From the Other Side

In Transition.

{WARNING: There is some vague adult content again. Lots of kissing depictions and roaming hands.}

Chapter Ten~

      When Arthur awoke, he had his nose pushed into a mass of soft, black hair. 

      He smiled into it, nuzzling his face further in and inhaling the rich, woodsy sent. It was new, unfamiliar, but he liked it. His nostrils flared as he pressed himself deeper, the delicious smell mixing with the scent of skin and hair. It was sweet, heavy, and made his head spin in pleasant circles. 

      Gwen really knew how to make an impression. 

      He reached around her warm body and ran his hands down the smooth skin of her shoulders, then across the slope of her neck. She stirred underneath him, and he chuckled, realizing that he hadn't properly opened his eyes yet. Arthur pulled away from the delightful scent of her hair and gradually cracked his lids. 

      But something was wrong. 

      His blood ran cold, and the hand he had trailing down the queen's spine froze at the base of her back, on pale, snowy skin. He stared, dumbstruck, finding himself wrapped around a long, ivory body instead of Gwen's curvy bronze form. 

      Merlin was tucked against his torso, shaggy black hair tickling Arthur's chin as he shifted in his sleep. His eyelids were shut, creating sooty, thumbnail-shaped prints under his lashes, and rosy lips parted to expel a soft, sleepy breath. Arthur gulped, his eyes tracing down the lines of Merlin's exposed frame. His arms were placed comfortably under his head, creating a pillow, and his broad shoulders rotated towards Arthur trustingly. He could feel long legs entangled with his own, and for a quiet moment, Arthur didn't know what to think. 

      It wasn't until the memories came rushing back that he finally swallowed, realizing Gwen would never be pressed against him in the mornings again. Her sweet brown eyes would never gaze into his when he woke, her smile would never kiss his skin until he rose, and Arthur felt the corners of his eyes sting. 

      But then he looked down at Merlin again, the boy who had given up so much, and Arthur somehow managed to separate the two hurts. He put Guinevere aside, gulping against the crack in his heart, and allowed himself a slow breath. 

      His feelings for Gwen and his feelings for Merlin had always been jumbled, but now wasn't the time to think about that. 

      Arthur stared down somberly at Merlin, reflecting on the night before. He could still remember the desperate need of Merlin's mouth as it crashed onto his, an avalanche of emotion and years of secrets. Not just about his magic, but his feelings – feelings Arthur had recognized from the beginning, had even reciprocated, but never saw the extent of. Merlin's lips sang the song of his devotion as they smacked mercilessly into Arthur's, and the king sat frozen, his own heart aching and divided. 

      But then the kiss had grown deeper and Merlin more forceful, attempting to put so many words into one action. When Arthur tasted the neglected tears running from the warlock's eyes into his mouth, he threw caution to the wind and sprang to life. His hands somehow found their way to Merlin's ribs, wrapping around the man like a protective cage, and Arthur shuddered as their chests collided. For the first time in his life, he let his emotions free. 

      After that, it was all a blur of touching and kissing and moaning. Arthur had never felt so young, or so happy. Not even his first endeavors with Guinevere had made his heart thump this hard. There was something about Merlin. There had always been something about Merlin. 

      The king had fought against his feelings for so long. He knew that Merlin had fallen for him somewhere along in their first year together – Gods, they had been so young – and Arthur hadn't encouraged it... at first. But then Merlin would gaze at him with those sparkling blue orbs that he was supposed to call eyes, regular old eyes, and he would smile and call Arthur a prat or have one of his unique moments of genuine wisdom that would leave the prince breathless, and somewhere, somehow, Arthur knew. There was no fighting something like this.