Pick up your phone (Sambucca verse 1)
Author: amarie_authiel
Title: Pick up your phone
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: None. Or none yet, I believe.
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur. Hunnith and Uther mentioned.
Summary: Arthur is not answering his phone, Merlin rambles on trying to find out why.
Warnings: Umm… There’s some drinking? Very vague hint of possible budding alcoholism?
Word Count: ~415
Prompt:# Courtship
Author's Notes: This is mostly just silly. Also lame title is lame.
This was mostly written for a earlier priomt, but not finished.
In my head this is Arthur failing at courtship, and that’s why I think it fits the prompt.
Oh yeah and terribly unbetaed, as usual.
Arthur,
Would you pick up your phone, you gigantic clotpole?!
You left your jacket behind when you fled the house this morning. Mum thought your dad had had another heart attack or something from the way you acted, it was a bit strange to explain that you were freaking out about having shown a few human traits and you had to go reboot your hardware or something.
You fell asleep in my bed. It's hardly worth this level of drama. It’s not like you’re a teen with a curfew anymore.
You looked strangely normal when sleeping. No, egomaniac, I did not stay up to ogle you in your sleep. I went to sleep too, it's my bed after all! But you snore, man. I’ll be willing to blame the whiskey for that. Don’t know why you brought it with you, you know I don’t drink that stuff and clearly you shouldn’t either. I repeatedly had to roll you over to avoid the house from collapsing from the vibrations. Now, I'm not saying you're fat. Let's just say you're a heavy sleeper and leave it at that.
You never actually said what it was you said you wanted to say.
Quite frankly I didn't think you actually slept, ever. I assumed you rested standing up in a big box with velvet lined hard foam shaped like you, custom made. Your house staff would dust you off gently and polish away any greasy fingerprints us nasty Ordinary People might have dared to leave on you before they folded flimsy sheets of paper around you and closed the lid until morning.
It's rather insulting that waking up with me is THIS traumatising. I woke with your arm around me and didn't kick up any fuss. I hug you all the time. Well, at least more often than others. Which I guess is next to never. What are you doing anyway, since you can’t answer your phone all of a sudden? Having the offending arm removed by the shoulder and burned? Are you submerged in bleach?
And if it's the other thing... That happens to all guys at night, everybody knows that. It's a small bed, bodyparts will touch.
Gave Mum what was left the whiskey btw. She was thrilled. If there’s anyone more anxious than me to see me move out of the house again, it’s her.
Just pick up your phone, you idiot. I know where you live and I have ways to make you talk (Sambuca).
-M
( Follow up: "Online")
Title: Pick up your phone
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: None. Or none yet, I believe.
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur. Hunnith and Uther mentioned.
Summary: Arthur is not answering his phone, Merlin rambles on trying to find out why.
Warnings: Umm… There’s some drinking? Very vague hint of possible budding alcoholism?
Word Count: ~415
Prompt:# Courtship
Author's Notes: This is mostly just silly. Also lame title is lame.
This was mostly written for a earlier priomt, but not finished.
In my head this is Arthur failing at courtship, and that’s why I think it fits the prompt.
Oh yeah and terribly unbetaed, as usual.
Arthur,
Would you pick up your phone, you gigantic clotpole?!
You left your jacket behind when you fled the house this morning. Mum thought your dad had had another heart attack or something from the way you acted, it was a bit strange to explain that you were freaking out about having shown a few human traits and you had to go reboot your hardware or something.
You fell asleep in my bed. It's hardly worth this level of drama. It’s not like you’re a teen with a curfew anymore.
You looked strangely normal when sleeping. No, egomaniac, I did not stay up to ogle you in your sleep. I went to sleep too, it's my bed after all! But you snore, man. I’ll be willing to blame the whiskey for that. Don’t know why you brought it with you, you know I don’t drink that stuff and clearly you shouldn’t either. I repeatedly had to roll you over to avoid the house from collapsing from the vibrations. Now, I'm not saying you're fat. Let's just say you're a heavy sleeper and leave it at that.
You never actually said what it was you said you wanted to say.
Quite frankly I didn't think you actually slept, ever. I assumed you rested standing up in a big box with velvet lined hard foam shaped like you, custom made. Your house staff would dust you off gently and polish away any greasy fingerprints us nasty Ordinary People might have dared to leave on you before they folded flimsy sheets of paper around you and closed the lid until morning.
It's rather insulting that waking up with me is THIS traumatising. I woke with your arm around me and didn't kick up any fuss. I hug you all the time. Well, at least more often than others. Which I guess is next to never. What are you doing anyway, since you can’t answer your phone all of a sudden? Having the offending arm removed by the shoulder and burned? Are you submerged in bleach?
And if it's the other thing... That happens to all guys at night, everybody knows that. It's a small bed, bodyparts will touch.
Gave Mum what was left the whiskey btw. She was thrilled. If there’s anyone more anxious than me to see me move out of the house again, it’s her.
Just pick up your phone, you idiot. I know where you live and I have ways to make you talk (Sambuca).
-M
( Follow up: "Online")