Sweetness

15

By the time they returned, it must have been the small hours of the morning.

They got up to Arthur's chambers. Merlin stood awkwardly in the door frame as Arthur set one of his bags down.
Merlin had an uneasy look on his face.
"This was a mistake," he whispered. "I shouldn't be here. They dont want me here."

Arthur sighed.
"Don't be an idiot." The prince grabbed his wrist and lead him inside. "I want you here."

"Arthur, I dont want to be thrown in the dungeon because you want a shag."

His cold lunch was sitting on his table, still untouched.

In fact, the room was a mess. There were clothes strewn about, and the bed was unmade.

He must've left in a hurry this morning.

Arthur leaned in and whispered, "there is so much more I want from you than a shag."

Merlin's face flushed at this, and his vague arousal was noted.

He put his hand on Merlin's shoulder and sat him down at the table. "Eat." Arthur commanded more sternly.

Merlin looked at the food in front of him.

"How did you know his Highness's royal scraps are my favorite?"

"Oh shut up. I have no doubt that its far better than anything you've had today."

He was right. All Merlin had eaten was a few slices of old bread and an apple. Even now he wasn't hungry. His stomach churned at the thought of what Uther will do to him when Arthur inevitably marches into the throne room tomorrow morning.

Merlin rubbed his eyes. He was tired but he knew he wouldn't sleep tonight. His head was pounding.

Arthur noticed that he wasn't eating. He understood the situation and was concerned, but was taking it upon himself to fix it. It had been his fault after all. It wasn't fair for Merlin to be sacked because Arthur got distracted.

"If you're not going to eat would you make yourself useful and light the hearth."
Merlin looked over. It took him a minute to realize what he had said, he was so far into his worries.
He got up and squatted over the fireplace with a flint and steel.

When Merlin finally got the wood to light he stood and was immediately met with Arthur's beautiful blue eyes. Merlin took a sharp inhale. The eyes stepped closer. The heat of his breath seemed far hotter than the fire, suddenly roaring, and warming his side.

They stood in very close proximity. The orange flicker danced together across the boys' faces, which made the ice of each eye glow brighter against the fire. With more life.
Arthur raised a gentle hand to Merlin's face, completely enraptured by what he saw and felt.

He brushed a few strands of thick dark hair to the side to see his face better and then skimmed the calloused pad of his thumb against the sharp cheekbone of the man in front of him.

Merlin had never felt attractive. He didn't need to. No love had ever struck him nearly as deeply as this one had.

Previously he had simply considered himself a nonsexual being. Despite perhaps the occasional self-procured satisfactions of his youth. (Which seemed to recently begin occurring again.) Nonetheless he fancied no one until the age of twenty, and thus he did away with the notion that he was fit for no one and subsequently no one was fit for him.

Now was something very different. Now, he was unsure of himself. He was very thin and pale and Arthur certainly was not.

The idea that Arthur was actually interested in him seemed impossible. From any angle.
This lead him to believe that Arthur truly just wanted to claim the nearest warm body, and that he didn't concern himself with the possible repercussions that this may lead to.

Maybe he didn't want a bastard running around and that's why he sought after me and not some handmaid.

Even with his pessimism, Merlin knew that it couldn't possibly be convenience that drew Arthur to him. He did after all, ride from day break until long into the night to do nothing other than bring him home. 

In fact, Merlin seemed like the very least convenient shag considering the wrath of Uther which must surely have been delivered upon the son.

It wasn't until this moment, in the dead of night, with the window open and billowing the silk curtains which leapt from the wall. And the crackling hearth battling the frigid air.
And the fact that none of that mattered when Arther Pendragon whispered so gently, so quietly, as if he hadn't meant to say it at all, it had just run up his throat and snuck past his lips, "look at you," as his thumb now graced Merlin's full lip. "You're beautiful."

And Merlin knew that he was earnest. Arthur would not be caught dead letting himself go like that unless he absolutely truly meant it.
Merlin looked up upon him almost with tears in his eyes and the most dazzling smile.
All doubts of himself and Arthur had vanished.

To love like this and to have the same love returned was something he'd never dreamed of.

He grasped Arthur's wrist, the hand that held him dearly as he kissed the thumb that had caressed him.

Such warmth.

Arthur was radiant.

He had this far away look about him, yet he seemed completely focused.
It was as though he couldn't imagine himself being here, in the way that he was, with this man standing there in front of him; melting into his touch. He wanted to cherish every second.

He didn't know how many more he would have...