Rating: T

A/N: Originially written for a kinkme - merlin prompt (Arthur gets off on seeing Merlin dressed in chainmail and Pendragon red because it makes him feel a little more like Merlin belongs to him.)

Disclaimer: I, in no way, shape, or form, own BBC's Merlin and take no credit for the show's plot and characters.

Arthur knew that what he wanted to say was something he could never put into words.

That Merlin was his and that no one else could ever take him away. It ached in him, a deep throb that was suspiciously like jealousy and a bit like sorrow, every time he saw Merlin smile at someone else, laugh with someone else, save someone else.

He certainly could not tell Merlin – the other man might laugh in his face, or declare in that calm, wise voice he sometimes had that, no, Arthur, I'm not yours. I am my own.

It terrified Arthur, the thought of that possibility. The thought of losing Merlin all for his strange selfishness and odd desire to gather Merlin up in his arms and hold him there forever.

And, he found over the years that the roiling, hungry desire could be temporarily subdued. Arthur pulled those memories out on his loneliest days to examine again and allow that dark voice inside to crow a constant litany of mine, mine, mine.

Moments when Merlin would done his colors. The Pendragon colors. Arthur's red.

The sight of him wrapped up in Arthur's spare cloak when camping or wearing the ceremonial robes during feasts were enough for him.

For a while.

And then, Arthur came to realized it wasn't enough anymore. The hunger in him growled for more. To cover Merlin up completely, from head to toe. To smother him under everything that was Arthur.

He finally found the opportunity when they needed a decoy against Caerleon's army. Arthur smirked when all the knights backed away and left Merlin as the 'volunteer' for the trap. And then his smile widened as he realized what this meant.

Grabbing Merlin by the arm, Arthur scooped up his pack and tugged Merlin back behind a stand of trees. Releasing the other man, he said, "Go ahead and take off your clothes."

He could hear noises of sputtering and coughing behind him as he started tugging items out of his bag. "Merlin, we haven't got all day," he snapped, turning around to find the man was still fully-clothed.

Fingers trembling slightly, Arthur reached out and tugged at Merlin's shirt with a set of rather awkward gestures, "Go on then, off, off."

Merlin reached up and brushed off Arthur's hands gently. Arthur met his eyes and nearly flinched to see a bit of Merlin's typical kindness shining out at him. Here he was trying to feed the hunger within him without Merlin's consent. "Unlike you," Merlin commented, voice sly and teasing, "I can actually dress myself."

Arthur ducked his head and handed over the tunic and his spare set of chainmail. The set that Merlin had grumbled over packing until he commented that Arthur was wounded more than any other knight Merlin knew and so perhaps he should just wear both. All the time. Arthur had thrown a sweaty rag at him so Merlin would shut up.

He turned his back as Merlin pulled on the items behind him, listening to the clink of the chainmail and the rustle of cloth over skin. The rush of blood and desire under his skin raced down through his shaking hands and through his pounding heart as he waited.

"Alright, then," Merlin declared, "Do I get one of the fabled Pendragon cloaks as well?"

Though his tone was facetious once again, Arthur's heart seemed lodged in his throat as he turned around and pulled his own cloak down from his shoulders. His eyes slowly roved over Merlin's torso as Arthur swung the cloak around him.

His fingers were trembling again as he fixed the clasp against Merlin's throat and he felt flush as he met Merlin's eyes again.

The other man was smiling at him in a bemused manner and then he slowly leaned forward. "You've been wanting to do that for a long time, haven't you?" he asked, breath hot against Arthur's ear.

Arthur really did flush as he jerked back and attempted to shake his head with his suddenly stiff neck.

Merlin's hand found his and the other man continued with, "It's alright."

Sucking in a sharp breath, Arthur stared at Merlin, reading the complete sincerity on the servant's face. "I," he started, voice surprising him at how rough and low it sounded. "I just…"

Stepping back slightly, Merlin swirled the cloak around himself slightly and the minx smiled gleefully when Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat. "We'll talk about this later," Merlin declared, smirking still. "Sire," he added, "By your leave."

Winking, the dark-haired man trotted off towards the hill they discussed earlier as his position and left Arthur leaning against a tree, eyes fixed on the sight of Merlin wearing everything that was his.

Mine, the voice rumbled happily, all mine.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated ;)