The end
Author: bunnysworld
Title: The end
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur
Summary: Merlin is inconsolable over the end of his favourite TV-show
Warnings: Yet another cheesy one, modern AU, not sure if I need to warn for spoilers of 5x13, so I better do
Word Count: 2676
beta: Thanks to tambear13
Notes:: Not mine, not real, no copyright infringement intended, and all such.
Sorry for this one *hangs head in shame* Just had to work with all the feels.
Arthur didn’t know what to say. He’d only watched the show because the others really liked it and he knew it was a big deal for them that this would be the very last episode. When it finally ended, he knew he would miss their evenings in front of TV for this - as Percy and especially Merlin had always made events out of it - but it was nothing that would bother him for weeks, or even for hours.
Merlin had sniffled all day long and started to cry when the first notes of the title theme were heard. More than once he’d held out his hand to the TV, yelling ‘NO!’ and by the end of the show, with all of Merlin’s favorite characters dead, he’d just sat there, sobbing loudly, once in a while reaching for the tissue box that passed between Percy and him.
“What a stupid ending,” Gwaine grumbled and got up.
Percy shot him a look and then blew his nose noisily. “Yeah, they could have let the good-looking one live.”
Gwaine flipped his hair back and put a smooch on Percy’s forehead. “You’ve met him at the theatre since they were done shooting, he was alive and kicking. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s fine.”
Arthur got up and busied himself with collecting empty cups and bringing them to the kitchen. That Merlin hadn’t said a word yet and was still staring at the now-black TV screen, tears rolling down his face, worried him. He never understood the fascination with a show. A sports team, yes, that he could understand. When there was action and a team won or lost, that he could get into. But a TV show? A bit of acting, some special effects and a story? Nothing to get really worked up over.
But Merlin did. He had, in the past years, religiously followed the show, never missed an episode and managed to teach all their friends not to call when the show was on. He knew every actor and did everything to go places where they showed up. Lately, he even managed to get a photo with one of the lead actors, which was framed now and hung in Merlin’s room.
Once, Arthur had tried to figure out what it really was what Merlin was so fascinated about. He couldn’t understand how Merlin could all but fall in love with one of the lead guys. He didn’t even know him! In real life he was probably just an idiot who didn’t take the trash out and left the toilet seat up. The thing Arthur could understand was when Merlin talked about the friends he’d made through this. The people he kept meeting at the events and who he talked to online a lot. And he could understand when Merlin said it inspired his creativity and that he’d started writing fan fiction again. Arthur had not asked what specific kind of fan fiction, and no, he never wanted to read any of it, but it made Merlin happy, so that was fine by him.
That one night, when they went out after the show and had a few beers too many, Arthur had accused Merlin of losing his focus on the real world. That he was drooling over fantasy men on screen so much that he’d lost sight of what was around him.
Merlin had declared that he didn’t know of anyone in his surrounding who would be interested in him, so chances were slim that he overlooked a real person. So he wasn’t hurting anyone with his fascination and as long as he didn’t, it was totally okay.
Later, Arthur could have kicked himself for not admitting that yes, there was someone close to Merlin who liked him a lot more than just as a friend and that he felt so overlooked and that it wasn’t a nice feeling to hear how wonderful a certain actor was (or the character, depending on Merlin’s mood), always having to compare himself with those men. But he just couldn’t bring it over him to tell Merlin about his feelings. He wasn’t good at talking when it came to emotions. They were there, someone else noticed them, they acted on them, right? But Merlin never noticed and instead ran after people who never saw anything else but a simple fanboy in him.
So he’d taken to watch the show with Merlin and even he had to admit that there wasn’t a single not-good-looking person on screen. The plots usually made his skin crawl and more than once he’d groaned at bad dialogue but the scenery was nice and if only he let himself, he could get sucked into the world of castles, knights, magic and evil, too.
And emerge from it as soon as the end credits rolled.
When he came back from the kitchen, Merlin still sat in the same spot, not even wiping his nose any more. Just as he pondered how he could pull Merlin out of that state, Gwaine knelt in front of the couch.
“Merlin. Merls, honey, I know you love that show. I know it’s hard that it’s over now. But it’s just a TV show. Be happy for the good times it brought, for the friends you’ve made, for the crazy stuff you’ve done and move on. The actors already have, you should, too. And hey, now you might get to see them in even better stuff.”
As forward and cheeky as Gwaine could be, sometimes he just found the right words. But Merlin didn’t even react.
Sighing, Gwaine got up, ruffled Merlin’s hair and threw Arthur a look.
Maybe they just needed to let Merlin sit and mourn the loss of his favorite show and later they’d hear him typing away at his laptop, discussing every scene, every line, every emotion on the actors’ faces with his fandom friends.
Gwaine took it upon him to console Percy and they vanished into Percy’s room a while later.
When Arthur came back from the kitchen where he had put some dishes into the dishwasher and stood in front of the fridge for about ten minutes to see if it held something he might feel peckish for, Merlin was gone. That was a good sign, right? But as much as he listened, he didn’t hear the usual typing from Merlin’s room.
He made fresh tea and knocked at Merlin’s door. “Merlin?” he called softly, “care for some tea?”
But he didn’t get an answer, so he grabbed the book he’d started to read a few days back and got comfy on the couch.
About two hours later, the door opened and Merlin made his way to the bathroom.
Arthur had never seen him so upset. His heart broke when he saw the puffy eyes and the blotchy face, tears still running down Merlin’s face.
When Merlin came back, Arthur stepped in his way. He didn’t know what to say, so he just wrapped his arms around him and tried to pull him close.
“I don’t…,” Merlin sniffed, “I don’t need your pity.” He shoved at Arthur’s chest and freed himself, vanishing once again into his room.
Pity? Arthur didn’t pity him. He just hurt because Merlin hurt and he wanted to do everything in his might to make that hurt go away. Obviously he had gone wrong about it.
After a while, he grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and the Kleenex box that was still on the coffee table and carefully opened Merlin’s door. It was dark and quiet and for a moment Arthur thought that Merlin had fallen asleep. When he set the tissues and the bottle down carefully next to the bed, he noticed that Merlin was awake. Curled up on his side, staring ahead, tears still falling from his face.
Arthur reached out to wipe the tears away, but then pulled his hand back. He didn’t know what made him do it, but he kicked his shoes off and just climbed on the bed, wrapping his arm around Merlin, pulling him close. He was ready for being kicked out, but Merlin didn’t flinch.
What he wasn’t prepared for was Merlin snuggling close to him, digging his fists into his sweatshirt and starting sobbing in earnest again. Arthur wasn’t good with other people crying. He never knew what to say or to do. Some of his ex-girlfriends had called him a heartless arse for just standing by while they cried. And a crying bloke was a whole different story. So he did the only thing that came to his mind - hold on and let Merlin get it all out.
Arthur tried to focus on the smell of Merlin’s hair, on the way he was shaking in his arms, on the way it seemed Merlin tried to scoot even closer, but at some point he couldn’t ignore the wet patch on his sweatshirt any longer. He tried to convince himself that it were just Merlin’s tears, nothing else, while Merlin sniffled loudly. He reached for the Kleenex box and handed Merlin some tissues, which Merlin used noisily and dropped next to the bed. Arthur tried not to think about what it would look like in the morning.
After a while Merlin stopped sobbing, but tears were still streaking down his face as he calmed down a bit.
Not knowing what else he should do or if he should say anything, Arthur just rubbed soothing circles on Merlin’s back.
Merlin’s breathing evened out and Arthur thought he’d finally fallen asleep. He pondered getting up and leaving, but that didn’t seem fair. Just because Merlin had finally cried himself into exhaustion didn’t mean he was okay, right? And Arthur wanted to be there for him. Maybe Merlin would realize some time later that there was indeed a real bloke close who might be worth a try.
Even though his sweatshirt clung to his chest where Merlin had cried on it, it was nice to lie like this. Especially when Merlin snuffled into his neck. But then something wet made its way down Arthur’s neck and even though it were just more tears - at least Arthur hoped it was just tears - it tickled and felt very uncomfortable. Getting a few hours of sleep seemed impossible. But if it helped Merlin, it was okay.
In the morning, when Merlin started to stir, Arthur disentangled himself from all those long limbs and quietly made his way out of the room, careful not to step on any of those used tissues. He liked Merlin, he really liked him, but picking that stuff up for him…err…no, just no. But he made fresh tea and put a mug on Merlin’s desk while he was in the bathroom, taking a shower.
All day long, Merlin wandered through their place as if on auto pilot. His face showed that he’d cried a lot, his hair was a bigger mess than usual and he hadn’t bothered to shave. Arthur watched him closely, still not knowing what to say. Maybe it was better to wait for Merlin to thank him for the night? Oh, and that thought sounded wrong. Of course he wanted Merlin to thank him for the previous night at some point, but he’d much rather preferred if that night didn’t consist of tears and way too much snot.
Merlin just showed up when he needed to refill his mug or to get a new bottle of water but Arthur smiled when he heard the typical sound of Merlin’s fingers flying over the keyboard later that day. Obviously Merlin had found the strength to discuss that last episode with his friends at length.
Now that Merlin felt a bit better, Arthur decided to go online, too. He hadn’t checked his emails since the night before and maybe he could say hi to a friend or two on Facebook.
While he was checking his emails, Facebook blinged with a new message.
Merlin E. Warlock
Thanks.
Arthur stared at the word. Thanks. Okay.
Arthur P. King
No worries.
That was it. Merlin thanked him for last night and there was no need to ever talk about it again.
Merlin E. Warlock
You know I know it’s just a TV show, right?
Arthur P. King
Sure. Don’t worry. Hope you’re feeling better.
Merlin E. Warlock
Not really, but thanks again. For..
Arthur’s heartbeat sped up a bit. For holding me? For making me feel better by touching me?
Merlin E. Warlock
…not making fun of me.
Arthur laughed.
Arthur P. King
Who said I didn’t? ;)
When there wasn’t an immediate answer, Arthur sighed. He’d overstepped the line. Merlin couldn’t handle that yet. But then his messages beeped again.
Merlin E. Warlock
At least not to my face :)
Arthur P. King
If you need to be made fun of, you know where to find me. ;)
Again, there wasn’t an answer in quite a while and Arthur thought that was the end of their conversation, but then there was a new message.
Merlin E. Warlock
Actually, I’d rather have…
Arthur bit his lower lip.
Merlin E. Warlock
…I could use someone to cling to again tonight.
Arthur stared at the screen. Had Merlin just typed that? But it was there. While he pondered what to answer - he’d typed up several messages from ‘your room or mine?’, ‘will we need the Kleenex for something else tonight?’ to ‘let me find a new sweatshirt you can cry into’ and deleted all of them before he sent them - there was a knock at his door. When he turned, Merlin stood there, still looking rather rumpled in one of his oversized hoodies and sweatpants.
“Hey.”
“Hey. I…,” Merlin didn’t look at him, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, come on in.” It was rare that Merlin came to his room.
Merlin took another step inside and just stood there, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, looking down at his bare feet. “I shouldn’t have sent this.”
“Only if you didn’t mean it.” Arthur got up.
“I did!” Merlin looked up. “Mean it, I mean.”
Arthur smiled. “You make no sense at all. First, you shove me away, then you ruin my favorite sweatshirt and now…”
“I’m sorry, I’ll wash it. Or buy you a new one if it’s a gonner.”
Stepping closer, Arthur’s smile widened. “I’m just yanking your chain.”
“Oh.”
“Merlin…I’d…,” Arthur got serious again, “I’d need to know…what are you here for?”
Worrying his lower lip, Merlin looked everywhere but at Arthur’s face. “I…I don’t really know myself. But you were great last night. I didn’t need speeches or reason. You just…you were there. Thanks for that.”
Arthur just nodded.
“I’m not sure what I need tonight. And it’s probably not fair to use you like that…” Merlin turned to go.
His hand shot out on its own and grabbed Merlin‘s upper arm. While Arthur tried not to get distracted by how good Merlin’s biceps felt under the soft fabric, he just looked at the other bloke. “Whatever you need, Merlin.” He pulled Merlin close and nuzzled into Merlin’s neck. “Whatever you need.”
Merlin wrapped his arms around him and clinged a bit. “You’re so much better than all those blokes on TV but I have a hard time letting go.” He sighed.
“How about…we repeat last night?” Arthur’s smile turned into a small grin. “Just…maybe we could skip that part where you’re bawling your eyes out?”
“I can’t promise anything,” Merlin gave a weak smile, “but I could try?”
Pulling back, Arthur smiled. “Sounds good to me. I just got my new Little Britain DVD box, wanna watch a few of those?”
Merlin nodded and climbed on the bed while Arthur put the DVD in.
First, they sat next to each other, backs leaned against the headboard but later, Merlin scooted closer and Arthur wrapped his arm around him as he snuggled close.
Maybe, the end of Merlin’s favorite TV show had something good to it after all. Maybe it was a new beginning.
Title: The end
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur
Summary: Merlin is inconsolable over the end of his favourite TV-show
Warnings: Yet another cheesy one, modern AU, not sure if I need to warn for spoilers of 5x13, so I better do
Word Count: 2676
beta: Thanks to tambear13
Notes:: Not mine, not real, no copyright infringement intended, and all such.
Sorry for this one *hangs head in shame* Just had to work with all the feels.
Arthur didn’t know what to say. He’d only watched the show because the others really liked it and he knew it was a big deal for them that this would be the very last episode. When it finally ended, he knew he would miss their evenings in front of TV for this - as Percy and especially Merlin had always made events out of it - but it was nothing that would bother him for weeks, or even for hours.
Merlin had sniffled all day long and started to cry when the first notes of the title theme were heard. More than once he’d held out his hand to the TV, yelling ‘NO!’ and by the end of the show, with all of Merlin’s favorite characters dead, he’d just sat there, sobbing loudly, once in a while reaching for the tissue box that passed between Percy and him.
“What a stupid ending,” Gwaine grumbled and got up.
Percy shot him a look and then blew his nose noisily. “Yeah, they could have let the good-looking one live.”
Gwaine flipped his hair back and put a smooch on Percy’s forehead. “You’ve met him at the theatre since they were done shooting, he was alive and kicking. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s fine.”
Arthur got up and busied himself with collecting empty cups and bringing them to the kitchen. That Merlin hadn’t said a word yet and was still staring at the now-black TV screen, tears rolling down his face, worried him. He never understood the fascination with a show. A sports team, yes, that he could understand. When there was action and a team won or lost, that he could get into. But a TV show? A bit of acting, some special effects and a story? Nothing to get really worked up over.
But Merlin did. He had, in the past years, religiously followed the show, never missed an episode and managed to teach all their friends not to call when the show was on. He knew every actor and did everything to go places where they showed up. Lately, he even managed to get a photo with one of the lead actors, which was framed now and hung in Merlin’s room.
Once, Arthur had tried to figure out what it really was what Merlin was so fascinated about. He couldn’t understand how Merlin could all but fall in love with one of the lead guys. He didn’t even know him! In real life he was probably just an idiot who didn’t take the trash out and left the toilet seat up. The thing Arthur could understand was when Merlin talked about the friends he’d made through this. The people he kept meeting at the events and who he talked to online a lot. And he could understand when Merlin said it inspired his creativity and that he’d started writing fan fiction again. Arthur had not asked what specific kind of fan fiction, and no, he never wanted to read any of it, but it made Merlin happy, so that was fine by him.
That one night, when they went out after the show and had a few beers too many, Arthur had accused Merlin of losing his focus on the real world. That he was drooling over fantasy men on screen so much that he’d lost sight of what was around him.
Merlin had declared that he didn’t know of anyone in his surrounding who would be interested in him, so chances were slim that he overlooked a real person. So he wasn’t hurting anyone with his fascination and as long as he didn’t, it was totally okay.
Later, Arthur could have kicked himself for not admitting that yes, there was someone close to Merlin who liked him a lot more than just as a friend and that he felt so overlooked and that it wasn’t a nice feeling to hear how wonderful a certain actor was (or the character, depending on Merlin’s mood), always having to compare himself with those men. But he just couldn’t bring it over him to tell Merlin about his feelings. He wasn’t good at talking when it came to emotions. They were there, someone else noticed them, they acted on them, right? But Merlin never noticed and instead ran after people who never saw anything else but a simple fanboy in him.
So he’d taken to watch the show with Merlin and even he had to admit that there wasn’t a single not-good-looking person on screen. The plots usually made his skin crawl and more than once he’d groaned at bad dialogue but the scenery was nice and if only he let himself, he could get sucked into the world of castles, knights, magic and evil, too.
And emerge from it as soon as the end credits rolled.
When he came back from the kitchen, Merlin still sat in the same spot, not even wiping his nose any more. Just as he pondered how he could pull Merlin out of that state, Gwaine knelt in front of the couch.
“Merlin. Merls, honey, I know you love that show. I know it’s hard that it’s over now. But it’s just a TV show. Be happy for the good times it brought, for the friends you’ve made, for the crazy stuff you’ve done and move on. The actors already have, you should, too. And hey, now you might get to see them in even better stuff.”
As forward and cheeky as Gwaine could be, sometimes he just found the right words. But Merlin didn’t even react.
Sighing, Gwaine got up, ruffled Merlin’s hair and threw Arthur a look.
Maybe they just needed to let Merlin sit and mourn the loss of his favorite show and later they’d hear him typing away at his laptop, discussing every scene, every line, every emotion on the actors’ faces with his fandom friends.
Gwaine took it upon him to console Percy and they vanished into Percy’s room a while later.
When Arthur came back from the kitchen where he had put some dishes into the dishwasher and stood in front of the fridge for about ten minutes to see if it held something he might feel peckish for, Merlin was gone. That was a good sign, right? But as much as he listened, he didn’t hear the usual typing from Merlin’s room.
He made fresh tea and knocked at Merlin’s door. “Merlin?” he called softly, “care for some tea?”
But he didn’t get an answer, so he grabbed the book he’d started to read a few days back and got comfy on the couch.
About two hours later, the door opened and Merlin made his way to the bathroom.
Arthur had never seen him so upset. His heart broke when he saw the puffy eyes and the blotchy face, tears still running down Merlin’s face.
When Merlin came back, Arthur stepped in his way. He didn’t know what to say, so he just wrapped his arms around him and tried to pull him close.
“I don’t…,” Merlin sniffed, “I don’t need your pity.” He shoved at Arthur’s chest and freed himself, vanishing once again into his room.
Pity? Arthur didn’t pity him. He just hurt because Merlin hurt and he wanted to do everything in his might to make that hurt go away. Obviously he had gone wrong about it.
After a while, he grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and the Kleenex box that was still on the coffee table and carefully opened Merlin’s door. It was dark and quiet and for a moment Arthur thought that Merlin had fallen asleep. When he set the tissues and the bottle down carefully next to the bed, he noticed that Merlin was awake. Curled up on his side, staring ahead, tears still falling from his face.
Arthur reached out to wipe the tears away, but then pulled his hand back. He didn’t know what made him do it, but he kicked his shoes off and just climbed on the bed, wrapping his arm around Merlin, pulling him close. He was ready for being kicked out, but Merlin didn’t flinch.
What he wasn’t prepared for was Merlin snuggling close to him, digging his fists into his sweatshirt and starting sobbing in earnest again. Arthur wasn’t good with other people crying. He never knew what to say or to do. Some of his ex-girlfriends had called him a heartless arse for just standing by while they cried. And a crying bloke was a whole different story. So he did the only thing that came to his mind - hold on and let Merlin get it all out.
Arthur tried to focus on the smell of Merlin’s hair, on the way he was shaking in his arms, on the way it seemed Merlin tried to scoot even closer, but at some point he couldn’t ignore the wet patch on his sweatshirt any longer. He tried to convince himself that it were just Merlin’s tears, nothing else, while Merlin sniffled loudly. He reached for the Kleenex box and handed Merlin some tissues, which Merlin used noisily and dropped next to the bed. Arthur tried not to think about what it would look like in the morning.
After a while Merlin stopped sobbing, but tears were still streaking down his face as he calmed down a bit.
Not knowing what else he should do or if he should say anything, Arthur just rubbed soothing circles on Merlin’s back.
Merlin’s breathing evened out and Arthur thought he’d finally fallen asleep. He pondered getting up and leaving, but that didn’t seem fair. Just because Merlin had finally cried himself into exhaustion didn’t mean he was okay, right? And Arthur wanted to be there for him. Maybe Merlin would realize some time later that there was indeed a real bloke close who might be worth a try.
Even though his sweatshirt clung to his chest where Merlin had cried on it, it was nice to lie like this. Especially when Merlin snuffled into his neck. But then something wet made its way down Arthur’s neck and even though it were just more tears - at least Arthur hoped it was just tears - it tickled and felt very uncomfortable. Getting a few hours of sleep seemed impossible. But if it helped Merlin, it was okay.
In the morning, when Merlin started to stir, Arthur disentangled himself from all those long limbs and quietly made his way out of the room, careful not to step on any of those used tissues. He liked Merlin, he really liked him, but picking that stuff up for him…err…no, just no. But he made fresh tea and put a mug on Merlin’s desk while he was in the bathroom, taking a shower.
All day long, Merlin wandered through their place as if on auto pilot. His face showed that he’d cried a lot, his hair was a bigger mess than usual and he hadn’t bothered to shave. Arthur watched him closely, still not knowing what to say. Maybe it was better to wait for Merlin to thank him for the night? Oh, and that thought sounded wrong. Of course he wanted Merlin to thank him for the previous night at some point, but he’d much rather preferred if that night didn’t consist of tears and way too much snot.
Merlin just showed up when he needed to refill his mug or to get a new bottle of water but Arthur smiled when he heard the typical sound of Merlin’s fingers flying over the keyboard later that day. Obviously Merlin had found the strength to discuss that last episode with his friends at length.
Now that Merlin felt a bit better, Arthur decided to go online, too. He hadn’t checked his emails since the night before and maybe he could say hi to a friend or two on Facebook.
While he was checking his emails, Facebook blinged with a new message.
Merlin E. Warlock
Thanks.
Arthur stared at the word. Thanks. Okay.
Arthur P. King
No worries.
That was it. Merlin thanked him for last night and there was no need to ever talk about it again.
Merlin E. Warlock
You know I know it’s just a TV show, right?
Arthur P. King
Sure. Don’t worry. Hope you’re feeling better.
Merlin E. Warlock
Not really, but thanks again. For..
Arthur’s heartbeat sped up a bit. For holding me? For making me feel better by touching me?
Merlin E. Warlock
…not making fun of me.
Arthur laughed.
Arthur P. King
Who said I didn’t? ;)
When there wasn’t an immediate answer, Arthur sighed. He’d overstepped the line. Merlin couldn’t handle that yet. But then his messages beeped again.
Merlin E. Warlock
At least not to my face :)
Arthur P. King
If you need to be made fun of, you know where to find me. ;)
Again, there wasn’t an answer in quite a while and Arthur thought that was the end of their conversation, but then there was a new message.
Merlin E. Warlock
Actually, I’d rather have…
Arthur bit his lower lip.
Merlin E. Warlock
…I could use someone to cling to again tonight.
Arthur stared at the screen. Had Merlin just typed that? But it was there. While he pondered what to answer - he’d typed up several messages from ‘your room or mine?’, ‘will we need the Kleenex for something else tonight?’ to ‘let me find a new sweatshirt you can cry into’ and deleted all of them before he sent them - there was a knock at his door. When he turned, Merlin stood there, still looking rather rumpled in one of his oversized hoodies and sweatpants.
“Hey.”
“Hey. I…,” Merlin didn’t look at him, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, come on in.” It was rare that Merlin came to his room.
Merlin took another step inside and just stood there, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, looking down at his bare feet. “I shouldn’t have sent this.”
“Only if you didn’t mean it.” Arthur got up.
“I did!” Merlin looked up. “Mean it, I mean.”
Arthur smiled. “You make no sense at all. First, you shove me away, then you ruin my favorite sweatshirt and now…”
“I’m sorry, I’ll wash it. Or buy you a new one if it’s a gonner.”
Stepping closer, Arthur’s smile widened. “I’m just yanking your chain.”
“Oh.”
“Merlin…I’d…,” Arthur got serious again, “I’d need to know…what are you here for?”
Worrying his lower lip, Merlin looked everywhere but at Arthur’s face. “I…I don’t really know myself. But you were great last night. I didn’t need speeches or reason. You just…you were there. Thanks for that.”
Arthur just nodded.
“I’m not sure what I need tonight. And it’s probably not fair to use you like that…” Merlin turned to go.
His hand shot out on its own and grabbed Merlin‘s upper arm. While Arthur tried not to get distracted by how good Merlin’s biceps felt under the soft fabric, he just looked at the other bloke. “Whatever you need, Merlin.” He pulled Merlin close and nuzzled into Merlin’s neck. “Whatever you need.”
Merlin wrapped his arms around him and clinged a bit. “You’re so much better than all those blokes on TV but I have a hard time letting go.” He sighed.
“How about…we repeat last night?” Arthur’s smile turned into a small grin. “Just…maybe we could skip that part where you’re bawling your eyes out?”
“I can’t promise anything,” Merlin gave a weak smile, “but I could try?”
Pulling back, Arthur smiled. “Sounds good to me. I just got my new Little Britain DVD box, wanna watch a few of those?”
Merlin nodded and climbed on the bed while Arthur put the DVD in.
First, they sat next to each other, backs leaned against the headboard but later, Merlin scooted closer and Arthur wrapped his arm around him as he snuggled close.
Maybe, the end of Merlin’s favorite TV show had something good to it after all. Maybe it was a new beginning.