Title: Past in Present
Pairing: Draco/Harry, (Arthur/Merlin)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,000
Warnings: Time travel
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong JK Rowling and associated publishers and Shine/BBC. I make no profit from this endeavour.
Author's Notes: Written for hd_smoochfest 2012
Beta read by singlemomsummer, edited since, mistakes all mine.
Summary: It's a good thing that Harry had the Invisibility cloak on him when he and his ex-boyfriend Draco accidentally found themselves in time-travelling back to Camelot and, more specifically, King Arthur's chambers.
The last place Harry wanted to be was at this bloody party pretending like everything was fine when it wasn't. He thought he was doing well at hiding himself away, but apparently not well enough because Draco had found him.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" he snarled when Draco appeared at his side, pale faced and just as fucking gorgeous as ever.
Draco's mask flickered but didn't fall. "Can't you just let me say goodbye and wish me well?"
Harry shook his head. He wasn't in the mood for this, not today. "Excuse me," he said, turning quickly and walking away, not caring where to – somewhere – anywhere as long as it was away. He knew he was making it pathetically obvious that he still cared for Draco, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Let people stare, Harry was used to it.
It was only as he stepped out into the corridor, the Ravenclaw common room behind him, that he realised Draco had followed him. "Harry-"
Harry spun, grabbing Draco's wrist and pushing him up against the wall. "Do you think that you can just 'say goodbye' and that I will be all smiles and wave you off?"
Draco didn't respond, his eyes were fixed on the ornate silver ring on Harry's forefinger. Draco had bought it for him last Christmas, had spent a fortune – the ring was said to have belonged to King Arthur himself. Harry didn't believe that, it was all a load of sentimental romantic tosh.
Still, he'd never taken it off.
"You still wear it," Draco whispered, eyes wide, looking very much like the old Draco for a moment.
Harry wrenched the damned thing from his finger and grabbing Draco's hand he unfurled his tight fist and placed the ring on his palm. "Why don't you give this to your fiancée because King Arthur and Merlin, they weren't real—and neither were we." They had felt more than real at the time, he'd thought he'd found his soul mate. Until his soul mate let his parents pressure him into an engagement with someone suitable, female and pureblood.
Draco couldn't trust Harry, he'd said, sooner or later Harry would realise that the family he'd always wanted was more important than Draco and he'd leave him. Only it had been Draco who had left him.
It had only been a month but to Harry it felt like every day was a year.
Draco picked the ring off his palm and rubbed it with his thumb. "I can't take this. I gave it to you." He tried to force it back into Harry's hand—and that was when everything went black.
:oo:
When Harry came to, he was lying with his face smushed into Draco's armpit and they were both lying on a cold stone floor.
Harry rolled quickly away and picked himself up looking around; trying to take in their surroundings, place something familiar. There was nothing familiar about it.
It was a bedroom, elaborately decorated with a four poster bed, expensively carved antique furniture, a dying fire in the hearth. This wasn't a museum piece, it was lived in.
Harry walked over to the window and peered out, turning back to Draco to say, "Um, I think we've time travelled."
"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," Draco said, dusting his robes down and reaching for his wand. "We can just Apparate-" He closed his eyes and…nothing happened.
"Or not," Harry grumbled, glaring at Draco.
Draco huffed and walked to join Harry by the window, peering out. "Oh-"
"Does that look like 1998 to you?" Harry asked dryly.
Draco's knuckles were white on the stone window frame as he peered down at the courtyard. "We could be at one of those old houses that Muggles restore and hold re-enactments in?" His tone was hopeful, but Harry could tell he didn't really believe it.
"I don't think we are," Harry said gently, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder for comfort before he remembered and recoiled. He no longer had the right to touch at will. "It must've been the ring." He wondered why he didn't feel more alarmed than he did, but he if he was really honest with himself he knew – after Voldemort and everything that had happened these last few years, this was nothing. His life hadn't been his own for so long, now that it was, he'd almost stopped caring.
"We've time travelled back to what looks like the bloody Middle Ages, Potter – how can you be so calm?" Draco wrenched himself away from the window. "Oh that's right, nothing touches you does it?"
Something twisted inside Harry, ugly and cold. Draco had touched him, made him fall for him, and then he had left. Harry had been trying so hard to show him how he felt, but it hadn't been enough.
Harry looked at Draco now, trying to hide his fear behind the indifference he usually displayed. "How well you know me," he said sarcastically, averting his eyes, his own thoughts cutting deep. "We'll get out of this together. Trust me."
He heard Draco scoff. "Trust you—" He cut off as there were footsteps outside the door and the sounds of someone's hand on the latch.
Harry acted on instinct, pulling his invisibility cloak from his packet and enlarging it with a wandless wave of his hand, reaching out for Draco and pulling him close, an arm around his waist, fanning the cloak over them and pushing back against the stone wall as far back as he could, sinking them both to the floor with Draco between his legs.
The door opened in what felt like slow motion and two men walked in. They were probably in their early twenties, the first one a handsome blond wearing chainmail and a red cape with a dragon crest, his gait one of authority and confidence as he crossed the room to the bed, undoing the clasp at his neck and throwing the cape over one of the chairs at the table on his way. The other man was much slimmer, his clothes worn and looser, raven dark hair and sharp blue eyes that followed the other with concern.
"Arthur, you shouldn't let her get to you. Morgana's mind was twisted by Uther's actions, not yours-"
Harry's eyes nearly bogged out of his face. Arthur—Uther—Morgana… He felt Draco stiffen as he probably jumped to the same conclusion. Could this really be King Arthur?
It made sense if that ring glimmering on the King's forefinger was the same one Draco still held in his palm.
The man named Arthur, turned towards his companion and held his arms skywards and the other stepped into his space and began to lift the chainmail off his bulk. More curious now, Harry noticed the efficient way that the man went about his task, as though he did this every day. Arthur wasn't looking at him, he was staring over his head, straight at the wall above where he and Draco were hiding, clearly trying to get himself together before he said, "I cared for her and she repays me by baying for my blood. What is it about me that is so easy to hate, Merlin?"
Merlin! Wasn't he supposed to be about ninety years old with a look of Dumbledore about him? This Merlin was young, and upon a second look, utterly beautiful.
The chainmail was off now and placed on top of the cape over the chair. The shirt beneath was white and stuck to Arthur's skin with sweat. Harry didn't mind admitting that he was a sight to behold, muscular and strong—despite their current predicament; he began to hope that the shirt would come off next. He could feel Draco's heartbeat beneath his hand, his own arm still around his chest where he had dragged him back against him, and for a moment it was too much. Draco was so close, pressed against him – his scent assaulting Harry's senses. Why couldn't he be immune to him? After all, Draco had made it more than clear he didn't want Harry.
"It's not you, Arthur," Merlin said. "It's your power."
Arthur sighed, turning his attention back to the man before him. "You're the only one I trust. Even Gwen-" he paused and shook his head, "Even my future wife."
"Yet still you're marrying her."
Arthur frowned. "She knows I only think of her as a friend, that this is for the Kingdom."
Harry felt as though he was watching a particularly good movie. Not in love with Guinevere? Just a marriage of convenience? This was not how it was in 'History of Magic'!
The dark haired man's eyes flashed, and he stepped away. "How do you suppose the person who has your heart feels about that?"
"I don't know, because he never talks to me about it."
"He hates it."
Arthur's eyes softened. He followed him to where he was standing by the table, long fingers curled around the back of a chair. He placed a hand on his shoulder and tuned him to face him. "It's you, Merlin, it's always been you, and you know that."
Arthur ran the back of his hand down the side of Merlin's face and Merlin closed his eyes, swaying slightly into the touch.
Harry felt Draco's body tense between his thighs, his breath huffing out nervously as he crowded back against him. He could feel the soft brush of his hair against his cheek, smell his shampoo, and hear his heart beating. It was torture. Before him, a few paces away, Merlin – Harry still couldn't believe it, Merlin – was staring into Arthur's eyes and Harry could see his breathing was heavier too, the pulse in his neck screaming out his tension.
Harry could see the pure love in his eyes as he looked at Arthur.
Merlin swallowed, blinked, and then leant in to kiss Arthur. That was all the signal Arthur needed, because he responded ferociously in a filthy kiss that sent shockwaves of desire to Harry's cock, which he was already struggling to control considering its close proximity to Draco's arse. This was not good.
Arthur's hands closed over Merlin's buttocks and Merlin whimpered and let Arthur lift him up, wrapping his legs around him, climbing him, one arm going around his neck, the other frantically working at his tunic, pushing it upwards, and somehow, without letting go of Merlin, it was off and over his head, tossed thoughtlessly to one side and they spun round, Arthur backing Merlin against the nearest wall, all the while, kissing him like it was the last time.
Harry felt Draco's heart rate speed up, as did his own. He shifted against Harry and the swelling in his cock could no longer be passed off as an awkward angle as it pressed into the swell of Draco's bottom. Harry shouldn't be finding this as erotic as it was, trapped in a place out of time, watching two people who until just now he had thought to belong to, at best, exaggerated folk tales.
Time seemed to slow down, which to Harry was ironic considering when they were, and Harry watched with increasing arousal and horror as Arthur dropped Merlin to his feet, rid him swiftly of all his clothes, and lifted him again, still kissing him like he couldn't get enough. Merlin's hands were everywhere, his long pale body folded around Arthur's bigger golden one.
Arthur had dimples in his arse cheeks, Harry noticed, trying to distract himself from the sensations sparking inside him. Draco's closeness always manifested in a Pavlovian response in him, one he struggled to control, but now, with Arthur pressing Merlin into the wall and the obvious intimacies they were probably about to witness, not getting aroused was going to be impossible.
Arthur's fingers were searching out Merlin's entrance now, and Harry was mesmerised. He shouldn't enjoy this, he should feel guilty—should try to get out of the room now that Arthur and Merlin were distracted- why hadn't Harry thought this sooner?
He pressed his lips to Draco's ear, "We have to get out of here," he whispered. He heard Draco's breath hitch and instead of replying, Draco took his hand and moved it down his abdomen and placed it over his cock, restrained by his trousers, but nevertheless, clearly aroused.
"Can't," Draco breathed. "Need—"
Harry understood perfectly well what Draco needed because he needed it too. Without hesitation he undid the button to Draco's trousers and slipped his hand inside. Draco bucked up into his touch, and Harry pushed down his underwear and closed his hand around Draco's smooth length. This was wrong on so many levels, yet having Draco asking him to touch him again, Harry couldn't say no to him.
In front of them, Arthur was walking Merlin over to the bed and laying him down, rummaging in a drawer for a vial of oil. Merlin was watching Arthur through heavily lidded eyes, his lips kiss-bruised, his cock red and to attention. Fuck. This was not the Arthur and Merlin of his imagination. This was both better and worse – because had these two been old bearded men, Harry would not be in his current predicament; one hand around Draco's erection with his own pressed into the crease of his arse through his own trousers. What he wouldn't give to vanish his trousers, but he couldn't take the risk here in—Camelot?—who knew where they might go?
Harry stroked his hand along the length of Draco's cock, let his thumb caress the slit and nip the end of it with his thumb, loving the way Draco gasped and wriggled back against him.
Even with his own prick trapped in the confines of his trousers Harry knew he wouldn't last long, not with Arthur pushing gently into Merlin, leaning down to kiss him once with a slow drag of his tongue, before yanking Merlin's legs over his shoulders and ramming in with force. Merlin shouted out a mangled, "Arthur," and said, "Want you so much." Arthur responded by burying his face in Merlin's neck, thrusting into him rhythmically, a rhythm that Harry realised he was mimicking with his hand on Draco's cock and his silent rutting against his back.
Draco's breath was coming in short bursts against Harry's cheek, and he twisted his head and pressed a soft kiss just below Draco's ear, bit back the platitudes that he knew Draco didn't want to hear, and, feeling the pleasure building in his lower belly, he flicked his thumb over the head of Draco's cock one more time and was rewarded with the hot splash of his come over his hands. Draco was obviously stifling his moans because of the way he was biting his lip.
Harry imagined the noises Draco might have made in other circumstances and that was enough to tip Harry over the edge, and he exploded, sticky and wet, into his boxers.
Arthur and Merlin had far better stamina than he and Draco that was for certain. Merlin's hands were above his head as he gripped the headboard whilst Arthur pistoned into him. They were a magnificent sight.
Harry manoeuvred his wand from his sleeve and cast a quick cleaning charm, not wanting to be walking around with his own come cooling against his skin. "We have to go," he whispered to Draco who was now sitting stiffly, as though nothing had just happened. "Carefully."
Slowly they got to their feet, tiptoeing to the door, stopping there when Arthur was barked, "I love you, Merlin!" and came – Harry couldn't help turning to watch, Draco almost stumbling into him as he halted. Merlin had closed his eyes, his hands on Arthur's arse now, rubbing circles as he rode out his orgasm. Harry couldn't take his eyes off the clenching and unclenching of Arthur's arse as he spilled himself into Merlin and Merlin's hands there, long and thin like Draco's. Merlin's sudden stilling of his hands and a forced out, "Arthur," quickly followed.
Harry tore his eyes away and reached for the door latch but Draco's hand on his arm stopped him and he shook his head. He pointed at his ear and at the bed. They could hardly sidle out now that the volume had lowered. Draco tugged his arm and the moved to the side of the door away from the bed and leant back against the wall.
"I've got something to tell you, Arthur," Merlin rolled onto his side, one hand tracing Arthur's jaw line where he now lay on his back trying to get his breath back. Magnificent even when he was boneless like that. "You and Gwen-"
"Merlin, please, I thought you understood-"
"Arthur, please, just listen; this was the last time for us. I won't be your 'mistress'. I can't."
Arthur pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Merlin-"
Merlin had rolled off the bed and was scrabbling around for his clothes, yanking them on hastily. "I do believe you when you say you love me, Arthur, and you know I love you. I've never been able to hide my feelings for you even if you were oblivious for so long, but to stand by and watch you marry her—"
Arthur's face was one of pure misery. "Don't do this, Merlin."
Merlin shook his head and said, "That's my line, Arthur, and you're going ahead and marrying her anyway." Merlin pulled away from Arthur and swung his legs off the bed, keeping his back to him as he continued, "I'm leaving Camelot for a while and I don't know when I'll be back – but I can't – won't – be here for the wedding."
There were tears in the corners of Merlin's eyes but they did not fall.
"Wait," Arthur said as Merlin dragged his tunic over his head. "Please, you just have to trust me; I swear I have answers to all of this."
Merlin snorted. "Are you going to stop the wedding?"
"No need to. Gwen will be my wife—she knows my heart belongs to you—you'll be my court sorcerer – we both know there are magical ways to impregnate someone without having to—I trust you to make sure nothing goes wrong like it did with my mother."
Merlin stopped what he was doing, his belt hanging limp in his hand as his jaw dropped. "Court sorcerer?" he whispered, turning first red then blanching. "How long have you known I'm magic?"
Arthur's expression was grave. "Since you survived the Dorocha's attack; there had to be a reason why you lived when everyone else perished. After that, I started to notice…things – and everything fell into place." Arthur climbed off the bed and approached Merlin. "I've been waiting for you to trust me with it, but you never have. I trust you with my life, Merlin – why can't you extend me the same courtesy?"
"But your father's death-"
"Not magic's fault – magic failed to save him but it wasn't its fault he was attacked."
"This is…a lot to take in."
"Just know that I want you by my side, always, Merlin – but I have to do right by the kingdom and to do that I have to take a bride and produce an heir. Magic can help with that, I know it can—since I found out about you I've been doing a lot of reading— who knew Geoffrey had such an extensive private collection?"
Merlin pulled his belt around his waist and stared down at his bare feet.
"I'm to announce that the ban on magic has been lifted at the wedding feast," Arthur said and Merlin's head shot up in surprise. "You should have trusted me, Merlin; do you think you can do that now? I need you there tomorrow."
Merlin stepped forwards and Arthur drew him into his arms.
Beside him, Harry heard a sniff and glanced at Draco in surprise. Draco was staring at Arthur and Merlin with watery eyes.
Harry took hold of Draco's arm and concentrated on the courtyard outside the castle, the only place known to him in this time that he could picture. It was a risk, but they weren't going to be able to sneak out of this room in a hurry, not with Arthur and Merlin embarking on round two – and Harry didn't want to witness anymore, somehow, after their talk, watching seemed even more personal.
He felt the tug of Apparition, but when they landed they were not in the courtyard but in a field. "Shit," Harry said. "Where the hell are we now?" He hoped they hadn't shifted in time again – then he saw the car driving along a road a couple of miles in the distance. Back to present day then, that was good.
Draco was staring at other side of the field, the backdrop to which were steep sheep covered hills. "I think this is Wales," he said, nodding towards an old iron gate that no longer had a fence on either side that Harry hadn't noticed before that had a small sign on it saying, 'Cadwch Allan'. "I think this must be where Camelot once was."
Camelot was rumoured to be a hundred different places, half of the British Isles claimed that they had that special connection to King Arthur and Merlin. It made sense that they were all on the bandwagon and that really the ruins of Camelot were beneath their feet.
Now they were back in 1999. They'd travelled to another time, spied on Merlin and King Arthur having sex – unintentionally, but still, it had happened and he and Draco had—
"Well, that was the weirdest afternoon I ever spent," Harry said, feeling suddenly awkward.
Draco stared at his feet and lifted his hand where the ring glistened on his thumb. "They call this the Ring of Destiny. It's supposed to lead the bearer 'to the truth'." He tugged it off and handed it to Harry who took it and put it back onto his forefinger. "And the truth is, this isn't what I want, I don't want us to be like Arthur and Merlin, married to other people when it's each other we want."
Harry reached out for Draco's hand and Disapparated, landing in the middle of his bedroom at Grimmauld Place. He immediately let go of Draco's hand and pacing over to the window said, "Do you mean that?"
"It all depends on how you feel about me," Draco said. "I thought I was getting through to you, but you never told me you loved me, you-"
"You're all that matters to me." Harry leaned back against the window sill, watching Draco. "I- I don't know how to show you – I've never had anyone care about me like I thought you did. I don't know what to do." No one had ever shown him affection growing up. Only Ron and Hermione ever touched him, and that was just casual. He'd struggled to get used to Draco touching him all the time – outside of sex – the casual touches of a hand on his, an arm around him, and an affectionate hug. He didn't know how.
Draco closed the distance between them. "I can teach you," he said, wrapping an arm around Harry and resting his cheek against his chest. "We'll work it out. I'll tell my parents I'm not marrying Astoria because I'm in love with someone else."
"I thought you didn't trust me."
"It was me I didn't trust. I was scared." Draco took Harry's hand and rubbed a circle over his inner wrist with his thumb. "It should be me asking you to trust me after what I did."
Harry thought of Merlin, still able to be with Arthur, but never publicly acknowledged, always in another role, in the back seat. The terrible thing was that if Draco had asked that of him, he'd have done it. He loved him too much, and just a few weeks without him had nearly finished the job Voldemort had started.
Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and said, "I trust you."