t help but notice. Emotions of which previously, Merlin would be ashamed of are now surfacing and he can’t help but feel a desire to act on them. The constant teasing from the gang only add to their awkwardness. Merlin catches Arthur staring at him more than once and Arthur frowns whenever he finds Merlin watching the way his lips move when he talks.
Merlin is eternally grateful that Arthur doesn’t have the ability to read minds otherwise he’d know that Merlin is actually imagining how it would feel to kiss those lips; kiss them just like Gwaine kisses Lancelot’s. He’s thinking of something similar when Arthur’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts; “Merlin-Merlin!”
“Huh?” Merlin turns absently to see Arthur glaring at him.
“What the hell are you doing? There are customers waiting for their drinks, get a move on!”
“Right, sorry.” Merlin apologizes hastily.
+++
“So you and Arthur get it on yet?” Gwaine asks one night while they’re both unloading the boxes of Chinese take away from the plastic bags.
“What? No!” Merlin says, going red. “We told you-it’s not like that.”
“Not like that my arse,” Gwaine says, “I know sexual tension when I see it and trust me, you and Arthur can barely stand in the same room without fucking each other with your eyes-don’t look at me like that, everyone can see it! And after that you expect me to believe you sleep in the same room and still haven’t at least had a good snog?”
Merlin stays quiet for a moment before he says, “Arthur doesn’t feel that way about me.”
“But you feel that way about him, correct?” Gwaine asks and Merlin is so thankful that his tone isn’t teasing or mocking; just understanding.
Before he can respond, the flat door opens and Arthur’s voice calls out. “Got the booze!” Merlin rolls his eyes. Arthur’s getting used to the modern language very well.
“I have an idea.” Gwaine says suddenly, something mischievous glinting in his eyes.
“What are you-” before he can finish his sentence, Gwaine grabs Merlin by the back of his neck and hauls him in for a kiss. Merlin, too shocked to do anything but stand there doesn’t respond to the kiss.
“What the hell is going on here?!” Arthur’s voice demands.
Footsteps approach and Lancelot pulls Gwaine away from Merlin, rolling his eyes. “Stop harassing Merlin, Gwaine.” He says. Gwaine laughs, “Why, you want me to harass you instead?” he asks, turning around in Lancelot’s arms and gripping him by the waist. Merlin watches them kiss, both of them smiling way too much. He’s still in shock from Gwaine’s kiss when he turns around to see Arthur glaring at him, brown paper bag of champagne in his hand.
“Um, let me get those for you...” Merlin says, taking a step towards Arthur. Arthur doesn’t reply, just dumps the bag on the kitchen counter and walks away. Merlin rounds on the kissing couple.
“What the hell was that about?!” he shouts at Gwaine.
The dark haired man pulls away and grins at Merlin, “That my friend, was to show you that your jealous prince wants to fuck you as bad as you want to.”
+++
“Fuck yes, like that...just like mm...yes...”
Merlin listens to the sounds of Lancelot moaning floating through the thin walls of the apartment. He tries to block out the sounds but they only grow louder. Merlin’s hard. Very, very hard. And by the way Arthur keeps shifting uncomfortably next to him on the bed; he guesses he’s in the same condition. But Merlin doesn’t dare do anything about it. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will his erection away.
“FUCK YES!” Gwaine shouts, it’s followed by an insistent banging of the headboard against the wall and Merlin suspects that Gwaine might be overdoing it just a little to make him and Arthur uncomfortable. The bastard.
Merlin breathes slowly, pretending not to hear the soft moans that Lancelot’s orgasm rings out of him. He’s close to gaining control of his body again when another moan sounds only, it’s closer this time. Merlin’s eyes fly open.
Arthur is moaning beside him. Oh god.
Merlin stays very, very still. The bed creaks slightly as Arthur shifts and a moment later, there’s the unmistakable sound of skin sliding against skin and Arthur moans again. His heart pounding in his chest so loudly he’s afraid Arthur will hear it; Merlin turns his head ever so slightly and in the darkness, he can see the outline of Arthur’s hand moving steadily under the covers and the thought of what he’s doing sends a fresh wave of lust spiralling through Merlin. He grits his teeth and looks away. But Arthur’s ragged breath only grows louder and his moans grow more frequent and then;
“Merlin...”
Merlin’s heart is pounding so wildly he’s afraid it’ll burst out of his chest. He doesn’t know if Arthur’s addressing him or moaning his name but the latter is too impossible an idea and without giving it more thought, Merlin turns over so he’s face to face with Arthur.
Arthur’s hand stills under the covers. He stares at Merlin, his blue eyes glinting in the faint moonlight that’s peeking through the blinds. There’s a long stretch of silence where they just stare at each other and then Arthur’s hand starts moving again. Merlin doesn’t know what he’s doing but he reaches down and pressed the heel of his palm against his own erection.
He bites back a moan at the friction of cloth against skin and his eyes flutter shut but his body is hyper aware of the close proximity with Arthur’s. He can feel Arthur’s uneven breaths tickling his face. Merlin comes silently, shuddering violently as he does. He opens his eyes and looks at Arthur through half open lids and watches his face contort in pleasure as he comes, a stray moan escaping his lips.
+++
If things had been slightly awkward before, Merlin expects them to become unbearably so after that night. But strangely enough, they don’t. If anything, they become better. There are no awkward silences, Arthur laughs a lot more when talking to him and he finds that the conversation flows easily when things are slow at the club.
Neither of them mention that night.
Gwaine asks Merlin if they’ve finally got around to fucking yet which Merlin blushes and replies to with a “Shut up.”
He won’t admit that he wants to ask Arthur about that night, wants to know why it was his name that Arthur moaned and if Merlin’s not crazy to feel what he’s feeling. But he’s too scared. He doesn’t want to lose Arthur’s friendship; he won’t risk that for anything.
+++
Merlin isn’t expecting it when it happens again.
“Merlin...” it’s unmistakable. The soft moan and the slick sound of Arthur’s hand working his cock. Merlin feels his own respond instantly. He turns around in bed, unsure of what to do.
Arthur is staring at him unashamedly and when Merlin swallows and moves closer, he only moans again, hand moving faster. Merlin bites his lip before placing his hand over Arthur’s and stilling his movements. Arthur looks at him and slowly removes his hand. Merlin wraps his fingers around Arthur, feeling the contrast of the warm organ beneath his cold fingers.
Arthur hisses at the contact and his eyes fall shut. Merlin starts slowly, stroking Arthur in a slow, teasing manner until Arthur’s head drops against Merlin’s shoulder and his breath’s become ragged. Merlin moves even closer, pressing his other hand to Arthur’s side.
“Merlin...” Arthur moans and shudders when Merlin runs his thumb along the head of Arthur’s cock. “Fuck...”
+++
And it continues. Night after night. Come morning, they’ll act like nothing happened and carry on with their daily routine but the moment Merlin slips under the covers, he knows what will follow. It goes from Merlin giving Arthur a handjob to Arthur shifting ever so slightly and his knee slipping between Merlin’s thighs and when Merlin moves-Oh that’s good.
Merlin hardly believes any of this to be real-for him to actually be this close to Arthur, touching him in this way. And then one night, Arthur pushes Merlin’s hands away and when Merlin frowns at him in the dark, he just presses closer and cups Merlin’s cock through his pyjama bottoms. Merlin barely breathes as Arthur works him, fingers sliding up and down his shaft and when he pulls the cloth down over his hips, Merlin hisses as the night air hits bare skin but a second later, it’s replaced by the hot wetness of Arthur’s mouth and Merlin arches, unable to hold back his moan.
He tangles his fingers in Arthur’s hair, moaning his name and Arthur apparently likes that because he sucks harder, taking more and more of him in his mouth and when he scrapes his teeth ever so slightly, Merlin comes so hard, his vision goes black.
+++
They still don’t talk about it, they don’t kiss, they don’t hold hands they barely even touch when they’re in the company of the others but there’s a change in their behaviour somewhere because even Lance pulls Merlin aside and asks him if there’s something going on.
“No, nothing.” Merlin says but he catches Arthur’s eye from the couch and smiles; it’s secretive, promising. Only for them.
+++
The alarm clock on Merlin’s side table blares loudly. Merlin groans and buries his face in the warmth of Arthur’s shoulder and tries to block out the noise. Eventually, when it doesn’t stop, Arthur leans over him and smacks the thing to the ground. He lets his arm thump back down, lying across Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin likes the weight of it. He opens his eyes slowly. The blue of Arthur’s meet him when he does so.
“Good morning.” He says, voice slightly hoarse.
“Morning.” Arthur replies, smiling. He brushes their noses together and Merlin smiles, leaning into the touch. They pause and Arthur’s gaze drops to his lips. Merlin feels his heart beat speed up and his breath catch in anticipation.
“We really should get up.” Arthur says suddenly and he jerks away from Merlin.
+++
Business is slow today but Merlin doesn’t mind. It gives him ample time to sneak glances at Arthur.
“You have long fingers...” Arthur says suddenly.
“What?” Merlin asks, frowning at him.
Arthur doesn't reply instead he reaches out and takes Merlin’s hand in his. Merlin feels his heart skip a beat. Arthur splays his palm under Merlin’s, the tips of his fingers grazing Merlin’s. He watches Arthur’s fingers weaving in and out between his, almost entwining. When he chances a glance at Arthur, he finds him staring at him intently. Merlin realizes how close they are, standing almost chest to chest. His gaze drops to Arthur’s lips and they’re so closer, closer than they were this morning...
“Things slow today?”Morgan asks, sliding onto a bar stool.
Merlin and Arthur jump apart. Arthur turns away and Merlin moves to pours her a shot. “Cheers.” She says, holding it up to him in a toast before downing it.
“It’s funny. Usually we have more rush during this hour.” Merlin says, looking around the thinly populated dance floor.
“Eh, well...” Gwen walks over to them, wrapping her hands around Morgana’s waist and kissing her on the cheek. Morgana smiles and turns her head, kissing Gwen softly on the lips.
“Come dance with me...” Gwen says, tugging her arms and Morgana complies. She turns back to shout “Come on, you two!” over her shoulder and Merlin gladly jumps over the bar and follows them to the dance floor.
He’s never been much of a dancer and the type of dancing that is accepted in the 21st century is nothing like the dancing Merlin was accustomed to seeing in Camelot. Arthur had been the most reluctant when Morgana first brought them out clubbing. For someone who grew up with sophisticated dance lessons as a part of his training for prince, he found the unreserved dance moves vulgar. It was too compelling in the end. That and Morgana’s threat to fire him and leave him penniless.
Merlin lets his body move to the beat of the music thumping through the speakers. He doesn’t know if Arthur’s with them or if he’s watching from the bar but when a pair of strong arms slide around his waist, he smiles and tips his head back, resting on the firm shoulder. Guess he decided to join them after all. Morgana and Gwen catch sight of him and giggle, wink and move away slightly to give him some space. Merlin continues swaying in time to the beat but feels daring and grinds his hips down slightly. He slides his arm up the man’s shoulder and cups the back of head. And then stops suddenly. The hair is much shorter than what he’d been expecting, coarser. He spins around and sees a dark haired man grinning at him. He’s clearly not Arthur.
“Fuck,” Merlin mutters and steps away from him.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
“I-I thought you were someone else.” Merlin says and turns his back on him. He catches sight of Arthur watching from the bar and his heart drops when he sees Arthur turn away from him, jaw clenched.
+++
“Arthur...” Merlin says when Arthur slams their bedroom door behind them.
“I don’t want to hear it Merlin.” Arthur says. He throws his jacket onto the floor and kicks off his shoes with such anger that Merlin winces.
“Listen to me, I didn’t-”
“I don’t care what you do.” Arthur says, rounding on him. “It’s your life, do whatever the fuck you want. I have no control over it.”
“What is your problem?!” Merlin shouts, frustrated. He’s thankful neither Gwaine nor Lancelot are at home to hear this.
“My problem? My problem is you!” Arthur yells. That stings like a blow.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Merlin asks, furious.
Arthur grabs Merlin’s head and kisses him. Hard. Merlin stands stock still for a second before he pulls Arthur in for another rough kiss. They fall onto the bed, biting each other, clawing fingers into scalps and tearing at each other’s clothes.
+++
They lie in bed afterwards, having jerked each other off quite violently and Merlin listens to the steady sounds of Arthur’s breath beside him.
“I thought he was you.” He says softly. “The man at the club...I thought he was you.”
Arthur turns to face him, “I acted like an arse.”
“You are an arse.” Merlin corrects, grinning.
Arthur shoves him lightly. “Shut up.” He says and then leans in to kiss him. It’s softer this time; much softer. And Merlin sighs when Arthur’s tongue melts with his own. They explore each other’s mouth lazily until they’re both out of breath.
+++
“Fucking finally!” Gwaine declares when he walks in on Merlin and Arthur snogging in the kitchen. They break apart and grin sheepishly at Gwaine who just pulls a carton of milk out of the fridge. “Took you long enough.”
+++
It’s a month before Merlin approaches Lancelot, fumbling through the initial words. Lance looks slightly taken aback.
“
Wait, so you haven’t...”
“Not exactly.”
“And you want me to explain to you...”
“Yeah.”
“So you can...”
“Mm-hmm.”
“With Arthur?”
“Who else?”
“Why don’t you ask Gwaine? I’m sure he’d love to explain everything.” Lance says, scratching the back of his ears.
“I’d rather announce it on BBC’s 6 o clock news.” Merlin says.
Lance sighs, “Alright then...”
+++
Afterwards, they lie together in silence until Arthur breaks it. “Do you think we’ll ever go back?”
They haven’t talked about Camelot in months. It’s been too easy to fall into life in the 21st century.
“I don’t know.” Merlin says quietly. He kisses Arthur’s chin. “Do you want to?”
Arthur contemplates for a moment. “No.” He admits softly and kisses him.