A/N: This just popped into my head and I really couldn't tell you why. I must warn you, it's a bit sad. Sorry.
oxoxxOxxoxo
He tried not to fall in love with him. He really did, but trying and actually achieving something were two entirely different things. It was a rather difficult task and he often complained to himself how horrifically unfair it all was. Why should he have to try, when all the young maidens of Camelot could waist their days swooning over the charming prince without punishment? Sure, they couldn't do anything about it, but at least they could dream. Merlin wasn't afforded that luxury, he couldn't be. So everyday he fought to push his feelings for Arthur out of his mind. It was a losing battle, but he tried all the same.
He tried not to run his fingers through the golden tresses that wrapped around the prince's head like a halo in the morning when he helped him get dressed. He tried not to get lost in the oceanic blue eyes that sometimes met his own. He tried not to focus on the pouty lips that ordered him around and frequently annoyed him with pratty remarks. He tried not to let his hands linger when he helped the prince into his armor. He tried not to lean in and sniff the sweet aroma of Arthur after he bathed. There were so many things he tried not to do, but he was failing so spectacularly.
Arthur wasn't making it any easier for him, and Merlin could swear on his life that the clotpole knew exactly what he was doing. Yes, he knew what he was doing when he'd pull off his shirt to reveal his toned, muscular body before slipping behind the dressing screen as he should have done to begin with. He knew what he was doing when he brushed his hand against Merlin's ever so slightly as he handed him his sword. He knew what he was doing when he'd stand a bit closer than necessary as he spoke to Merlin, close enough for Merlin to feel the warmth of his body. And he most definitely knew what he was doing when he'd speak to his manservant in that husky, authoritative voice that made the young man want to lick Arthur all over.
He knew. He just had to know. But Merlin took no comfort in the fact that his romantic feelings for the prince were being returned, because as much as they might love each other they both knew it could never be. It did them no good to give in to lust, to take comfort in each others arms, enjoying the present and fretting the future. Indulging themselves in one another would end catastrophically for both men. They'd only be fooling themselves if they believed anything differently.
For the prince was to be King someday and would require an heir, something Merlin could not offer him. Never mind the scandal. The prince bedding a man? A servant at that? Uther would never stand for it. Never. Heartache lurked at every corner for the star-crossed lovers. So they spoke nothing of their love, continuing the facade of Prince Arthur and his trusted manservant. And should a hand linger on a touch or should their eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, then it was all coincidental and completely innocent. They tried not to fall into such habits. They really did. They tried.