998 NE, Summer

Arthur cut their time at the estate short after the mishap at the river. They rode back to Tear, the sun beating down on them, hot and fierce. Merlin wrapped a damp neck cloth around his head, trying to keep himself cool as he plodded down the dusty road.

"If you fall off your horse I'll leave you there," said Arthur. "You've been utterly useless these past days. My duties at Tear had to wait because you fell ill, Merlin."

"You didn't have to wait for be to get over my spell, Sire." Merlin took a sip of warm water, its flavour strong from sitting in its leather flask.

"They would saddle me with some other servant and I'd have to train him. At least you get things right some of the time," said Arthur, looking back at him. As if he hadn't been concerned for Merlin's sickness, coming in to press a cool cloth to his head, calling for the local healer to come attend.

"You honour me, Lord," said Merlin, voice tinged with sarcasm. He flapped his hand to create a breeze; there was nothing worse than riding with the wind. It felt like the earth had come to a standstill except for the baking sun, the air heavy to breathe. The dusty road rippled like water, shimmering the Stone of Tear into a waving image as they drew nearer. He felt like they would never get there; it was all Arthur's fault for deciding to after breaking the morning fast, rather than earlier in the day. He grumbled under his breath.

The streets were sparse of people; who'd learned to take mid-day breaks from the heat. They rode down the streets without having to make way for the usual ragged urchins running underfoot, selling wares to any wearing silk instead of wool. Merlin sighed with relief; he always found it hard to wave them off, and Arthur mocked him for the rubbish he'd purchased. Wooden clogs which fell apart the first time he used them, dried herbs so old they disintegrated into powder when he took them from the hawker's hand.

Arthur threw his reins to a stableboy, and waited while Merlin took his time dismounting. Arthur had an alert look about him, and Merlin realised that he was waiting for him to fall off. After he'd dismounted Arthur stepped away from the horse quickly, giving its side a short pat.

"Come, then. I wish to be out of this infernal heat."

Merlin trailed him through the hall. The heat soon dissipated to an even coolness. The rock insulated them from the outside temperatures; come summer or winter, it was always the same this far into the lower stretches of the Stone. When he spied a servant in a hallway, Merlin took her aside and gave her some instructions, then sprinted to keep up with Arthur.

They were soon in Arthur's chambers. Merlin plucked his shirt away from his body, cooling himself by quickly flapping it.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Draw me a bath," said Arthur, flinging himself into one of the chairs. He bent to his boots, tugging at one. Merlin went over to help. "Bath, Merlin. I feel like I've swum in a river of ..." Arthur trailed off, and he looked mildly ill for a moment.

The door opened and two servants came in a tub, half-filled with water. Another two boys with buckets came in behind them, and within moments it had been placed on the floor, filled, drying cloths laid beside it. With a couple of bows, they then left at Merlin's nod.

Arthur looked at the tub, at Merlin, and at the tub again.

"I suppose you are not entirely without use, after all. As I said, you do get things right some of the time. Boots, Merlin? My bath awaits."

Merlin grumbled under his breath, then quickly helped the rest of the way. Arthur stood up to remove his garments and Merlin stood back, watching, his mouth growing dry. Arthur's stretch as he removed his shirt, showed his lean muscles, taut and golden. Merlin shifted slightly forward, then stopped himself and pressed his hands on his thighs. He turned aside as Arthur dropped his breeches, giving Merlin a glimpse of his flexing buttocks as he lowered himself into his bath.

His boots were baking his feet, the thick woollen socks damp with sweat. He stamped his feet, then took sat and took them off, sighing with relief and wriggling his toes, free of the confining damp heat. When he looked up Arthur was watching him, eyes dark and hooded. Merlin smiled at him nervously, and stood. He fiddled with the drying cloths and picked up a bar of soap.

"Come here, Merlin," said Arthur, his voice velvety. He'd heard Arthur using that tone on serving women. "I wish to use the soap."

Merlin brought it over to him, uncertain. He'd never noticed Arthur show an interest in men, and wondered at his manner. Arthur cupped the cool water and poured it over his shoulders, then brought some more up to pour over his face. Merlin held the soap out to him, poised for flight in case Arthur thought it funny to pull him into the bathwater.

Arthur grabbed his wrist, making no move to take the soap from him. "Join me." There was a hint of question.

"Sire?"

"Come." He gave an almost imperceptible tug as an accompaniment to his words.

Merlin pulled his hand back, dropping the soap in the tub. He took several steps back, seeing the invitation in Arthur's gaze, and pulled his shirt over his head. When he'd dropped it onto the floor, Arthur was focussed on his chest, his eyes lowering to his breeches when Merlin's hands dropped to his laces. He released the breeches and stepped out of them.

He went nearer, and when Arthur moved slightly to the side, stepped into the tub. Arthur grabbed his hand and pulled him in further, and Merlin fell, sprawling on top of him. Arthur held him there, his breath hot against his neck.

"I would not have you do anything you wouldn't wish," he said quietly, sliding his hand up Merlin's side. Arthur's body was hard against his, and Merlin could feel Arthur's cock stirring against him. The cool bar of soap was under his thigh, and he fumbled for it. Arthur's breath hitched, his hands tightening.

Merlin didn't say anything, his heart hammering, and he slowly moved the soap over his chest, washing himself. His own cock stirred at the suggestiveness of their position, but he kept his hands from his erection, instead smoothing his soap-slicked hands over Arthur's thighs. He pressed the soap into Arthur's hand. The feel of Arthur's body sliding against his as Arthur washed himself made Merlin's blood run hot, and made him achingly hard. He shivered in anticipation at the hardness he felt against his back.

Arthur pushed at him a little, then stood, dragging Merlin up with him. He pressed himself up against Merlin, then quickly pulled Merlin from the tub and over to the soft bed. Arthur stood beside it for a moment, then turned back to him. He moved a hand up to Merlin's cheek, cupping it, and then leaned in. His kiss was hot and hard, the hand against his cheek, a soft caress. Merlin answered it eagerly, pressing in close and putting hand to Arthur's hip to pull him closer. Their cocks brushed against each other, pressed up against their bellies.

Arthur pulled back a little and grinned triumphantly. "On the bed, Merlin."