FIC: THE ROMAN MAN'S GUIDE TO COURTSHIP
Merlin ignored it at first because he thought it was just another phase Arthur was going through, like the “I’m going to grunt at you until you realise that you forgot my birthday” phase. Merlin had even checked with Gaius and Morgana that he hadn’t forgotten any essential dates. But this phase wasn’t passing. In fact, it seemed to be getting progressively worse.
Arthur went from pinching Merlin in the arm on hunting trips, to swatting his head after a joke, and kicking him in the shin when they walked. He punched Merlin in the face after a hug, and bit his hand when Merlin poured wine into his goblet. He scratched Merlin as the latter got his robe on, and pulled at his hair after breakfast. And he did it all with a smile on his face.
But it was Arthur, and Merlin would let him get away with mostly anything, and really, how did one bring up this topic anyways? Merlin decided that this needed to stop, and soon. Before Arthur decided to kill him, preferably.
So he sidled up to Gaius as the latter was talking to Morgana about her sleep patterns, and cleared his throat. “Gaius, have you noticed anything strange about Arthur?”
“What do you mean by that?” Gaius asked, as he turned to look at him.
“It’s just that he’s been awful towards me lately, but he’s not saying anything.” Morgana and Gaius shared a sort of look that didn’t escape Merlin’s notice. “What?”
Morgana emitted a laugh that sounded like a deranged chicken and ran from the room, which was as queer as Arthur’s behaviour. Gaius just patted Merlin on the shoulder with an amused grin and walked out after Morgana, carrying a handful of potions. Merlin was left standing with a confused expression on his face.
“Right. That was strange.”
*
“Gwen!”
Gwen turned to look at Merlin, a smile growing on her face as Merlin scrambled to catch up with her.
“Hello, Merlin! How are the Arthur troubles?”
Merlin groaned. “Terrible, he’s gotten worse, I swear. The other day he tripped me into a bush of -”
“Hallo, you two!” Merlin resisted the urge to punch something as a familiar hand hit him upside the head. A corner of Gwen’s mouth twitched upwards, but like a good friend she stifled her impulse to laugh in the face of Merlin’s pain.
Arthur smiled at both of them, and Merlin tried not to set his pretty blond head on fire while Gwen, the traitor, beamed back at Arthur.
“Merlin, do you want to come help me oversee tonight’s preparations for the feast?”
Merlin was about to open his mouth and say yes, when Arthur walloped him in the back. Hard. With a fucking smile on his bloody princely face. Merlin turned to Gwen with wide eyes, pleading silently for her to save him from this madness.
Gwen valiantly tried to hide her laughter by biting her lip, and then vaguely muttered what sounded like an apology and rushed away. Merlin stared at her retreating back in a sort of wounded betrayal.
The following “Merlin?” was accompanied by an elbow in his ribs, and alright, Merlin had had enough.
“Are you mad at me?” he accused, shoving a finger into Arthur’s face.
Arthur seemed perplexed as he stared cross-eyed at the pale finger. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s just that you keep on hitting me, and sure, you’ve hit me before but it all seemed to be playful shoving, except now you seem hell-bent on getting me killed and I’ve no idea what I’ve done wrong. Arthur, I even asked Morgana whether I’ve missed your second birthday, because I’m not sure whether royals have more than one birthday a year, or maybe because you’re Prince, every other day is a celebration that the sun shines out of your royal arse, but I’ve no idea what I’m doing wrong and I want you to stop injuring me and -mmph!” Merlin flailed as Arthur clapped a hand over his mouth.
“I just like you.”
Oh thank god, now this all made perfect sense and they could go on - Wait, what?
Arthur removed his hand and seemed to be shyly scuffing his boots.
“I’ve been hinting at it for ages, but it all seemed to be lost on you. So I asked Father, and he said that real Roman men expressed their affections for each other through violence.”
Merlin stared at Arthur.
Arthur looked up at Merlin and stared back.
Merlin then grabbed Arthur by the lapels of his coat and swallowed his shout of protest with his own mouth.
“This,” he whispered, threading his fingers through Arthur’s soft hair, “is how you tell someone you like them, you prat. This is how I’m showing you that I’m in love with you.”
And then Merlin pulled back and punched Arthur in the face, because come on. He thought he was pretty entitled to that.