A Different Destiny / Merthur

Handmade Heaven

"No.  That's a bad idea."

"This isn't up for debate."

"I said no."

"Merlin, get out of my way!"

Merlin caught him as he made for the door: one hand on each shoulder, being especially gentle with his injured side, but just enough to get Arthur's attention.

The Prince slackened. His anger seemed to dissipate and, before he knew what he was doing, he'd slumped into Merlin's embrace, snaking his arms around the brunet's waist and burying his face in his neck. He was exhausted. Completely and utterly drained. Slowly, Arthur drew in a breath. Merlin smelled of ink and fresh herbs and campfire smoke. It was intoxicating.

"Arthur," Merlin mumbled, as if the word in itself was a complete sentence. And then again, "Arthur," as if he was uttering a sacred spell, as if he was bringing the word to life.

The Prince simply held him tighter.

And then: "I need you," Merlin whispered.

"Hmmm?"

"You asked why you're still alive.  It's because I need you."

Arthur paused. Then, slowly, he lifted his head and pulled back. Merlin met his eyes easily and, without being able to stop himself, Arthur reached up and brushed a thumb against his cheek: delicately, as if he was afraid of breaking something.

Merlin leaned into the touch.

Then, searching the brunet's eyes, Arthur did something else entirely; he moved his hand to the back of Merlin's neck, leaned up, and kissed him.  It was hesitant at first.  Arthur's lips seemed to ghost over Merlin's own, just close enough to feel the hotness of his breath.  And then Merlin made this noise — something between a gasp and a soft moan — and Arthur pressed in deeper, tugging the brunet closer against him: one hand still on his neck, the other on his hip.

Merlin could feel his heart racing. 

Arthur continued to kiss him, harder now, as if he wanted to be as close as possible and then more, as if he wanted to be so close he couldn't breathe.  Merlin kissed back with equal desperation.  He allowed himself to be pushed, stumbling, back against the door, his arms wrapped around Arthur's neck for support: as if he'd lose him if he let go.

Then, slowly, Arthur pulled back. He smiled and pressed his forehead against Merlin's, as if sharing a kiss hadn't been enough, as if he wanted to share the very air he breathed. "What," he whispered, "would I do without you?"

Merlin, still half in shock, let out a small, shaky laugh. "Something stupid, probably."

"Yeah."  Arthur dropped his head slightly, nuzzling the crook of Merlin's neck.  "Yeah," he repeated, "something stupid."

"Arthur?"

"Hmmm?"

"What is it?"

The Prince shook his head. 

"Tell me."

"No," he murmured, "I don't wanna ruin this moment.  I want to stay here forever."