A/N: as promised! I have a lot of ideas for the next chapter, so i'll get started on it. Maybe a week or two until the next update. enjoy the merthur, R&R, beautiful babies :D

I ended up calling a taxi. Merlin was too much to handle on my own; he would distract me if I drove him back to his flat, even worse finding our way back to where I had parked in the first place. I remembered the directions to Merlin's flat off the top of my head, fortunately, from a couple days ago when I dropped him off. The cab-driver helped me carry him through the door of the residence, on influence of a healthy tip. The loopy kid licked his lips and tried to fish his keys out of his trousers, and after insisting that he had given them to me, finally found them in his back pocket. Most people seemed to be asleep on the level, and I had to cover my friend's mouth to keep him from waking up his neighbors.

"Arthurrr, I wa-mmph-"

"Shhh. Shut up."

"Mm- but—"

"I said shut up," I would hiss, trying to keep a straight face. About to break into laughter, but I couldn't show it, or he would just try more. "You'll wake everyone."

He spoke then in a slurred and soft tone, at least sweetly trying to obey my words as I fumbled with the key to his flat.

"Arthur, I'm huuuungry."

"I'll get you something in a minute," I whispered, unlocking his door and pushing it open. I took my friend's hand, guiding him inside.

It was indeed messy. Not trash-everywhere messy, but more lived-in untidy; the dishes weren't put away in the kitchen, the bed was slightly unkempt, and his school books spread out on a desk. I could pretty much see his entire flat from the door. There was an open space, with his desk in the front room, and to the right a small door to the washroom. To the right was a little kitchen, and right in front of me, was his bed, next to the window. A small bed with blue striped blankets and linen-white pillows that had fallen onto the floor, with a side table with his alarm clock and a couple forgotten cups of water. Checking the clock in the first time in forever, I saw it was, in fact, the next day. 2:43 am; shit, we'd been out forever.

"Oh, I told you it was messy," Merlin laughed, walking straight for a moment before stumbling. He caught himself on the desk, picking up a scrap piece of paper inspectively, before tossing it aside and standing back up again.

"It's rather nice, really. It suits you." I closed the door gently behind me, leaving the keys to the flat on his desk on an open textbook. I headed to the kitchen, to make Merlin something to eat. The more he ate, the more sober he would be after an hour or so.

The teenager made his way to his bed, sitting down and falling on his side while his legs swung off the edge. He stared at the door, though listening to me as I rummaged in the kitchen.

"You kn-know," Merlin hiccuped, rubbing his eyes, "I had to pay for this my—myself." The boy flung his arms out wide, his right hand hitting the window pane, showing off his small flat. "Ow… It's all mine."

"Ah, I see." I smiled at drunk Merlin, my chest filled with a warm feeling of satisfaction on seeing how happy he was. Despite, you know, being completely out of it. I dug through his pantry, pulling out some old bread and a couple bottles of water. I continued, looking through the small fridge for anything to slap into something edible.

"I've always wanted a flat to myself."

"Have you now?"

"Yes." I saw Merlin try to stand, but fall limply down against his mattress against the window. He hit the back of his head on the frame, causing him to yelp loudly.

"You okay?" I asked with a laugh. He was amusingly clumsy when drunk.

"Y-eah..." he chuckled, wincing a bit as he sat up again.

I brought over the lousy peanut-butter-jelly sandwich I had made, slopped together on a plate, along with two bottles of water and sat them down on Merlin's bedside table.

"I don't feel so good."

"Because you're plastered, Merlin," I said before sitting down next to him on his tiny bed. "You bloody idiot… I didn't know you could drink that much."

"I'm s-so drunk right now."

"Yes, you are. Eat that," I coaxed, giving him the plate. He picked it up and then uncertainly put it back down again.

"I'm not hungry," he muttered, his flushed cheeks growing redder. "I don't want food."

"But you just said a minute ago-!" I protested, before realizing that arguing with him like this wasn't going to amount to much.

"Sorry," he muttered, obviously feeling guilty.

I sighed, taking the sandwich and all but tossed it back onto the plate on the side table. "At least drink your water. Sober up a little."

"A-alright," he agreed, attempting to unscrew the cap with all the ease of an elephant. I chuckled, taking the bottle and popping off the cap for him.

"Idiot."

"Thank you," he said unlike his usual response of 'prat', raising the plastic bottle to his lips and draining half of it. He moaned unexpectedly, and I watched him closely as the brunette sat the bottle back down and wiped his mouth. "…you fucking praaat." Ah, there it was. "Aren't you drunk?"

"Nah. I had to take care of you." Merlin gave me a skeptical look, added with his toxicity, made his face rather hilarious. "Arthur wouldn't do that," he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve again. "And he most definitely wouldn't make me a sandwich. He's probably out drunk ri' now."

"I'm here, I had to make sure you didn't fucking kill yourself," I smirked, sure that Merlin was just confused.

"Driving around in his goddamn fancy schmancy car..." he hiccupped. "He took me out tonight, y'know. Arthur Pendragon."

"Yeah, I did..."

"He flaunts his name l-like he's the goddamn queen," Merlin laughed. "Arthur can be such a praaat. But he likes m-me. For s-some reason."

"Oh." He really thought I was someone else.

"He likes me. Arthur Pendragon is my friend," Merlin sighed contentedly, shifting on the bed to grab at me. "Arthur is so pretty..."

"What?"

Merlin fumbled with my shirt, finally getting a grip on my collar. I kept my hands rigid at my sides, taking slow breaths, fighting the urge to maul Merlin's lips and take him drunk in his own bed.

"Allthe girls say so. I can hear them, all the—everywhere. Everywhere they just w-whisper and blab about Arthur being so pretty. He's so pretty. They all like him." I blinked, worried on where this disconfigured conversation was going. "You're not Arthur," Merlin scrunched his nose at me, the air alcohol soaked because of the proximity. He laughed, dropping his head against my chest with a snort. "Arthur's all...'oooh, Merlin, I'm a stuuubborn p-piece of hiiigh-class hot shit'..."

"Really now?" I tried to scoot backwards to gain some space. As much as I wanted to take advantage of him, I knew I would be disgusted with myself if Merlin woke up sober in the morning, unaware of what had happened.

"Yeah," he sniffed. "You haven't been like that. You m-made me a sandwich. But, I mean, I guess he's gotta be that way. Pendragon this, Pendragon thaaat…" He nudged closer again, causing me in turn to move farther back on the small bed, near the wall and the window. "Arthur thinks he's the best. He's stubborn, and-and- he just..." Merlin stopped, shifting even closer, his breath hot on my neck.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"He's too perfect," Merlin bit his lip, forehead against my chest. My heart leapt, and I tried to scramble out from under him, but couldn't. "B-but I don't...he doesn't..."

"What?" I exhaled, keeping my hands clenched at my sides.

"He wouldn't be okay with it, wouldn't like it, I know it," Merlin moaned, his lips unconsciously dusting against my neck.

"Merlin?" I tried, mostly just to hear my own voice.

This wasn't a damn dream. I could talk, I could do whatever I wanted, and I would be responsible for the consequences.

"You can't be Arthur, cause I bet you'll let me..." Merlin pressed his lips to the crook of my neck, hands up against my chest. "Arthur'll probably be mad at m-me tomorrow..." he trailed off, finally sitting up enough to face me, fingers fidgeting with my shirt, tugging the collar down. His face was flushed, shyly avoiding my eyes. "Yoooou look like him. You're nice-looking. You're as pretty as Arthur is. But he wouldn't want to…want to be called pretty, so don't tell him," he giggled.

"Merlin." My back was against the wall now; I couldn't move to gain any space. The drunk brunette was up against me, desperate for attention, from a man he obviously didn't know was his friend. He was spilling his deepest secrets that I probably never would have guessed. He was confessing to me without knowing it, and was now tugging at my shirt from inbetween my legs, unbeknownst to him that he had everything he wanted. "It's Arthur. I'm right here, I swear."

"I know you're not, ya priiick..." Merlin frowned, leaning his head on my shoulder. "He's—"

"I'm right here."

"—out with girls. Arthur liiikes girls. He must like them. They're always cheering for him, out in the…in the stands. In football. Because he's so good at football. Y'know he's very good. The girls all are there, and they cheer and—and then there's me there too."

"Kiss me."

"But A-Arthur wouldn't let me kis-" I beat him to it, pulling Merlin by the back of his head into a rough kiss. He moaned, even at the first touch of lips, his arms falling limp, fingers dragging my collar down. It was wet, the taste of alcohol tainting my tongue, which only added to the weightlessness of it. This wasn't a dream.

"You're so wrong," I snarled, pushing Merlin back onto his own blue sheets, planting kisses along the edge of his mouth and roughly tugging at his hair to pull his head to the side.

"Arrthur-"

He still held fast to my shirt, a bond which I broke in order to get up off of Merlin's small, blue-sheeted bed. I walked to the door, flicking the light switch so the room was only cast in the faint glow from the city outside Merlin's window. Quickly unbuttoning them, I shrugged off my trousers, almost tripping over myself to jump back on top of Merlin. He had just sat up, and as his eyes adjusted to regain vision, I pushed him roughly back down and smashed my mouth against his.

I was rougher than I had to be; too feral for the first time I was doing this with him. Though, Merlin didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to moan even louder when I, for example, would bite hard into his shoulder, and rake my teeth across his neck. Lick and such at certain spots, to make sure they turned a dull red colour in the morning. Dig my blunt nails into his skinny hips, and hold him tight as I ground into him through the only undergarments left. He would inhale sharply every time I decided to squeeze; anything really. Whether it was his arse, his thigh, his crotch—Merlin would gasp and then moan out my name so avidly I just had to do it again.

An audible gasp. "Arthur…"

Another intake of breath. "Ooh my god Arthur—"

This time it seemed almost in panic, like if he didn't take a breath that he would suffocate. "O-oh jesus, Arthur, fuck…" he whimpered, burying his hands in his own dark hair, letting out another simpering whine.

I couldn't take it then—I had reached my limit. Those sounds just melting from his lips were candy, one after the other, absolutely delicious. A white hot energy washed over me, causing a sudden change in position and intensity. One second we were lying down on the bed, the next I had sat up on my knees, picked up the brunette and flattened him against the window. Thank god the glass didn't break, but the thought was only a flicker across my mind as I pulled at Merlin's hair, moving my hips roughly against his. The vocal chorus of sounds increased, the whimpering and moaning searing through my core.

Merlin seemed to regain at least some consciousness from his lust ridden, drunk as hell daze, enough to lift his arms and run his fingers through my hair—I shuddered uncharacteristically at the touch, but covered it up with another drive of my hips into Merlin's. He struggled in his position between the window and I, wrapping a leg around my waist and tugging at my shirt. Which reminded me that I even had a shirt on, as did he. I took care of that quickly, tossing them onto the floor, taking a moment to assess his markless skin. A sudden urge hit me, only describable as the urge of indulging in a dessert, wherein I again smothered him against the window.

I saw Merlin's eyes flutter at the new skin-on-skin contact, along with an audible reaction. Now I was in my boxers, and Merlin still in his trousers, rutting against him into the window like a sex deviant. I unbuttoned the other's trousers as well, having to shift backwards to maneuver them off of Merlin's tired legs. In the process, he was now on his knees, as was I, only dimly illuminated by the city's faint glow at 3 in the morning. Feeling my pulse slow down a bit, I raised my hands to cup Merlin's face, and tilt his head gingerly into a lazy kiss. Less sloppy, or rushed as I had been before; without the footnote of panicking if he was going to disappear. He sank into it, going limp yet again, so I slumped down after him. Supporting myself on top of him, weighted into the cheap blue sheets on his tiny bed, moving my lips leisurely against his.

It hardly seemed to cross my mind at how drunk Merlin was, at the time. It only caved on me when the poor teenager couldn't hold his hips up any longer. The strength in his arms seemed to dissipate as well, his limbs going limp and causing a weight on my shoulders rather than a desperate grip. Merlin's movements, if sloppy before, were now pitiful. As he became more and more unresponsive, I was torn between smiling at his efforts and frustration for his lack of stamina. I wanted to kiss this idiot. I wanted to have him for myself. Fuck him into his stupid blue sheets, in his undersized bed, in his small little flat. But I ended up taking the side of sympathy, because he was drunk and couldn't help being tired; I unlocked myself from Merlin's lips, giving him a quick peck on the forehead before pulling away. Make that two more kisses on his lips, two on his jawline, one on his neck… Okay no more.

"Ar…." Merlin visibly struggled to stay awake. His eyes were more than half mast, closing slowly and suddenly opening again, in an effort to stay conscious. I rolled over onto the left side of him, farther from the window, on the edge of the bed, and watched him blink his eyes and drift off to sleep. He looked so content, though alcohol was still fresh in his system, messy hair (from the night, and now recently) framing his face. I didn't know how long I laid there, just sinking into the feeling of being next to Merlin like this; his breathing slow, blush still tainting his cheeks, barely visible in the dim light from the window.

Fuck, I'm in love.

Getting up, I held out my hands in front of me...to look for his pajamas or something. I didn't want him to freak out tomorrow morning, intertwined on his tiny bed. No, I would sleep on the floor tonight, and see if he remembered anything the next day about what had happened...knowing there was a high possibility he wouldn't, I felt cheated. I wanted Merlin to have remembered...ill timing on my part, I never should have let him drink so much. Then again, perhaps I never would have found out how Merlin actually...felt...about me... My heart did a fucking disgusting twirl or some shit, taking in the fact that this shitty situation might actually work out for me. A goofy smile played across my face, for no one else to see, not even Merlin cause it was dark and he was knocked out.

I found the loo, at least, and turned on the light. My pupils contracted painfully, as I tried to shield my eyes, but kept quiet as not to wake the one sleeping not ten feet away. I cursed quietly, turning around to see if the light would help me find where Merlin kept his goddamn nightwear; a dresser, a cupboard, something. It didn't help. I swore again, only a barely audible hiss in the quiet flat, the muffled sound of cars and faint breathing from Merlin the only things heard. Glancing around one more time, I decided to give up on pajamas, and the idea of being a gentleman for Merlin. At least I was kind enough to remove Merlin's clothes for him—sleeping in jeans is terrible, he really owed me a 'thank you' for stripping him down.

I smiled again, turning off the light to the loo and felt my way back to the small bed. Maybe I would sit with him for a little while; not fall asleep, of course, but just lay next to him. I pulled on his blanket that had amassed underneath his body, and tried my best to pull it over him. And I sat down next to him. Laid down. Got under the blanket and rested my head next to his. Why not? It was cold, and he owed me for dragging his arse home. I was still trying to shift into a comfortable position when I looked up and saw his eyes open. I caught his gaze, stopping.

"Did I wake you?" I whispered.

Merlin shook his head, though it was barely perceptible. That mushy, fucking blissful feeling washed over me again for some reason, and I whispered to him again in a content voice.

"Go to sleep. It's late." I bit my lip, running a couple fingers through his hair.

He blinked, eyes still half-mast with exhaustion. Merlin didn't reply, and barely had the energy to shift his weight so he was leaning into me. One hand up against my chest, so close that his forehead touched my chin. I inhaled sharply, deciding whether to get up before I didn't have the willpower to. But he was just so warm, and before I knew what had happened, I wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed him on his hairline. Merlin made an almost inaudible, content sound, tucking his head under my chin. I resolved to wake up before him in the morning, and make myself a believable bed on the floor… but this was fine for now.

Better than fine. Perfect.

A/N: I promise sex. Soon. Just not quite yet /winks

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