Merlin fic - A Rather Hairy Situation
Title: A Rather Hairy Situation
Rating: a very non-explicit R
Warnings/Spoilers: none
Word Count: 955
Summary: Based off the kinkme_merlin prompt: Arthur/Merlin, Arthur grows a beard
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me and I am not making profit off of this in any way. Merlin belongs to the BBC.
Author's Note: Comments = ♥. Originally posted here.
It was a few years after Uther died, long enough so that the country's grief had passed, though that may have had more to do with the rapid improvements Arthur's reign was bringing than time spent mourning the passing of their former regent.
As much success as he was having, as much good as he knew he was doing, there was so much more, Arthur thought, he could be accomplishing.
But he had a problem.
Arthur noticed that many of the lords, foreign dignitaries and occasional advisors who knew his father well, gave him a smile just slightly too condescending, lowered their heads just slightly too little, and talked behind his back without fear entirely too often.
The problem, he figured, and he knew that if Merlin ever heard it in those words he would never stop laughing, is that he was still too damn pretty.
Seriously.
Arthur had always been the literal golden boy, bright blond mane and baby blues. Just because he'd rather busy himself with fighting and maiming than spend one minute with the castle seamstress, trying on various shades for his next set of robes, didn’t mean he was completely illiterate about these things.
Arthur’d always known the effect he had on people. When he was prince, it only ever worked to his advantage - hold their glances and smile slowly while asking for what one didn't want to command by force. Completion of said task was just as guaranteed and probably more immediate.
But now one needed to command respect and that was something for which no amount of charm could substitute.
He needed to do something to make himself appear older, wiser, someone to be taken more seriously…
An epiphany struck Arthur suddenly. That’s it! Arthur thought, It’s decided. I am brilliant.
He was going to grow a beard.
---
Three days later, Merlin noticed. "Sire," he said, tone mocking as usual, "are you planning on shaving any time soon?"
Arthur turned his head to the side, looking back at the man sharing his pillow, sheets rumpled somewhere down around their ankles, a fresh bite mark bruising the pulse point of Merlin's neck. Arthur was distracted for a moment, lost in the evidence of him, them, fresh against Merlin's skin. Occasionally it still caught him off guard, even after these past couple of years.
"Arthur," Merlin said, "Are you even listening?"
Arthur snapped his line of vision back up to Merlin's eyes. "Of course. What?"
"I said, are you planning to shave ever again?" Arthur noticed now the way Merlin was rubbing his face, red with stubble burn. It was adorable. But then again, Arthur thought everything about Merlin was adorable. It was sickening, really.
Arthur sighed. He had to explain his plan. Merlin would keep pushing him until he cracked, like he always did.
Two minutes later and Merlin nearly fell off the bed in laughter. Arthur raised his eyebrows in indignation, crossing his arms over his chest. He hadn't even used the word pretty! Just, you know, too... fresh faced.
"Well, you're just going to have to get used to it, Merlin, 'cause I'm not changing my mind anytime soon." he said sourly, when Merlin’s giggles finally subsided.
Merlin just raised an eyebrow, flicked his fingers and his stubble burn disappeared.
Arthur smirked slightly. "Convenient."
Merlin sighed. "I know."
---
A week later his beard was coming along rather nicely, Arthur thought. He hadn’t had a chance to test it out on the lords - that would come within the next week, when Mercia’s party arrived for renewed border talks - but Bertha the old cook whose tongue had grown loose with old age told him he looked “quite manly indeed, we might just make a true king out of you yet, Sire.” Technically he could have her booted from the job for her frankness, but honestly it was just the assurance he’d been looking for.
There was just Merlin to worry about now. True, Arthur was taking measures to distance himself from his pretty boy image, but he didn’t want to become unattractive to his lover. Merlin hadn’t said anything since Arthur told him about the plan, but he did have to use his anti-burn charm rather often and one time, while just waking up, Arthur felt Merlin reach out with two fingers, sliding them down the side of his face, over the new hair growing there.
That night, tangled up in each other, all burns, sweat, and bodily fluids conveniently magicked away as usual, Arthur took a single deep inhale and said, looking down at the sheets, "You don't really mind, do you?"
Merlin tilted his head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Arthur pursed his lips slightly. “My beard, of course. I mean, if you think it looks awful…”
Merlin let out a huff of surprised laughter and reached out a hand, tipping up Arthur’s head to meet his eyes with one finger. Arthur watched Merlin looking at him, eyes soft, face tinted with amusement and exasperation and, well, love. "Of course not, Arthur. You look rather dashing you know."
Arthur’s lips started to turn up in a slow grin. "Oh, do I now?"
"Yes you do and I swear, if you hold those words against me I will refuse sex for a week."
"You couldn't possibly," Arthur responded, normal smug grin now fully back in place.
They both knew this was true.
Merlin narrowed his eyes slightly. "Just remember this in the future! Someday when we're old and my beard is long and gray and completely dignified and not at all silly looking."
This time Arthur burst out laughing. "Oh please, Merlin. Don't be ridiculous. As if you could ever grow a beard."
Rating: a very non-explicit R
Warnings/Spoilers: none
Word Count: 955
Summary: Based off the kinkme_merlin prompt: Arthur/Merlin, Arthur grows a beard
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me and I am not making profit off of this in any way. Merlin belongs to the BBC.
Author's Note: Comments = ♥. Originally posted here.
It was a few years after Uther died, long enough so that the country's grief had passed, though that may have had more to do with the rapid improvements Arthur's reign was bringing than time spent mourning the passing of their former regent.
As much success as he was having, as much good as he knew he was doing, there was so much more, Arthur thought, he could be accomplishing.
But he had a problem.
Arthur noticed that many of the lords, foreign dignitaries and occasional advisors who knew his father well, gave him a smile just slightly too condescending, lowered their heads just slightly too little, and talked behind his back without fear entirely too often.
The problem, he figured, and he knew that if Merlin ever heard it in those words he would never stop laughing, is that he was still too damn pretty.
Seriously.
Arthur had always been the literal golden boy, bright blond mane and baby blues. Just because he'd rather busy himself with fighting and maiming than spend one minute with the castle seamstress, trying on various shades for his next set of robes, didn’t mean he was completely illiterate about these things.
Arthur’d always known the effect he had on people. When he was prince, it only ever worked to his advantage - hold their glances and smile slowly while asking for what one didn't want to command by force. Completion of said task was just as guaranteed and probably more immediate.
But now one needed to command respect and that was something for which no amount of charm could substitute.
He needed to do something to make himself appear older, wiser, someone to be taken more seriously…
An epiphany struck Arthur suddenly. That’s it! Arthur thought, It’s decided. I am brilliant.
He was going to grow a beard.
---
Three days later, Merlin noticed. "Sire," he said, tone mocking as usual, "are you planning on shaving any time soon?"
Arthur turned his head to the side, looking back at the man sharing his pillow, sheets rumpled somewhere down around their ankles, a fresh bite mark bruising the pulse point of Merlin's neck. Arthur was distracted for a moment, lost in the evidence of him, them, fresh against Merlin's skin. Occasionally it still caught him off guard, even after these past couple of years.
"Arthur," Merlin said, "Are you even listening?"
Arthur snapped his line of vision back up to Merlin's eyes. "Of course. What?"
"I said, are you planning to shave ever again?" Arthur noticed now the way Merlin was rubbing his face, red with stubble burn. It was adorable. But then again, Arthur thought everything about Merlin was adorable. It was sickening, really.
Arthur sighed. He had to explain his plan. Merlin would keep pushing him until he cracked, like he always did.
Two minutes later and Merlin nearly fell off the bed in laughter. Arthur raised his eyebrows in indignation, crossing his arms over his chest. He hadn't even used the word pretty! Just, you know, too... fresh faced.
"Well, you're just going to have to get used to it, Merlin, 'cause I'm not changing my mind anytime soon." he said sourly, when Merlin’s giggles finally subsided.
Merlin just raised an eyebrow, flicked his fingers and his stubble burn disappeared.
Arthur smirked slightly. "Convenient."
Merlin sighed. "I know."
---
A week later his beard was coming along rather nicely, Arthur thought. He hadn’t had a chance to test it out on the lords - that would come within the next week, when Mercia’s party arrived for renewed border talks - but Bertha the old cook whose tongue had grown loose with old age told him he looked “quite manly indeed, we might just make a true king out of you yet, Sire.” Technically he could have her booted from the job for her frankness, but honestly it was just the assurance he’d been looking for.
There was just Merlin to worry about now. True, Arthur was taking measures to distance himself from his pretty boy image, but he didn’t want to become unattractive to his lover. Merlin hadn’t said anything since Arthur told him about the plan, but he did have to use his anti-burn charm rather often and one time, while just waking up, Arthur felt Merlin reach out with two fingers, sliding them down the side of his face, over the new hair growing there.
That night, tangled up in each other, all burns, sweat, and bodily fluids conveniently magicked away as usual, Arthur took a single deep inhale and said, looking down at the sheets, "You don't really mind, do you?"
Merlin tilted his head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Arthur pursed his lips slightly. “My beard, of course. I mean, if you think it looks awful…”
Merlin let out a huff of surprised laughter and reached out a hand, tipping up Arthur’s head to meet his eyes with one finger. Arthur watched Merlin looking at him, eyes soft, face tinted with amusement and exasperation and, well, love. "Of course not, Arthur. You look rather dashing you know."
Arthur’s lips started to turn up in a slow grin. "Oh, do I now?"
"Yes you do and I swear, if you hold those words against me I will refuse sex for a week."
"You couldn't possibly," Arthur responded, normal smug grin now fully back in place.
They both knew this was true.
Merlin narrowed his eyes slightly. "Just remember this in the future! Someday when we're old and my beard is long and gray and completely dignified and not at all silly looking."
This time Arthur burst out laughing. "Oh please, Merlin. Don't be ridiculous. As if you could ever grow a beard."