Things That Merlin Isn't Allowed To Do (According to Prince Arthur)
4: Deliver Dresses For Morgana or Gwen
It's not his fault. Honestly!
But the prat doesn't believe him. He's not likely to. Or even if he does believe him, he chooses to act like he doesn't, just to have a laugh.
"It's for Morgana!" Merlin says for the umpteenth time. "I'm delivering it from Gwen to her, she's just finished tailoring it - I swear!"
"I've always known you're a girl, Merlin. It's not the first time this happens, I mean, and no, I don't believe it's for Gaius this time. No need to feel ashamed. Go on," Arthur says with a quirky grin and gestures at the dressing screen.
Advice: never deliver any piece of female clothing through a castle that has a prat prince, even for your best female friend.
On second thought, lets correct that. Never deliever any piece of clothing anywhere (if you aren't female), for any good friend. It'll just get you into strange, awkward situations and won't let you go.
"Arthur," Merlin whines, "this is ridiculous."
The prince simply chuckles, puts a hand on the servant's back and pushes him behind the thin mobile wall and Merlin resigns to the inevitable fate with a sigh.
In the end, it appears it isn't ridiculous that much because when Merlin (twelve minutes and at least a hundred lacings later) steps back into the candlelight, Arthur just stares at him with wide eyes and jaw dropped and Merlin admits that the cold silky material brushing against his skin isn't that bad, not is being looked at like that…bad. It's rather ... uhm ... It's rather nice.
"I—I should probably. You know."
His face and his skin feels like it's on fire and some other parts of his body does too and can he go now before he melts into a puddle of goo because Arthur is looking at him like that?
Merlin makes a feeble pathetic gesture toward the dressing screen.
Arthur continues to stare and his voice is slightly high-pitched as he regains control of it.
"It's not…it's not unflattering, Merlin. It isn't."
The warlock makes a nervous little laugh. "For once I get complimented but only when wearing Morgana's dress."
"It's really Morgana's dress?" Arthur asks, looking him up and down and biting his lip and Merlin's pulse speeds up a little; Arthur can't really be looking at him that way, can he? Oh god, he is, he is, and oh god, Gwen and Morgana are going to kill him if he ruins the dress.
The prince slowly stands up from where he's been sitting on his finely carved wooden chair, takes three steps forward and lets a hand glide over the hem of the dress. The material is smooth, as is Merlin's skin, though the latter is warm and glowing in the candlelight and he suddenly has a strong urge to slowly reveal that smooth skin, look at it, maybe taste it.
"I better talk to her, then. About having to order another one...for her."
What? Merlin wonders, startled, and then, Oh, as Arthur leans in, wraps his arms around the warlock and proceed to kiss him until either of them passes out.
()()()
How strange, Gwen thinks that evening as she sorts through her mistress' wardrobe. I can't seem to find that red and golden dress anywhere...but I'm sure I asked Merlin to deliver it...