Silenced
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Author's Note: A fluffy little one-shot.
WARNING: Slash, non-explicit, M/M.
Arthur was exhausted. He hadn't yet been to sleep and he'd spent the night pouring over old reports so that when he made his unpopular argument with his Father and the council this afternoon there would be very little they could do to protest the changes he wanted to implement.
With a low groan Arthur tossed his boots and shirt into an untidy heap near the foot of his bed and flopped tiredly into his soft bedding which smelt comfortingly of laundry soap, dry grass, and Merlin. A smile touched his lips. He'd come to love the way Merlin's presence lingered long after his wispy dark haired servant had flashed him a blinding grin and retired for the night.
He'd not been able to sleep at all when Merlin had gone home to Ealdor for a week and a half with Gaius when Hunith had fallen ill. The scent of Merlin had faded from the room with the thorough scrubbing the bootlicker replacement had given it. The sheets were too crisp, cool and impersonal, his food wasn't quite as hot as he liked it, nor was his bath (how Merlin managed the minor miracles of perfect temperature when he barely arrived for work on time most mornings was beyond Arthur). He'd put on a neatly hung and pressed jacket or strap himself into his glowing armour and know that, despite the apparent perfection of the finished product, Merlin did it better.
Arthur slipped into sleep with these fond thoughts running through his mind and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Not even two hours later the sun had risen and the subject of fond thoughts was now the subject of venomous mental cursing.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, Arthur," yawned Merlin.
The servant bustled around setting out some clothes and placing his breakfast tray on the table.
"Gaius kept me up late stirring...something, I'm not really sure what it was..."
Arthur groaned and buried his head in his pillow for a moment before turning onto his side so he could look at Merlin.
The other man looked as tired as Arthur felt and puttered around sleepily knocking into things and generally making a ruckus.
"...but the smell! I'm telling you the cure has to be worse than living with a few pustulent boils!"
"Merlin," mumbled Arthur.
"And then Acacia was too busy flirting with Dendred to notice me so I had to get the food myself, and Cook was not happy let me tell you..."
"Merlin," Arthur grumbled annoyed.
The dark haired servant paused and stared at his Prince who had sleep tousled hair and glazed blue eyes and who wasn't scolding him really or getting up and ready for the day, just scowling vaguely in his general direction his eyes occasionally fluttering shut.
Merlin strode over to the bed and poked the Prince accusingly in the bicep.
"You're not even awake yet!"
As adorable as Merlin looked with his bottom lip protruding ever so slightly and his dark hair tousled and sticking up every which way, Arthur really needed his sleep before the council meeting this afternoon and if Merlin was going to continue chattering and bustling it would never happen.
So, Arthur, still more than half-asleep, grabbed the offending limb and tugged his pathetically light servant into his bed where he sprawled enticingly, wide eyed with surprise.
"A-Arthur...what?"
"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur said pressing his lips carelessly against Merlin's mouth for a brief moment.
Satisfied that Merlin was silenced and drawing his slender form closer, Arthur expertly toed off Merlin's boots and they fell to the floor with a dull thunk.
"Sleep," the Prince ordered burying his nose in Merlin's neck and inhaling the familiar scent of safety and love he associated with the dark haired waif.
AN: Please review and let me know what you think!