'I can't find it!' Merlin called to Arthur while he investigated the DS's bathroom. It was taking effort to subdue his awe. In Kensington, everything had a touch of splendour, elegance and even prestige. The flat seemed to breathe a modest extravagance. The tiles were white and the space large, the shower with levers and buttons Merlin couldn't help but marvel at. It put his own flat to shame ten fold. Not that he cared.
'Have you checked under the sink?'
'Yes,' Merlin replied, but returned to it just in case. Pulling the white doors open by their metal handles he rifled around, shifting towels and plaster packs around. The bottom shelf was darker and Merlin had to lay flat on his stomach to investigate properly and as he pushed towels and the plastic bottles this way and that his hand touched a rougher fabric. Pulling it out, the large cross shone at him with success. Then irritation.
'Did you find it?'
'Maybe,' Merlin shouted as he got back to his feet. Carefully closing the cupboard doors he walked back down the hallway into the living room where Arthur was sprawled across the black leather sofa.
'So, you did?' Arthur mocked loudly, eyes closed and unaware of Merlin's movement. A smile danced along Merlin's lips as he stepped as quietly as he could to the side of the sofa, leaning over the back of it so his face was inches from Arthur's. He was going to surprise him, scare him even, but being so close he forgot the intentions. He just saw the man's dewy skin, peaceful expression and listened to his breathing. Something stabbed in his chest and his stomach twisted horribly, the sensation lasting two seconds and no more. Breath catching for a second Merlin jolted upright in shock. Genuine pain. Why?
'Merlin?'
'I'm here,' Merlin murmured, still collecting himself, trying to forget another strangely emotional moment. Arthur opened his eyes and raised a brow at him.
'Are you just going to stand there?'
'No.'
'Well?'
'Right. You could probably dress the wound yoursel-'
'Merlin. Stop talking for a second and pay attention to what you just said. Injured victim. Wound on head god knows where. Concussion. Factor all these things together,' Arthur said, words thick with superiority.
'Huh,' Merlin said, walking languidly over to the front of the sofa, avoiding the black glass coffee table which sat between it and the large TV screen.
'What?'
'I just didn't think you'd want me to take care of you so badly,' Merlin commented, turning over the first aid kit in his hands.
'Why wouldn't my partner in crime not help me? It's your duty,' Arthur remarked with mock seriousness, his gaze fixed unerringly on Merlin throughout the entire conversation.
'Is that supposed to be ironic?' Merlin questioned, nudging Arthur's leg with his own.
'Maybe,' Arthur imitated with a charismatic grin, wincing slightly as he pushed himself up and scooted over to one side of the sofa. Sinking down Merlin pulled his legs up and sat cross-legged, facing Arthur, as he unzipped the bag.
'How can you afford such a . . . high class place?' Merlin asked, filling the silence as he concentrated on getting out antiseptic wipes and a bottle of clear plaster gel.
'Awards. I won a few in Uni and from Scotland Yard.'
'Awards that pay?'
'Yup. Mostly sports, but with the Met I earned one for chivalry, or something like that. They didn't give me money but the person I saved did. Exceptionally generous family,' Arthur recalled with fondness, eyes unfocused as he delved into memories. Merlin had found what he'd been looking for and put the kit to one side.
'Lean forward?' he asked softly, shifting onto his knees to better handle the wound. Arthur did without complaint and Merlin felt a twinge at the sight. It wasn't fatal and the bone wasn't damaged, but it was bloody and looked painful. Tentatively he tore an antiseptic wipe packet and pulled out the damp fabric. Then he pressed it gently against the wound, hearing Arthur hiss. 'Sorry.'
'I'm not a baby, Merlin. Get on with it.'
So he did. The process was probably slower than it needed to be, due to Merlin's hesitation and oversensitivity to every movement, every sound, Arthur made. When it came to navigating the gel onto the wound his hand was shaking too much to achieve anything, but the warmth coursed through his fingers and a perfect line of the transparent substance began to harden, sealing the injury closed. Breathing a sigh of relief, Merlin lowered himself down, legs folded under him, and Arthur just two inches away.
At eye level he was staring at Arthur. He could feel the man's breath brush his own face.
'Better?' Merlin said quietly, barely blinking as he took in the brilliant blue of the DS's eyes.
Arthur didn't respond but when he did, it was just as soft, just as intimate. 'Much.'
Confusion wrapped around Merlin and he could see it in Arthur as well. He felt like he'd known the man for so long; if he were to touch the blonde's cheek it would be natural, it would be right.
'Coffee or tea?' Merlin blurted, a sharp blow of air hitting his face when Arthur scoffed.
'You don't have to nurse me that much,' he said.
'Well, you probably shouldn't go to sleep, so you'll be having coffee. If you made it the purpose would be defeated. Got to keep blood pressure down, now don't we?' Merlin rambled and clambered back to his feet, circling around until he saw the kitchen.
'Really, Merlin. You've sealed the cut so blood pressure doesn't matter. I can make it,' Arthur insisted as he started to get up. Merlin's hand on his shoulder held him down.
'You've helped me and now it's my turn,' he said, heading to the similarly white and modern kitchen. 'You know, I didn't expect you to take me seriously.'
'With what?' Arthur called, Merlin out of view as he opened cupboards and tins, searching for coffee.
'Getting yourself into trouble,' he replied. Slightly embarrassed Merlin noticed the coffee machine sat in the corner. He'd been floundering around for at least two minutes, blind to the most obvious.
'Oh,' was all Arthur said before continuing on to say, 'Sorry the place is such a mess by the way. I need to get myself a servant or something.'
The machine began to hum and a hot stream of coffee filled the mug Merlin held under it. He'd hardly noticed the clutter, but it was definitely there. Dishes sitting unwashed in the kitchen, and on the glass table there had been a chaotic pile of magazines, books, and even some PS3 games.
'Can you afford one?' Merlin asked, now pulling open the fridge.
'Not really,' he heard Arthur say. The cool breeze gave him goose bumps but Merlin stood there, staring into the fridge. Two of the shelves housed beers and ciders alone. Only the bottom two and the door held anything more substantial, even then only questionably. Milk, juice, eggs, some dubiously old lettuce. Smiling to himself he finished the coffee and returned to Arthur's side. Seeing his approach one corner of Arthur's lips crooked up and he asked, 'I don't suppose you're looking for an extra job?'
Merlin's footing faltered and his hand became weak, mind blanking as something hit into it hard.
'Sh-' Arthur shouted, and reality swarmed back into Merlin's thoughts. He could only see the effects of . . . whatever had happened. The coffee mug was on the beige carpet, its contents spreading dark and steaming into the fibres. The rest was soaking into Arthur's white button-up shirt and trousers, a small puddle sitting on the black leather seat. The blonde quickly got his feet, wiping uselessly at the now damp and dark shirt. Irritation carved a frown into his face and Merlin could barely breathe. Then he heard laughter. Not cruel. Not mocking. It was heartfelt amusement.
'You're unbelievable, Merlin,' Arthur said between chuckles, holding hands out in defeat before looking up from the stain to Merlin. 'You'll pay for that.'
Arthur's arm was wrapped around his neck, his free hand rubbing the coffee that clung to it into Merlin's hair. The fear, the odd sensations all left him and Merlin was caught in the present as he was caught by Arthur. Fighting against him with no real effort Merlin was soon laughing with the DS and in a moment of wickedness he swept his foot under Arthur and they both fell onto the carpet, sticky with the coffee and chests heaving as they sniggered.
'Unbelievable,' he heard Arthur rasp between the chuckles. Their bodies were touching at the side, his left with Arthur's right, arms and hands tangled. Merlin turned his head to the side, watching Arthur's grinning profile.
'What is?'
'You, like I said earlier,' he explained, the laughter dying but the smile remaining. Arthur's head fell to the side now as well to look Merlin in the eyes. 'Brave to a fault I suppose. Running into that underground station, handling Cenred and then me. Jumping over those buildings, I mean. You're not exactly the fittest looking yet you still did it. Still saved me. Although a huge ego could explain it all. Yeah, you're not brave just egocentric.'
'Please,' Merlin scoffed, looking back up to the ceiling in hope that Arthur wouldn't noticed the blush he could feel burning on his face. 'You think I'm brave, and you'd be right to.'
'I'm concussed, remember?'
'Some say it can give you a kind of clarity,' Merlin remarked, not entirely sure if it was true or not, but he didn't care.
Arthur chuckled. 'Clarity?'
'Yeah,' Merlin said, looking back at Arthur now that his cheeks had cooled down. 'Makes you understand things in a new light. A brighter light. Notice things you'd been too distracted to notice before your brain got a shock to it.'
His squint of amused disbelief softened when he murmured, 'Maybe it has.'
Arthur shifted a little and Merlin felt his hand fall momentarily onto his own. It was a wonderfully long moment. The heat of his rough skin against his own, both their hands relaxed and unmoving yet the slightly curled in fingers had managed to fit together in such a way it left them locked together.
Arthur moved again and Merlin's stomach tightened in the fear he would get up and leave, but instead he'd wiggled himself closer, hand now unashamedly intertwining with Merlin's. He could barely breathe for the second time that night, but rather than out of panic it was out of joy.
'You're holding my hand,' Merlin said quietly, looking up again and focusing his energy on the sensation of their connection.
'In my delirious state I'm grounding my mind with physical contact. It's biological,' Arthur reasoned with a put on voice.
'I'm sure it is,' Marlin said with a devious smile.
'I feel like we've met before,' Arthur said more seriously, and his left hand was on Merlin's cheek, gently turning his head to the side. 'How is that possible?'
Merlin struggled to take in a full breath, the warmth of Arthur's hand and the blue eyes making his heart beat dangerously fast. 'You're insane?'
'I'm being serious, Merlin,' Arthur murmured. He wasn't offended, the loving look told Merlin that much.
'I know,' he whispered.
Arthur cleared his throat and sat up, his hand sliding out of Merlin's grip and from his cheek to leave cold emptiness behind. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down at his messy state.
'I need a shower and a change of clothes,' Arthur noted.
'I should go then,' Merlin assumed.
'What? So I can fall asleep and die?' Arthur questioned him with a raised brow.
'I didn't know you were such a drama queen,' he said, trying his best to restore an atmosphere he could breathe in. One not so suffocatingly beautiful. One that didn't leave his mind reeling in confusion and happiness and pain.
'As your superior, I'm ordering you to remain to ensure my continued survival,' Arthur instructed jokingly.
'Yes, of course, Sire,' Merlin replied by instinct.
'And you need to clean up the mess you made,' Arthur added.
He pushed himself up onto his elbows. 'Shall I help you out of your soiled attire then, Sire?'
Arthur's eyes wrinkled in the corners with his smile. 'You're ridiculous.'
Merlin stared up at him from the ground. 'Is that a no?'
His eyes widened in mild shock when Arthur unbuttoned his shirt in a few seconds. Bundling it up in his hands Merlin saw a glimpse of skin before Arthur chucked it into his face.
'Thanks,' Merlin said, voice muffled by the shirt. The heat he felt in his face was hidden at least.
'Idiot,' Arthur muttered, and Merlin got the shirt off his face in time to see him walk away. To see his bare back, muscles shifting under the golden skin. Again, the warmth twinged in his chest and he couldn't help but notice how normal it felt. Normal yet so unbelievably abnormal and wonderful.
A metallic ring filled the air and Merlin forced himself to get to his feet, still holding Arthur's warm shirt. The sound of running water and the click of a lock let him know Arthur wouldn't be answering. After finding the phone he answered with a, 'Hello?'
'Merlin?' the rich Irish accent inquired.
'Gwain?'
'You're at Arthur's?'
'He's concussed and Mordred's with the bartender at the hospital,' Merlin offered up as an explanation.
'Man, I've missed out,' Gwain muttered.
'Why'd you call?'
'We got the tapes that covered the second entrance into the underground station. The one you found.'
'Oh.'
'I'm not planning on watching them myself, I'm too tired to be of any good. I just wanted to check Arthur knew about them. You guys can watch them tomorrow.'
'Us? Why? Aren't you-'
'Percy's got this . . . thing. We won't be there, but Friday we'll be back, so don't worry yourself.'
'I wasn't-'
'So, uh, you and Arthur, eh?'
'What?'
'I could've sworn he and Gwen had a thing going-'
'Wait, no, you've got it all wrong. I'm his servant,' Merlin rushed and then winced. Servant? Why did he have to say that.
'Woah, Merlin. Keep your kinks to yourself,' Gwain said with entertained concern.
'Jesus, no, not that. Gwain,' he said firmly. 'What I mean is he's treating me like his bloody servant and pulling rank and everything. I'm cleaning his floor and shirt and making sure he doesn't die.'
'I'm not one to judge. I'll leave the tapes on your desk,' Gwain said between chuckles. 'You kids have fun.'
The long beep indicated Gwain had hung up. Merlin put the phone back into its base, blowing out a long breath and then grinning. Shaking his head at the incredulity of the situation he wandered into the kitchen and threw the shirt at the base of the high-tech washing machine. It had far too many buttons than necessary and he didn't bother dealing with it. Instead he hunted down a cloth and some spray and returned to the coffee spillage in the living room.
Not long after he'd began scrubbing the sound of water stopped and Arthur emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. Skin still wet and hair dripping down in front of his face, he came to inspect.
'Not bad,' he commented. 'Shower's all yours.'
Merlin paused. 'Wha-'
'You want to sleep with coffee in your hair?'
'Sleep?' he repeated.
'You're staying the night,' Arthur said as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
'Arthur-'
'Nope,' Arthur cut him off. 'I'll hear none of it. Leon's been saying that partners need to spend more time together.'
'He has?' Merlin asked with furrowed brows.
'So, we will,' Arthur finished and ruffled Merlin's hair, holding his hand up as evidence. 'Shower.'
'You're not the boss of me,' Merlin challenged, rising to his feet.
Even half-naked Arthur exuded an impenetrable power. 'Merlin.'
'Alright, alright,' he muttered, skirting past the other man before trudging towards the bathroom.
'I'll finish this off, shall I?' Arthur called but Merlin had already stepped onto the tiles and closed the door. Trying to ignore the fluttering in his stomach he looked outside into London's night-time while he undressed. As each article of clothing fell onto the shining tiles he felt both more at home and more petrified at the situation. Seeing Arthur half naked was one thing. It being his turn felt different. Different exhilarated him as much as it scared him.
Stepping into the shower he pushed down the right lever, keeping out of the water's stream and testing it. Hot. So under he went and the water hit his head, shoulders, trickled and ran down around his body. Eyes closed he stood there, feeling it batter him so softly and reassuringly. For the first time he could remember, he smiled at his thoughts. The laughter, the enthralling eyes and feelings of confusion which ultimately left him content. Arthur.
The knocking at the door brought him out of his revere.
'Uh, I've got some spare pyjamas for you to change into. I'll leave them on the floor just here for when you're done,' Arthur told him through the door. There it was again. He could feel his stupid grin. Was it stupid? He felt like a teenager all over again even with all the blood and hell that clung to him. A few more seconds under the water, borrowing some of Arthur's shampoo, massaging it in, and then washing it out. Stepping out onto the small white rug he grabbed a towel. Quickly scrubbing it over every inch of himself to dry off and avoid the cold, Merlin held it around his waist and unlocked the door. On the ground he saw a neat square pile which he lifted up carefully and balanced on one hand to take back in and dress.
'Merlin,' Arthur said with a crooked smile, bent over the sofa and arranging several blankets.
'Hm?' Merlin hummed as he padded back into the living room, his clothes bundled under his arm. He was still adjusting to the loose fitting pyjamas Arthur had provided. A large grey t-shirt and dark blue plaid pyjama trousers. He wasn't skin and bone, he did a lot of exercise and was by no means lanky but the clothes made him feel minuscule in comparison to Arthur's even more evident bulk.
'Your hair's kind of . . .' Arthur trailed off, amused and transfixed by the sight.
Merlin looked up properly and remembered. He'd quite viciously towel-dried his hair, and hadn't bothered with brushing or hand-combing. 'Sticking out all over the place?'
'It's a good look for you. You should call it poetic expression,' Arthur suggested, throwing a pillow at the one end of the sofa. 'Make-shift bed. I hope you appreciate all the trouble I went to.'
'Oh no, of course I do. Putting some blankets and a pillow onto a sofa must be such a chore for your majesty,' Merlin mocked, walking around and falling down onto the soft seat.
Arthur had folded his arms and straightened his back, eyes bearing down on him. 'Just go to sleep.'
'What if I'm not tired?'
'Then just lay there and count sheep,' Arthur muttered as he headed over to the light switch. The prospect of darkness set Merlin on edge. Every step Arthur took made his heart thud harder. Once he could feel it beating in his chest like someone banging one of those large and hauntingly loud ceremonial drums he jumped to his feet. He caught Arthur by the arm and shifted himself between the blonde and the switch on the wall. 'What're you doing?'
'Let's talk,' Merlin suggested, slightly breathless. It was panic. Was he experiencing anxiety? Over what?
'About?'
Arthur's narrowed eyes seemed dead set on going to sleep, so Merlin quickly rambled on in reply, 'Anything. Everything. You can't go to sleep.'
'Are you sure about that, Merlin? Do you even have medical training?' Arthur prodded, Merlin's hand still grasped firmly around Arthur's forearm.
'I fixed your wound didn't I?'
'Beginner's luck,' he dismissed it.
'Tell me about Westminster?' Merlin pleaded.
'Westminster?'
'Yeah. Your university days. If you like we can swap stories?' he suggested.
'Shut up, Merlin. It's time for bed,' he said firmly and moved forwards, Merlin going with him. Backed up against the wall, he felt Arthur's hand brush past his ear and click the switch. Shadows swarmed into every nook and cranny without hesitation. Merlin felt the air buzz with Arthur's presence.
'I really don't think it's safe for you to sleep,' he muttered, his last ditch effort to keep Arthur there. To stop the anxiety from driving him mad.
'I have you here, don't I?'
'I can't tell if you're dead if we're in different rooms,' Merlin argued, the next second the heat flaring in his cheeks.
'Merlin.'
'Yes?'
'You're not sleeping in my bed,' Arthur said.
'Of course not.'
'How about a compromise? Tomorrow morning you can wake me up. If I'm dead at least I won't rot,' he said with a smile in his words.
'That's horrible,' Merlin said quietly.
'True though. Good night, Merlin.'
'Good night, Arthur.'
He could still feel him, hand still by his ear. His heart nearly gave out when he felt the other man rest his forehead against his own, noses touching and breaths mingling together. The darkness didn't scare him now. It didn't mean Arthur would be lost. It meant Arthur would be closer.
'Arthur,' he whispered.
'Merlin.'
'Bed?'
'I forgot. Sorry,' Arthur murmured and Merlin could have sworn their lips almost touched. A slight breeze and Arthur was walking back to his own bedroom. Merlin's eyes had adjusted enough to make out the murky silhouettes of the furniture, of Arthur's figure leaving without another word.
Slowly padding to the sofa he wiggled himself under the blanket, the feather pillow encompassing his head. The ghost of Arthur's warm breaths and touch fled with Merlin's mind as dreams dragged him down and under.