Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from this series. Because honestly, if I did, hot damn c;
Pairing: Merlin and Arthur
Style: Two-Shot?
Word Count: 1,387
Rating: T+
Synopsis: Merlin knows everything about Arthur. From his favorite food, clothes, time of day to the temperature of his baths. But what happens when they realize that everything he does for his king is so much more than what any other old servant would do? What happens when they become aware of just how much they care for one another? A story of realizations that's all in the details.
Author's Note:
why hello there my valued readers! welcome to my new fic, yaaay! I just recently finished Merlin and I kind of drowned in my own tears. whooops. but alas, in spite of that little emotional breakdown, the bright side is. . . fanfics! So I kind of want to make this one a two-shot, but I left it at a place where I can stop if no one likes it, lol. But yes, please tell me if I should continue this or not! Thank you so much for reading! Please, tell me what you think in the review section, this is a new experience for me, I've never written for this fandom before. :)
Read, Review, and as always, ENJOY!
"Merlin!"
The shout reverberated through the stone halls of the citadel.
Merlin stopped dead in his tracks, powdered pastry dangling halfway to his mouth. He sighed, and took a disappointed bite. It would probably be the last thing he eats for a while.
"Oi, then. You'd better get going. The King don't sound too happy," the cook said to Merlin, walking into the kitchen, large vat of god knows what balancing carelessly on her hip.
"And for the love of Pete!" she cried, setting the pot down angrily, causing some of the unknown liquid splash out. "Keep your grubby hands off my pastries!" She grabbed a wooden spoon and swatted at Merlin's knuckles.
Merlin jumped at the crack of the spoon to his knuckles and scurried out the door.
"Merlin!" he heard again.
He exhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose.
This was going to be a long day.
He hurriedly walked down the halls and up the flights of stairs to the King's chambers and walked in. He doesn't even bother to knock anymore.
"Yes, sire? You shouted?" began Merlin, giving his King an exaggerated curtsy
"You know what, Merlin?" said Arthur, stepping out from behind his desk. "If you were any slower, I think I'd have to start believing that you are half human, half slug."
"Wow, thank you sire!" Merlin exclaimed, eyes lighting up with mock gratitude. "And you know, I've always thought you were half human half prat."
Arthur looked at Merlin incredulously.
"Oh wait, I'm sorry. Half human, half royal prat."
"You know what, Merlin?" Arthur began, grabbing Merlin by the scarf and pulling him up close to his face.
"I could just as easily put you back in the stocks and have people pelt you with food," he said in an unsettleingly calm voice. "But wait," he smiled, looking down and noticing the dust of powdered sugar on Merlin's chin. "It seems you've already gotten your fair share of castle food, hmm?"
With his free hand, Arthur took a finger and swiped it along the base of Merlin's chin, wiping up all the sugar. He looked straight into Merlin's eyes as he popped the digit in his mouth and tasted.
"Mmm, Audrey made pastries didn't she?"
And suddenly, Merlin became very aware that they were very, very close together. That they were breathing the same air. His breath hitched.
"Ahem, yes. She, uh. Yes. Pastries." he breathed shakily.
Arthur eyes his servant curiously. Wondering where his sudden lack of eloquence came from.
"The one, and probably only thing, you're good for is never ceasing to puzzle me, Merlin," he said, letting go of the shorter boy's scarf.
Merlin's body slumped as he was released. He took a deep breath and tried to composed himself.
He wasn't sure what just happened there. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to.
"Well there's no time to waste," said the King. He crossed his arms across his torso and slipped his fingers under the fabric of his tunic. "I've got to meet Guinevere in an hour in the meadow. We're having a picnic"
He slowly lifted the fabric of his tunic up over his head, as per normal. But this time, and quite possibly for the first time, Merlin truly noticed the chiseled plains of his chest. He followed the hem of the shirt as it rose and rose, slowly revealing more and more skin. And he watched as the red tunic fell unceremoniously to the floor.
"Merlin?" Arthur scoffed, snapping his fingers in the servants face. "What has gotten into you today?"
"Oh um,"
"I said that I'm going on a picnic today," he repeated with emphasis.
"Yes, that sounds lovely," replied a frazzled Merlin, smiling through the tizzy he was in.
"No, Merlin," Arthur said, slowing his voice and enunciating as if scolding a young child. "When I say, 'I'm having a picnic,' you say, 'good Arthur, I'll go pack your basket.'"
Arthur shoved Merlin in the back in the direction of the large picnic basket. He shook his head rapidly, pulling himself together.
He walked over to the bed and plopped down onto his knees. He scanned his eyes under the bed until he spotted what he was looking for. He huffed and slid his upper body forward, butt swaying high in the air, resembling that of a yawning dog.
Arthur's breath hitched as he noticed the way his servant's pants hugged his bum, just about tearing at the seams.
"Ahem, um, hurry up under there Merlin," he said, feigning annoyance.
"I'm sorry sire, it's caught on something," his voice strained.
"Well then pull harder," said Arthur
"Wow, I'd never thought of that! Thank you, sire. What would I do without you?"
"You know what, Merlin?" Arthur's voice raised.
But Merlin beat him to a yell as he had finally dislodged the picnic basket, sending him flying backward with its momentum, skidding across the floor on his backside.
"Idiot," Arthur mumbled, walking over to his wardrobe to get out his clothes for the afternoon.
"Clotpole," Merlin retorted under his breath, getting up and grabbing the basket.
Arthur was just about to make some sort of incredulous remark, about how he was King and could have him hanged, but was distracted by the image of Merlin walking across the room, picnic basket balanced on his hip, free hand rubbing his arse.
Arthur knew that he was simply rubbing the pain away. Totally platonic. Just rubbing. Massaging was really the word he was looking for. Massaging away the ting pangs of pain. Slowly kneading, and caressing the firm curves of his -
"Arthur?"
Arthur jumped, startled out of his reverie.
"Sire, are you alright? You're sweating, and your face is all red," Merlin noted, concerning lining his voice.
Arthur put a hand to his cheek. He could practically feel the red tint of blush on his face. Blushing at the realization that his young servant was not only the butt of his jokes, but of his fantasies too. Quite literally.
"Arthur. . ." Merlin continued, stepping closing enough to place the back of his hand on Arthur's forehead.
"Yes, yes," he exclaimed, shaking free of Merlin's touch, "I'm fine, just help me dress."
Merlin eyed his suspiciously, but complied.
"I want to wear-"
"Your favorite, I know," he interrupted.
He grabbed Arthur's favorite red tunic out of the wardrobe, along with a fresh pair of trousers, boots, and belt.
He walked back over to his King, who in anticipation, already held his arms up high. Merlin chuckled as his gracefully slid the tunic up over him, and pulled it all the way down by the hem.
He waited as Arthur shimmied out of his trousers, letting them pool at his feet. And watched as he kicked them up in the air, landing on his face.
Arthur stifled a laugh as Merlin grudgingly pulled them off his face, nose crinkling at the smell.
He put on his new pants as Merlin's grabbed the belt. Arthur held his hands up as Merlin reached around to his back, encircling Arthur's torso. Slowly, he laced the belt back around his body, fingers gliding along the fabric of his tunic before finally making it to the front and fastening the buckle.
Satisfied, he tossed Arthur his boots and grabbed the picnic basket.
"Now go back down to Audrey and have her pack that for this afternoon, can you handle that?" he asked, shoving his foot into a boot.
"Yeah, yeah," he called over his shoulder, already halfway out the door.
"Make sure you get those little-"
"Fruit tarts, your favorite, I know" called Merlin, shutting the large wooden door behind him.
Arthur slumped back onto the bed, staring at the spot where his servant had just been standing and for the first time, thought about just how much Merlin pays attention. It was almost as if he cared.
A smile crept into the corners of his mouth as he sat back and recalled all the events that had just unfolded and it was decided.
He decided that he was not going to ignore the obvious any longer.
"Yes, he does care," he whispered.
He flopped back onto the bed completely, head burying back into his pillow.
"And so do I."