Summary: Merthur, the knights, Morgana and Gwen get together in Arthur's chambers to drink and play Don't Say It!, a game where you're given a secret forbidden word, and after the set amount of time has passed, must drink as many times as you said it. Merlin and Arthur act like a couple without even realizing, Gwaine and Percival are a trouble-making couple, Elyan is tired of everyone's bullshit, Gwen and Lancelot are a soft couple, Morgana is a badass, Mordred is not a child, and Leon is the older brother. Set some place in canon where all of them are alive and well.
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The moon was glowing high in the sky, full and pale and beautiful. Firelight spread over the whole room, warmth making its way into everyone inside. The knights, Morgana and Arthur were currently holed up in his chambers, talking and wrestling, and flopping about in their plain clothes. Morgana had charmed some lights to hang in the air, to their delight. She used magic to keep the fire going, and gave everyone a cushion to sit on. Among themselves, they called these nights “Perfect Crimes” because they only had the moon as witness to a night of what Uther would execute them all for. Servants and nobility mingling, outright treasonous declarations, and magic. They wouldn’t change them for the world.
The calm was broken by an impatient pounding on the door to Arthur’s chambers, as if someone was knocking with their foot. (Merlin was, in fact, knocking with his foot.)
“Who is it?” Arthur shouted, finger to his lips to make sure his knights didn’t make any noise. Elyan slapped a hand over Gwaine’s mouth and gave him a thumbs up. Gwaine licked Elyan’s hand, and Elyan retaliated by rubbing said hand over Gwaine’s hair.
“It’s us!” Gwen’s voice shouted, and the door opened with a small bang.
“And we come,” Merlin smiled, “Bearing gifts!”
Everyone but Gwaine and Morgana’s eyes widened at the bottles and jugs of alcohol, and Percival let out a groan. Arthur raised his eyebrows.
“Just how much of my money did you take, Merlin?”
“Don’t worry, you prat, I left you a castle.”
“Does my castle still have my gold?”
“I don’t know what gold you’re speaking of, my lord.”
Merlin gave him an impish grin and flopped down between Arthur and Leon, where Arthur had moved closer to Morgana to make room for him. Gwen settled herself on Lancelot’s lap, ignoring how Elyan raised his eyebrows. Merlin flicked his wrist, and drinks flew out of the boxes. Mead for Elyan, Percival and Leon, wine for Arthur, Lancelot and Morgana, ale for Gwen, Gwaine and himself.
“Emrys, what about me?” Mordred asked, raising his hand. Merlin smirked and handed him a goblet of juice. Mordred rolled his eyes, taking a sip before muttering a spell to change it into cider.
“I’m not a child, you know?”
Everyone let out a huff of laughter, and Mordred glared at Merlin. Merlin leaned over to ruffle his hair, taking care to arrange it like a father would to a child. Mordred just rolled his eyes again.
They laughed, making themselves comfortable on their cushions - and in Gwen’s case, Lancelot, and raised their glasses to Camelot (Arthur), Alcohol (Gwaine), Clotpoles (Merlin), and To us!(Gwen). It was a good thing Merlin and Morgana had placed a silencing spell around Arthur’s room, because soon enough they were roaring with laughter and singing (read : shouting).
.
Time had passed quickly, the moon rising and rising and glowing brightly, stories being told with the aid of Merlin’s fire images and Mordred’s water shapes, the ceiling above lit with bright stars. Mordred magicked up soft boards for all of them to lean back against, the two couples in the group (Gwen and Lancelot, Gwaine and Percival) more on each other than off, and Merlin with his head a hair’s width from Arthur’s.
“Come on, come on! Let’s play a game - let’s!”
Gwen was slightly red in the face, one hand on Lancelot’s shoulder and the other holding her goblet. A cheer went up, and everyone shouted suggestions - Strip Cards (Gwaine), Truth or Drink (Morgana), Arm Wrestling (Percival), Dice (Merlin, who was quickly shot down by Arthur because he cheats). Gwen shushed them all with a wave of her hand.
“Let’s play Don’t Say It!”
“Don’t say what?”
Mordred tilted his head, confused, and Leon leaned over to explain.
“Basically, everyone has one no-no word," he paused as Mordred glared at him for using a term mostly reserved for younger children. Leon laughed, continuing, "Or phrase chosen for them by the rest of the group, but they don’t know what it is. Everyone tries to get everyone else to say the word or phrase, and we play for about half a candlemark or so. At the end of it, we have to drink as many times as we said it. For example, if my word was apple, and I said it 3 times, I need to drink 3 times.”
Mordred nodded. “Sounds fun!”
“More like a way to get absolutely smashed,” Gwaine said enthusiastically, bumping his shoulder into Percival’s.
“You and alcohol, little man,” he smiled, “I worry for your liver.”
“We all do!”
“Ah, why is it always me?” Gwaine leaned back, resting his head on Percival’s shoulder.
“Who knows?” Percival said, slinging his free arm around Gwaine’s waist, and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Gwaine grinned in reply.
Merlin clapped his hands together. “Shall we start? I’ll just use a bit of magic to - Morgana, if you would?”
Merlin and Morgana muttered under their breath and a slight weight settled on all of them. It was a spell to track how many times someone said their forbidden word, the two of them taking half of the group each.
“I’ll go first!” Gwen said cheerfully, taking her drink and carefully stepping into the antechamber.
Immediately, they huddled together, Arthur placing an arm around Merlin’s waist to tug him closer. Morgana had a glint in her eye.
“Perhaps her word could be 'Lancelot'?”
They all turned to look at Lancelot, whose eyes widened. He blushed before tilting his head to the side, considering it.
“I think it’s a bit obvious isn’t it? Besides, she always calls me pet names.”
A murmur went through the group again, and this time it was Merlin who had a suggestion.
“How about ‘I mean’? She’s so careful and sweet with her words, I bet we could fluster her into correcting herself.”
“Sometimes, Merlin, you say something useful,” Arthur said, nudging his shoulder against Merlin’s, and at Merlin’s pleased expression, “Don’t get cocky. Most times, I’m amazed that you’re alive.”
Merlin rolled his eyes, muttering, “Dollophead,” then raising his voice a little, “Are we in agreement, then?”
Everyone nodded.
“You can come in, Gwen!”
Gwen sauntered back in, and settled next to Lancelot.
“Alright, who’s next?”
Everyone pointed at different people, before Arthur in his loudest and fakest voice, the one he used to drive Merlin mad, said, “Merlin! Why don’t you go?”
Merlin sighed at Arthur, deliberately pushing down hard on Arthur’s shoulder as he stood up.
“Sure, but you’re next, my prattiness.”
“You can’t address me like that.”
“And yet I do.”
“Stocks, Merlin.”
“Oooh, is that the best you can do, your royal dollop-headed-ness?”
“That,” Arthur said, opening the door for Merlin, “Is not a real word.”
“Sure it is.”
“Hush, Merlin, and no eavesdropping.”
“I’m more honorable than - “
Arthur closed the door in Merlin’s face with a wide grin. Making his way to the group huddled together, he said, “Any made up word would work.”
“But he has too many of those,” Gwaine chuckled, remembering the particularly colorful things Merlin thought up. The group was silent for a moment, trying to think of an insult he used often. There weren't many - Merlin was quite creative.
Elyan gestured at Arthur, smirking, and said, “I think Merlin’s word could be 'prat'.”
Arthur snorted. “Oh, he’ll be completely sloshed. Are we in agreement?”
They all nodded.
“Come in, Merlin!”
Merlin trotted back, and pushed Arthur toward the antechamber.
"I made it nice and cold for you in there, sire!"
Arthur sighed, hiding his smirk.
"Just how childish are you, Merlin?"
"Not as childish as you, Arthur."
Raising his eyebrows at Merlin, he tugged off Merlin's jacket, the one Arthur had given him (and also the one that had made Arthur speechless when he saw him, the too-wide cloth falling off his lean, muscled frame. But that's nobody's business), and pulled it over himself. It was warm and smelt good - it smelt of herbs and Merlin. Not that Arthur knew what Merlin smelt like.
Merlin rolled his eyes and settled down on his cushion as Arthur waved at him before going into his antechamber. The group gathered, making sure to say quiet until the door to the antechamber closed.
"Merlin," everyone said at the same time.
Raising his eyebrows, Merlin said, "Me?"
"Yes."
"Me what?"
"Arthur's word, Merlin," Morgana said, taking another sip of her drink.
"Seriously, Emrys, he'll end up drinking the whole box."
"I really don't see how you can be sure of that, Mordred."
"We're all sure," Gwaine said, switching his and Percival’s drinks to take a big gulp. Percival gave a little sigh. Gwaine smirked at him as Percival made a face. Noticing, Mordred changed it to mead, and Percival gave a quiet thanks. Merlin didn't even notice, looking around in askance.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes!"
"Fuck no."
"Let's put it to a vote, then," Leon cut in, and everyone except Merlin raised their hands for yes.
"Can I veto?"
"Nope," Lancelot said, cheerfully calling Arthur back.
"I really don't agree," Merlin crossed his arms.
"What a surprise," Arthur muttered, draping Merlin's jacket over his shoulders again. "Merlin, it wasn't even that cold."
Merlin smirked. "I didn't actually do anything to the room."
Rolling his eyes, Arthur slung an arm over Merlin’s shoulders. "Lazy, lazy."
The group continued to choose words and phrases for the rest of them. "Have you no ~?" for Morgana, "Haha, very funny," for Elyan, "I don't approve," for Leon, "I'll do it for you," for Lancelot, "Little man," for Percival, "Emrys," for Mordred, and after much discussion, "Why do you always pick on me?" for Gwaine.
They settled on their cushions, trying their hardest to subtly get the others to say their words. Merlin kept prodding at Arthur, who in return kept holding him in a headlock. Elyan and Gwen banded together to outrage Morgana, who tried her best to fluster Gwen. Gwaine and Percival annoyed Elyan and Leon with ridiculous jokes, while Mordred kept picking light heartedly on Gwaine.
.
"Leon, old friend, what do you think about dressing Elyan here as a bridesmaid for our wedding?" Gwaine said, winking at Elyan.
"I don't approve, Gwaine."
Percival looked up from where he'd been looking at the ground with his chin on Gwaine's shoulder. "Oh, come on, he'll look smashing - those long legs and all!"
"Haha, very funny, Percy. I'd sooner show up stark naked."
"Have you no mercy, Elyan? I would rather not have to deal with the angered lords and ladies." Morgana said, taking a bite of some cheese.
Mordred laughed, interjecting, "If anything is going to anger them, I rather think it'll be Gwaine’s socks."
"And why do you always pick on me?"
"Emrys, save me, Gwaine’s- "
"I didn't do anything!"
"You stuffed your fucking foot in my face, Gwaine!"
"You deserved it. Also, watch your language, kid."
"No one could ever commit enough crimes to deserve that,” Elyan said, waving a hand at Gwaine’s feet, before Mordred could shout an incredulous retort.
"Once again, why do you always pick on me?"
Percival nudged Gwaine’s neck with his nose, and said, "I've no idea, little man. I love you, socks and all."
"How drunk are you, Percival?"
"Very, by the looks of him,” Merlin drawled.
Gwaine pressed a quick kiss to Percival’s lips. "Save it for later, eh, Perce?"
"Gwaine! There are children here. Have you no shame?" Morgana smirked, making as if to cover Mordred’s eyes.
"I am not a child!"
"Whatever you say, Mordred."
"You are a child, Mordred,” Gwen said, then stuttered, “I mean, you're quite young. Not that that's a bad thing. Obviously, that’s not a bad thing!"
Mordred smiled back at Gwen.
.
"Merlin, Merlin, look at me,” Arthur said, close to Merlin’s ear.
"Why - "
"Emrys!" Mordred shouted, half in warning and half in laughter.
"Oh, you prat! Why would you put cream on me?"
"I am Crown Prince. I don't need to answer to the likes of you."
"I fear for Camelot, having such a prat as future king."
Morgana snorted, raising her goblet. "I agree!"
"Morgana!" Arthur pouted.
"There there, Arthur. I'm sure some poor fool will help you,” Morgana said, patting Arthur’s shoulder as if a wounded baby animal.
"I am a warrior - "
Merlin grinned, sarcasm dripping from his lips, "Anything you say, sire."
"Shut up, Merlin."
"I was agreeing with you, you prat!"
"No, you weren't."
"Yeah, Emrys, you were - you were making fun of him.” Mordred was slurring slightly, already a bit drunk.
"Can you stop bickering, I mean, uh.” Gwen paused for a moment before holding out her bag. “Would someone help me with this?"
"Sure, Gwen, I'll do it for you,” Lancelot said, taking it from her.
.
Needless to say, by the end of it all of them needed to drink much more than 3 times.
.
To cries of again, again, they played another round.
This time, they all ground their teeth, trying to choose something that would destroy the others. Merlin got “dollop-head”, though Arthur still insisted it wasn’t a real word (he quickly shut up when the whole group chanted dollophead in two words is Prince Arthur). Arthur got “Don’t be an idiot.” with Merlin being told to do something idiotic (he protested very loudly. Or, as loudly as he could without being heard by Arthur, which wasn’t very loud because Arthur seemed to have super hearing when it came to Merlin.). Morgana got “Just listen.” and Leon “You can’t be serious.” and the group thought that with those two sitting next to each other, they’d both get very very drunk (They didn't, because Leon is responsible and Morgana is invincible). Gwen got “Obviously.” and Lancelot “I’m sure.” because the rest of the group were sure they would make each other say their words without even meaning to. Gwaine got “You nobles/royals.” (he seemed to forget that technically he was a noble, not only by blood but also because of his job). Percival got “Fool(s).” (he seemed to be saying that more and more often). Mordred got “I am not a child!” to the giggles of the group and Elyan got “I said.” (The knights had a habit of annoying each other).
.
“You can’t be serious,” Leon said, “You cannot be serious.”
“No, just listen - I think it could work!” Morgana gestured with her hand, holding a piece of bread.
“You can’t be serious,” Leon insisted, not realizing he was dooming himself.
“I am very serious. Just listen! Gwaine, back me up.”
“Oh, you royals. So demanding.”
“Oh, I’ll show you demanding - “
“How about,” Merlin said, leaning around Arthur to get some cheese, “You two have a food fight to settle it?”
Arthur snorted, holding a piece of bread to Merlin’s mouth, and said, “Don’t be an idiot, Merlin.”
Merlin bit into the bread, and tugged it free of Arthur’s hand. “Dollop-head.”
“Not a real word.”
“Is too.”
“Really, Merlin. Describe it then.”
“In two words? Prince Arthur.” The knights chanted, smirking.
Arthur groaned. “Seriously, I don’t know why I tell any of you anything.”
“Obviously because you love us,” Gwen said, patting Arthur’s arm.
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
Morgana smiled, curling her fingers to change Arthur’s goblet with Mordred’s with magic. “I’d say the mere fact that we get away with everything was a big hint.”
“Morgana,” Arthur said, glaring, “You cannot give a child wine.”
“I am not a child!” Mordred protested, “Just because you’re all old and wrinkly doesn’t make me a child.”
“Oi,” Gwaine ruffled Mordred’s hair, “Just who are you calling old and wrinkly?”
“Have you got ale in your ears?” Merlin asked, giving Gwaine a wide smile, “Apparently you’re all old.”
“Why are you excluding yourself, Merlin?” Arthur said, gripping Merlin’s shoulders tighter and leaning closer.
“Because I’m younger than you, dollophead.”
“By barely a year.”
“Well -”
“You cannot be serious. You’re all young,” Leon said, taking a big gulp of his drink. “I’m older than all of you.”
“Yes, I’m sure all of us know you’re old and wrinkly,” Lancelot said, raising his goblet to Leon with a wink.
Leon spat out his drink. “Oi! You’re children, the lot of you.”
They burst out laughing.
.
“I said, that doesn’t make sense.” Elyan grumbled.
“When does history ever make sense, eh?” Gwaine said, taking a bite of a red apple.
“It usually does,” Arthur said, affecting a patronizing accent to recite a passage from "The Book of Basic History : Detailing the Passage of Time Through Royalty and Nobility, and the Legacy We Must Protect" (It was a horrible book). “History is the passage of time and it must be seen through royalty and nobility to see the legacy we must protect. Noble decisions by - “
Gwaine snorted. “You nobles and your obsession with history.”
“Wait, did you not learn the Book of Basic History?” Leon asked, jealousy seeping into his tone. (Again, it was a horrible book.)
“The Book of what?”
“You can’t be serious. The Book of Basic History : Detailing the Passage of Time Through Royalty and Nobility, and the Legacy We Must Protect by Sir Something that starts with a W?” Leon said.
“Sir Witless.” Morgana quipped.
Arthur smiled. “Sir Withered and Bald.”
“Sir We wish he never picked up a quill.”
“Sir We wish he was never born.”
“Sir We’re sad he’s dead because we would have loved to do the honors.”
Merlin raised his eyebrows. “That bad?”
“The worst.” Leon said, letting out a long sigh.
“He kept droning on about how history depended on male nobility, and the importance of bloodlines. He thought being noble was an excuse to get away with anything!” Arthur said, disgusted. He took an angry gulp of wine. (Merlin didn’t even know it was possible to do that.)
“Just listen,” Morgana said, conjuring the text, "It is to be said that any woman who does not do as bid by a man of noble blood is useless as a peasant, and any peasant who questions a noble is a blight on this Earth.” Morgana pulled a face of disgust.
Everyone who had been raised outside of Camelot (Gwen and Elyan, having been friends with Leon, had heard of this atrocious book) widened their eyes. Merlin, Gwaine, and Lancelot burst out laughing. Percival was aghast, his mouth wide open in disbelief. Mordred had to use his magic to stop himself from spilling his drink.
“There are actually fools like that?” Percival asked, and Leon nodded.
Merlin stopped laughing, choking out, “Gods, what a dollophead.”
“Hey,” Arthur said, flicking Merlin’s ear. “I thought I was the dollophead.”
“And?”
“I refuse to be in the same category as him.”
“I can’t believe I agree with you but yes. You’re a prat but he’s vile.”
Arthur grinned, wrapping an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and leaning his chin on his shoulder. Merlin poked at Arthur’s ribs until Arthur slung his other arm around his waist.
“Cold?” Arthur asked.
“Not everyone is spoilt, Arthur.”
“And not everyone is an all-powerful warlock, Merlin.”
“Shut up.”
Everyone pretended not to notice how they were both slightly flushed.
.
By the end of the second round all of them were sloshed. And with the type of confidence only the truly drunk have, they plotted their next words. Morgana was given “Ridiculous” (she was getting tired of the arguing), Elyan “That’s it” (he was getting tired of the teasing), Mordred “Magic” (Merlin had whispered it reverently, very drunk, and no one had the heart to tell him no.) and Leon “Calm down!” (the knights were rowdy and Morgana was scary). Merlin was given “Arthur'', Arthur “Merlin”, Gwen “Lancelot”, Lancelot “Gwen”, Percival “Gwaine” and Gwaine “Percy”. (The writer regrets that sentence.)
No one pointed out that Merlin and Arthur weren’t a couple. (Yet)
.
They were still sitting by the merry fire, bread and cheese littered about on silver plates. Elyan, Leon, and Morgana were the only ones who were holding intelligent conversation, the rest of them drunk and swaying even though they were sitting down.
"Percy - Perce. Love you. You know that?" Gwaine mumbled, holding Percival’s face with both hands.
“Love you, too, Gwaine. Gwaine, your hair,” Percival mumbled, running his fingers through it. Gwaine leaned into it, running his hands over Percival’s arms, and Merlin nodded.
“Arr - Arthur, Gwaine’s hair.”
“What’s the - what of it? I have hair, too, Merlin.” Arthur grumbled.
“Mmm, ‘s nice, too.” Merlin pushed Arthur’s hair out of his eyes. “But ‘s not nice when it hides your eyes, Arthur.”
Arthur flushed, but he was soon distracted when Lancelot said, loudly, "Gwen, really - Gwen, I really love you.” He patted her cheek lightly.
Gwen gasped. “Me too! I mean, I love you too, Lancelot. Wow.”
Lancelot smiled at Gwen, who was trying her best not to fall over. They tried to kiss, only to fall over backwards.
“Okay, that’s it,” Elyan said. “Both of you are going home. In fact, why don’t we all go home?”
“Ridiculous!” Morgana shouted, “The round’s not over yet.”
“Let’s finish it quickly, then!”
“No!” Morgana said, waving her hand to replenish everyone’s drinks.
“Calm down,” Leon said, prying Gwen and Lancelot apart, before they injured themselves. “There’s still about a quarter of the time left.”
“Wait,” Morgana said, turning green, “Perhaps we should end it now.”
“What? Why?” Merlin asked. “We’re having a lot of fun! Arthur, tell her.”
“For once, Merlin’s right. We’re having a lot of fun!”
“I think something I ate hates me.”
“Oh, that's - that's not good,” Arthur said, pausing. “Merlin’s a physician. He’s good.”
“’M not,” Merlin said, blushing, “ ’M not, but I could use magic?”
Morgana shook her head. “I think you’d better leave the magic to me, Merlin," she said, drunkenly patting Merlin's cheek. "You’re very drunk.”
Merlin nodded enthusiastically, and Arthur stared at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down on his pale and elegant neck.
.
None of the group really minded that they didn’t complete the game. They said their goodbyes, hugging and patting each other rather clumsily. Gwen and Lancelot left, leaning on each other and led by Elyan. Gwaine and Percival were led home by Mordred, who made sure they had water before leaving for his chambers. Morgana and Leon took the rest of the food to the kitchens before parting ways to go to their rooms.
Merlin didn’t even try to head to Gaius’ chambers, opting to stay in Arthur’s. He just magicked up some warm water to wash their faces and mouths, and some cold water to sober them up at least a little. Both of them changed into their sleeping clothes, and collapsed on Arthur’s bed. Arthur made himself comfortable, spreading his arms and legs and rolling halfway on top of Merlin on purpose. Merlin thought his heartbeat must be audible, it started pounding so loud.
“Get off, you prat!” Merlin grumbled, turning his face to hide his blush, and used magic to push Arthur off.
Arthur rolled away until he was lying on the left side, facing Merlin. His drunk eyes slowly trailed down his profile, Merlin’s long lashes, angular cheekbones, full lips, unruly hair, and how the moonlight made his eyes glow almost silvery gold. His sleep shirt was on backwards, his sharp collar bones peeking out, softer in the pale glow of the moon. He’d gained muscle in his years working for Arthur, his shoulders filling out nicely, and shadows forming on his forearms. Merlin turned to face Arthur, with a crooked grin on his face. Beautiful. Arthur felt his breath stutter. Shaking his head, Arthur settled more comfortably on his pillows.
.
“Sometimes, Merlin, I wonder if you even like me,” Arthur said, further into the night. They were both holding back yawns. With only the moon as witness, they had both grown braver, Merlin brushing his shoulder against Arthur’s and Arthur pressing his knee against Merlin’s.
“Think about it real hard, Arthur. It’s not that big a mystery.”
Arthur rolled his eyes.
“Well,” Merlin said, “Maybe don’t think too hard. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” He grinned, sunshine in the middle of the night (Arthur tried to tell himself it was normal to feel all fluttery and giddy), and patted Arthur’s chest. His warm hand lingered there.
Arthur snorted, leaning over to flick Merlin’s ear. “Seriously. What do you like about me?”
“Sweetheart,” Arthur pretended his heart didn’t speed up at the joking endearment, the warmth of Merlin’s hand only adding to the fluttering. “Your head is already big as it is.”
Merlin flopped back, making himself comfortable on Arthur’s arm. Arthur curled his arm around Merlin, pressing his palm against the top of Merlin’s head.
“Come on," he paused, working up his courage, and said, "Sweetheart." He ran his fingers carefully through Merlin’s hair. Merlin barely stopped himself from purring. “Pretend I’m one of your friends and sing my praises.”
Merlin pouted. “Who told you that?”
“Why don’t you take a guess and say the aforementioned friends?”
“You’re - you’re drunk. How are you saying words like ah-or-man, ah-for-men - shit.”
“It’s because I’m not a dollophead.”
“That’s my word.”
“Suits you perfectly.”
Merlin huffed, pulling Arthur’s arm from his head onto his chest, and hugging it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Arthur told himself the warmth he felt was just because he was under the covers.
“I’m getting new friends,” Merlin said, patting Arthur’s hand as if to say you’re safe, though, and grumbled, “Ones that don’t spread lies and slander about me.”
Arthur hummed, rubbing small circles with his thumb on Merlin. “C’mon. Tell me.”
“Bossy prat.”
Arthur laughed, the bed shaking with it. Merlin smiled.
“You,” he said, after a moment, turning his face to look Arthur in the eyes, “Are a good man, Arthur Pendragon.”
Arthur’s eyes widened, unable to look away. Something warm was stuck in his throat, put there by the sincerity Merlin was speaking with.
“Underneath all your blustering and thick-headedness,” Merlin said, tapping Arthur’s nose, “You have a heart of gold, and you’ll be the best king. The Once and Future King. You are the warmest, bravest, just-est - that can’t be right. Justice-est?” Merlin frowned a moment before continuing. “Most just!” he said victoriously, “ - man I know.”
Arthur thought his cheeks might split from the smile on his face. His stomach was awash with butterflies.
“You - you saved my life so many times. And you’re so smart!” Merlin frowned. “Ugh, I hope you don’t remember this tomorrow.”
“I’ll write it down, shall I?”
“No, no,” Merlin said, wrapping his arms and legs around Arthur to stop him from getting up.
Arthur felt drunken laughter bubbling up. “Alright, alright, I won’t.”
“Don’t remember this tomorrow. Promise?”
“I promise,” Arthur said. I promise I won’t forget to tell you how much you mean to me.
Merlin leaned closer, whispering like he was telling Arthur a secret. His eyes were sparkling crescent moons, and he seemed to glow softly. There were golden fish in the oceans of his eyes.
“I like you because I love you,” Merlin said, giving Arthur a delighted smile.
Arthur felt his breath stop.
His heart pounded like mad, his blush aiding his drunken flush. His eyes widened in awe, and he licked his lips without thinking. He saw Merlin’s eyes follow the tip of his tongue.
“Well.” He cleared his throat. “Pity, I only like you because of your magic.”
“Is that so?”
“Quite.”
“Bit of a prat, aren’t you?”
“A prince, actually.”
“A pompous prat of a prince, then.”
Arthur hummed, and drew Merlin closer, pressing his palm to his chest.
“You,” Arthur whispered a moment later, “Are the worst. You can’t spring that on me like that. But, if I’m being honest, Merlin, I'd be lost without you. You’re braver than I am, kinder than I am, and I hope you remember this tomorrow. Your smile is worth more to me than all the riches and land in the world.”
Merlin glanced up at him through his lashes, and blinked drunkenly twice, before smiling widely again.
“I’m not very tactful,” Merlin said, his breath caressing Arthur’s cheek, “So you’ll have to spell it out for me.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Arthur whispered.
“Not being an idiot, sire,” Merlin said, through his grin.
“Don’t - “ Arthur cut himself off to lean in closer. “Just call me Arthur.”
Merlin smiled, biting his lower lip. “Well, go on, then," he whispered, "Arthur.” He said it reverently, shaping his name like it was precious. “Spell it out for me.”
Arthur tried not to think why Merlin’s insolence was attractive. Or why his messed up hair and flushed cheeks and wine-stained lips were irresistible. Or why his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He would tell Merlin, though. Golden, fiery Merlin, magic and compassion and loyalty incarnate.
“For some gods forsaken reason, I - ” He looked at Merlin, and couldn’t help his smile. He knew he looked a smitten fool. “I love you, too, you idiot.”
Merlin grinned widely, leaning his forehead against Arthur’s. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” Arthur breathed, closing his eyes and nudging his nose against Merlin’s. After a heart stopping second, Merlin leaned closer to press his soft lips against Arthur’s. He stayed there for a moment before he drew back, going cross-eyed at the proximity. He drew back a little more and smiled, blue eyes roaming over Arthur’s face. Arthur knew he had a love-sick, dopey look but he found he didn't care, and let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Merlin blinked drowsily, still smiling fondly.
“Here,” Arthur mumbled, holding back a yawn. He brushed his lips against Merlin’s before arranging them into a more comfortable position. Merlin’s head was pressed against Arthur’s chest, and he wrapped both arms securely around Merlin. Under the covers, he tangled their legs together. Merlin intertwined their fingers, his warm palms solid against the backs of Arthur’s hands. It felt natural, like it was something they’d always done. And perhaps, they had, in every fond insult, and concern disguised as annoyance.
"Good night, prat," Merlin muttered.
"Good night, idiot," Arthur mumbled back.
Merlin let out a sleepy laugh, and pressed a kiss to Arthur's palm. Arthur tightened his arms around Merlin, brushing a few kisses to Merlin’s temple.
"Sweet dreams, Merlin."
"Sweet prince," Merlin yawned, "Dreams."
Soft moonlight painted everything with an ethereal wash of color. The moon was the only witness to the way the Pendragon crest on Arthur’s walls gleamed the sweet gold of magic, and how the covers tightened around the prince and warlock. The moon was a frozen circle of ice in the winter sky, but the last thing Arthur felt before drifting off to a land of dazzling angels with raven hair and ocean blue eyes, and golden bursts of magic was warmth, heavenly warmth.
.
Merlin slowly crawled back into consciousness with the feeling of something warm and alive next to his neck and tangled with his arms and legs. The warm thing moved, nudging a cold nose against his cheek and pressing a soft kiss there. Gentle lips lingered, whispering breaths tickling his neck. Merlin kept his eyes closed, because there was no way -
"Good morning, sweetheart." Arthur's voice was rough and deep with sleep, rumbling in his chest. Merlin let out a relieved smile. It wasn't a dream. He turned to face Arthur. His golden hair stuck up in strange shapes, and there were pink pillow marks on his cheek. His eyes, clear summer skies, were still dazed with sleep. Red lips - soft, red lips, were curved into a private smile. Merlin felt his face flush.
"Good - '' Merlin stopped, realizing that something had rolled in dung before crawling into his mouth and died there. His face screwed up in disgust.
"Gods, I thought we washed," Merlin complained, dragging himself up. He was stopped by a warm hand on his chest, tugging him back down.
"Stay."
Merlin's face absolutely did not turn redder because of that.
"I'm not a dog, you clotpole."
"No, you're a warlock. Just - " Arthur pulled him back into his arms, and nuzzled against Merlin's neck. "Do it with magic."
Merlin huffed a laugh, nudging his magic to clean them up again. His mouth was now carcass-taste free, pleasantly fresh and minty. Instead of the stale stench of too much alcohol, he could faintly smell the rose and lavender he used in Arthur's bathwater.
"See? 'S nice."
"Lazy, lazy. What kind of king will you be?"
Arthur chuckled, "According to someone I know, the best one."
"Don't listen to him, he was inebriated."
"That's a big word."
"Shut up, Arthur."
"That's your no-no word. You'd better drink."
"Arthur?"
"Yes. Now you have to drink twice."
"I'd rather die."
Arthur hummed, lifting Merlin's chin with gentle fingers. "We can't have that. As Crown Prince of Camelot, I declare your punishment to be kissing me."
"Yes, kissing you is quite the punishment, isn't it?" Merlin smirked, nudging his nose against Arthur's jaw.
"Shut up, Merlin."
"And that's your no-no word."
"Guess you'll have to punish me then."
"You're a sap, you know that? Honestly, Arthur - "
Arthur cut him off by rolling on top of Merlin and pressing his lips against Merlin’s three times. "That was three times," he said, grinning widely at Merlin. Merlin's heart dropped to his stomach.
"Arthur - "
Arthur cut him off again.
"Arth - "
And once more.
"Ar - "
This time he didn't move away, tugging Merlin closer and moving his head to kiss him properly. One hand trailed over Merlin's neck, the other intertwining with Merlin's warm fingers. Merlin lifted his free hand to hold Arthur's waist, marveling at the muscle moving smoothly under his touch. Arthur nipped at Merlin's bottom lip, licking into his mouth when Merlin opened it in surprise. Merlin responded happily, smiling into the kiss. Arthur made a small, pleased sound before pulling back.
He gave Merlin a crooked grin, eyes never leaving Merlin's. Blinking slowly, "I quite like this way of shutting you up."
"Shut up, Arthur," he replied, no heat behind the words.
"Make me."
Merlin couldn't help his laugh. "Gods, I love you."
"I - " Arthur took a deep breath. "That would shut me up."
Merlin smiled, delighted. "That does?"
"Oh, don't look so pleased. It's only because I'm mad for you."
"I am pleased."
"I'm not."
"Are you ever?"
"I would be if you kissed me again.”
"Gwaine was right. You royals are too demanding."
"Merlin," Arthur warned, even as he gave Merlin a fond smile.
"That's your no-no word," Merlin breathed, leaning in to press their lips together again.
By lost_for_me on ao3