[FIC] Sobering Realisations (Arthur/Merlin; PG-13)
Author: nyargles
Title: Sobering Realisations
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Arthur and Merlin always have sex when they get drunk. They never talk about it - or even acknowledge it - when they're sober. Arthur can't help but wonder why - until he tries to bring it up and realizes that Merlin never remembers it happening. He is both crushed and filled with guilt, and tries to distance himself from Merlin. Merlin is hurt and angry but determined to find out what's really wrong.
Warnings (if any): None
Total word count: 2,900
Original prompt number: 14 - Submitted by dreamdustmama
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC and Shine TV. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's/artist's notes (if any): Fluff overdose may kill? Dear prompter, I'm sorry if this wasn't as intense as you were hoping for, but the angst just wasn't coming out too strong. Also, I'm not used to writing from Arthur's POV, so I'm sorry if it feels like you weren't getting any of Merlin's feelings at all. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!
Beta(s): Lots of cuddles and thanks to Sirell, who surely received more texts than your phone could cope with.
He had been caught again. Arthur turned his head resolutely to stare out of the window, as if the courtyard demanded his absolute expression. In his head, he could imagine the bemused expression that Merlin would be giving him, and he let his eyes refocus onto the reflection of the glass only to see Merlin pulling the exact expression as the one in his head.
"Arthur, what is it?" Merlin huffed with annoyance, scrubbing his armour with rather more vigour than strictly necessary. "You keep looking at me when you think I'm not looking." Arthur had been sneaking glances at Merlin all morning, trying to gauge his thoughts on the night before: no luck. He had been hoping to judge as to whether it was better to talk about last night with Merlin, or keep silent as with the few other times it had happened. Unfortunately, Merlin seemed perfectly willing to act as if nothing had occurred at all.
Perhaps, Arthur thought as he watched a cart being unloaded in the courtyard below, perhaps the awkwardness only existed in his mind and Merlin was completely content to leave things as they were. He attempted to school his voice into a bored tone. "I do?"
"Yes! You do!" Merlin waved his polishing rag with emphasis. "What is it? Did I do something stupid last night when I was drunk?" There had been a feast celebrating the bountiful harvest last night, and there had been a tad too much mead all over the place. "I didn't try to sit on the throne again, did I?" Merlin sounded aghast and worried, his eyes shifting to the door as if Uther might storm in to demand recompense for such audacity.
Arthur was glad that he was looking away. Though he often had difficulty in expressing his feelings, his confusion and hurt washed over his face before he had a chance to curb it, and Merlin was irritatingly sharp when it came to judging his moods. "Of course not," he replied lightly. "Apart from the usual wailing you like to call singing." There had been singing, at first. Arthur had even joined in for a bit.
"Oh, good," Merlin's face relaxed, though he still watched Arthur. In turn, Arthur was discreetly watching Merlin's reflection, and quickly deciding on the most subtle way of putting it.
Turning around, Arthur snagged an apple off the table and bit into it, delaying his question. "Is not remembering what you did a usual occurrence after a feast?" There was the possibility that Merlin had forgot everything about the night before, but Arthur desperately hoped that it wasn't true, not when his memories of it all were so vivid.
Merlin frowned as he thought about it. "Sometimes when I've had a lot?"He grinned. "I can't have done anything I'd regret though, since I wake up with the feeling I've had a good night." Arthur went back to staring out of the window, struggling not to shake Merlin and demand that he remember everything. Apple juice dribbled waveringly down his hand.
"I don't suppose why that surprises me," Arthur said somewhat more sharply than he had intended, words coming out forcefully around the massive lump that seemed to be weighing down his heart, "when you can't remember what to do half the time when you're sober."
-
Arthur sank into his hot bath with a sigh. He had sent Merlin packing away with other trivial chores for now, and relished the time to unravel his jumble of thoughts. After their conversation that afternoon, Arthur had busied himself with council meetings, patrol and training in an attempt to quash the trickle of thoughts that seemed to seep into whatever he was thinking about.
Letting the hot water wash over his body, Arthur reached a hand behind him, trailing down his own back to lightly finger around his hole. It still ached a bit from when Merlin had enthusiastically thrust into him, stretching and filling him. Arthur shivered a bit, though the water was plenty hot enough, and felt a sort of numbness spread across him. He swallowed, knowing what he was doing - behind the numbness there was a myriad of feeling that he didn't want to put names to. He would handle them the same way he did whenever he felt too out of his depth, too out of control: block it out in the hopes that they would go away.
Pulling his hand away, Arthur sighed, and shook his head. This wasn't something that he could just ignore. He had told himself to ignore it for the last two other times now, since Merlin seemed to be. Merlin hadn't remembered any of the times they had tumbled, drunk off their faces, into Arthur's bed and ended up a mess of half-removed clothing, pawing at each other's bodies though, and now Arthur knew this, it wasn't something that would just go away.
Even though they had been two willing adults at the time, now Arthur felt as if he was somehow deceiving Merlin into it. Arthur brushed his hand against his soft cock, thinking of Merlin, his hair even more tousled than usual and his pale skin easy to spot in the dimness of his room. He had sprawled back on his pillows and told Merlin to pleasure him - and Merlin had. Merlin was everything that Arthur wanted in a lover, and more. Arthur liked that Merlin was able to tell him his real thoughts instead of toadying to him all the time. He liked how Merlin did what he thought best for Arthur even if it wasn't always what Arthur thought was best. And he was enthusiastic and fantastic in bed.
Pausing, Arthur let his hand fall limply against his thigh, his lust for Merlin soured by the knowledge that Merlin hadn't remembered any of it: he didn't even know if Merlin had liked it. It wasn't fair for him to want these sorts of things from Merlin when Merlin didn't know that they had even had sex at all. Merlin must not be interested, since he had never shown any of these sorts of wants around Arthur apart from when drunk.
Arthur shook himself. No, a relaxing soak in the tub wasn't what he wanted at the moment; it felt too much like wallowing in his own guilt. He scrubbed himself thoroughly, enjoying the sharp tingle as his fingernails dragged through his hair and the harsh rub of his towel scratching across his skin. He felt scoured clean, and breathed, letting the cold air ripple over his damp skin. He had decided what to do: he would not ask Merlin about it, since he didn't want to pressure Merlin into thinking that he had to do anything like that with Arthur, and it would stop.
"You're done already?" Merlin's voice interrupted Arthur's thoughts, and he craned around his screen, tugging his night trousers up. "Was the water too cold?" Arthur made a face: Merlin knew him so well that he even knew that Arthur liked to stay in the bath until the water was almost lukewarm.
"It was fine," Arthur rubbed the towel through his hair. "Are you finished already? You must have rushed through all that." He narrowed his eyes at Merlin. "Go and finish it properly."
Merlin frowned at Arthur - he must have thought that getting his work done quickly would have pleased Arthur, never knowing that it was Arthur's intention to keep him away for a while. He stalked out of the room again, the door banging behind him. Guilt filled Arthur again. He really shouldn't doubt Merlin's work - for all that he complained about it, he couldn't say that he was dissatisfied with how well Merlin did his work once he ever got around to doing it. Arthur tipped his head against the wall, feeling the cool, rough stone against his forehead. Once again, he had handled a simple situation ham-handedly.
-
Arthur was running out of things for Merlin to do. Aside from his usually run of chores, he had been sending Merlin on little errands that didn't really matter, such as whether the cook remembered that Arthur didn't like pears (she did), if the smithies were planning to make him a new mace despite his old one being in perfect shape (they weren't) or if his new tunic due to be finished in three days' time had been finished yet (it hadn't). Merlin had been looking at him less in confusion and far more in breathless irritation for the last week.
"Arthur!" Merlin popped up right in the centre of Arthur's field of vision, and he toppled backwards off the chair he'd been leaning back on. Merlin was looking distinctly hassled now.
Arthur clutched at his chest as he got back up. For someone who was trying to avoid Merlin, he was surely doing a very bad job of detecting when he was actually around. "What?!" Arthur barked, cheeks red from embarrassment. "Have you checked that my horse's hooves don't have any stones in yet?" He reckoned that was what he had sent Merlin off to do this time.
"I am not checking if your horse has any invisible stones in its hooves," Merlin said flatly, arms crossed and stepping forwards, invading Arthur's personal space.
Arthur took a step backwards before he could react to Merlin being so close and yet unable to be touched, and scowled. "But-"
"Your horse is fine," snarled Merlin. "What is wrong with you?!"
Arthur blinked. "You can't speak to me like that, Merlin." The words dropped out as they had always done and, as always, Merlin ignored him. "There's nothing wrong with me. What makes you think that there's something wrong with me?" In hindsight, Arthur reckoned that he shouldn't have sounded so defensive. It definitely made him sound worse.
With a huff, Merlin drew up a chair without permission to sit. "Maybe," he started testily, "because you're making up pointless chores for me to do like you're a paranoid old man who's incapable of doing anything themselves but doesn't trust anyone to do their job. And maybe it's because you sound like a guilty man." The sarcasm dripped off Merlin in invisible puddles. Arthur winced.
Opening his mouth and searching for the right words, Arthur had no change to say anything before Merlin started again, this time in a much more gentle tone. "Please, Arthur, tell me what it is." He looked surprisingly shaken; Arthur hadn't noticed it behind the anger at all. "You've been acting strange since I told you I didn't remember what happened when I was drunk, so what is it? What did I do?" He was ashen, and Arthur realised that he was genuinely scared that he had done something outrageous to turn Arthur into a raving old man.
"It's not that." Arthur attempted a smile, and it just felt as if his skin was stretching in unfamiliar ways. He stood and walked over to Merlin, breathing as slowly as he could as if that would help his pounding heart. "You didn't do anything bad." He didn't know how to say it, or whether he should say it at all, and it was as if he'd lost the ability to make elaborate sentences.
Arthur leaned on the table in front of Merlin. "Don't you ever wonder what happens during that bit you can't remember?" He asked, struggling not to let it all burst out at once.
Merlin frowned. "Of course. But as long as I didn't do anything completely stupid, it's fine."
Swallowing, Arthur continued. "Don't you ever wonder why you always wake up in my chambers?" His voice trembled: this was already part of those things he kept tightly under control in his mind, and he hadn't even thought about it himself.
"I thought I helped you to your rooms and then was too drunk to get back to mine." Merlin stared at Arthur, wide-eyed. "If you had a problem with that, you should have said!"
Arthur shook his head. "I don't have a problem with that," he said quietly. He cleared his throat. "I'd like you to know that whatever your reaction is, I'm not pressuring you to do anything about it, and you will still have a place in the royal household if you so desire." He drew himself up automatically as the formal words came out. That was right: he wanted Merlin to be able to react however he liked.
The confused expression had returned to Merlin's face. "I don't understand, Arthur." He looked like he wanted to say more, so very much more, but Arthur held up his hand. He had managed to gather the courage to say what he wanted to say to Merlin now, and he had better say it before it leaked away again.
"When we get drunk, we don't exactly use my bed for sleeping in." Arthur swallowed. There was a long pause, and Arthur quickly stumbled to fill the silence as Merlin gaped at him. "It's not a bad thing, I enjoyed... it. But if you don't think it's something... well, what you want, then obviously I don't... If it was just the drink, that's fine, and... it was good." Arthur's head reeled from the incoherent mess he had made of himself. He cleared his throat again, and stood up on wobbly legs. "Well, I'll just go and visit Morgana, I think," he said shakily, keeping himself together just enough to walk towards the door.
"Wait!" Merlin's voice was frantic as he grabbed Arthur by the arm, spinning him around. Merlin's face was so very close to his as Merlin stared into his eyes, brow furrowed as he searched for something in Arthur's face. Merlin swallowed, and Arthur saw the adam's apple bob prominently in his throat. "We slept together," Merlin stated. Arthur nodded, an awkward dip of his head. "We slept together and we... did it," Merlin clarified using the most unclear diction possible. Arthur nodded again, slowly. He was frozen in place, not daring to pull away. Merlin wasn't upset at him yet; he wasn't shouting or disgusted. Arthur didn't want to move in case that made it all sink in for Merlin.
Arthur stared uneasily directly in front of him, and blinked in shock as suddenly his head was resting on Merlin's shoulder. Merlin's arms were tight around Arthur's body as he pulled Arthur forwards. Arthur could feel the warmth of Merlin's chest against his own, and the puff of air from Merlin's breathing against his ear. They stayed like that for a long moment before Merlin's arms loosened. Arthur looked up to see Merlin's face, which was red and blotchy.
"I can't believe we slept together and I don't remember it," Merlin mumbled furiously at himself, laughing a little shakily at the same time. He bit his lip. "I mean, you said that you liked it, didn't you? And that it wasn't a bad thing?" The little lilt of hope in Merlin's voice was all that was needed for Arthur's heart to suddenly flutter with a seed of excitement.
Arthur nodded. "It was good." He tentatively pressed a hand to Merlin's waist and just laid it there. Merlin's face was always open, and he could see the delight in his face as he grinned.
"I can't believe I got to sleep with you and I don't remember," Merlin repeated ruefully, face heated with embarrassment. "I'm sorry." He paused, and added even more softly, "I'm sorry." Arthur understood: it was two separate apologies, the second for all those silent things that they hadn't talked about yet but would probably do so in the near future, like Arthur's guilt, and his panic that perhaps he had forced Merlin into it.
Perhaps they were both equally incompetent at expressing themselves in different ways, reflected Arthur as he let his other arm slide around Merlin slowly. Merlin leaned into Arthur with a soft blush now, pressing his hands shyly on Arthur's chest. Arthur was close enough to see Merlin's eyes, wide and hopeful and eager.
Arthur swallowed thickly. "Why don't we..." he tailed off gruffly, and Merlin laughed, a chime of his normal, joyous laughter, and suddenly Arthur felt much less nervous. It was just Merlin, who knew him inside out and stuck around even when he was an absolute grouch: what need was there to be nervous?
"Yes please," Merlin smiled at him, all dimples and lips, before pouting. "You have a head-start on me; I don't have any recollection of doing this at all." He dipped his head though, pausing for just a moment before pressing his lips to Arthur's.
The kiss was gentle and exploratory, hopeful and teasing for more. Arthur raised a hand, tracing his thumb over Merlin's cheekbone. "I can't believe I didn't bring this up earlier," he said, "if it was going to be this easy."
Merlin snorted. "I did say that I always had a good feeling about it the morning afterwards. I have high expectations." He made a more serious expression. "It'll be like my first time with you." Arthur pulled a face, and then leaned in for another kiss.
They made their way to the bed, lying down in it but not in a rush. Arthur was content for now to let all his worries slowly drain away from him and take in the sight of Merlin. "It's like the first time for both of us," he said firmly.
Title: Sobering Realisations
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Arthur and Merlin always have sex when they get drunk. They never talk about it - or even acknowledge it - when they're sober. Arthur can't help but wonder why - until he tries to bring it up and realizes that Merlin never remembers it happening. He is both crushed and filled with guilt, and tries to distance himself from Merlin. Merlin is hurt and angry but determined to find out what's really wrong.
Warnings (if any): None
Total word count: 2,900
Original prompt number: 14 - Submitted by dreamdustmama
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC and Shine TV. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's/artist's notes (if any): Fluff overdose may kill? Dear prompter, I'm sorry if this wasn't as intense as you were hoping for, but the angst just wasn't coming out too strong. Also, I'm not used to writing from Arthur's POV, so I'm sorry if it feels like you weren't getting any of Merlin's feelings at all. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!
Beta(s): Lots of cuddles and thanks to Sirell, who surely received more texts than your phone could cope with.
He had been caught again. Arthur turned his head resolutely to stare out of the window, as if the courtyard demanded his absolute expression. In his head, he could imagine the bemused expression that Merlin would be giving him, and he let his eyes refocus onto the reflection of the glass only to see Merlin pulling the exact expression as the one in his head.
"Arthur, what is it?" Merlin huffed with annoyance, scrubbing his armour with rather more vigour than strictly necessary. "You keep looking at me when you think I'm not looking." Arthur had been sneaking glances at Merlin all morning, trying to gauge his thoughts on the night before: no luck. He had been hoping to judge as to whether it was better to talk about last night with Merlin, or keep silent as with the few other times it had happened. Unfortunately, Merlin seemed perfectly willing to act as if nothing had occurred at all.
Perhaps, Arthur thought as he watched a cart being unloaded in the courtyard below, perhaps the awkwardness only existed in his mind and Merlin was completely content to leave things as they were. He attempted to school his voice into a bored tone. "I do?"
"Yes! You do!" Merlin waved his polishing rag with emphasis. "What is it? Did I do something stupid last night when I was drunk?" There had been a feast celebrating the bountiful harvest last night, and there had been a tad too much mead all over the place. "I didn't try to sit on the throne again, did I?" Merlin sounded aghast and worried, his eyes shifting to the door as if Uther might storm in to demand recompense for such audacity.
Arthur was glad that he was looking away. Though he often had difficulty in expressing his feelings, his confusion and hurt washed over his face before he had a chance to curb it, and Merlin was irritatingly sharp when it came to judging his moods. "Of course not," he replied lightly. "Apart from the usual wailing you like to call singing." There had been singing, at first. Arthur had even joined in for a bit.
"Oh, good," Merlin's face relaxed, though he still watched Arthur. In turn, Arthur was discreetly watching Merlin's reflection, and quickly deciding on the most subtle way of putting it.
Turning around, Arthur snagged an apple off the table and bit into it, delaying his question. "Is not remembering what you did a usual occurrence after a feast?" There was the possibility that Merlin had forgot everything about the night before, but Arthur desperately hoped that it wasn't true, not when his memories of it all were so vivid.
Merlin frowned as he thought about it. "Sometimes when I've had a lot?"He grinned. "I can't have done anything I'd regret though, since I wake up with the feeling I've had a good night." Arthur went back to staring out of the window, struggling not to shake Merlin and demand that he remember everything. Apple juice dribbled waveringly down his hand.
"I don't suppose why that surprises me," Arthur said somewhat more sharply than he had intended, words coming out forcefully around the massive lump that seemed to be weighing down his heart, "when you can't remember what to do half the time when you're sober."
-
Arthur sank into his hot bath with a sigh. He had sent Merlin packing away with other trivial chores for now, and relished the time to unravel his jumble of thoughts. After their conversation that afternoon, Arthur had busied himself with council meetings, patrol and training in an attempt to quash the trickle of thoughts that seemed to seep into whatever he was thinking about.
Letting the hot water wash over his body, Arthur reached a hand behind him, trailing down his own back to lightly finger around his hole. It still ached a bit from when Merlin had enthusiastically thrust into him, stretching and filling him. Arthur shivered a bit, though the water was plenty hot enough, and felt a sort of numbness spread across him. He swallowed, knowing what he was doing - behind the numbness there was a myriad of feeling that he didn't want to put names to. He would handle them the same way he did whenever he felt too out of his depth, too out of control: block it out in the hopes that they would go away.
Pulling his hand away, Arthur sighed, and shook his head. This wasn't something that he could just ignore. He had told himself to ignore it for the last two other times now, since Merlin seemed to be. Merlin hadn't remembered any of the times they had tumbled, drunk off their faces, into Arthur's bed and ended up a mess of half-removed clothing, pawing at each other's bodies though, and now Arthur knew this, it wasn't something that would just go away.
Even though they had been two willing adults at the time, now Arthur felt as if he was somehow deceiving Merlin into it. Arthur brushed his hand against his soft cock, thinking of Merlin, his hair even more tousled than usual and his pale skin easy to spot in the dimness of his room. He had sprawled back on his pillows and told Merlin to pleasure him - and Merlin had. Merlin was everything that Arthur wanted in a lover, and more. Arthur liked that Merlin was able to tell him his real thoughts instead of toadying to him all the time. He liked how Merlin did what he thought best for Arthur even if it wasn't always what Arthur thought was best. And he was enthusiastic and fantastic in bed.
Pausing, Arthur let his hand fall limply against his thigh, his lust for Merlin soured by the knowledge that Merlin hadn't remembered any of it: he didn't even know if Merlin had liked it. It wasn't fair for him to want these sorts of things from Merlin when Merlin didn't know that they had even had sex at all. Merlin must not be interested, since he had never shown any of these sorts of wants around Arthur apart from when drunk.
Arthur shook himself. No, a relaxing soak in the tub wasn't what he wanted at the moment; it felt too much like wallowing in his own guilt. He scrubbed himself thoroughly, enjoying the sharp tingle as his fingernails dragged through his hair and the harsh rub of his towel scratching across his skin. He felt scoured clean, and breathed, letting the cold air ripple over his damp skin. He had decided what to do: he would not ask Merlin about it, since he didn't want to pressure Merlin into thinking that he had to do anything like that with Arthur, and it would stop.
"You're done already?" Merlin's voice interrupted Arthur's thoughts, and he craned around his screen, tugging his night trousers up. "Was the water too cold?" Arthur made a face: Merlin knew him so well that he even knew that Arthur liked to stay in the bath until the water was almost lukewarm.
"It was fine," Arthur rubbed the towel through his hair. "Are you finished already? You must have rushed through all that." He narrowed his eyes at Merlin. "Go and finish it properly."
Merlin frowned at Arthur - he must have thought that getting his work done quickly would have pleased Arthur, never knowing that it was Arthur's intention to keep him away for a while. He stalked out of the room again, the door banging behind him. Guilt filled Arthur again. He really shouldn't doubt Merlin's work - for all that he complained about it, he couldn't say that he was dissatisfied with how well Merlin did his work once he ever got around to doing it. Arthur tipped his head against the wall, feeling the cool, rough stone against his forehead. Once again, he had handled a simple situation ham-handedly.
-
Arthur was running out of things for Merlin to do. Aside from his usually run of chores, he had been sending Merlin on little errands that didn't really matter, such as whether the cook remembered that Arthur didn't like pears (she did), if the smithies were planning to make him a new mace despite his old one being in perfect shape (they weren't) or if his new tunic due to be finished in three days' time had been finished yet (it hadn't). Merlin had been looking at him less in confusion and far more in breathless irritation for the last week.
"Arthur!" Merlin popped up right in the centre of Arthur's field of vision, and he toppled backwards off the chair he'd been leaning back on. Merlin was looking distinctly hassled now.
Arthur clutched at his chest as he got back up. For someone who was trying to avoid Merlin, he was surely doing a very bad job of detecting when he was actually around. "What?!" Arthur barked, cheeks red from embarrassment. "Have you checked that my horse's hooves don't have any stones in yet?" He reckoned that was what he had sent Merlin off to do this time.
"I am not checking if your horse has any invisible stones in its hooves," Merlin said flatly, arms crossed and stepping forwards, invading Arthur's personal space.
Arthur took a step backwards before he could react to Merlin being so close and yet unable to be touched, and scowled. "But-"
"Your horse is fine," snarled Merlin. "What is wrong with you?!"
Arthur blinked. "You can't speak to me like that, Merlin." The words dropped out as they had always done and, as always, Merlin ignored him. "There's nothing wrong with me. What makes you think that there's something wrong with me?" In hindsight, Arthur reckoned that he shouldn't have sounded so defensive. It definitely made him sound worse.
With a huff, Merlin drew up a chair without permission to sit. "Maybe," he started testily, "because you're making up pointless chores for me to do like you're a paranoid old man who's incapable of doing anything themselves but doesn't trust anyone to do their job. And maybe it's because you sound like a guilty man." The sarcasm dripped off Merlin in invisible puddles. Arthur winced.
Opening his mouth and searching for the right words, Arthur had no change to say anything before Merlin started again, this time in a much more gentle tone. "Please, Arthur, tell me what it is." He looked surprisingly shaken; Arthur hadn't noticed it behind the anger at all. "You've been acting strange since I told you I didn't remember what happened when I was drunk, so what is it? What did I do?" He was ashen, and Arthur realised that he was genuinely scared that he had done something outrageous to turn Arthur into a raving old man.
"It's not that." Arthur attempted a smile, and it just felt as if his skin was stretching in unfamiliar ways. He stood and walked over to Merlin, breathing as slowly as he could as if that would help his pounding heart. "You didn't do anything bad." He didn't know how to say it, or whether he should say it at all, and it was as if he'd lost the ability to make elaborate sentences.
Arthur leaned on the table in front of Merlin. "Don't you ever wonder what happens during that bit you can't remember?" He asked, struggling not to let it all burst out at once.
Merlin frowned. "Of course. But as long as I didn't do anything completely stupid, it's fine."
Swallowing, Arthur continued. "Don't you ever wonder why you always wake up in my chambers?" His voice trembled: this was already part of those things he kept tightly under control in his mind, and he hadn't even thought about it himself.
"I thought I helped you to your rooms and then was too drunk to get back to mine." Merlin stared at Arthur, wide-eyed. "If you had a problem with that, you should have said!"
Arthur shook his head. "I don't have a problem with that," he said quietly. He cleared his throat. "I'd like you to know that whatever your reaction is, I'm not pressuring you to do anything about it, and you will still have a place in the royal household if you so desire." He drew himself up automatically as the formal words came out. That was right: he wanted Merlin to be able to react however he liked.
The confused expression had returned to Merlin's face. "I don't understand, Arthur." He looked like he wanted to say more, so very much more, but Arthur held up his hand. He had managed to gather the courage to say what he wanted to say to Merlin now, and he had better say it before it leaked away again.
"When we get drunk, we don't exactly use my bed for sleeping in." Arthur swallowed. There was a long pause, and Arthur quickly stumbled to fill the silence as Merlin gaped at him. "It's not a bad thing, I enjoyed... it. But if you don't think it's something... well, what you want, then obviously I don't... If it was just the drink, that's fine, and... it was good." Arthur's head reeled from the incoherent mess he had made of himself. He cleared his throat again, and stood up on wobbly legs. "Well, I'll just go and visit Morgana, I think," he said shakily, keeping himself together just enough to walk towards the door.
"Wait!" Merlin's voice was frantic as he grabbed Arthur by the arm, spinning him around. Merlin's face was so very close to his as Merlin stared into his eyes, brow furrowed as he searched for something in Arthur's face. Merlin swallowed, and Arthur saw the adam's apple bob prominently in his throat. "We slept together," Merlin stated. Arthur nodded, an awkward dip of his head. "We slept together and we... did it," Merlin clarified using the most unclear diction possible. Arthur nodded again, slowly. He was frozen in place, not daring to pull away. Merlin wasn't upset at him yet; he wasn't shouting or disgusted. Arthur didn't want to move in case that made it all sink in for Merlin.
Arthur stared uneasily directly in front of him, and blinked in shock as suddenly his head was resting on Merlin's shoulder. Merlin's arms were tight around Arthur's body as he pulled Arthur forwards. Arthur could feel the warmth of Merlin's chest against his own, and the puff of air from Merlin's breathing against his ear. They stayed like that for a long moment before Merlin's arms loosened. Arthur looked up to see Merlin's face, which was red and blotchy.
"I can't believe we slept together and I don't remember it," Merlin mumbled furiously at himself, laughing a little shakily at the same time. He bit his lip. "I mean, you said that you liked it, didn't you? And that it wasn't a bad thing?" The little lilt of hope in Merlin's voice was all that was needed for Arthur's heart to suddenly flutter with a seed of excitement.
Arthur nodded. "It was good." He tentatively pressed a hand to Merlin's waist and just laid it there. Merlin's face was always open, and he could see the delight in his face as he grinned.
"I can't believe I got to sleep with you and I don't remember," Merlin repeated ruefully, face heated with embarrassment. "I'm sorry." He paused, and added even more softly, "I'm sorry." Arthur understood: it was two separate apologies, the second for all those silent things that they hadn't talked about yet but would probably do so in the near future, like Arthur's guilt, and his panic that perhaps he had forced Merlin into it.
Perhaps they were both equally incompetent at expressing themselves in different ways, reflected Arthur as he let his other arm slide around Merlin slowly. Merlin leaned into Arthur with a soft blush now, pressing his hands shyly on Arthur's chest. Arthur was close enough to see Merlin's eyes, wide and hopeful and eager.
Arthur swallowed thickly. "Why don't we..." he tailed off gruffly, and Merlin laughed, a chime of his normal, joyous laughter, and suddenly Arthur felt much less nervous. It was just Merlin, who knew him inside out and stuck around even when he was an absolute grouch: what need was there to be nervous?
"Yes please," Merlin smiled at him, all dimples and lips, before pouting. "You have a head-start on me; I don't have any recollection of doing this at all." He dipped his head though, pausing for just a moment before pressing his lips to Arthur's.
The kiss was gentle and exploratory, hopeful and teasing for more. Arthur raised a hand, tracing his thumb over Merlin's cheekbone. "I can't believe I didn't bring this up earlier," he said, "if it was going to be this easy."
Merlin snorted. "I did say that I always had a good feeling about it the morning afterwards. I have high expectations." He made a more serious expression. "It'll be like my first time with you." Arthur pulled a face, and then leaned in for another kiss.
They made their way to the bed, lying down in it but not in a rush. Arthur was content for now to let all his worries slowly drain away from him and take in the sight of Merlin. "It's like the first time for both of us," he said firmly.