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“You’ve been keeping something from me, Merlin.” Arthur announced one night just as Merlin was just about to take his leave.
“What?” He turned sharply where Arthur was sat at his desk, panicking for a moment that the Prince had figured him out, before rationalising that he couldn’t have.
Arthur’s tone was teasing and certain, like he already knew what his manservant was ‘keeping’ from him, but Merlin was sure he didn’t.
No, if Arthur knew about his magic the guards would have already appeared to drag him away. He might have even already been in the dungeons.
The Prince’s eyes lit up at his incriminating reaction anyway and Arthur smiled smugly because he’d caught Merlin out. It really was infuriating that Arthur took so much pleasure in teasing others.
“Keeping something from me,” Arthur repeated, like he thought his manservant hadn’t heard him. “I think you’re keeping a secret.”
Merlin thought it was unbefitting of a future King to enjoy tormenting his subjects and hated the way Arthur was grinning childishly at him like he had something to hold over his head. He absolutely didn’t find the playful, arrogant glint in the prince’s eyes endearing, but he could understand how other people might be attracted to it, hypothetically.
“Well, you’re not known for being a very sharp thinker, are you?” He tried to deflect. Merlin was still vaguely anxious that Arthur was beginning to suspect there was something he wasn’t being told. There were many reasons that it was important for Merlin’s magic to remain a secret, the main one being that he wanted to survive long enough to eat some dinner that night.
Arthur huffed and stood up. “Well, I’m certainly sharp enough to figure out that you’ve been hiding something.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” Merlin defended quickly, trying to keep his voice light and unsuspecting as he watched Arthur round the table and approach him. “I’ve told you before: I’m an open book.”
“And I’ve told you before,” Arthur stared, walking slowly to Merlin with seemingly no intent to stop. “I don’t believe you.”
His voice carried the same certainly that he’d started this conversation with, and Merlin couldn’t help but glance down to a sword balanced carefully on a nearby wall and easily within Arthur’s reach. Merlin tried to remind himself that if the prince knew, he’d be dead already, but that didn’t stop his chest constricting as Arthur finally stopped in front of him, too close to be casual.
“I don’t think most people would be able to figure it out,” Arthur told him in a lowered, satisfied voice, “But I know what to look for, you see. I know how people hide it.”
He knew. Merlin was sure of it. Arthur had been taught to hunt sorcerers since he was a kid, and he wasn’t going to remain oblivious forever. In that moment he really did hate the way Arthur was drawing this out, playing with him. Merlin knew he could never hurt Arthur, so if the prince brought this to a fight, Merlin knew where his fate lied.
“Arthur,” he pleaded, stepping back towards the closed door behind him, “I’m sorry, I can explain.”
For some reason, that made Arthur grin again, though the smug tilt of it was somewhat undercut by relief and joy and the same pride the prince showed when he’d just won a duel. He smiled like this was just their normal banter, like he was enjoying watching Merlin squirm from his careful taunts.
“There’s no need for that, Merlin,” Arthur told him, “I already know what you’re hiding.”
Merlin swallowed and waited for him to come out with it, for the truth of his magic to be laid bare between them.
“You,” Arthur began pointedly, “are a sodomite.”
In the few seconds it took Merlin to process the linguistic distinction between sorcerer and sodomite his mouth had already jumped two steps ahead of him and admitted, “yes.”
Then, when Merlin finally realised Arthur had jumped to the wrong conclusion, he said again, firmer, “yes! A sodomite. I… like men.”
Merlin knew that being attracted to other men was not much less punishable than practicing magic, but it felt safer to admit to, because he wasn’t actually a sodomite.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Merlin dug himself into the lie further, not even processing Arthur’s reaction, “I just didn’t know how you’d react, and I didn’t want to risk losing my job and-”
Before Merlin could finish his rambling testimony, Arthur was quite suddenly pushing him up against the door and, after only a second's hesitation, roughly kissing him. Merlin loathed to admit it wasn’t the worst kiss he’d ever had.
Arthur pulled away after only a moment, during which, in his shock, Merlin could do nothing but let the prince kiss him, and grinned at his manservant. “You’re not going to lose your job Merlin.”
Which is when it clicked. I know what to look for. I know how people hide it. Arthur liked men. The kiss probably should have clued him into that.
The prince leaned in to kiss him again and Merlin turned his head, “wait, Arthur stop.”
Arthur, for his part, did stop when Merlin asked him and after searching his manservant’s face for a moment, stepped away.
“I’m sorry,” Merlin told him, “I just- I don’t like you like that.”
“But I thought you said-”
“Just because I like men, doesn’t mean I like you,” Merlin interrupted, though he was breathing heavily from their kiss and probably didn’t look very convincing.
“What do you mean you don’t like me?” Arthur pulled an offended expression that Merlin was very familiar with and gestured down at himself. “What’s not to like?”
Merlin laughed at his arrogance and hoped it didn’t hurt Arthur’s feelings. It didn’t seem to as the prince huffed indignantly, “come on, what about all our flirty banter?”
“Flirty?” Merlin asked, grinning like a madman at the realisation that Arthur liked him, Arthur was attracted to him.
Arthur levelled him with an unamused stare. “Oh Arthur, I could take you apart with less than one blow!”
Merlin laughed, that was not what he had meant. “Sire! I didn’t know you had such a dirty mind.”
“You also told me you’re happy to be my servant till the day you die!” Arthur reminded him. “How was I supposed to interpret that?”
“As a very friendly thing to say,” Merlin told him sternly, though his wide smile must have clued the prince in to the tease.
“Right, because friends drink poison for each other all the time.” Arthur sighed dragged a hand down his face. “Well, what don’t you like about me then?”
“What?”
“Come one, Merlin,” Arthur insisted. “You like men, and an objectively attractive man is interested in you: why won’t you sleep with me?”
Merlin’s mind helpfully locked onto the thought of sleeping with Arthur and he froze for a moment, before recovering his sense of humour. “Well, I wouldn’t say objectively attractive. I’ve seen far more beautiful men than-”
“Merlin!”
“Fine!” Merlin said, “fine I-”
He cut himself off suddenly because for a person who wasn’t attracted to Arthur, or any men for that matter, Merlin was finding it weirdly difficult to come up with any reason that he wouldn’t want to sleep with the prince other than: if you knew I had magic, you’d be disgusted you ever wanted to touch me.
He couldn’t very well say that.
“I don’t like…” he began again, desperately searching for some reason a person wouldn’t like Camelot’s golden boy, before remembering exactly who he was thinking about, “I don’t like arrogant prats that boss people around all day and think everyone’s in love with them just because they’re the prince.”
“Well, that’s very specific,” Arthur scowled.
“Sorry, I can’t help what I’m not attracted to.”
“I think you’re lying,” the prince said accusingly, “I think you do like me; you’re just being difficult like always!”
“Oh, I promise you that’s not what this is,” Merlin told him and was unable to smother the knowing smirk that spread across his face.
“You know,” Arthur angrily pointed at him, “most people would be honoured to have kissed me!”
“Most people haven’t met you,” he fired back quickly. “I don’t think all your adoring maidens would be so eager to jump into bed with you after you forced them to clean the same stable three days in a row.”
“You didn’t do it right the first times!” Arthur snapped back, then huffed. “I don’t know why I even kissed you! Clearly, you’re nothing but an utter buffoon with no redeeming qualities.”
“Ah! But you thought I was attractive enough to sleep with,” Merlin reminded him. “So, who’s the buffoon now?”
“Right. I’ve had enough of you,” Arthur said sternly, “get out.”
Merlin turned and opened the door, flashing Arthur a tensing smile before he left. “Are you gonna have a wank about that kiss?”
“Out!” Arthur ordered and Merlin cackled as he left.
:.:.:
Unfortunately for Merlin, the events of that night stuck with him, and after two days of accidentally noticing that Arthur was, in fact, quite objectively attractive, he came to the conclusion that he was both a sorcerer and sodomite.
Which was brilliant, because Merlin had been thinking maybe he just wasn’t as at risk of being executed as he could have been. Yeah, he really needed two secrets that he could be legally killed for if the right people found out.
At least he knew Arthur didn’t particularly care about him being attracted to men. It would have been quite hypocritical for him to have Merlin executed for a crime the prince himself was guilty of.
For Merlin, the more horrifying aspect of the whole situation was that, despite the abnormally high number of strong, capable, attractive knights he spent time around, the sorcerer had developed a particular interest in one Arthur Pendragon.
He blamed this entirely on Arthur for being the first man he ever kissed, because Merlin was sure if it hadn’t happened, he never would have looked twice at the the arrogant prat in that way, or his gorgeous eyes or shiny golden blond hair or his sort-of-nice-if-you-squint arse.
The problem was, as it stood, Merlin had suddenly realised that the man he’d seen almost every day for the past year was ridiculously handsome and that maybe the sorcerer’s unwavering loyalty and devotion to him wasn’t as platonic as he’d thought.
That became an even bigger problem three days after Arthur’s… seduction attempt? When Uther decided that his son should hold court for the day, in preparation for when he was king.
It had happened once before, and Merlin had been forced to gather all of Arthur’s fancy prince-like clothes, and comb back his hair and help adjust his circlet to sit properly on his head. The issue that time, however, was that Arthur looked gorgeous in his royal outfit and if Merlin hadn’t been sure of his gender preference the past two days, Arthur smiling at him with a crown on his head definitely cleared some things up.
“What? Is it not on straight?” He was grinning and Merlin wanted to hit him.
“Hm?” He asked before shaking his head and meeting Arthur’s gaze. “What? No, no it’s good. You look… good.”
Arthur’s smile turned gleeful and smug, and he opened his mouth to say something, probably mean and teasing and arrogant but Uther entered before he got the chance.
“Well, you certainly look the part,” the king said approvingly.
Arthur smiled respectfully and nodded his head slightly. “Thank you, father. Merlin here was just telling me that same thing.”
Uther’s eyes met Merlin’s briefly and the usual fear that shot through him felt almost tripled. Merlin had feelings for the prince, worse Merlin was a man who had feelings for the prince and worse still Merlin was a man who had feelings for the prince and was also the most powerful sorcerer to ever live.
That had to be so many levels of treason. Uther frowned at him before looking back to Arthur. “Yes, well, you are remarkably tolerant of his servants… chatty nature.”
“Oh, don’t worry, he tells me off for it all the time,” Merlin said, because he just couldn’t help himself and tried not to shrink under the confused stares of two Pendragons. “More than I deserve I’d say. I mean, I would complain about it but… I don’t think they’d listen to me in court.”
He flashed them a smile whilst internally cursing his mouth for running a mile a minute, but then Uther let out a short but genuine laugh that seem to surprise Arthur just as much as it did Merlin.
“Well, the idiot clearly has a sense of humour,” the king acknowledged before turning to leave. “I’ll see you in the throne room in a moment. Oh, and Arthur?”
“Yes father?”
“Fix your crown, it’s crooked,” Uther said before closing the door behind him and for a moment all Merlin could think was: Arthur’s kissed me pushed up against that door.
“You moron!” Arthur rounded on him. “You told me it was fine!”
“It must have fell when we were talking!” Merlin defended as Arthur blindly adjusted the circlet.
“I don’t believe that for one minute,” the prince scoffed. “And you should make jokes in front of the King.”
“Uther laughed,” Merlin defended.
Arthur let his hands drop and gave his manservant a very pointed look. “Don’t call the king Uther.”
Merlin chuckled and moved forwards, close into the prince’s space, to help fix the crown and was reminded of just how stunning Arthur looked in the thing.
“Maybe,” Merlin started, “you shouldn’t tell your father, the king, that a servant was commenting on how you look.”
The prince's eyes flickered around Merlin’s face as he adjusted the circlet and when he went to step back Arthur grabbed him by the hips and held him there.
“Arthur,” Merlin warned.
“You like it,” Arthur commented, with his usual amount of unfounded confidence, “I saw you looking at me, wearing the crown.”
“Well, it’s a very nice crown.”
Arthur hummed, “and it’s attached to a very nice head, with very nice lips.”
“Arthur,” Merlin said again, but didn’t get any further as the prince closed the distance between them and kissed Merlin again.
It was equally as not-terrible as their first kiss and Merlin found himself leaning into it, kissing back for a moment before remembering himself.
Arthur wouldn’t want this he knew his manservant was magic.
Merlin pushed moved his hands to Arthur’s shoulder and pushed him back, tried not to get distracted by how he looked, freshly kissed and slightly breathless.
“Sorry,” he said hurriedly, taking a couple of steps back to put some distance between them, “I’ve uh, actually got a thing about nobility, I’m not really into the whole power dynamic thing.”
“Well, you seemed pretty into-” Arthur cut himself off and huffed. “You say that as though any nobleman would ever be interested in you.”
“Well, you’re clearly interested, so maybe it’s not that unreasonable,” Merlin told him. “It doesn’t matter though, like I said, I don’t really like my partners having power over me.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, “like I’ve ever had the power to make you do anything.”
“We’re going to be late,” Merlin changed the subject, “but, uh, you should probably fix your crown again.”
“Merlin.”
:.:.:
As it turned out, Merlin’s sudden interest in Arthur was unfortunately not the result of some kind of terrible curse or mental infliction. No, unfortunately his affections ran far deeper than that.
He came to that realisation one night after dreaming of Arthur, which wasn’t exactly a new experience in the week following their first kiss, but that one was different. Arthur was falling, falling quickly and also not going anywhere. Merlin knew he was going to hit the ground any minute, but he’d have to watch it and he couldn’t save him. He woke Gaius with how loud he screamed Arthur’s name as he woke up.
Luckily, Gaius attributed the dream to Merlin being stressed about his destiny and told him it wasn’t uncommon for knights to dream of the people they were meant to protect dying. Merlin let him think that was all there was to it and when the Physician left, he lay back on his bed and tried to come to terms with the fact that he was in love with Arthur Pendragon… and had been for some time.
Looking back, he felt stupid for not noticing how much he cared bout Arthur sooner. His life is worth a hundred of mine, he’d told Nimueh, and he hadn’t even been thinking of Arthur’s destiny. His life was worth more, just because Merlin believed it was, because he’d rather die and know Arthur would live than continue on in a world without him. Because Merlin was in love with the crown prince of Camelot.
So, he had that going for him.
It was worse that, if he were a more selfish person, Merlin knew he could have Arthur at any moment. The prince liked him well enough and had made it clear he wanted to sleep with him. Merlin figured if he just slept with Arthur enough, he might be able to make the prat fall in love with him too. But that would hurt them both so much more when Merlin inevitably revealed his magic, either intentionally or because Arthur wasn’t stupid, and the sorcerer’s luck was bound to run out eventually.
So, he couldn’t sleep with Arthur.
Which was something he had to firmly remind himself of later that day, when Arthur threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly at some dumb thing Merlin had said. The prince had spontaneously decided they were going riding, so they did.
The forest was lush and green, and Merlin tried not to compare the beauty of spring to Arthur, because he already knew who’d win.
When they reached a path, coming out of the dense forest, Arthur turned to Merlin and grinned. “How about a race?”
“A race?” Merlin asked, his sense of competitiveness intrigued by the idea of a fair challenge for once. He was just as good at horse riding as Arthur and didn’t have to hold himself back.
“Yes, I think that might be in order,” Arthur confirmed and pointed down the path. “Let’s say to the crossroad.”
“I don’t know,” Merlin told him, “You’re hard to deal with when you’re nursing a wounded pride.”
Arthur reached over to slap Merlin over the back of the head, but the hit was light and intentionally teasing. “Right, after three.”
Merlin took a deep breath and steadied himself.
“One,” Arthur began, “two, three!”
And the prince shot off. Merlin quickly spurred his horse into action and raced after Arthur.
“You said after three,” he yelled the moment he got close, and Arthur laughed again and gods he was too beautiful for his own good.
They were, as Merlin suspected, fairly evenly matched. Both horses were esteemed breeds specifically given to Camelot’s stables as valuable gifts from two different kingdoms.
At about halfway, Arthur overtook him slightly, and when he was a few passes ahead Merlin had to watch in horror as Arthur yelled and took a dive off his mare. He hadn’t even fully seen what happened, one moment Arthur was fine and winning, then suddenly he was falling, falling like in Merlin’s dream.
The sorcerer’s heart lurched painfully in a way it had so many times before, except that time he understood why.
Merlin pulled his reigns tightly and halted his horse, who reared up at the sudden stop but had already past where Arthur had fallen. He dismounted quickly and ran to the prince, who’d landed off the path and into the overgrown grass at its side. Merlin’s panic only doubled when he saw Arthur, laying motionless on the ground.
“No, no Arthur!” Merlin yelled as he approached. “No, gods, Arthur are you okay?”
No reply came and Merlin dropped to his knees by the prince’s side. “No, no, n-”
Arthur’s mouth seemed to stretch into a grin against his will and he wheezed out a laugh.
“You prat,” Merlin said when he realised, then repeated more firmly, “you prat!”
He whacked Arthur in the chest and the prince laughed louder so Merlin hit him again. “I thought you were dead, you complete, utter dollophead!”
“My, my Merlin,” Arthur teased through his cackles, “who knew you cared about me this much?”
“I don’t!” Merlin insisted, hitting him again for good measure. “I don’t like prats who fall off horses on purpose so they can laugh at me after faking their own death like a bloody stupid possum!”
The sorcerer hit Arthur one more time, before the prince managed to grab him and flip them over, so he was laying on top of Merlin, keeping his wrists in place. Merlin couldn’t help but notice just how fond Arthur’s self-satisfied smile looked.
He let Arthur kiss him, with all that smugness and all that fondness, but not for long before turning his head pointedly.
The prince gave a frustrated sigh but let him up anyway. “I don’t get it Merlin; you clearly like me. Why not just let me…”
Merlin levelled him with the most serious look he could muster up. “I’m not into possums, Arthur.”
The prince laughed and Merlin counted it as a win.
:.:.:
The next night, Arthur asked Merlin to draw him a bath, which had to be one of his least favourite chores. It was so tedious, carrying bucket after bucket of water up the stairs to Arthur’s chambers, and so course the prat had to have his room on the highest floor. It took upwards of seven to eight trips, and he usually couldn’t use magic, because completing a task that would take anyone else the best part of an hour to finish would just be slightly too suspicious to have done in seconds. Arthur was often not the most… observant person in the world, but instant baths were something that might just push the limits of his suspension of disbelief.
When the wooden tub was finally full, Merlin could use magic to warm both the water and the hot stones beneath bath. Well, only if Arthur wasn’t looking, which he was, that night.
It was unsettling, to say the least, to have the prince's eyes tracking his every movement as he moved stones from the fireplace to the compartment underneath the bathtub. It was infuriating because Merlin was making a fool of himself, constantly dropping the stones, because he never normally had to do that.
Worst of all, it was distracting, because Arthur was wearing nothing but a drying cloth around his waist and as much as Merlin hated to admit it, he had a very nice chest. Which Arthur knew and was using to his advantage to be a prat.
“May I take my leave, sire?” Merlin asked with a tight smile when he was eventually finished.
Arthur pushed off the table he was leaning on a strode towards Merlin. “No. I’ll need your help to wash my back.”
“What can’t reach it by yourself?” Merlin asked pointedly. “You’ve never needed my help with that before.”
“No, but it is one of your duties,” Arthur said sternly, “and I do expect you to do your job.”
“Pretty sure the Stewart never mentioned helping you bathe as one of my duties,” Merlin told him and turned his head away quickly as the prince dropped the cloth and slipped into the bath, thanking the gods that the water was cloudy with steam.
“Well, no,” Arthur conceded. “But it is your responsibility to assist me in any way I require without complaint, though I know that last bit might be a bit difficult for you.”
He was smirking when Merlin looked back at him and the sorcerer couldn’t help but scowl. “This is an abuse of power.”
“Good thing you're not into that sort of thing then,” Arthur shot back and then waved his hand in the direction of a washcloth. Merlin huffed and mumbled to himself but ultimately went to fetch the cloth and rounded the tub to kneel behind Arthur.
He dunked the cloth into the water and made sure to splash Arthur as he did so, smirking at the prince’s complaints.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” Merlin told him as he began roughly scrubbing Arthur’s back, trying to make it as unpleasant as possible.
“Ah! Merlin,” the prince complained before grounding out, “and what am I trying to do?”
“Get me to wash you down all sensually,” he mocked, “that’s your game, isn’t it?”
“I don’t believe you’ve ever done anything sensually your whole life,” Arthur scoffed, and Merlin dragged the cloth down his back harshly in response. “Merlin, stop that!”
The prince turned suddenly and snatched the cloth out of his hands. Merlin held his furious stare for a moment in defiance before glancing down to Arthur’s chest involuntarily and having to snap his gaze back up.
The prince saw the brief slip up and sighed, the anger bleeding out of him suddenly. “You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be. It’s very… like you.”
“I’m not making it hard, Arthur,” Merlin said, trying to sound resolute, “I’m telling you no.”
“But I know you don’t mean that.”
Merlin rolled his eyes, “how do you know?”
Arthur brought both hands up to Merlin’s face and pulled him gently into a kiss, and the softness of the gesture made the sorcerers heart melt, just a little.
“Because you keep letting me do that,” the prince explained when he pulled back. “Is it- do you already have someone?”
Merlin had to pause for a moment at the vulnerability of Arthur’s question, not teasing or half-jokingly offended, but genuine and anxious about how he’d answer.
Arthur seemed to realise what he’d said and tried to cover it with a cough. He went to say something, but Merlin spoke first, “no, I don’t have anyone. It’s not like many guys would be interested in me.”
“I am you utter moron!” Arthur told him. “I’d pull you into this bath with me right now if you weren’t so…”
“Uninterested?” Merlin supplied for him with a tilt of his head.
“Stubborn,” Arthur corrected sternly. “So, what is it then? What do you like in a man?”
Merlin hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, trying to come up with something other than: you, you’re exactly what I want in a man.
“Listen, Arthur,” he began, “you’re just not my type. I like guys, who are, I don’t know, more sensitive.”
“Sensitive?”
Merlin hummed. “Yes, I know that must be a hard concept for you. I like someone who can be kind, not too arrogant or aggressive, someone gentle.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow like he wasn’t at all believing Merlin’s preferences.
Merlin’s eyes flickered across Arthur’s face. “And I don’t like blonds.”
The prince huffed and turned his back on Merlin again. “You can go, I don’t know why I even bother.”
Merlin swallowed and looked to the door, then took the cloth back out of Arthur’s hand. “Let me help with this first, I don’t like to leave a task unfinished.”
And while he absolutely didn’t wash Arthur down sensually, Merlin was careful to be gentle and slow.
:.:.:
After that, Merlin thought it might be best for him to start looking at other men. It might not change the fact that he was hopelessly in love with Arthur, but it could act as a nice distraction to help cope with having to constantly say no to something he desperately wanted.
Expect it didn’t work. Not even a little bit, not at all.
If anything, trying to look at other guys only intensified everything Merlin felt for Arthur. Every man either fell completely short of the prince, despite Arthur’s unfortunate personality, or just reminded him of everything he loved about him.
Merlin was starting to think the whole thing between them was just a product of their shared destiny, like being two sides of the same coin made them more susceptible to unwanted desire and worse, romantic inclination.
The whole game of cat and mouse came to a head less than two weeks after it had begun, at a mediocre feast. From what Merlin could gather, there was no particular reason for the feast other than Uther was in the mood for one, but Arthur had taken the opportunity to get spectacularly, roaringly drunk.
It got to a point where Merlin had attempted to refuse the prince more wine from his pitcher and been told, very sternly, that he wasn’t allowed to stop Arthur from drinking when he was the reason he was drinking in the first place. Which felt like an unfair distribution of blame, but Merlin knew Arthur was past being reasoned with.
Ultimately, Uther had grabbed Merlin by his neckerchief and ordered him in an angry but quite voice to get Arthur the hell out of the hall before he embarrassed himself anymore.
Merlin had been happy to do so, right up untill he was alone with Arthur in his chambers and reminded that the very drunk prince had been trying to seduce him for the best part of two weeks.
When Arthur looked at Merlin with those big eyes of his, so full of unhidden desire that the sorcerer had to take a step back, he said, “Arthur, please don’t try anything.”
He regretted the words immediately where instead of bantering back or attempting to seduce him, Arthur just broke down in tears.
“Gods, Arthur, I shouldn’t have let you drink this much,” Merlin told him as he quickly moved to pull the prince into a hug. “You’re alright, Arthur, everything feels worse when you’re drunk.”
Arthur mumbled something unintelligible through his sobs and Merlin just shushed him gently and led him to the bed. He stripped Arthur down to just his trousers and undershirt and decided it was best to leave it at that for the night rather than change him into night clothes. Then, Merlin got the prince to lie down, and perched on the edge of the large bed to give Arthur a glass of water and push his hair out of his face to check for a temperature.
“I’m sorry I’m drunk,” Arthur mumbled as he leaned into the touch.
Merlin gave an amused huff and smiled. “I didn’t know you knew how to say sorry.”
It was the wrong thing to say because Arthur stared crying again and Merlin couldn’t help but pull him tightly into his arms.
“I’m not sensitive like you want me to be,” he said nonsensically into Merlin’s shoulder and the sorcerer heart broke a little bit.
“Oh, Arthur, I don’t-”
“I know you like me,” the prince said. “I just don’t understand why I’m not good enough.”
“Arthur,” Merlin said again, because he didn’t know what else to say. Arthur was good, he was the best man Merlin had ever met and if he had to be tied to someone with the unbreakable chains of destiny for the rest of his life, he’d rather it be Arthur than anyone in the world.
“Tell me, please,” Arthur asked, and his voice was so soft, and Merlin caved.
“For gods sake Arthur,” he tried to snap but found his voice matching the prince’s softness. “It’s not about you.”
“I don’t understand.”
Merlin pulled away from Arthur and looked into his sad blue eyes as he admitted, “I just don’t want to hurt you.”
Arthur pulled an involuntary facial expression. “Well, I’m fairly sure you’d be the one on the receiving-”
Merlin cut him off with a laugh, then smiled at his drunk prince. “That’s not quite what I meant.”
“You’re all I think about Merlin,” Arthur told him, and Merlin knew he wouldn’t be saying anything if he were sober. “It’s not just- I don’t just want you because you’re nearby and pretty and attracted to men. Without you I feel like a part of me is missing Merlin.”
Maybe it was destiny, Merlin thought, because there was no way someone like Arthur could feel like that for him unless fate was having its way with the prince. At least the sorcerer could explain why he felt inevitably tied to Arthur, he couldn’t imagine the prince experiencing that intense emotion without some kind of reason.
“I feel the same,” Merlin found himself admitting. “Gods Arthur, when you kiss me, I feel completely whole in a way I… normally don’t.”
Arthur leaned in to kiss him and Merlin stopped him quickly, though the prince did manage to peck his lips.
“Stay with me,” Arthur ordered, but it sounded like a plea. “Just for tonight, Merlin, please.”
“You’re drunk, Arthur,” the sorcerer reminded him, “I don’t sleep with drunk people, you can’t consent.”
“I consent,” Arthur argued, “I’ve consented since you first stepped foot in Camelot.”
Merlin chuckled, remembering their aggressive first meeting. “Well, I’m not quite sure that true.”
“I think I fell in love with you then and there,” Arthur said, and the word love blossomed in Merlin’s mind like an uncontrollable rampage of wildflowers. “I didn’t mean to be intimate, anyway, I just want you here. I always want you here.”
“I’ll stay,” Merlin told him, because he was a weak man. “But if I wake up to you wanking on me, we’re gonna have some issues.”
Arthur laughed and Merlin leaned down to take off his shoes. He took off his neckerchief and belt and left them on Arthur’s bedside table but left the rest of his clothes on. The prince was asleep by the time Merlin had rounded the bed and crawled under the covers on the other side and the sorcerer watched the gentle rise and fall of his breathing for a long time before drifting off himself.
:.:.:
“Tell me I didn’t,” Merlin came to at the should of Arthur’s paniced voice and rough hands shaking him awake. “Merlin, tell me I didn’t.”
“Arthur, what?” Merlin asked drowsily before groaning and turning away from the prince. “You’re bed’s too soft. Let me sleep.”
A pillow hit him across the face and Merlin sat up suddenly to glare at Arthur. “Hey! What was that for?”
“Merlin,” Arthur shut him up quickly, looking worked up and uncharacteristically afraid, “please tell me I didn’t take you by force like an absolute brute.”
“What?” Merlin asked, then clued in to what it might look like to the prince to wake up next to his manservant, who he’d been unsuccessfully trying to seduce for the past week and in love with for who knows how long, after getting so drunk his father kicked him out of a feast.
“No!” He said quickly. “You didn’t do anything! We didn’t do anything. You asked me to stay with you and thought it was for the best to make sure you didn’t accidentally kill yourself in your sleep, you were so drunk.”
Arthur froze for a moment, pillow still raised in the air like he was considering another strike. Then the prince's brow furrowed, and Merlin guessed he was piecing together him memories from the events of the previous night.
Merlin could tell the exact moment he remembered their talk, because Arthur was quite suddenly burying his face in the pillow he’d been wielding and groaning.
The sorcerer chuckled. “Well, I did tell you to stop drinking.”
Arthur let out another muffled, mortified moan. “And I told you I was drinking because of you!”
“Yeah,” Merlin drew our slowly. “On the plus side, I think everyone around us assumed it was because I’m such an annoying servant, not because im, you know, refusing to sleep with you.”
“Gods,” Arthur removed his face from the pillow to stare up at the ceiling, “we were in public. I could have gotten us both killed.”
Merlin hesitated to response to that, before settling on, “Arthur I’m sure your father wouldn’t kill you for being a sodomite. I mean, I don’t think he’d be thrilled about it either, but I know he wouldn’t kill you for it.”
“But it would kill me to watch him kill you,” Arthur said, and Merlin blinked at him.
He could die any day. One wrong move, one careless spell and Merlin’s head was on the chopping block. He couldn’t quite take the weight of the fact that he’d hurt Arthur if that happened, that his prince’s peace of mind could be ruined by Merlin’s reckless habits that he just couldn’t seem to shake.
Worst of all, Arthur would probably feel more betrayal than grief. He’d fee the pain of losing someone he loved but it would be so much worse because he’d regret loving Merlin in the first place.
Merlin didn’t realise he was crying until he heard Arthur apologising profusely. “Merlin, I’m sorry. I know- what I said last night, that was too much, it wasn’t fair, to tell you that. Or to say what I’ve said now.”
“No Arthur-” Merlin cut himself off and wiped the tears furiously from his eyes. “I get it, we all say stupid things when we’re drunk.”
“I didn’t mean to go too fast,” Arthur lamented in frustration, seemingly talking to himself more than Merlin. “I mean, you haven’t even agreed to sleep with me yet, and I was starting to think you were never going to and then… well, then I went and told you I love you and I’m just- sorry. I’m sorry.”
“I love you too,” the sorcerer said accidentally, because his mouth liked to talk before he could veto what he was saying, and because Merlin was an idiot.
“Then why?” Arthur asked, somewhere between a demand and a cry of confusion. “Why can’t you just let us have this? Why are you keeping this from me?”
“Because you’re right,” Merlin told him. “I am keeping something from you, something a lot worse than being a sodomite and something that would make you regret every single kiss you’ve given me and can’t tell you, because I can’t lose you. But I also couldn’t let you take me to bed like you wouldn’t hate me if-”
Arthur cut Merlin’s panicked rant off with a firm, long kiss that the sorcerer was powerless to pull away from. Arthur loved him and he loved Arthur, and it was their destiny to be together, but he knew Arthur wouldn’t want him if he knew.
“I could never hate you Merlin,” Arthur told him when he eventually had to pull away for air. “Believe me I’ve tried, I’ve torn you apart in my head hinders of times looking for something to hate so that I could just get over this but there’s nothing. I can’t get over you, I feel like we’re meant to be together.”
“Like we’re two sides of the same coin,” Merlin suggested, and Arthur beamed.
“You feel it too.”
Merlin pulled away from Arthur and moved away from him. He couldn’t hide his magic any longer, it wasn’t fair to either of them, even if losing Arthur would hurt Merlin in a way he might never recover from, he had to tell him.
The sorcerer sighed. “I love you, Arthur, and I need you to know that.”
Merlin clasped his hands tightly together before Arthur could response and stared intently at his hands as he whispered a spell. He saw the prince flinch when his eyes glowed golden and Merlin tried not to let it sting as he opened his hands to reveal a large, red marigold. Merlin let it fall to the sheets between them as he looked up into Arthur’s wild, scared eyes.
“I have magic,” Merlin told him and trained his eyes on the flower so he didn’t have to see Arthur’s reaction. “I was born with it; I can’t remember I time when I couldn’t use it. I never meant to lie to you, there is so much good that can be done with magic, and I’ve wanted to show you it longer than I can say, but I was so afraid you’d have me killed. It is my destiny to protect you, Arthur, and to help you become the greatest king Albion will ever know and I love you more than I knew I was capable of loving. I couldn’t bare to leave your side, but if you never want to see me again, I can understand if you want me executed.”
Merlin left the air in his lungs give out as Arthur lunged at him and pulled him into a tight hug.
“Didn’t you hear me, you idiot?” Arthur hissed in his ear. “It would kill me to watch you die.”
“Even though I’m a sorcerer?” Merlin asked, because he wasn’t quite sure Arthur fully understood what he’d just admitted to.
“Yes,” Arthur insisted, “you’re a good person Merlin and though I hate to admit it you’re one of the best men I’ve ever met. You can’t be evil, not in the way magic is inherently-”
Arthur cut himself off and Merlin tried not to clutch onto his shoulders.
“So maybe it isn’t,” Arthur finished after a moment, and that was all it took for Merlin to break down into uncontrollable sobs.
Arthur held him tightly until he stoped, and the pulled back to kiss Merlin with everything he’d been craving since before the sorcerer had understood what he wanted.
“Arthur,” Merlin said inbetween kissed, “I really like that you’re an arrogant prat, who bosses me around.”
“I know,” Arthur said and stared to kiss down Merlin’s neck.
The sorcerer let out a chocked off noice in the back of his throat. “And I absolutely have a thing for you in your fancy noble outfits.”
Arthur smiled against his jaw. “Even the crown?”
“Especially the crown,” Merlin told him, “and I was so worried about you when you faked your death.”
Arthur pulled back to laugh but didn’t get far before Merlin was yanking him back.
“And I don’t care about sensitive, gentle, caring guys,” Merlin continued as he peppered kissed to the corner of Arthur’s mouth. “I love it when you you tease me, or we banter or flirt and gods I love your hair.”
“So, I don’t have to dye it with leather stain?” Arthur asked with a smirk.
“Absolutely not,” Merlin said then paused, “the last one was true, though. I don’t sleep with drunk people.”
Arthur’s smirk stretched into a grin and he threw one leg over Merlin to straddle himself over the sorcerer’s lap. “Well, I’m not drunk now.”
Merlin grinned. “No you are not.”