The first time Merlin and Arthur Pendragon fell into bed together, it had been an otherwise normal evening. Both sat on the couch, watching telly, when a scene of sexual origin began to play. Like every other time before, Merlin made a mundane excuse to leave the room. His reasoning that night had been to fetch himself some tea.
Arthur personally found it odd that anyone would allow someone other than their spouse to see them naked. Then again, there was a lot about the world he had resurfaced into that he did not understand still, and that was only a tiny molehill in comparison to the mountain. As in their first era together, however, his friend had been well prepared, and had given him ample time once he returned to acclimate to his newest surroundings. No, he was not entirely educated on the newest time period, but he had made great strides so far.
While the scene played out before him, a thought occurred to Arthur on that particular night, and he just could not shake it. In that moment, he stood up from his spot on the couch, and strode into the kitchen, where he knew that he would undoubtedly be met with Merlin piddling about it. As expected, he happened upon the lankier man standing upright at the counter opposite to the entrance, where he was dipping a tea bag into a singular cup.
Aware of Arthur's presence, Merlin looked up, meeting the blond's questioning gaze. Although Merlin knew Arthur like the back of his hand, the opposite could not be said of the former king. In Camelot, he swore that he could pin Merlin down to a tee, until it had become all too clear that he could not. Still, as he remained there, regarding Merlin, he could tell that something was not quite right with the sorcerer. Acting on instinct, Arthur stepped forward slowly, as he attempted to puzzle out the remaining mystery that he had left behind.
Up until this point, the two men had given each other an unnaturally wide berth, physically and emotionally. This is not to say that they had not taken pleasure in each other's company, because they had. However, neither spoke of their last moments together in Camelot either, as that had been the point where their affections for one another were briefly laid bare. While Merlin chose to speak freely regarding what he had seen or new innovations, a sure fire way Arthur had learnt to shut him up was to inquire of lesser known topics, such as his romantic pursuits. That night though, when he moved to where he was directly behind Merlin, and heard the man's breath catch, the former king decided he was tired of ignoring the obvious for propriety's sake.
Merlin hadn't expected Arthur to follow him into the kitchen. He also had not anticipated his friend coming closer, and possessively grabbing at his hips from behind. Nor could he have predicted the involuntary gasp of the man's name escaping his lips in response. Except that it all had occurred, and his mind scrambled to figure out what to do in the aftermath.
Were it any other person, Merlin would have been clear of their intent. Had it been Gwaine, even, the warlock would have known that he desired a roll in the sack. However, it's not Gwaine this time, but Arthur. Arthur, whom was Merlin's greatest friend, and his former king. Arthur, whom Merlin had loved for over a thousand years, and had only recently just gotten back. Arthur, whose breath was warming the nape of his neck in that moment.
Rather than reacting to the sudden change of pace, Merlin waits. When he did not respond, Arthur leaned forward, then pressed a kiss to his left shoulder blade. Even through the fabric of his long sleeved shirt, the dark haired man had felt the shape of the man's lips. This alone had sent an excited chill through his spine. Soon after, he felt Arthur resting his head against the spot where he had just put his mouth.
For a few minutes, the two men stood together in silence, each reveling in the closeness to one another. Finally, Arthur stepped back slightly, and tugged on the belt loop closest to Merlin's right hip. Acquiescing almost instantly, the lanky man turned around to face the blond, his eyes immediately honed in on anything but the light blue eyes boring into him. Not content with that, Arthur reached out to stroke Merlin's right cheek with his left hand, willing the man to look up to meet his gaze. Never one to deny Arthur, except with gratuitous compliments, the warlock did.
In a move that Arthur had witnessed before, he slid his hands into Merlin's back pockets, which then brought him chest to chest with the other man. Pupils dilated, Merlin watches the blond with wide eyes. With his head inclined closer, Arthur began trailing kisses up Merlin's neck, which immediately elicited a soft huff of surprise. When he reached the taller man's ear, he whispered, "Do you wish for me to stop?"
"No," Merlin exhaled shakily, his resolve having crumbled long ago.
"Good," Arthur replied, before he continued his venture.
Not long after, he tentatively pressed a kiss against Merlin's lips, which put the ball into the other man's court, so to speak. Stunned, the sorcerer threaded his fingers through the blond locks in front of him, then chose to respond in kind.
The second time that the two men touched each other as lovers was a few weeks later. In the time between, the two had become much more handsy with one another. Merlin himself could hardly believe what he had done with his oldest living friend, and even wondered if it had been more of a one off. The thought broke his heart a bit, but the touches Arthur peppered over the days after while they went about their normal routine, made him think that perhaps it hadn't been.
The next time it took place, Merlin had been in the shower, washing himself off. A full lather had covered his body when Arthur made the decision to enter the rather small space, entirely starkers as well. Once he had closed the door behind him, the blond began nonchalantly placing his hands on Merlin's back, scrubbing him where he had yet to reach. With strong ministrations, he pressed into the muscles of the thinner man's back as he went, massaging tension out beneath the heated water that fell over them. Soon, groans of pleasure escaped the warlock's mouth, which only fueled Arthur's desire to continue.
After the blond covered the length of the man's back in purposeful motions, he backpedaled to allow Merlin to rinse all of the suds away. In doing so, the sorcerer gave a full view of the length of his body. By the time all of the soap had disappeared from his skin, Arthur had poured more into his right hand. After he closed the gap between them, Arthur reached out and took a hold of the very firm appendage in front of him, lathering it intently as he watched spasms cross Merlin's face with unabashed satisfaction. Not much later, the two elected to migrate towards the warlock's bedroom for further exploration of one another.
The third time anything sexual transpires between Merlin and Arthur is merely days after the second time. Arthur, whom had been frustrated over the pent up energy he built up just by breathing, frequented the local gym at least twice a day after the first month that he had been back. Merlin joined him a few times a week, and even went with him on runs in the local park when his work schedule allowed. On this day, the sorcerer chose to stay in, because he expected a friend over soon after Arthur planned to leave.
Thinking nothing of it, Arthur had let it lie, as it was not the first time that Merlin opted to give him space. In truth, they spent more time together than not, and even though the stockier man had been absent for centuries, the two still required time away from the other to recharge. So, he left with his gym bag in hand, after placing a kiss on Merlin's forehead. The warlock smiled happily as he watched Arthur walk to the door, giving him a thousand watt smile in return, before he disappeared from sight completely.
As the blond made the short jog to the gym down the street, another person arrived at the flat that he and Merlin had shared for the last year. While Arthur worked up a sweat surrounded by people he had absolutely no interest in ever knowing, Merlin greeted his friend with a hug, before pulling him into the door.
In the time since Arthur's death, and Merlin had fled everything he once knew, there were various instances where he met different incarnations of those from Camelot. In the current year of 2010, he had come upon at least one newer version of his previous acquaintances, in some form or fashion. While some came up more frequently through generations, such as Gaius, Hunith, or Kilgarrah, there were others who appeared less, such as Mordred, Morgana, or Morgause. In the decade following the most recent turn of the century, Gwaine is the only one whom he has met. As in Camelot, they had become close friends again.
Gwaine had been away on a tour in Iraq in the British Army, and had only just returned for a bit of R and R. In his other past reincarnations, Gwaine rarely ever remembered Merlin for who he had always been. Once or twice he had, out of the many times the thick accented Irish man had resurfaced, and those were Merlin's favorite spans of time. Misery, as many have denoted, loves company.
In a few of the lifetimes that they were not fated to be friends, they had ended up as significant others. Merlin could not deny that he felt a deep connection with Gwaine, no matter what time period they met in. However, every relationship paled in comparison to the strength of what he felt for Arthur. Which is why the sorcerer felt guilty at the sight of his long time friend, because one look at him as he stepped through his front door, and he knew that the man hoped for more following the culmination of his latest deployment.
After a long hug in the entryway, the pair had migrated to the kitchen to pop open two beers, before they seated themselves on the couch in the middle of Merlin and Arthur's modest living room. Following a long swig inhaled by Gwaine, he turned to consider the man opposite of him. In that moment, he was aware of who Merlin actually was, which made the blow the warlock planned to deal him that much harder.
Inwardly, before either of them spoke up, Gwaine could tell that something had happened while he had been away to put a bit more pep in the man's step.
"So, Merlin, how have you been?" Gwaine asked, as he sucks in another gulp of his alcohol.
The aforementioned pondered the query for a brief lapse of time as he stared at the ground with a contented grin on his face. The past few weeks had indeed been confusing, but so much more than he had ever hoped for. Though they never discussed their feelings, Merlin was almost certain now that what he and Arthur had would last, as it never could have properly in their last lifetime together. This, he was sure, was their second chance, in that regard.
When he glanced up with a slightly guilty look on his face, Gwaine knew what was about to exit his lips, before it ever did.
"I've been well. Arthur, uh, he returned. I wanted to tell you, but that's not exactly something to put in the post, so I figured it would be best told in person. Gwaine, I-," Merlin rambled, until Gwaine cut him off with a clap on the shoulder, after he had scooted close enough to do so.
"I understand, Merlin. You've waited a hell of a long time for him, and I can only wish you the best now. We had our fun, but we both know it's the Princess that you're completely besotted with. I'm happy for you, really."
A slight sadness colored Merlin's features as he acknowledged Gwaine's statement.
"It meant a bit more to me than that, you know. It's just, Arthur is-," Merlin exhaled, breaking off in the middle of his sentence, unable to encompass everything that the man actually meant to him with a few short words.
"There's no need to explain, mate. I would never wish to come between what you two have. Frankly, I think Arthur would skin me alive if I even thought of attempting to do so now. It's in our best interests, I believe, if I step aside quietly, wouldn't you say?" the Irishman stated, before he took another large sip of his drink.
"You've always been a good friend, Gwaine. Thank you for that."
"Any lifetime, Merlin, any lifetime," he affirmed, before pouring the last of his bottle down his throat.
Without even having to look at Merlin's beer, Gwaine stood up and went to the fridge to help himself to another cold one, aware that his skinnier friend wouldn't need a second for a while. Once he chucked the empty glass into the bin, he braced himself against the fridge long enough to take a deep breath. As he inhaled and exhaled at a rapid pace, Merlin listened from the living room, aware of exactly what his companion is doing. Instead of rushing in there however, he opted to allow Gwaine his space. It was the least he could do, he surmised.
A handful of minutes later, the former knight re-entered the living space, another bottle of beer in his hand. When he plopped down on the couch the second time, he placed a respective amount of distance between himself and Merlin. No trace of sadness about him, he looked over at the dark blue eyes which rested on him from the moment he stepped into their view again.
From that point, up until the moment that Arthur walked through the door nearly two hours later, both Merlin and Gwaine acted as if nothing out of the norm had occurred. When Arthur tread through the door, his body drenched in sweat, he was surprised to find one of his former knights with Merlin. Unsure of what to think, he glanced to the lankiest of them all, and became immediately curious when he spied the strange look that overtook Merlin's features.
Gwaine, who had taken the news of Arthur's return in stride so far, admittedly had not been fully prepared for the love he is met with in Merlin's eyes as he spied the man walking through the door. He hadn't even turned around to see whom had entered the flat, but the look in the dark blue irises across from him gave it away before he ever did. The soldier choked down the remnants of his eleventh beer before he rose from his seat and pivoted about to where he came face to face with the man he last expected to see at the end of his latest tour.
"Hey, Princess. Long time, no see," Gwaine greeted, the smile he afforded Arthur not quite reaching his eyes.
"You remember me?" Arthur demanded, highly incredulous.
"That I do. Fate works in mysterious ways, it seems."
"Quite. It's good to see you, old friend," Arthur stated, before he turned to shut the door behind him.
After he shed his gym bag onto his bed, then returned to find Merlin regarding Gwaine with a worried look, while the man merely stared at the floor. When Arthur walked into the kitchen, he noticed the multiple glass bottles piled in the rubbish bin, which he was sure were not at all the warlock's. A shake of his head, and he grabbed one of his own from their stock, before he chose to return to seat himself directly in between Merlin and Gwaine on the sofa.
Preceding the first drop of alcohol into his mouth, he slung an arm around Merlin's midsection, then pulled him tightly to him. The movement although unexpected, warmed his partner's heart, despite the heartache his former lover felt on the opposite end of the couch. Merlin felt guilty, but he could not bring himself to request that Arthur let go in Gwaine's presence, even so.
Hours ticked by on the clock above the telly, and the men spoke as if no time had passed at all. Gwaine told Arthur of his present life as best he could, until eventually his alcohol addled brain could no longer function enough to form sentences, much less words. Once having reached this point, Merlin declared that Gwaine must take the spare bedroom. While Arthur collected an extra set of clothes to chuck in Merlin's, Merlin himself aided the long haired brunet towards the bed meant for him that night.
Once laid down and tucked in, Gwaine looked up at the warlock and slurred out with great difficulty, "You're a good man, Merlin. It's no wonder the Princess and I love you."
If Arthur took any stock in what his former knight had said, he did not let on that he did. Instead, he chose to take his toiletries and clothes to Merlin's room, but not before he departed with a, "Goodnight, Gwaine."
Merlin grimaced down at his friend. Were Arthur not here, he had no doubt that Gwaine would be the one warming his bed, in truth. It had been their way for the past few years, and lifetimes before that. Even with all of the happiness swelled up inside of him, he could not help but feel bad for the man whom had given so much of himself, only to be cast aside now. It wasn't right, and he was aware of this. However, nothing could have brought him to risk the tentative new bond between he and Arthur, not even his fondness for Gwaine.
Merlin sighed, but resigned himself to the fact that although it hurt now, the best was yet to come. Before he left the guest bedroom, Gwaine had dozed off into a deep slumber, which was indicated by the loud snores that permeated the otherwise silent room. Shortly after, he snuck out quietly, making certain that the door shut behind him. Only after Merlin is certain that he has not woken his inebriated mate, did he stride toward his own room.
Not having realized how long he had stood there as he watched Gwaine sleep, it became clear when he arrived in his room to a shower clean Arthur lying in his bed. Without a word, Merlin began to strip out of his top layer of clothing. It had been a fun, but long day, and all he wanted was to drift into a deep sleep not unlike the one Gwaine had entered into earlier. However, when the warlock climbed into bed with nothing but his shorts and boxers on, he found himself soon embraced by two strong arms.
Kisses against his neck were placed shortly thereafter, coupled with slightly aggressive sucking that was sure to leave marks on his skin. Unlike the last two times, the touches that are laden upon him are much more possessive, but not in a way that would be worrisome, if someone wished to inquire. Gasps escaped Merlin's lips in quick succession as Arthur trailed his tongue and mouth over sensitive areas that he had learned already through trial and error. In truth, the sorcerer could not have been certain, as they were blanketed in darkness, but he was almost positive that there would be quite a few hickeys on the back of his neck in the morning. Although Merlin had yet to spell out the nature of Gwaine's relationship to him in recent years, he was aware that the way in which Arthur took to branding him in that moment, only signified his suspicions that the blond was fully aware of what they had once meant to each other.
Shortly after, Merlin found that rather than drawing it out as he had been wont to do before, Arthur jumped up and straddled him. Over the lankier man completely, he pinned Merlin's arms down beneath his own, the doing the same with his legs. Laid open below him, Merlin met his eyes, and witnessed the fire within them. Determined to prove that he would meet him touch for touch, the sorcerer reached up and grabbed the blond by both sides of his face. Careful not to harm him, he jerked Arthur's face to his. When he made their lips collide, a fever of want that had been built up by many centuries of waiting, found an outlet in the way their lips and tongues slid against each other fervently.
In the wee hours of the morning, when the two had finished with one another, both sported various bites and scratch marks that told any other who might happen to see one, that each of them were taken.