IF YOU WISH TO SKIP THE AN SCROLL PAST THE BOLDED SECTION

Dang I haven't completed a story in a long time. Truth be told I'm still a little befuddled about how I turned up this one. After joining the Merlin fandom 2 days ago and finding my new OTP (one of my gaybies) I said, "_, you're gonna lay your butt down on that bed and type this friggen story on your iPhone until it's completed. And I didn't even procrastinate and check other apps. *applause* I know, right? Now if only I could finish that Rebels ficlet up... Ah well. I happen to love this, if I do say so myself. I've never done a disclaimer before. Do I have to? Is it in the rules?

DISCLAIMER: IF I FREAKIN OWNED MERLIN DO YOU THINK THAT THE SHOW WOULD STILL BE CANCELLED?!

It was dark out in Camelot. Clouds covered the night sky; a low rumbling could be heard in the distance, predicting rain for the night. Two men could be seen walking through the passageways of the grand castle set in the middle of the kingdom, with only the fiery glow of torches to light the way.

"Well that was some training you put those knights through today," Merlin commented, looking sideways at his companion.

The other man grunted. "They aren't going to train themselves, Merlin," Arthur replied steadily.

"Still, it's pretty late out, don't you think?"

They continued walking, taking a turn into a corridor, and ending up at a big wooded door. Merlin took the handle and pushed it open, revealing the room beyond. The pair began their normal routine, working seamlessly to remove the prince of his armor, almost as if they had done it a thousand times before, which indeed they had.

Once done, Merlin laid out sleeping wear for his friend and turned to tend the fireplace as he changed behind him.

After a few minutes had passed, Merlin stood up and turned to face Arthur.

He looked at the bags under his eyes, no doubt from the nights spent in the previous week doing mounds of paperwork for his father.

"You look terrible," he finally commented after studying the other boy's face.

Arthur tossed his helmet onto a table. "Oh shut up, Merlin."

He gave a little laugh. "No really, you do." His master's face hardened and he took a step closer to him.

"When was the last time you had a decents night sleep?" The dark-haired boy questioned, letting a bit of concern leak into his pitched voice.

"I'm perfectly fine, Merlin," Arthur sighed. But his body betrayed him and he gave a deep yawn, trying miserably to hide it.

Merlin laughed again. "Come on Arthur," he said, taking the taller man's arm and guiding his to his bed. "Let's get you to bed."

Arthur gave a weak attempt at a protest, shrugging his arms away, but it was half-hearted and he easily gave in to the manservant's pull. Normally he would have pushed away from Merlin's touch (out of the social acceptability, of course, defiantly not because of any other feelings), but the tiredness in his eyes made him privy to none much else, and he found himself relaxing in the warm touch that was his best friend's.

The duo reached the side of the bed, much to soon for both of their displeasure, unbeknownst to one another.

"Now lie down you prat." Merlin said playfully, pushing Arthur onto the bed. Unfortunately for the magician, fate decided that he should trip on the rug (since when had that been there?) at that moment, toppling him over on the bed also, ending up on top of Arthur's legs.

Arthur jolted at the sudden movement, but didn't do anything else. Merlin's face was hot with embarrassment, buried in the soft duvet. What should he do? Would Arthur be mad? Probably. Would he be scolded for his clumsiness (again)? Most likely. He kept still and tried to recompose himself.

Arthur's thick legs were pressed against his lower half, strong and muscular from his years of training to be the next king of Camelot. They were warm against Merlin's cool body, bringing his skin sparking to life with the connection. Just this touch, however small, was... comforting. He didn't move for what to him seemed like forever.

Finally Arthur spoke up:

"As much as I enjoy your company, Merlin, you're crushing my legs." He said, with surprisingly only a hint of sarcasm.

He flushed. Merlin didn't want to move. He wanted to keep this moment, to burn it into his memory, to remember this feeling of touch. But Merlin soon came to his senses, finally processing what was going on.

His face turned bright red for the second time that night in realization and he pushed himself up quickly—both subtly wincing as soon as their bodies lost the warm, burning contact that had begun to feel so right. Merlin stumbled backwards, trying to put as much space in between him and the blond man that happened to be his ruler.

Merlin looked nervous.

"You don't have to act like I have a plague though," Arthur chuckled.

Slowly Merlin inched towards the bed again, though not fast enough for Arthur's liking. As soon as the former was in arms reach he shot his arm out and grabbed the shorter boy. Arthur gave a laugh at the small shriek of surprise Merlin made.

After a fair amount of tussling he ended up next to Arthur, whose back was currently trapping Merlin's right arm against the sheets. Arthur's left arm laid splayed out across Merlin's chest. Both men looked up to the ceiling, catching their breath.

The two looked at each other for a second—then simultaneously burst out laughing. It went on for a while, their sounds of joy floating harmoniously out into the hallway.

Merlin felt it again. That tingling high of physical contact, Arthur's hand across his chest, the pressure Arthur's back on his arm created. He squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment, dragging in a breath.

ŦŦŦ

Arthur felt calm. All the tiredness from earlier seemed to melt away, to be replaced with peace. With Merlin.

Merlin.

He rolled the name over and over through his mind, each time it becoming more and more beautiful and simple. He sighed. This boy had become a beacon to the prince, a rock in the middle of the lava. He didn't know why; through all of the manservant's blunders and mishaps, there was something there that kept Arthur coming back to him.

Merlin.

He turned his head to look at the very boy he couldn't stop thinking about. "It's wrong," a small voice in the back of his head said, but Arthur vanished it. There would be time for doubts later. Or maybe, if they're lucky, never.

Merlin felt the gaze on him and turned his head to the right to meet it. He was greeted with the warmest blue he had ever seen. "The warmest blue anyone has ever seen." He thought to himself, staring back at those eyes. His gaze flickered down to those pink lips just below, and he wondered what it would be like to kiss them. To claim his companions mouth as his own, and declare his his companions. The same thoughts happened to be running through Arthur's head, only a little bit behind. They found themselves so close together, it was pointless to try and fight the temptation. Before either of them could think sensibly about it, their lips clashed. It was hesitant at first, as if the other was afraid of breaking something beyond fragile. Soon it became desperate—desperate to show a love that they couldn't find a way to express in words. It could only be described as an orchestra. The steady clash, separation, and clash of their mouths, the soft pulsing of tongues, the sharp rhythm of teeth upon teeth, something that was sacredly beautiful.

ŦŦŦ

They brought their song to an end, carefully pulling away to again look at the mystic of one another's eyes. They lay there for minutes, maybe hours, bodies parallel, chest to chest, face to flushed face.

The two brought their damp foreheads together, nose to nose, closing their eyes or simply staring at the wonder before them. They were content with just that, just the knowledge and the feeling of being close to one another. Away for a moment from the hectic world around them.

Everything that should have been spoken didn't need to be, they could read it all in each other's face.

"I love you."

"I was waiting for that."

"I'm sorry."

"You never did anything wrong."

"And if I had?"

"You're all forgiven. You will always be forgiven."

"Until the end?"

"Forever."

(Author's Notes: Well, I hope you enjoyed. Reviews are basically my fuel, so if you can spare any kind or flamey comments I would greatly appreciate. Please leave suggestions or point out any mistakes I made! FYI: When Merlin falls on Arthur's legs, Merlin's hip is parallel to Arthur's leg legnth. So they are in a way perpendicular to one another. Hmmm. I feel like I am forgeting something. _ I am totally forgeting something.)