To Everyone Else (PG-13)
Title: To Everyone Else
Author: justthismorning
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Summary: To everyone else, it's the prince and his manservant. To them, it's something very different.
A/N: I was going to write something else, something very different. But as usual my brain hijacked itself and so we now have this instead.
To everyone else, the words mean “prat” and “idiot.” To Merlin and Arthur they mean “kiss me” and “I love you” and “forever.”
When everyone else hears him say “Sire” they hear respect and Merlin’s rightful place in the grand scheme. Arthur understands it as it is meant - each time different according to the circumstances.
“Yes Sire,” Merlin says, and Arthur hears “Be nice to me, I know all your ticklish spots.”
“I’m sorry, Sire,” Merlin says, and Arthur hears “You can’t possibly know how much I loathe you right now.”
“Sire?” Merlin said, and Arthur heard “Tell me you need me. Tell me you want this as much as I do.”
Arthur didn’t tell him, he showed him, and then the next Sire out of Merlin’s mouth meant something completely different. Arthur still blushes red hot, and feels too big in his clothes when he remembers the way it gasped from Merlin’s mouth, the way Merlin was splayed under him. He still grins like a drunken fool when he thinks of all that pale skin just for him, tucked under rough servant clothes, but silky smooth when he finally touches it.
When Arthur barks out a command, everyone takes it at face value, hardly worth noting. Merlin hears the underlying laughter or pleading or tears.
“Get out of my sight,” Arthur snaps, and Merlin hears “Give me a moment, before I laugh in front of the king.”
“Close the curtains,” Arthur grunts, and Merlin hears “Stay, at least until I fall asleep and I can slip away into my dreams.”
“I need the bed turned down,” Arthur said, and Merlin heard “I need you, please, let me have this.”
Merlin didn’t hesitate, not when Arthur looked so young and frightened, not when Arthur’s eyes glowed black in the firelight and his skin glowed pink with desire and embarrassment both. Sometimes he still daydreams about it when he goes about his chores, and he needs to plunge his hands in the cool wash water to burn away the heated flush it brings to his cheeks. The taste of Arthur’s skin, the feel of hard muscles under questing fingers. Power and trust and worship.
Everyone else sees a smack to the back of Merlin’s head and a mumbled curse in Arthur’s direction. Arthur and Merlin see it as it is, as an embrace and a promise. To them, it’s love.
Author: justthismorning
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Summary: To everyone else, it's the prince and his manservant. To them, it's something very different.
A/N: I was going to write something else, something very different. But as usual my brain hijacked itself and so we now have this instead.
To everyone else, the words mean “prat” and “idiot.” To Merlin and Arthur they mean “kiss me” and “I love you” and “forever.”
When everyone else hears him say “Sire” they hear respect and Merlin’s rightful place in the grand scheme. Arthur understands it as it is meant - each time different according to the circumstances.
“Yes Sire,” Merlin says, and Arthur hears “Be nice to me, I know all your ticklish spots.”
“I’m sorry, Sire,” Merlin says, and Arthur hears “You can’t possibly know how much I loathe you right now.”
“Sire?” Merlin said, and Arthur heard “Tell me you need me. Tell me you want this as much as I do.”
Arthur didn’t tell him, he showed him, and then the next Sire out of Merlin’s mouth meant something completely different. Arthur still blushes red hot, and feels too big in his clothes when he remembers the way it gasped from Merlin’s mouth, the way Merlin was splayed under him. He still grins like a drunken fool when he thinks of all that pale skin just for him, tucked under rough servant clothes, but silky smooth when he finally touches it.
When Arthur barks out a command, everyone takes it at face value, hardly worth noting. Merlin hears the underlying laughter or pleading or tears.
“Get out of my sight,” Arthur snaps, and Merlin hears “Give me a moment, before I laugh in front of the king.”
“Close the curtains,” Arthur grunts, and Merlin hears “Stay, at least until I fall asleep and I can slip away into my dreams.”
“I need the bed turned down,” Arthur said, and Merlin heard “I need you, please, let me have this.”
Merlin didn’t hesitate, not when Arthur looked so young and frightened, not when Arthur’s eyes glowed black in the firelight and his skin glowed pink with desire and embarrassment both. Sometimes he still daydreams about it when he goes about his chores, and he needs to plunge his hands in the cool wash water to burn away the heated flush it brings to his cheeks. The taste of Arthur’s skin, the feel of hard muscles under questing fingers. Power and trust and worship.
Everyone else sees a smack to the back of Merlin’s head and a mumbled curse in Arthur’s direction. Arthur and Merlin see it as it is, as an embrace and a promise. To them, it’s love.