The mug slammed down onto the wooden table with a loud clash. Looking in, Arthur could see the contents had been completely drained. "This is going to be a long night, isn't it?" He groaned as he removed his jacket and threw it on the side of the table. It wasn't often that he went down to the tavern but Gwaine and Merlin had convinced him. Why Merlin even went to the tavern was beyond him. That pale petticoat of a girl could barely stand still. Arthur dreaded to think of the result of mead on him. He'd be stumbling all over the place. "Already but considering there is three of us here, Merlin's playing too."
"BU-"
"No buts. I'm not sitting here getting drunk with Gwaine and you here ready to laugh at me in the morning." Arthur could see Gwaine trying to repress a smile out of the corner of his eye. Arthur slid one of the mugs over to Merlin. "So sit down and get this down you."
"Fine, clot pole, but I'm going against you. Gwaine… yeah, no." Arthur rolled his eyes and dragged Merlin by his sleeve into the chair next to his. He could see Merlin staring nervously at the mead in front of him. "God, I hate you."
With that Merlin lifted his mug and started drinking. Arthur watched as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. That stupid neckerchief getting in the way. If Arthur had his way that thing would be the first to go. He never saw his manservant without the blasted thing. Gwaine was staring at Merlin too, a smile tweaking at the sides of his mouth. Not that Arthur really noticed because another loud bang occurred. Merlin stared at him, his big smile plastered on his face in a smug fashion. Even if he hated to admit it, that was impressive. "Right, I won that part. Get it off."
Arthur groaned as he removed another piece of clothing. He knew this was going to a long night.
The three had cleared the tavern long ago. Now sitting in Arthur's chambers with, what seemed to be, an endless supply of mead. Gwaine laid unconscious on the stone cold floor. Everything missing but a sock and a pair of trousers. Arthur stared at Merlin from across the other side of the table, even in his state it surprised him Merlin had gotten this far. Though all those days in the tavern must have helped. That stupid smug was still plastered on as well as that frustrating neckerchief. Arthur wouldn't mind if Merlin had even more clothes off but somehow he still had his trousers on. Whereas Arthur was down to one sock and his shirt.
"Come on, Sire." Merlin smirked. His head slightly swaying. Arthur tried to avoid lowering his gaze to stare at Merlin's bare chest. Instead he pretended to concentrate on the empty mug in front of him. The bastard had done it again. He stared to bend down to remove his sock but the raven haired boy started tutting. "Leave the sock. Shirt."
Reluctantly Arthur peeled off his shirt, leaving him in nothing but his left sock. He couldn't help but ignore the evil grin upon Merlin's fast. So much so he downed the mead in front of him as fast as he could. That sure as hell knocked the grin off Merlin's face because Arthur knew that blasted neckerchief wouldn't be leaving that wonderful neck of his. That fact frustrated Arthur. Sighing Merlin stumbled to his feet trying to remove his trousers. He had almost removed the second leg when he tripped over and landed, face first, on to Arthur's bed. Arthur nearly fell off his chair from laughing.
"You ar- are utterly useless, Merlin." Arthur mattered to speak between the laughter. He lifted himself from his chair and started to hobble towards his bed where his manservant was still laying face down on. He seemed to have forgotten that he had flung one of his shoes over his shoulder and ended up tripping over it. Landing right next to Merlin on the bed, causing the raven haired boy to finally lift his head and burst out in laughter. As if it were infectious Arthur too started laughing.
He didn't know what had come over him but next thing he knew he was leaning into Merlin. He blamed that mouth of his. That smile should be illegal. Especially the lip part. They sort of stuck out, calling Arthur in. Maybe it was just the mead. Then again that neck didn't help. It was cruelty to keep it hidden. Next thing Arthur knew a soft warmth was brushing slightly against his own lips. The taste of mead hung strong. He didn't mind though, he just wanted more. The lips connected to his pulled away, leaving Arthur moaning. "I'm not completely useless, y'know?" That guilty grin spread across the pale man's face again as he leant in again to steal the young king's lips.
Arthur awoke with a splitting head ache. A warm arm was draped across his body. Looking down he saw a fluffy mess of black hair. Memories of last night flooded back into his mind as he glanced a glance over to the table of empty mead jugs. He attempted to laugh but it sent a splitting pain through his head. Arthur closed his eyes again, hoping to blank out the light which wasn't helping at all. He rather enjoyed the warmth of Merlin laying against him. What he did notice, before he closed his eyes, though was that Merlin still had that blasted neckerchief on.
A groan echoed from the other side of the room and then a deep chuckle, forcing Arthur's eyes opening. Slowly rotating his head he spotted Gwaine sitting at the table, slumped over and staring at the bed with a smile tugging at his mouth. Arthur reached for the first thing he could and tried to cover his manhood. Unfortunately that thing turned out to be Merlin's neckerchief, which was yanked off the boy's neck. The raven haired boy groaned, opened his eyes slightly, mumbled and rolled back over to sleep. Arthur repressed the urge to laugh. "Enjoy the night, Sire?" Gwaine chuckled. Arthur could feel his cheeks burning. "I'll be going to find my shirt now. I'll see you at training… Princess."
With that Gwaine left through the chamber door leaving Arthur to face plant the pillow next to him. It all became clear to him now. Merlin would have to learn to keep his mouth shut. Too tired to get up, Arthur rolled over and draped an arm over the sleeping Merlin. His head hurt too much to care. However Arthur was left with a conundrum. Not to touch the mead ever again and avoid splitting head aches like these or the possibility of more mead and getting to see that delicious neck of Merlin's.
The temptation was far too great.