Of Princes, Brides, and Fairytale Kisses
Title: Of Princes, Brides, and Fairytale Kisses
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1065
Summary: So maybe Merlin had a thing for fairytales, romance novels, and god-like football players. And maybe the whole school had finally figured that out. But high school drama could never catch up with him at the library... Right?
Warnings/Spoilers: Prep school AU, slash, cheesiness, and liberal borrowing of highly relevant quotes. Hopefully Mr. Goldman won't mind... (Passage set in dialogue and marked with asterisks*.)
Notes: Fic fill for the lovely lil_lollypop36 for this amazing picture. She wonderfully provided her own idea of what she'd drawn, and I took it and ran with it a bit. This fic is my first real LJ post and my first published Merlin fanfic, so I'd very much love to hear your thoughts.
Merlin, no matter what everybody else thought, would not accept the rumor that was running up and down the halls faster than the kindergarteners after lunch. He absolutely was not gay.
Well, technically he did have a crush on the local football star, but no one else knew that. The thing everyone was talking about behind their hands as he walked through the school was his personal choice of reading material.
For the past few years of school, Merlin had frequented the library almost every day. The librarians would smile knowingly whenever he entered, and sometimes they would even pass him a call number slip with the title of a new acquisition. He would nod his thanks and make his way down a familiar track of matted carpet to the section of the library he’d been in love with since he’d first learned how to read.
Due to lack of interest, there were only a few stacks of shelves, though with Merlin’s influence the collection was finally showing signs of expansion. He’d read through every book in the section at least once, and some several times over. He could recite whole passages from his favorites, varying in length from a few sentences to several pages’ worth, and he never tired of them. Today Merlin was looking for one of the best, and with any luck he'd be able to make it last more than his usual two-day reading time.
Merlin skimmed the titles, starting from eye-level and working downwards. Then he looked for it once more, before slowly and reluctantly turning his eyes higher. Sure enough, there it was, on the topmost shelf -- just out of his reach. He tried for it anyways, jumping slightly, fingers spread and stretching, but the blasted book was just the slightest bit too far to wrap his fingertips around. He sighed and turned to look for a stool, only to find that he wasn’t alone between the bookshelves as he’d thought.
There, in all his golden-haired, muscle-toned, toothy-grinned glory, stood Arthur Pendragon.
At the sight of the very man he spent every single one of his dreams with, Merlin did the instinctual thing: he flailed his arms wildly, greeted him with an oh-so-eloquent “Gyahh!” and stumbled back against the bookshelf behind him.
Arthur smiled a cocky, sideways sort of smirk. “Hello to you, too.” He looked him up and down, and Merlin tried his hardest not to be distracted by the way his collarbones peeked out from behind the shirt and tie that hung loose from Arthur's neck.
“Why are you here?” he blurted out.
Arthur inclined his head towards the librarians at the circulation desk. “Some old birds told me where to find you.” Merlin noted the deliberate dodging of his original question, but didn’t mention it. “You trying to get at that book?”
Merlin followed his eyes up to the top shelf. “Oh, er, yeah... That thick one up there. Can’t reach.”
“So it would seem.” Arthur stepped close, teasingly close, and stretched an arm up to retrieve it, before he stopped and withdrew his hand. “The Princess Bride? Really?”
Merlin bristled. “Hey, it’s a good story!”
Arthur was suddenly very serious. “So it’s true then? You really do read fairytales and romance books?”
And he’d hoped the talk had started to die down. “Um... Well, yeah....”
Arthur stepped just the slightest bit closer, until their chests were almost touching. “And what about the other rumors? Are they true as well?”
“Um...” Merlin gulped.
“Do you really fancy me?”
He felt his blood come to a standstill. “They’re really saying that?”
Arthur smirked. “No, but you didn’t deny it.”
For a long few seconds, neither moved, and Merlin knew, just knew that Arthur was about to kiss him, when suddenly he moved and there was an open book between their faces. Merlin stared cross-eyed at the cover of The Princess Bride while Arthur began to read, and felt his face grow hot as he recognized the passage.
*“I have stayed these years in my hovel because of you. I have taught myself languages because of you.”
He was teasing him. He had to be teasing him.
“I have made my body strong because I thought you might be pleased by a strong body. I have lived my life with only the prayer that some sudden dawn you might glance in my direction.”
Arthur Pendragon did not love Merlin. Merlin knew this because Arthur Pendragon was the physical embodiment of everything it meant to be a man -- strength, loyalty, devotion, bravery, chivalry, confidence. Loving Merlin was not one of those things.
But still Arthur continued. “I have not known a moment in years when the sight of you did not send my heart careening against my rib cage. I have not known a night when your visage did not accompany me to sleep. There has not been a morning when you did not flutter behind my waking eyelids--”
Merlin shot a hand up to Arthur’s forearm in an attempt to staunch the flood of false devotion pouring from his lips. Arthur held the book to the side and finished the passage anyway, looking the whole time as if he could see through Merlin’s eyes to read his very thoughts. “Is any of this getting through to you, Merlin, or do you want me to go on for a while?”
Merlin swallowed hard. “Never stop,” he whispered.
“There has not been--”
“If you’re teasing me, Arthur, I’m just going to kill you.”*
He smirked. “I suppose I can understand why you read these.” Then he leaned forward and finally, finally, closed the distance between them to press their lips together.
Merlin took in the calming smell of the well-worn book held so close to their faces and the overpowering scent of Arthur that now surrounded him, and in the fog of lust and triumph and ecstasy another passage sprang to his mind, just a page or so beyond what Arthur had read.
The precise rating of kisses is a terribly difficult thing, often leading to great controversy, because although everyone agrees with the formula of affection times purity times intensity times duration, no one has ever been completely satisfied with how much weight each element should receive. But on any system, there are five that everyone agrees deserve full marks.
Well, this one left them all behind.
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1065
Summary: So maybe Merlin had a thing for fairytales, romance novels, and god-like football players. And maybe the whole school had finally figured that out. But high school drama could never catch up with him at the library... Right?
Warnings/Spoilers: Prep school AU, slash, cheesiness, and liberal borrowing of highly relevant quotes. Hopefully Mr. Goldman won't mind... (Passage set in dialogue and marked with asterisks*.)
Notes: Fic fill for the lovely lil_lollypop36 for this amazing picture. She wonderfully provided her own idea of what she'd drawn, and I took it and ran with it a bit. This fic is my first real LJ post and my first published Merlin fanfic, so I'd very much love to hear your thoughts.
Merlin, no matter what everybody else thought, would not accept the rumor that was running up and down the halls faster than the kindergarteners after lunch. He absolutely was not gay.
Well, technically he did have a crush on the local football star, but no one else knew that. The thing everyone was talking about behind their hands as he walked through the school was his personal choice of reading material.
For the past few years of school, Merlin had frequented the library almost every day. The librarians would smile knowingly whenever he entered, and sometimes they would even pass him a call number slip with the title of a new acquisition. He would nod his thanks and make his way down a familiar track of matted carpet to the section of the library he’d been in love with since he’d first learned how to read.
Due to lack of interest, there were only a few stacks of shelves, though with Merlin’s influence the collection was finally showing signs of expansion. He’d read through every book in the section at least once, and some several times over. He could recite whole passages from his favorites, varying in length from a few sentences to several pages’ worth, and he never tired of them. Today Merlin was looking for one of the best, and with any luck he'd be able to make it last more than his usual two-day reading time.
Merlin skimmed the titles, starting from eye-level and working downwards. Then he looked for it once more, before slowly and reluctantly turning his eyes higher. Sure enough, there it was, on the topmost shelf -- just out of his reach. He tried for it anyways, jumping slightly, fingers spread and stretching, but the blasted book was just the slightest bit too far to wrap his fingertips around. He sighed and turned to look for a stool, only to find that he wasn’t alone between the bookshelves as he’d thought.
There, in all his golden-haired, muscle-toned, toothy-grinned glory, stood Arthur Pendragon.
At the sight of the very man he spent every single one of his dreams with, Merlin did the instinctual thing: he flailed his arms wildly, greeted him with an oh-so-eloquent “Gyahh!” and stumbled back against the bookshelf behind him.
Arthur smiled a cocky, sideways sort of smirk. “Hello to you, too.” He looked him up and down, and Merlin tried his hardest not to be distracted by the way his collarbones peeked out from behind the shirt and tie that hung loose from Arthur's neck.
“Why are you here?” he blurted out.
Arthur inclined his head towards the librarians at the circulation desk. “Some old birds told me where to find you.” Merlin noted the deliberate dodging of his original question, but didn’t mention it. “You trying to get at that book?”
Merlin followed his eyes up to the top shelf. “Oh, er, yeah... That thick one up there. Can’t reach.”
“So it would seem.” Arthur stepped close, teasingly close, and stretched an arm up to retrieve it, before he stopped and withdrew his hand. “The Princess Bride? Really?”
Merlin bristled. “Hey, it’s a good story!”
Arthur was suddenly very serious. “So it’s true then? You really do read fairytales and romance books?”
And he’d hoped the talk had started to die down. “Um... Well, yeah....”
Arthur stepped just the slightest bit closer, until their chests were almost touching. “And what about the other rumors? Are they true as well?”
“Um...” Merlin gulped.
“Do you really fancy me?”
He felt his blood come to a standstill. “They’re really saying that?”
Arthur smirked. “No, but you didn’t deny it.”
For a long few seconds, neither moved, and Merlin knew, just knew that Arthur was about to kiss him, when suddenly he moved and there was an open book between their faces. Merlin stared cross-eyed at the cover of The Princess Bride while Arthur began to read, and felt his face grow hot as he recognized the passage.
*“I have stayed these years in my hovel because of you. I have taught myself languages because of you.”
He was teasing him. He had to be teasing him.
“I have made my body strong because I thought you might be pleased by a strong body. I have lived my life with only the prayer that some sudden dawn you might glance in my direction.”
Arthur Pendragon did not love Merlin. Merlin knew this because Arthur Pendragon was the physical embodiment of everything it meant to be a man -- strength, loyalty, devotion, bravery, chivalry, confidence. Loving Merlin was not one of those things.
But still Arthur continued. “I have not known a moment in years when the sight of you did not send my heart careening against my rib cage. I have not known a night when your visage did not accompany me to sleep. There has not been a morning when you did not flutter behind my waking eyelids--”
Merlin shot a hand up to Arthur’s forearm in an attempt to staunch the flood of false devotion pouring from his lips. Arthur held the book to the side and finished the passage anyway, looking the whole time as if he could see through Merlin’s eyes to read his very thoughts. “Is any of this getting through to you, Merlin, or do you want me to go on for a while?”
Merlin swallowed hard. “Never stop,” he whispered.
“There has not been--”
“If you’re teasing me, Arthur, I’m just going to kill you.”*
He smirked. “I suppose I can understand why you read these.” Then he leaned forward and finally, finally, closed the distance between them to press their lips together.
Merlin took in the calming smell of the well-worn book held so close to their faces and the overpowering scent of Arthur that now surrounded him, and in the fog of lust and triumph and ecstasy another passage sprang to his mind, just a page or so beyond what Arthur had read.
The precise rating of kisses is a terribly difficult thing, often leading to great controversy, because although everyone agrees with the formula of affection times purity times intensity times duration, no one has ever been completely satisfied with how much weight each element should receive. But on any system, there are five that everyone agrees deserve full marks.
Well, this one left them all behind.