RAIN
SUMMARY: Arthur and Merlin get caught in the rain.
RATING: PG
A/N: Just a little something I had hanging around on my hard drive and had forgotten about.
RAIN
They had gotten caught in the rain.
Merlin shivered underneath his wet coat and tunic as they finally rode into a clearing relatively untouched by rain, and Arthur suggested they dismount to rest and dry off some.
He had told Arthur they should seek shelter before the rain came pouring down, but Arthur, as was usual, would not listen, instead teasing Merlin about being scared of a little rain. They hadn’t been riding long, when the skies opened up and showered them with heavy summer rain. With no source of shelter around them, they rode on, through the rain, until they had come to this spot.
Merlin tied his horse to a tree, sliding Arthur a resentful look. He was thoroughly soaked through and, though it was early summer, the wetness caused a chill to run through him.
“It’s just a little rain, Merlin,” Arthur said defensively, securing his own horse. He was wet too, but did not look nearly as chilled and bedraggled as Merlin. “Why don’t you find a nice spot to camp for a bit, and I’ll go into these woods here and collect some dry branches for a fire?”
He gave Merlin one of his looks, which Merlin barely acknowledged, busying himself with the horses and their satchels. Arthur huffed and then stomped off to the wooded area in pursuit of kindling.
As he collected branches, Arthur stewed some about Merlin’s surly behaviour and then finally resigned himself to feeling bad. He should have listened to Merlin. And because he hadn’t - stubbornly thinking he knew better than his manservant - they had gotten caught in a downpour with no readily available means of shelter. It hadn’t bothered Arthur much, but poor Merlin did look like a drowned rat, and his shivering made Arthur feel like a complete prat. But, he’d make it up to him by building a fire to warm him up and surely all would be forgiven.
Merlin pulled off his drenched jacket and set about marking out a spot for camp and a fire. He was cold and miserable, and only partly because he was wet. The other part stemmed from the fact that Arthur hadn’t listened to him, had dismissed his advice without much thought. It bothered Merlin whenever Arthur did this, making him feel insignificant and unworthy.
Arthur returned with several branches for kindling and a few more substantive pieces of wood for a fire. He began arranging the wood for a fire, saying, “I know you’re cold, Merlin, but you should take off your tunic and hang it by the fire to help it dry some. The fire should keep you warm enough until it does.”
Merlin had noticed that Arthur’s voice was much softer now and he supposed Arthur had probably realized how much of a prat he had been in ignoring Merlin and was now trying to make it up to him.
While Arthur worked on getting the fire going, Merlin took his advice and pulled off his tunic. He looked around for some place to hang it.
“Here,” Arthur invited. “Drape it over my sword.” He had unsheathed his sword and had stuck the blade into the ground by the fire pit. Merlin draped it over the hilt.
Arthur had gotten the fire started. He removed his leather vest and spread it on the ground near the fire. “Sit down here, Merlin,” Arthur offered, “close to the fire.” Arthur stripped off his tunic and hung it on the sword hilt with Merlin’s. “I saw a small log at the edge of the clearing. See if you can’t get the fire burning.”
Merlin sat down on the vest seat, thinking to himself that, while it was a nice gesture, chivalrous almost, Merlin would be the one cleaning Arthur’s garment later. When he was sure Arthur was out of sight, he flicked a hand at the beginning fire to magnify the catch of the flames, not too noticeably so, of course, just enough to create heat in order to stop his teeth from chattering.
Arthur pulled the short log up behind Merlin and then sat down on it, feet planted on each side of Merlin’s hips. He was so close he could see the goose bumps on Merlin’s pale flesh. “You’re still cold,” Arthur stated. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around Merlin’s body, trying to warm him with his own body heat.
As soon as he felt Arthur’s body wrap around him, Merlin shivered, and it had nothing to do with being cold. The feel of Arthur’s chest on his back, his arms on his, had sent a pleasant shock through his body.
Arthur had simply intended to warm Merlin some, but the close body contact stirred something inside him. Arthur found himself pressing his mouth to Merlin’s shoulder blade then brushing his lips across the back of his neck.
Arthur knew he should probably tell Merlin that he was sorry. And he also knew he should probably tell Merlin that he loved him. But he said nothing and simply continued to ghost kisses across Merlin’s skin.
The gentle touch of Arthur’s lips against his skin warmed Merlin better than any fire could. With each kiss to his body, Merlin could feel Arthur’s unspoken apology, could feel Arthur’s unspoken love.
Merlin turned and pushed Arthur off the log with the force of his own body, so that Arthur landed flat on his back on the ground. Merlin lay on top of him.
Arthur grinned up at him. “Now, aren’t you glad we got caught in the rain?”
Merlin lightly shoved a hand into Arthur’s abdomen, proclaiming “Prat!” Then he kissed him, whispering “yes” against his lips.
Arthur eagerly returned the kiss. Still, he promised himself that he would do his best to listen to Merlin more often in the future.
THE END
RATING: PG
A/N: Just a little something I had hanging around on my hard drive and had forgotten about.
RAIN
They had gotten caught in the rain.
Merlin shivered underneath his wet coat and tunic as they finally rode into a clearing relatively untouched by rain, and Arthur suggested they dismount to rest and dry off some.
He had told Arthur they should seek shelter before the rain came pouring down, but Arthur, as was usual, would not listen, instead teasing Merlin about being scared of a little rain. They hadn’t been riding long, when the skies opened up and showered them with heavy summer rain. With no source of shelter around them, they rode on, through the rain, until they had come to this spot.
Merlin tied his horse to a tree, sliding Arthur a resentful look. He was thoroughly soaked through and, though it was early summer, the wetness caused a chill to run through him.
“It’s just a little rain, Merlin,” Arthur said defensively, securing his own horse. He was wet too, but did not look nearly as chilled and bedraggled as Merlin. “Why don’t you find a nice spot to camp for a bit, and I’ll go into these woods here and collect some dry branches for a fire?”
He gave Merlin one of his looks, which Merlin barely acknowledged, busying himself with the horses and their satchels. Arthur huffed and then stomped off to the wooded area in pursuit of kindling.
As he collected branches, Arthur stewed some about Merlin’s surly behaviour and then finally resigned himself to feeling bad. He should have listened to Merlin. And because he hadn’t - stubbornly thinking he knew better than his manservant - they had gotten caught in a downpour with no readily available means of shelter. It hadn’t bothered Arthur much, but poor Merlin did look like a drowned rat, and his shivering made Arthur feel like a complete prat. But, he’d make it up to him by building a fire to warm him up and surely all would be forgiven.
Merlin pulled off his drenched jacket and set about marking out a spot for camp and a fire. He was cold and miserable, and only partly because he was wet. The other part stemmed from the fact that Arthur hadn’t listened to him, had dismissed his advice without much thought. It bothered Merlin whenever Arthur did this, making him feel insignificant and unworthy.
Arthur returned with several branches for kindling and a few more substantive pieces of wood for a fire. He began arranging the wood for a fire, saying, “I know you’re cold, Merlin, but you should take off your tunic and hang it by the fire to help it dry some. The fire should keep you warm enough until it does.”
Merlin had noticed that Arthur’s voice was much softer now and he supposed Arthur had probably realized how much of a prat he had been in ignoring Merlin and was now trying to make it up to him.
While Arthur worked on getting the fire going, Merlin took his advice and pulled off his tunic. He looked around for some place to hang it.
“Here,” Arthur invited. “Drape it over my sword.” He had unsheathed his sword and had stuck the blade into the ground by the fire pit. Merlin draped it over the hilt.
Arthur had gotten the fire started. He removed his leather vest and spread it on the ground near the fire. “Sit down here, Merlin,” Arthur offered, “close to the fire.” Arthur stripped off his tunic and hung it on the sword hilt with Merlin’s. “I saw a small log at the edge of the clearing. See if you can’t get the fire burning.”
Merlin sat down on the vest seat, thinking to himself that, while it was a nice gesture, chivalrous almost, Merlin would be the one cleaning Arthur’s garment later. When he was sure Arthur was out of sight, he flicked a hand at the beginning fire to magnify the catch of the flames, not too noticeably so, of course, just enough to create heat in order to stop his teeth from chattering.
Arthur pulled the short log up behind Merlin and then sat down on it, feet planted on each side of Merlin’s hips. He was so close he could see the goose bumps on Merlin’s pale flesh. “You’re still cold,” Arthur stated. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around Merlin’s body, trying to warm him with his own body heat.
As soon as he felt Arthur’s body wrap around him, Merlin shivered, and it had nothing to do with being cold. The feel of Arthur’s chest on his back, his arms on his, had sent a pleasant shock through his body.
Arthur had simply intended to warm Merlin some, but the close body contact stirred something inside him. Arthur found himself pressing his mouth to Merlin’s shoulder blade then brushing his lips across the back of his neck.
Arthur knew he should probably tell Merlin that he was sorry. And he also knew he should probably tell Merlin that he loved him. But he said nothing and simply continued to ghost kisses across Merlin’s skin.
The gentle touch of Arthur’s lips against his skin warmed Merlin better than any fire could. With each kiss to his body, Merlin could feel Arthur’s unspoken apology, could feel Arthur’s unspoken love.
Merlin turned and pushed Arthur off the log with the force of his own body, so that Arthur landed flat on his back on the ground. Merlin lay on top of him.
Arthur grinned up at him. “Now, aren’t you glad we got caught in the rain?”
Merlin lightly shoved a hand into Arthur’s abdomen, proclaiming “Prat!” Then he kissed him, whispering “yes” against his lips.
Arthur eagerly returned the kiss. Still, he promised himself that he would do his best to listen to Merlin more often in the future.
THE END