Title: In Love (Accidentally)
Content/Warnings: Dating, Romance, Modern AU, Friends To Lovers, Rough Sex
30 Day Challenge Prompt: Day #2 "kissing (naked)"
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He met Merlin in a flower shop, jumping over the counter, shoving him out of the path of a display of tumbling glass vases Merlin had knocked over.
In consequence, it landed Arthur with twenty-seven stitches and a new, very concerned friend who quit The Rising Sun after a week, or maybe was fired.
Arthur couldn't recall.
He doubted that had been what happened, for numerous reasons. Merlin was far too clumsy for the job anyway.
Though, Arthur did enjoy the scent of orchids and lilies on him, lingering on Merlin's undershirt, and on his bunched up, green florist apron, when they met up in the late afternoon. Sometimes going out for fish and chips. Sometimes with mates to the pub. Sometimes alone in Arthur's flat—an expressionless Merlin fingering through pristine, vintage records.
He liked a lot about Merlin. How his hands took such great care in touching an object, arranging it carefully. Memorizing its shape. How Merlin took his coffee—not at all. Arthur loathed the smell and the taste, and it was reassuring to know someone else shared his resentment.
How before the idea planted in Arthur's mind, Merlin took the lead—cupping their mitten hands together, fingers knitting. He kissed Arthur so softly, so so softly like Arthur was a wonder to him and it burned tears in his eyes.
It did turn out difficult to acknowledge his… feelings. Always had been.
Merlin would watch Arthur's face go red, and laugh, soundless. His eyes gleaming and squinted until Arthur could hardly see a sliver of blue.
Even if Merlin couldn't say a word to him, couldn't hear an apology or a love song on the radio, they had everything they wanted.
He still could feel Merlin's laugh, like trembling, invisible warmth on him; Merlin's hands stroking twin paths of heat up his back as Arthur pinned him down beneath him, grinding hips.
Merlin's kisses making tiny, feathering pecks across the bridge of Arthur's nose, down his jaw. And then, Arthur would knee him purposely striking his abdomen in warning, mock-frowning when Merlin blew a noisy raspberry against his throat, with a shit-eating grin and all.
It wouldn't matter that Merlin was naked and kiss-bruised and plastered in Arthur's come, or that he himself was covered in noticeable red scratches all down the planes of his sun-golden shoulders and back… or that Merlin was simply the best thing that had ever gotten Arthur hurt…
… if need be, he would tan Merlin's sorry hide for being such a blighter.
As nice as it was when Merlin's round, lily-white bum filled Arthur's hands.
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