Merlin's favorite place in the world is Arthur's arms. (Arthur feels the same way about Merlin, though he would never admit it.) Merlin loves the firm muscle and the taut skin, golden and warm. He loves to touch them, to rub at the biceps and feel the smoothness of them, and to have those arms wrapped around him every night.
Sometimes Merlin's mind will wander when he's not at home, sitting in his cubicle and staring blankly at the wall, imagining how nice it felt to wake up wrapped up in Arthur that morning. Gwen will shoot him a knowing look, and Merlin will ignore her in favor of remembering the way Arthur's fingertips gently rubbed at Merlin's sides. Minutes will fly by, and Merlin, distracted by his own daydream, will emit a lovesick sigh and wrap his arms around himself, trying to imitate the way Arthur had done it. But then the man in question, or "Mr. Pendragon-the-boss" as he's known in the office, will smack him on the head and tell him to get back to work. Merlin will scowl and Arthur will smirk, knowing full well what's causing Merlin's distraction and doing nothing to help.
In the evenings, when they enter their flat together, Merlin will cook while Arthur wraps his arms around his waist, propping his chin on his shoulder to see what's for dinner. Merlin will smile and lean into the embrace, telling Arthur in his most stern voice that dinner absolutely will not burn, not tonight. So Arthur will squeeze a little tighter and set to work nibbling Merlin's neck until Merlin sends him to set the table for the sake of unburnt food.
Finally, when the dishes have been cleared and are lying in a dirty heap in the sink, Merlin and Arthur will tumble into bed together, and sometimes Arthur will have Merlin trapped beneath his arms, and sometimes Merlin will pin Arthur with his hands, but it always ends up the same way: The two of them lying encircled in one another, panting and spent, trading lazy, adoring kisses and sharing in each other's warmth.
In the mornings they'll wake up the same way, smiling and grasping onto each other, their legs tangled beneath the sheets. Reluctantly they will extract themselves and go about their routine, eating breakfast and brushing their teeth with their shoulders pressed against each other, before they'll set off for another day of being separated by office walls.
One day they had a fight. It was over something small, and halfway through it neither could really remember what they were even fighting about. But stubborn as they were, neither wanted to back down, so what started as a simple argument turned into lots of shouting and throwing things, ending in three broken plates and two broken hearts. Merlin stomped off to bed, ignoring Arthur's calls of "Fine! Be that way!" He winced when he heard the front door slam.
Breathing heavily and blinking away furious tears, Merlin lay in bed alone, missing Arthur's presence despite his anger. As soon as he calmed himself he realized how stupid the whole thing was, but he couldn't exactly go after Arthur. He didn't even know where he went.
Instead he grabbed Arthur's cold, unoccupied pillow and curled around it, wishing it was him.
He fell into a fitful sleep after that, clinging to the pillow for dear life, until he was gently woken by something shifting in the sheets. He blinked to see Arthur, illuminated by moonlight, crawling into bed with a sheepish expression on his face.
"You awake?" He asked, and Merlin nodded. Arthur smiled and settled beneath the covers, close enough that Merlin could feel heat radiating from him, but not close enough to touch.
"I'm sorry," Arthur whispered, and Merlin wasted no time in launching himself forward, discarding the pillow in favor of the real thing. Arthur chuckled and returned the embrace, as Merlin buried his face in Arthur's hair and said "I'm sorry, too."
They fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other, because neither could resist the other's arms for long.
Arthur likes to watch tv with Merlin on the couch. They put on Doctor Who, because Merlin likes it so much. Arthur insists that he doesn't like it, but he always gives a silent cheer when Merlin chooses to watch David Tennant. They lie on the couch, Arthur propped up on pillows with Merlin half on top of him, arms draped loosely around each other. Arthur will rest one arm low on Merlin's back, bringing up the other hand to card lazily through his hair. Merlin will sigh and snuggle slightly so that Arthur has better access, twining Merlin's hair through his fingers, breathing in the scent of his shampoo. Merlin will have both arms squashed around Arthur's chest until he has to reach for more popcorn.
When Arthur got the call from the hospital saying that his father died, Merlin took the phone from him with gentle hands, setting it on the counter to pull Arthur's head to his shoulder. Arthur accepted the hug, standing with his hands limp at his sides while Merlin held him in the middle of their little kitchen. He trembled with each breath, blinking away tears and burying himself into Merlin's neck. Merlin shushed him and rubbed small, comforting circles on his back, before pulling away and tugging Arthur to the bedroom.
Arthur went without complaint, and when they stopped he allowed Merlin to strip him of his clothes and get him into bed. Merlin followed soon after, turning off the light even though it was only eight in the evening, with weak light still outside. Once again he pulled Arthur close, resting Arthur's head on his chest and keeping his arms tight around him. Arthur clung back, desperate to keep Merlin there with him. All night, Merlin held him as he cried.
Waking up in each other's arms is the best part. On the weekends, sunlight streams in through the curtains, allowing Merlin to appreciate the gold of Arthur's skin and hair. Arthur will trace the sunbeam that kisses Merlin's cheekbones with one finger, and Merlin will smile lazily up at him, shifting so that their bodies are better aligned. Arthur will grin, Merlin's blue eyes the only clear thing to his sleep-fogged mind.
With a sigh they will lie there together, lost in each other while the world goes on outside their bedroom. The hardships of the world will wait for them, they decide. Work can be stressful, people can be cruel, and sometimes they can be angry at each other. But none of these things can reach them here, in their little bubble. Safe in each other's embrace, the problems of everyday life can't reach them. Here, underneath the blankets, it's just the two of them, sharing their warmth and their love. Nothing else matters.