Disclaimer: I am poor, I own nothing, blah blah blah
WARNINGS: Sexual situations/encounters, SLASH, language. PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF M RATING.
IMPORTANT NOTE - Sorry for the delay in updating, but I went into hospital for an operation a couple of weeks ago (for nothing life-threatening), and have obviously not been feeling all that great since I was discharged. I did write on my profile that the update would be late, so if in doubt in the future check out my page. If I know I won't be able to update for a while, I will write it there. Updates might be slower now, because I'm not in full health, and it depends on how I am feeling. You've been warned, and thanks very much for your patience! :)
A/N Before I get on with the fic, there are a couple of questions people have asked that I'd like to address.
1) There have been a few people that have asked about Merlin's skills in this fic. I've stated before that he has no magic, but he won't be entirely useless. A lot of this fic is about him finding his feet (and his strength) and he definitely will in the chapters coming up. Soon Arthur will need him.
2) In reply to HELEN, I can't tell you what Merlin is in prison for, because it's a big part of the story later. Sorry! The answer will be revealed eventually though! ;)
Cellmate - Chapter 6
Back to Reality
It had been two days since Merlin and Arthur had finally had sex, and the night was never far from Merlin's mind. Try as he might, he just couldn't put the experience behind him. Something wasn't right, something didn't fit, and he wanted to know why.
Arthur had never shown sexual interest in him before that night, except perhaps for his half-hearted proposition weeks before, and Merlin was beginning to question the motivations behind his cellmate's abrupt change of heart. The blond had obviously been distressed by Lancelot's attack, and Merlin had been easy and convenient - an outlet to his worry and anger. The thought upset Merlin more than he'd care to admit, and he wasn't sure why. He barely liked Arthur most the time - why should he care?
But sometimes - before he'd catch himself - he'd reminisce over the way Arthur's skin had felt against his and the way his hair had smelt of smoke and sandalwood. He knew it was stupid, but he found himself growing increasingly obsessed, fascinated by the way Arthur's twisted mind worked.
His maddening bi-polar, multifaceted personality was so frustrating and difficult to figure out, Merlin was beginning to regard cracking his cellmate's hard exterior as a personal challenge. He knew from what Gwen had told him that Arthur wasn't necessarily an evil person, and for the first time - during the night Lancelot had been injured - Merlin had believed her. He'd actually seen the blond as a real person with genuine feelings, rather than a battle-hardened robot intent on making him feel as uncomfortable and inadequate as possible.
But it was strange - Merlin had never felt so conflicted over someone before. Never had he hated someone and liked them so much at the same time. He blamed his hormones entirely.
His obvious growing obsession with Arthur and his unwillingness to let the whole thing go, however, was beginning to put strain on his other relationships. Will for example, was in absolute despair. After telling Merlin not so subtly to pull himself together and stop pining, he had taken to snapping his fingers in front of his friend's face every time he started to daydream.
"Stop it! Arthur does not have any other levels. He is a criminal, Merlin. He is not any more complicated than that. I don't know what you're looking for, but whatever it is, it's not there. You had sex once - that's it! Get over it!" Will had taken to telling him, as though trying to bring him back to reality and remind him that Arthur was cruel and untrustworthy.
But he needn't of bothered. Merlin had not forgotten Arthur's dismissal after they'd slept together, and it still hurt to think about it. He may have taken to admiring the blond from afar, but he certainly wasn't talking to him.
Since that night Arthur had tried to slip back into their previous routine - consisting mostly of snippy banter and half-assed threats - but Merlin rarely responded. Their strained interactions were making him feel uneasy and he was beginning to wonder what the blond truly wanted from him, now that the sex was over with. He wasn't sure Arthur even knew, for he was distant, then friendly, then snappy, and Merlin was beginning to get whiplash from his increasingly erratic behavior.
His mood seemed to rapidly decline the longer Lancelot's absence continued, whether because he genuinely missed him, or because he lacked sex, was anybodies guess. His mood was so foul that even the druids were giving him a wide berth, except perhaps Mordred, whose lingering and silent presence only seemed to aggravate Arthur further.
But whatever the reasoning, something had to change soon, because Merlin didn't think he could handle the tense atmosphere for one day longer.
Dragging himself out of bed the next morning, Merlin sighed, running a hand through his bed hair. He descended the ladder of the bunk and staggered to his feet, trying to shake of his brain's early-morning fogginess.
Arthur was still in bed but evidently wide awake, watching his cellmate through slightly hooded eyes. Merlin avoided his gaze and turned to get dressed. He could feel Arthur's now familiar glare on the back of his head and chose to ignore it, attempting instead to appear as cool and nonchalant as possible.
All pretence was lost however, when the blond started to speak.
"You know, if I'd of known you were going to be such a prissy bitch afterwards, I would never of had sex with you," Arthur informed him, voice bland and twinged with sleep.
Merlin started and spun on a heel, almost spluttering with indignation. "Excuse me?" he cried.
"I said - "
"I know what you said!" he all but squawked, seconds away from snatching Arthur's pillow and beating him over the head with it. "I am not a prissy bitch!"
"No," Arthur said sarcastically, "You're handling this with real dignity and grace."
Merlin let out a huff, but could hardly argue the point; neither dignity nor grace were one of his more prominent characteristics. "Well, I'm sorry I don't meet your standards, your majesty! Not all of us are unfeeling bastards!"
Rather than threaten Merlin for being so disrespectful, Arthur sat up in bed and regarded him with a confused expression. "I thought you understood, Emrys - everyone else does. What happened…well, it's just what I do."
"Yeah, well, it's not what I do," Merlin snapped, dragging on a shirt and storming out the cell, leaving Arthur blinking blearily behind him.
He charged down to breakfast intent on ranting and raving, only to be disappointed when he realised he was so early Will had not yet arrived. He trudged to the breakfast queue feeling suddenly downtrodden, approaching the counter and regarding the watery porridge with distaste.
"Do you have anything else?" he asked the prisoner serving, wrinkling his nose. After having porridge every morning for the last few weeks, he swore he was beginning to develop an allergy towards it, which only succeeded in souring his mood further.
The server stared at him, regarding Merlin with such astonishment it was as though he'd just dropped out the sky. He was broad and stocky, with dark hair and a heavy brow. "Sausages, bacon and beans. As usual," he replied, in short clipped sentences that left little room for argument.
"I'm a vegetarian," Merlin pointed out.
"So, have beans," the server responded, sounding distinctly unimpressed. "Or porridge."
Merlin sighed and held out his tray. "I'll have porridge then, shall I?"
The server gave him a smug smile. "Good choice," he said, picking up a very heavy ladle and spooning the porridge into his tray with far more force than was necessary.
Merlin frowned but said nothing, slinking over to his usual table and sitting down, wanting nothing more than to dump his tray on somebodies head. Preferably Arthur's.
Will joined him a few minutes later.
"So, in a good mood yet?" he asked, dipping an experimental finger into his own porridge and putting it into his mouth. He looked at Merlin carefully. "No? Didn't think so."
"The server wouldn't let me have anything but porridge," Merlin said, in a rather mournful voice.
"That's…really tragic," Will responded hesitantly, looking as though he wasn't sure whether to laugh or look sympathetic. Instead he took a stab at changing the subject, obviously eager to keep Merlin distracted and the conversation going. "So, are you going to be showering anytime soon?"
Merlin blinked. "What?"
Will rolled his eyes. "Are you going to shower? You haven't in two days. I couldn't help but notice."
Merlin opened his mouth and floundered for a few minutes, looking down at the table. He'd avoided the showers since his night with Arthur, mostly because he still had marks all over his body and was unwilling to flash them to everyone. It would confirm his involvement with Arthur to Mordred, and probably result in a lot of abuse from other prisoners. But it had been two days, the marks had not yet faded, and he was beginning to smell; he feared he was just going to have to suck it up and take a wash.
"Yeah, I'm going to shower," Merlin admitted, causing Will to give him a smile. He shifted uncomfortably and looked around the cafeteria, just imagining the other prisoners reaction to his marks. He couldn't let them see, not if he wanted to get out this place alive. "I'll go in a minute, before everyone's finished breakfast."
Spurred on by the thought, he devoured his porridge with new gusto. He all but polished his plate and clapped his hands together, rising from his seat.
"Let's go, shall we?" he said, realising that if he was going to make it through showering without getting molested, he'd have to do it now. He grabbed Will's shirt sleeve and tugged him to his feet, marching him quickly out of the cafeteria. "Come on."
Will looked bemused by his words, but didn't say anything, seemingly still half-asleep. He let Merlin lead him to the shower rooms without even complaining, forehead creased blearily. It was only when they entered the changing rooms that he commented, bewildered by Merlin's change of mood.
"Christ, I don't think I've ever been this early for a shower before," he said, looking around the almost deserted changing rooms. "Any particular reason you're in such a rush?"
Merlin stripped off his shirt, turned into the corner, and flapped his arms around his chest. "Look," he exclaimed, gesturing to the various marks discolouring his skin.
"Oh," Will mouthed, staring with far more scrutiny than Merlin was entirely comfortable with. "Wow, Arthur really went for it, didn't he?"
Merlin glared.
"No wonder you wanted to hide them," his friend continued hastily, quickly brushing over his mention of Arthur. "If the other prisoners saw, well, the words 'Prison Bitch' come to mind."
Merlin closed his eyes and groaned, running a nervous hand through his hair. "Worse than that, Mordred would assume I'm sleeping with Arthur."
Will eyed his speculatively, and shrugged. "But…you are?"
"No," Merlin argued, flushing at the very thought, either from anger or embarrassment, he wasn't sure. "I'm not. I did ONCE. As you've pointed out numerous times. But if Mordred still thinks I'm in some sort of relationship with him, he might attack me again; look what happened to Lancelot."
"Well, I suggest you hurry up then," Will prompted, conceding the point and waving an arm in the direction of the showers. "Before everyone comes in from breakfast."
Merlin wrapped a towel around his waist and shed his trousers, avoiding Will's searching gaze. He was just beginning to fold his clothes when the changing room doors opened again, and more prisoners began to enter.
Cheeks reddening, he all but dived into the shower room - before his friend had so much as removed his shirt.
Unfortunately, he almost ran straight into the very two people he had wanted to avoid: Arthur, and Mordred.
He froze, silently cursing, and fought the urge to turn on a heel and run.
Merlin could see Arthur's back directly in front of him, long, lean and golden, even through the mist. He was stood opposite a ghostly looking Mordred, whose hair was black with moisture, his bright blue eyes almost the only parts of him visible against the whiteness of the steam. The druid spotted Merlin immediately, lip curling in distaste, but he said nothing. Arthur, facing the other way, did not. Merlin didn't know whether that was a good thing.
"Well, what a surprise, seeing you here," Mordred said after a strained silence, his gaze leaving Merlin and returning to the blond in front of him. His voice was low and level, bored even, but it still sent shivers down Merlin's spine.
"I knew you'd be here early and I wanted to talk," Arthur said, sounding by contrast rather like he wanted to punch Mordred in the face. His shoulders were steeled and tense, muscles contorting from the effort to stop himself leaping on the druid.
"Interesting choice of setting," Mordred said. "Where there's conveniently no guards."
Arthur scowled. "There are other prisoners. They'll arrive soon, but don't worry, this won't take long."
Mordred's gaze flickered to Merlin, but the blond appeared not to notice. "Yes, they will," he replied, rising his shoulders in something vaguely resembling a shrug. "So, I suggest you get on with whatever you wanted to say."
Arthur's hands curled into fists and he approached Mordred with a deliberate slowness, looking very much like a predator cornering his prey. The druid however, looked anything but intimidated. He watched Arthur's advance with bright blank eyes, posture relaxed and limbs unmoving.
"If you attack anyone I care about again, you will sincerely regret it," the blond hissed, so quietly Merlin could barely hear him.
A moment later he surged forwards, pushing Mordred up against the opposite wall.
Merlin inhaled a lungful of air, knowing he should leave while he still could, but unable to get his legs to process his brain's commands.
Arthur was now inches away from Mordred's face, arms braced on either side of him to prevent an escape.
"Oh, but Merlin was so much fun," Mordred deadpanned, expression steely.
The blond blinked, for a brief moment looking consorted, eyebrows creasing. "He's not who I meant - he's just my cellmate," he snapped.
Merlin flinched, unable to stop himself, and began to back slowly out the door again. It's not as though he was expecting anything less - especially after Arthur's recent treatment of him - but hearing it out loud was something he could have done without.
"Just your cellmate?" Mordred questioned coolly, looking over Arthur's shoulder and down at Merlin's chest. "Because he looks pretty ravished to me."
Arthur let out a low growl and raised his fist, a second away from propelling it into the druid's face.
But unfortunately, at that very moment, a loud shrill of, "Merlin!" interrupted the proceedings.
Will entered the room with a bang, finally undressed, all while calling for his friend at the top of his voice.
Everyone jumped.
Arthur in particular, was taken by surprise. He started and looked up, giving Mordred the brief opportunity he needed. Moving faster than Merlin's eyes could follow, the druid whipped himself out of Arthur's grasp and grabbed for the side of his face. Eyes glinting, he pushed forwards, and smacked Arthur's head hard against the white tiled wall.
Arthur's golden head collided with the wall with a sickening crunch, causing Merlin to leap back in horror, his heart shooting straight into his throat.
The blond slumped unconscious to the ground, head lolling, just as Will came up beside his friend, his mouth open and expression gaping.
Mordred looked down at Arthur's motionless form with polite disinterest, head lightly cocked. He paused for a moment before gliding forwards. Merlin and Will both froze instinctively, but the druid merely breezed straight past them and out the door, letting it swing shut behind him.
There was a stunned pause, before Will let out a choked breath, and managed a croaky, "What the fuck?"
Merlin ignored him and rushed over to Arthur's crumpled body, feet sliding dangerously over the slippery wet floor. He collapsed on his knees next to his cellmate and ran a hand through his messy damp hair, finding a small trickle of blood on his fingertips.
"Is he ok?" Will asked hesitantly, just as the door opened and three more prisoners walked in.
"I think so," Merlin replied, letting out a small sigh of relief, because Arthur was still breathing, and as far as he was considered, that was good. "I think he was just knocked out, but he needs to see Gwen."
One of the prisoners who had just arrived nodded, turning to head straight back out the door. "I'll alert someone," he announced, disappearing a moment later.
"What happened?" another asked, surveying Arthur's body in complete bewilderment, just as more shuffled through the door, eager to see the commotion.
"Fight between Arthur and Mordred," Merlin replied, by way of explanation.
"Yeah," the prisoner nodded, looking unsurprised. "That'll do it."
It was three hours later and Merlin was back in his room, having helped escort an unconscious Arthur to the medical bay. Gwen had confirmed his cellmate's injuries as severe concussion, but was still treating him, as he hadn't yet returned to the cell.
Merlin was waiting restlessly for his reappearance, if only to confirm to himself that Arthur was alright, considering he'd still been out cold when he'd left the medical bay. It had been rare and rather unnerving to see someone so formidable in in such a state. It was scary to think Mordred was capable of reducing him to a crumbled heap, and without it seemed, very much effort.
Before Merlin to work himself up into another state of panic, however, the cell door finally opened, and revealed a very haggard looking Arthur.
His head was wrapped in a small thin bandage, causing his hair to stick up in messy tuffs. He was stumbling slightly, deep bags under his eyes and clothes rumpled. If Merlin didn't know better, he'd have thought he was drunk.
"Are you ok?" he asked, watching the blond walk straight past him - in a stumbling sort of zig-zag - and collapse on top of his bed, bouncing slightly with the momentum.
"Hmm," Arthur replied, looking up at him through dazed eyes, as though he'd never seen him before. He was pale, paler than Merlin had ever seen him, a sheen of sweat was shining on his forehead.
Merlin frowned and drew closer, hovering over the bed. "Is that a yes?"
Arthur's brow furrowed, but he nodded. "Yeah…"
"Is your head ok?"
"Yeah…"
"Are you sure? You look strange," Merlin muttered, narrowing his eyes, surprised that the blond hadn't yet snapped at him. He drew in closer, trying to pinpoint his uncertainty, but the blond waved a lazy hand, attempting to bat him away.
"I'm feeling the effects of the drugs…I guess," he admitted after a moment, eyelashes fluttering.
Merlin's eyebrows shot into his hairline. What on earth did Gwen give him? Maybe it was the concussion. "Did Gwen give you some?"
"Yeah, but they didn't work very well," the blond explained, head lolling back against the pillows, "So I had to get some more."
Merlin paused, and his stomach sunk slightly, because he really didn't like where this whole conversation was going. "What do you mean?" he asked warily.
Arthur licked his lips and shrugged a bit, looking like he very much wanted to go to sleep, and really didn't want to deal with Merlin. "Well, it still hurt after Gwen gave me the painkillers," he explained, in a familiar long-suffering tone, although his words were slightly more slurred than usual. His eyes fluttering closed. "So…I-I went to Gaius for a bit of pain relief."
Merlin frowned. "Who's Gaius?"
"The prison drug dealer."
Merlin really should have been expecting it, but his mouth dropped open regardless. "Y-you went to the prison drug dealer?" he choked, sounding deadly calm.
"Hmm," came Arthur's sleepy reply, which Merlin assumed to mean 'yes'.
"A DRUG DEALER?" he cried, causing the blond to jerk upwards and blink blearily in surprise.
"Yeah…?" Arthur replied, looking completely bewildered, and now Merlin thought about it, completely spaced-out.
The dark-haired took a deep breath and attempted to gain control of himself, determined to explain the dangers to his apparently oblivious cellmate. "You mixed drugs…?" he continued, willing for Arthur to get the point and recognize his logic. But unfortunately, the blond appeared too dazed to do either.
In fact, the blond was practically asleep, muttering a very confused, "Yeah…?"
"You can't mix drugs!" Merlin cried, knowing it was falling on deaf ears but unable to stop himself. Did Arthur not care about his own health at all? He was supposed to be intelligent! Wasn't he a criminal mastermind or something?
"Well, the painkillers Gwen gave me didn't seem to be working, so I went to Gauis instead," Arthur explained, in a tone that suggested the answer was obvious, his head dropping back onto his pillows. "Then they all seemed to kick in at once."
Merlin surveyed his cellmate's slumped form and pursed his lips. "Obviously," he sniped.
Arthur's mouthed quirked but he said nothing more, apparently drifting straight to sleep. That or drug induced coma, Merlin wasn't sure.
"What did you take?" he questioned, shaking his cellmate's shoulder in order to regain his attention.
But the blond merely shrugged. "I dunno," he mumbled, unhelpfully, "Can't remember."
Merlin gritted his teeth. "Try harder."
"You're cute when you're all bossy," Arthur informed him, letting out a low chuckle and causing Merlin's heart to rocket into his throat. "But…I still can't remember."
"Arthur, it's important - you could have overdosed," Merlin said, shaking off the chills over his cellmate's unwitting flattery. Now was not the time to melt into a puddle of goo just because Arthur had actually complimented him; it was probably just the drugs messing with his mind.
"Don't be stupid," Arthur slurred. Apparently, even when drugged, he still thought Merlin was an idiot. It wasn't an encouraging thought. "I've done this before. I felt weird before, but I'm ok now. Just sleepy….And my head doesn't hurt anymore."
Merlin let out a sigh of exasperation, resisting the urge to smack his own head against the wall. "Well, that's ok then," he said sarcastically.
Arthur smiled, looking so blissed-out and dreamy that Merlin could barely contain the urge to either kiss him, or smack him upside the head. Until he ruined the moment. "If I could, I'd hit you," he mused.
Merlin rolled his eyes, actually relieved, because that sounded more like Arthur. "Well, at least you're still feeling like yourself then."
"Hmm," the blond agreed, without opening his eyes. Merlin watched him doze for a few moments, before Arthur interrupted his reverie. "Stop hovering," he muttered. Although his words were well within character, his voice lacked its usual bite, causing Merlin to frown in thinly concealed concern.
"Do you take drugs from Gaius often?" he asked, surprised at himself for daring to ask the blond such a personal question. But Arthur appeared to be so spaced-out, he was no longer his usual sharp defensive self; he merely gave Merlin a small smile, breathing soft and shallow.
"Dunno. Like every six months," he answered quietly, expression disconcertingly at ease. "I usually take them when I don't want to feel so…unhappy."
Merlin blinked, startled by the disarmingly honest admission. He took in a deep breath and prodded further, hoping the drugs had mellowed Arthur out enough that he wouldn't receive a punch. "Are you…unhappy now?" he questioned softly, praying the blond would not fly into an all too familiar rage.
Surprisingly, he didn't. His eyes remained closed and he spoke casually, as though talking about the weather. "Lancelot was attacked because of me. I miss him. Or I did. I don't feel much of anything at the moment."
"What do you mean?"
Arthur took in a deep breath, as though preparing himself for a long explanation. "The drugs. It's strange - like I have no control of my body."
"Or your mouth," Merlin replied instinctively, because he had no other way to reply to such a sentence. He was way out of his depth where Arthur was concerned, desperately floundering for something meaningful or at least remotely helpful to say. As per usual, he came up with nothing.
Arthur however, took Merlin's silence as a cue to continue talking.
"Now that Lancelot's gone, we should have sex again," he announced, in a casual tone, so random and out of the blue that Merlin could do nothing but splutter in response.
"What?"
"Keep up, Merlin," the blond said in an almost normal drawl, "I said -"
"I know what you said!" he exclaimed, flapping his arms, feeling a headache coming on. "But…you only have sex with people once. Apparently." He shook his head in confusion, suddenly wondering whether they'd got their wires crossed somewhere along the way. Or whether Will had been wrong from the start - something that would come of little surprise, if Merlin was honest.
"Not if I like them," Arthur replied, still dozing happily against his pillow, despite the obvious stroke he was giving the man next to him.
"Y-you like me?" Merlin cried, so shocked his voice had raised by several octaves. And despite his best efforts, he was unable to keep a small glimmer of hope from seeping into his words. He wanted to kick himself for his own stupidity.
"Not really," the blond responded, sounding so brutally honest that Merlin came crashing straight back down to earth. "You're cute, in a weird sort of way, but you really get on my nerves."
Merlin scowled, but Arthur merely gave him an amused sort of look, turning to grin happily up at the ceiling.
"Then why do you want to have sex again?" Merlin pressed.
Arthur's mouth contorted into a cheeky smile, eyes flickering open as he leant up on his forearms. "I dunno," he grinned lazily, leaning towards Merlin's body, head cocked and eyelashes fluttering. "You treat me…like a real person." Arthur's mouth descended on the curve of Merlin's neck, his words breathy against his cellmate's heaving throat. "There's just something about you."
Merlin's chest contracted, but he was frozen in place, unable to do anything but let the blond lay wet kisses across his skin. He knew it was a bad idea, just as he did the first time, but Arthur's words were soft and coaxing, reducing him to a bumbling quivering wreck. His mind was screaming at him to move, to push him off, but his limbs were not cooperating.
"Something about me?" he questioned shakily, causing the blond to pause. "Something you can't quite put your finger on?"
Arthur's gaze flicked up to Merlin's face and he nodded, seemingly pleased that his cellmate had understood him. "Yes, exactly," he responded, voice so low and gravely that it sent shivers down Merlin's spine.
"I know how that feels," he choked, gazing up at the ceiling and attempting to regain control of himself. It was exactly how he felt about Arthur.
The blond slipped his fingers under Merlin's shirt and smiled, stroking his stomach lightly. "And how does this feel?" he murmured, before palming his cellmate's already hardening erection.
Merlin gasped, and he jerked, making to move away. "Look Arthur, we can't do this," he hissed, panicked now. He couldn't do this again, especially with Arthur in such a state. "You've managed to drug yourself - I'd be taking advantage of you."
The blond stilled his movements, eyebrow raised, and he croaked, "You mean, like how I took advantage of you when you were comforting me about Lancelot?"
Merlin's gaze flitted away, the reminder sending a sharp jolt down to his stomach. But although he was still hurt by the encounter, he couldn't deny that he'd wanted Arthur just as much, if not more, than the blond had wanted him.
"I wanted it," he finally admitted, face flushing.
"And I want this," Arthur countered, undoing Merlin's zipper and slipping a hand into his boxers, stroking his erection. He grinned, wide and slightly lopsided. His eyes were glazed. "And it seems you do to."
Merlin let out a low moan, unable to deny it. He sank back into the pillows and raised his legs, allowing the blond to shimmy his trousers down his hips, exposing his cock to Arthur's hungry gaze.
"What are -? " Merlin broke off as his cellmate's mouth descended on his erection, taking him deep down his contracting throat. Merlin arched off the bed and bucked his hips, fisting locks of bright blond hair tightly, unable to prevent a ragged cry from escaping his throat.
Arthur chuckled at the sound, muscles vibrating around Merlin's cock. He sucked hard, bringing his mouth all the way to the base, rubbing his own erection against Merlin's leg with increasing intensity.
It didn't take long for Merlin to tense, thighs shaking, as he came down Arthur's throat. The blond swallowed his cum, letting him ride out his orgasm, while bringing himself quickly to his own release. He shuddered against Merlin's thighs, letting out a moan around his cellmate's softening cock and collapsing on top of his body.
Merlin blinked away the grogginess of his orgasm, tilting his head to look down at Arthur's slumped form. The blond had a hand pressed against his head, chest heaving, looking more dazed than he had before, as though he wasn't sure what had just happened.
Merlin waited, certain that the blond would soon desert him, but he appeared unable to do anything. They led in silence for a few minutes, Arthur's breath slowly evening. He looked so peaceful and still that Merlin almost thought he was asleep, until his reddened mouth opened, drowsily addressing the ceiling.
"What happened to Mordred?" the blond questioned, for the first time in the whole conversation, sounding somewhat interested. Like he had some wits about him again. "For injuring me?"
Merlin sighed. "Nothing. Claimed it was self-defence. And technically, you did try to hit him first."
Arthur let out a small huff, but appeared completely unable to show any greater display of anger. He merely turned his head, away from Merlin and towards the wall, apparently settling down to sleep. It was only when he spoke again, voice low and quiet, that Merlin realised he was still conscious.
"I hate him," the blond admitted into the darkness, drifting slowly off to sleep. "More than anything."
TBC...
A/N Took forever to update, and I don't even like this chapter. At all. FAIL.
And as for the drugs, my own experience with them is pretty much limited to hash brownies in Amsterdam, which isn't really the same thing. But I hope it worked. Something was required to loosen Arthur up. :S And shout-out to Gaius! He's not going to be in the story, but he deserved a mention. Next chapter: Lancelot's back!
Anyway, do the poor invalid patient a favor (that's me) and please R&R! Hours to write, minutes to review! :)