Wake To You

"Up and at em, you insufferable prat!" There was that annoying little voice again but Arthur chooses to ignore it, instead burying his head deeper into his pillow, tugging at his blankets as he sunk deeper into his bed, trying to get back to sleep. Trying being the operative word.

He hears the curtains being drawn and soon bright light floods the room, causing Arthur to groan, pulling his pillow over his head. He hears that voice grumbling from next to him and begins to feel someone prodding him. Prodding him! The prince of Camelot!

The future king of Camelot lazily opens an eye, seeing Merlin poking at him and tugging, trying with his scrawny little arms to pull Arthur off the bed and onto the cold stone floor. As Merlin gives one last tug, Arthur yanks him down onto his warm, soft bed with him.

His manservant gave a muffled protest as his master chucks a pillow at him. Arthur had noticed the bags under Merlin's eyes for days now and he's been getting worried that he wasn't sleeping well. He wondered what plagued his friend. Nightmares? Was he unwell? His uncomfortable bed? Maybe he needed a new room?

Whatever it was, Arthur hadn't known what to do. He wanted to fight away all of Merlin's fears, drive away all the nightmares. He wanted to give him the cure to make him better. He would have let Merlin sleep on him if he had to; not that he would complain. The Prince of Camelot had known for a while now the nature of his feelings for his incompetent manservant.

Arthur sneaks a peek through his lashes at his love's surprised face and chuckles, turning it into a grumble as it escapes him. "Go to sleep, Merlin. You look like hell." He looks affronted and had opened his mouth to protest, when Arthur, tired of all the talking, swung a hand over Merlin's waist pulling the thinner man to himself.

Merlin gasps, but does nothing as Arthur pulls him closer; instead he rests his cheek on his king's chest, a hand playing with his hair, another looped around Arthur's shoulders. Arthur likes the feel of Merlin's body beside his, small and comforting; warm and familiar.

Arthur wonders what Merlin's lips would feel like.

What they would taste like.

He thinks he would quite like to find out.

The future king of Albion opens his eyes, to find his manservant's face relaxed, breathing deep, and lips parted in an exhale. He leans forward, pressing his own lips to his friend's for a second; a mere exchange of heat and pressure- nothing more.

Arthur wonders what it would feel like to feel Merlin press back, wanting and eager; he wonders what the inside of his mouth would taste like. The prince leans forward again; loving the feel of the sparks that ignited on his lips when they pressed against his world. Before Arthur knows what he is doing, he nips softly on Merlin's bottom lip.

He hears a gasp and his eyes fly open; he hadn't closed his eyes when he kissed anyone else before. He never trusted anyone that much before. He hasn't loved anyone that much before either. If this is love, Arthur isn't sure if he's ever loved before.

The prince pulls back slightly, his cheeks flushed and embarrassed; he glances up at his servant, that now held his heart in his hand, to keep or crush, and leans in to tentatively press a kiss on the corner of Merlin's mouth. His love presses back, and Arthur feels his chest empty, and he is filled with so much happiness that his heart was now Merlin's. Though truth be told, it always has been.

Arthur presses closer to Merlin, his arms tightening around him, he would never let him go. He would never let anyone hurt him. He would make Merlin happy, he would protect him, he would love him, always. Always, always, he'd never let him go until he told him he wanted to be free of him.

"A-Arthur. I h-have to go."

His eyes snap open, his empty arms a reminder of what he almost had; the door closing behind his love. Arthur wasn't one for tears, but that didn't stop the cascade of sadness that streaked down his cheeks. He felt so empty. The gaping hole in his chest no longer held his heart; it was no longer filled with the acceptance that he thought had come with the kisses Merlin had let him have.

Arthur buries himself, the crying man whose heart has been shattered deep inside him; beside the crying son desperate for his father's attention, the unworthy and weak prince unsuited to rule a kingdom. He buried him deep inside the dark recesses inside himself; of all the pain Arthur had endured, he cannot help but think that this was the worst he ever felt.

The prince wants to spend the rest of his days in his chambers, crying at his rejected love; but he knows he has to carry on and pretend, at least until he is in the safety of his own rooms once again. Arthur dresses himself, slow and clumsy, with every button he cannot help but think how things would be so much better if Merlin were here.

Everything always was.

Arthur makes sure a playful, arrogant smile plays on his face as he heads to where his knights trained. He laughs at his fellow knight's antics, he winks at passing noblewomen and he does not, by any means choke back a sob when he sees Merlin walk past holding hands with a visiting noblewoman's handmaid.

The prince was breaking. His facade slowly faded throughout the day as he catches glimpses of Merlin and the same handmaiden; frolicking about Camelot. He caught them kissing once, when Arthur had went to have his armor polished. It was awkward to say the least, the giggling hand maid, and Merlin's protests.

He had just dropped his armor in a pile on the floor at his feet and nodded, before turning on his heel to begin the torturous slow journey back to his chambers. Every smile felt like it was another tug in opposite directions at the hole in heart; it felt big enough to swallow him whole now. Not that Arthur felt very whole at all.

He collapses against the door the minute he slams it closed behind him. His breathing is ragged, his tears blurring his vision as he stumbles over to his bed. He sobs into his pillow, his arms cold and empty as they lay beside him. He couldn't forget the feeling of Merlin in his arms now that he had felt it.

He couldn't forget the feel of his lips.

The taste of Merlin.

The feel of his fingers playing with his hair.

The feel of his skin on his; no matter how brief.

Arthur couldn't forget Merlin.

It only made sense that Arthur dreamed about him again. He doesn't remember the dream, but only that when he wakes up, the hole in his chest is not quite so empty. He smiles as he feels the warmth of a body laying on his; he pulls him tighter, kissing the mop of dark hair.

This was the way Arthur wanted to wake up everyday for the rest of his life. Merlin stirs; blinking his eyes repeatedly as he tries to wake up. He smiles a wide and slightly insane grin of pure happiness that no doubt mirrored Arthur's own before his blue eyes widen and he hurries to explain himself.

"A-Arthur! It wasn't what it looked like at all! She was-"

The future king of Albion laughs and presses their lips together. "You're here." Arthur smiles into the kiss and he slides his eyes close as he feels his lover kiss back.

"With you. Always."