Kink Me! #4
Kink Me! #4 Closed to new prompts Welcome to Kink Me! Merlin #4!
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It doesn't seem like any time at all until it's the last day of term, and they're heading out of the school gate with Morgana, Elena and a couple of their friends. Arthur is dreading the holidays; he still doesn't see Merlin much at school, but he's grown used to him being there. It's only now, that it's about to be taken away, that he realises exactly how much his presence has come to mean to him.
'What are you doing for New Years?' Arthur asks, as they fall back, momentarily, from the others.
'Nothing, probably,' Merlin says, and they walk along side by side, elbows almost touching. 'What about you?'
Elena who is, Arthur always thinks, much more stable on a horse, leans back and nearly goes flying in her effort to join their conversation. 'Why don't you come to the village hall with us, if you've got nothing better to do?' she says, slipping between him and Merlin, and linking arms with both of them. 'It's not the most exciting thing in the world, but Arthur gets to take me every year.'
'Elena's your date?' Merlin asks, unlinking his arm, and looking at Arthur with a little frown creasing his forehead.
'No,' says Arthur at the same time as Elena says: 'Yes,' and lets out a little giggle.
Arthur opens his mouth to explain, but before he can get anywhere Merlin takes a step back, hitching his school bag firmly across his shoulder.
'Oh,' says Merlin. 'I didn't realise. Well, okay. I'd better be going now, I suppose.'
'It'll be nice if Merlin tags along too, won't it?' says Elena. 'It's not like we're on a real date or anything, is it?'
Arthur rolls his eyes; he's known Elena from when they were babies, and she's always been oblivious to most of what goes on around her. As he watches Merlin practically fly off down the road, part of him is desperate to follow, but it's quickly overruled by another, more familiar part of him that always wins when he's unsure or hesitant. You've already drawn enough attention to yourself, the other voice says, and, reluctantly, he turns his attention back to Elena.
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New Year's Eve is unremarkable, and Arthur and Elena leave the village hall shortly after midnight. Elena has an early start at the stables and is keen to make a move. Arthur, who has spent most of the night watching the door in case Merlin decides to show, has no wish to stay any longer than absolutely necessary.
He drives Elena straight back to the Godwyn's, and once he sees that she's safely indoors, he goes for a drive. He's managed to keep this sliver of time after their not-quite-dates to himself for a while now. Uther thinks he knows what Arthur and Elena are doing, so he rarely questions him over little lateness here and there, and Arthur makes sure he's never so long gone that Uther's suspicion is aroused.
Usually, Arthur drives until he finds somewhere quiet, and sits there, soaking up the silence and the few precious minutes where he can just feel like him, and not the person he needs to be for everybody else. It's a pressure that he doesn't often get to relieve himself of, and he has mixed feelings about these times, needing the freedom and the solitude, but dreading the inevitable point where he has to put his key back into the ignition and head home.
Tonight, he finds himself outside Gaius' cottage. It's stupid, he knows, but he can't really think of where else he'd rather be. The light's on inside, and before he has time to overthink it, he gets out of the car, walks up the path and knocks at the door.
Merlin answers, yawning. He blinks a couple of times and tries, unsuccessfully, to smooth out his ruffled hair.
'Arthur?' he says, his smile a touch more uncertain than Arthur had hoped for.
'Sorry,' Arthur says. 'I woke you up. I should go.'
'No, no, come in,' says Merlin, pulling him into the cottage by both hands. 'I just drifted off for a few minutes. Gaius is still out, doing whatever it is he does; I was just about to make some tea.'
'Love to,' says Arthur, and when Merlin smiles back at him, he's almost convinced himself that showing up, unannounced, in the middle of the night, isn't such a rash move after all.
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aah jkjkjk! that's just my brain taking me there haha. i am adoring this so far what with the little misunderstanding and merlin being all comforting to arthur. looking forward to more!
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Feeling faintly absurd in his tuxedo, Arthur clears a space on the long bench beside the kitchen table and watches Merlin as he drifts around, plucking cups and spoons from the chaos. It strikes him, suddenly, that he would never do something like this at home. He and Uther rarely have time for casual conversation, and when they do, he always makes sure Arthur isn't at a loose end for long.
'Here,' says Merlin, setting a cup down in front of him. He moves a stack of medical journals to the floor, clearing a space to sit alongside Arthur, their thighs brushing briefly as he settles in, one leg folded under itself. 'So,' he says, his eye briefly darting up to meet Arthur's. 'Good night?'
'Merlin,' Arthur says. 'About Elena ...'
'You don't need to explain how it is,' Merlin says, looking studiously at his tea, his fingers curled tightly around the cup.
'But there isn't anything to explain,' Arthur says. 'There's nothing between me and Elena. It's just ... we've always gone to these things together. It's easier that way.'
'Oh,' Merlin says. 'Easier, how?'
Easier than pretending with someone who isn't in on it, Arthur thinks. A lot fucking easier than taking someone I actually want to go with.
What he actually says is: 'It's no big deal, Merlin. It keeps our fathers off our backs.'
'I see.' Merlin presses his lips together, his tea still, apparently, the most interesting thing he's ever seen. 'Well, as pleased as I am that both your fathers are happy, if it's not a big deal, I don't know why you needed to tell me right now.'
Arthur thinks he's used to Merlin's frankness but he realises, as the words leave his mouth, that the one subject that has never come under the full force of his scrutiny is Arthur himself. It's unexpected, this sudden prodding, like an invasion, and he blusters a bit, unsure of where this is going. He settles for a nudge to Merlin's ribs - familiar ground - and a grin, though it's probably far too weak. 'It's your fault, anyway,' Arthur says. 'You were the one acting weird about Elena and me at the end of term.'
'Oh, right,' says Merlin. He sets his cup down and gives Arthur a wide, sceptical grin. 'So: just so I've got this bit right - you and Elena pretend to date though you have absolutely no interest in each other, yet I'm the one with the weird behaviour?'
'Fuck it, Merlin, you were acting strange,' Arthur says. He doesn't mean to snap but he can feel himself losing what little control he has of the conversation.
'No, I wasn't,' says Merlin. There's something defiant about the way he's looking at Arthur that's at odds with his voice, which sounds strained and raw.
'Come on,' Arthur says. It's probably the wrong thing to do, but he chances a light, friendly punch on the arm anyway. 'You were. It's not as if you wanted me as your date, is it? That would have been ridiculous.'
'Completely,' says Merlin, half to himself. 'I'd have to be mad to want a thing like that.'
'Yeah, insane,' says Arthur, relieved that Merlin is joking around now. 'Thanks for making me think about us going as a couple, though,' he says, and Merlin, mid-sip, nearly chokes on his tea.
'Like you said,' Merlin says softly, when he's composed himself. 'Ridiculous.'
'So,' he says, all bravado now they're back onto something less personal, 'why were you so off with me, then? Come on Merlin, you're not normally one to hold back.'
Merlin looks away, and Arthur remembers that the last time he saw uncertainty on his face, was when he asked Merlin what he really thought about Reverend Aredian's sermon. This time, though, it's tinged with something more self-conscious. 'I'm sorry,' Merlin says, with a short laugh. 'Maybe I was a bit jealous. Not that I've any right to be, I know. It's just ... we're friends, and ... I know you, and I can see how unhappy it makes you when you pretend.'
'Pretend about what?' Arthur says, after a deep breath.
'You know what.' Merlin says, his voice getting quieter and quieter. 'You and Elena. It's all just for show. It's all just to hide that you're gay.'
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Arthur's mind starts to spin. They've danced around this before, but putting it into words is different. Now that it feels like there might be an alternative, he doesn't know if he does want to stop pretending, even just to one person. All he wants to do now, really, is leave; it's taking all his willpower not to stand up and end this conversation.
'Arthur,' Merlin says. He sounds like he's miles away. 'Arthur, you're shaking.'
'Am bloody not,' he says. But he is, and even though it feels as if Merlin might call him on his bullshit again, what he actually feels is an arm slip around him. When the silence is broken by a raw, choked back sob, it takes a second to realise that the sound has come from him.
Merlin pulls him closer, and Arthur leans against him, relaxing bit by bit until, finally, he lets his arm fall against Merlin's waist. He feels Merlin take a deep, shuddering breath and suddenly he's very aware of how close his lips are to Merlin's neck, and how his hand, buried in the soft material of Merlin's t-shirt is only a handful of fibres away from warm, soft skin.
He knows that they shouldn't even be this close, but he lifts his head a fraction anyway, so his lips press against Merlin's neck. Merlin tenses at first, the play of muscles underneath his skin looks almost as if he's fighting something, but he doesn't push him away, not even when, emboldened by Merlin's unspoken encouragement, Arthur starts to move up the long column of his throat, tasting and inhaling the scent of the pale skin that he's only ever allowed himself to look at before.
'Arthur ... ' Merlin says. He's still breathing unsteadily. 'Are you sure this is a good idea?'
Arthur stops dead still; he can feel the heat creeping over his face already. 'You said you were jealous. I thought ...'
'Arthur?'
'Sorry,' says Arthur, standing up. 'Obviously, I've made a huge mistake. I should go.'
But before he can get away, Merlin grabs hold of his hands and pulls him back onto the bench. Now that they're facing each other again, he can see that although Merlin is nervous and maybe a little surprised, he doesn't seem horrified or disturbed or any of the other reactions Arthur was so ready to attribute to him seconds earlier.
'You haven't got anything wrong,' he says, rubbing his fingers over Arthur's rigid hands. 'Not if this is about me wanting you. But I can see how much you hate yourself sometimes, and I don't want to make it worse. I don't want you to do something you'll look back on and regret.'
'Oh, so you're a mind reader now?' Arthur says, forcing out a faintly bitter smile. 'Is there anything else I need to know about myself, or is that is for now?'
Merlin pauses, like he's trying to collect his thoughts. 'I've been through this,' he says. 'I was ready for how I was going to feel, but you're not. You still want to be what Uther wants you to be.'
'Hang on,' says Arthur, eyebrow raised. 'What do you mean you've been through this? Do you mean people know you're ...?'
'Gay?' says Merlin. 'You are allowed to say it, you know. And yes, my mum knows, and a few of my friends back home. What I'm saying is, it was a huge thing for me and I knew I had people to support me, people I could talk to. But it's not the same for you.'
'No, it's not,' Arthur says. 'But you're here aren't you?'
And then he remembers.
'Not forever,' says Merlin, and the little hitch in his voice makes Arthur ache.
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Merlin seems to understand that the last thing Arthur wants right now is comfort or sympathy or anything that will make him feel more raw than he already does. Instead, he gets up and goes to the kitchen, and returns with what appears to be a bottle of champagne.
'Gaius left it out earlier,' Merlin says, laughing at Arthur's bemused expression, and sets the bottle on the table as if the last five minutes haven't happened. 'For some reason I think he thought I might have somewhere to go, after all. Maybe we can, you know, toast your and Elena's fake relationship or something.'
'Idiot,' says Arthur, but he can't keep the fondness from his voice. 'Alright,' he says, 'but only because I want to see if you can open one of those things.'
Merlin laughs again and Arthur can't help being drawn to his neck again. He closes his eyes and focuses on convincing himself of the wisdom of Merlin's earlier words.
'You look a bit uncomfortable,' Merlin says, laying his fingers briefly over Arthur's hands, 'let's move,' and he heads back into the kitchen in search of some glasses.
Arthur wants to protest that he doesn't need looking after but he settles on rolling his eyes at Merlin's retreating figure before moving to the nearby couch. To his surprise, he hears a faint popping sound and then Merlin reappears, holding two mugs, looking triumphant. Even though there's more space now, he still sits down side by side with Arthur.
'It must be hard for you, living here,' Arthur says, setting his mug down on the table next to Merlin's. He doesn't really feel like drinking. 'What with the Reverend and everything.'
'It's not as if I could go anywhere else,' Merlin says. 'My Dad's been gone for years, and he didn't really have any family. Gaius is all mum has. Anyway,' he says, giving Arthur a quick, sidelong glance, 'it's not all bad.'
'Oh yeah?' Arthur says.
'Yeah,' says Merlin. 'There's this boy ...'
'Really, Merlin?' Arthur says, 'And does Gwaine know how you feel about him?'
He isn't expecting the cushion that connects, suddenly, with the side of his head, and the exasperated 'Shut up, Arthur,' that follows, but he reacts without thinking, and seconds later he has Merlin pressed into the couch, their faces only inches apart. They've been just as near to one another before but, Arthur realises, never this close.
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When Merlin looks up at him and licks his lips, Arthur nearly loses it. He bites down a moan, but it comes out anyway, a rough, strangled gasp. He knows he should shut his eyes or move away, anything to stop him wanting this so much, but he doesn't and finds himself staring into Merlin's questioning eyes.
'I want you,' Arthur says, and something in his stomach twists and aches at the blunt admission. He knows, theoretically, it should make sense, to hold back, but then Merlin shifts underneath him and he discovers, as his thigh presses against Merlin's groin, that he's not the only one having second thoughts.
'If you're waiting for me to make the first move, you'll be here a long time,' says Merlin.
'As if I'd make a move on you,' Arthur says, though he almost has to gasp the words out.
Merlin just smiles. His eyes are dark and pensive as he moves a hand to stroke through Arthur's hair, his fingers stopping just above the nape of his neck. There's no pressure to his hand, really, and it's not like Merlin's pushing him one way or another, but Arthur can't ignore his instinct a moment longer
He cups Merlin's cheek, he lets his thumb graze against the contours of his face, taking in the contrasting sensations of soft skin and light stubble, and then goes back to trace a haphazard line from his temple, swiping across a sharp cheekbone, and then back down along the line of his jaw.
Eventually, he reaches Merlin's mouth. His breath catches; he can't quite bring himself to believe that he's allowed to do this. Slowly, he traces over Merlin's lips, softly pressing his thumb against the fleshy plumpness. When Merlin runs his tongue over Arthur's thumb and sucks it briefly into his mouth, the sensation is almost too much to bear. He closes his eyes and lets himself feel how much he wants this and then finally, finally, he leans down and kisses him.
During the second or two it takes for Merlin to respond, the feeling of wanting to run comes back again, but it's gone as soon as Arthur feels Merlin's lips pushing back against his. His mouth opens to Arthur tantalisingly slowly, like he's drawing him into him piece by piece. It's another eternity before Arthur feels the tentative slide of Merlin's tongue, and then, his own, shy, answering stroke.
Only then does Arthur give himself permission to let go. After that it's as if time speeds up, and everything's frantic and intense and on the edge of too much. Merlin hitches his leg up around Arthur's waist, pulling him even closer but, possessed by a sudden need to see Merlin, Arthur leans back to look at him. He's very still, but a slow flush is creeping up his neck and his breath is coming faster, his lips parting slightly into a smile as he pulls Arthur back to him.
'Okay?' he whispers, his lips touching Arthur's as he speaks. Arthur kisses him again, briefly this time, and lays his head against Merlin's shoulder.
'Perfect,' he says, and kisses his again, briefly this time. He lays his head against Merlin's chest, wanting to listen for his heartbeat, and just as he's trying to remember the last time he felt this good, he's interrupted by the unmistakeable sound of a key in the front door.
'Shit,' Arthur says, on his feet in an instant.
'Gaius,' Merlin says, sitting up and stretching lazily. 'Don't worry, he won't say anything.'
Arthur wants to tell him that isn't the point, but at that moment the phone in his trouser pocket starts to vibrate; he knows who it is without having to look.
He moves back with as much regret as he's felt about anything, and straightens his shirt.
'Arthur?' Merlin says. 'It's okay, honestly.'
'It's not that,' Arthur says. 'It's Uther. I'm sorry, I have to go.'
Merlin presses a quick kiss to his lips, and Arthur slips out through the kitchen door, his mouth still tingling. As he drives back he realises that he still can't remember a time when he's felt better than this.
When he pulls into his own driveway and sees that Uther is still up, waiting for him, fear hits him like a punch to the guts, he can't remember feeling any worse.
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