Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.

Notes: Reincarnation!Fic, yay. :D So is this considered AU or future!fic? *ponders*

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In this life Arthur is not Arthur but Art; his hair is not the brilliant gold Merlin remembers twisting between possessive fingers, instead a dark shade of brown, and his eyes shine a little more green than blue. His smiles, in a time when the weight of a kingship does not rest on his shoulders, come more often, but are no less breathtaking for their frequency. Art is just unfamiliar enough that Merlin feels the edge of difference deep in his chest.

It matters not. Art is Arthur in almost every way that matters: the gallantry with which he helps the old woman who lives in the flat below him with her groceries; the teasing smirk that tugs at his lips when he plays a particularly amusing prank on Merlin; the power of his body when he runs in the mornings.

His kisses, too, taste like the inescapable past. The wet slide of his tongue and the gasping of his breath fool Merlin as long as his eyes are closed; when he opens them, the disappointment is but a slight sting, because this is still Arthur. It is always Arthur: in every form he takes there is the man with whom Merlin tumbled headfirst into love, and he has never stopped loving him. He never will.

I know you, he whispers while pressing Art into his sheets, noses bumping, hand fisted over his heart as if he can impart all the lives they've lived through touch alone. Art smiles at him with tender bemusement, leans up to tug his lower lip firmly with his teeth and strokes down the curve of his spine. There is love for Merlin written into the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the gentle glide of his hands. Each kiss brushed over the crook of Merlin's elbow, the underside of his chin, the hollow of his throat: they speak of feeling that matches Merlin's in depth, but lacks the bittersweet history that lingers over Merlin's every action.

For now, Merlin kisses Art on his beautiful, smiling mouth and waits: for the day when Art will become Arthur, when he will look at Merlin with familiarity as deep as the ocean, that comes from centuries of loving and being loved. The day when his king and his lover will return fully home to his waiting arms.

Merlin feels it to the bottom of his soul and his very bones: that day won't be long in coming.

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