Merthur One Shots

A Little Drunken Mistake

Merlin slowly opened his eyes, fazed at the darkness that surrounded him. No blinding morning sun to disturb the sweet sleep he rarely got to enjoy. And then there was the silence. No Gaius or furious king yelling his name to get the hell out of bed. It was dark and quiet.

It took his dazed brain, still under the influence of alcohol, a few moments to realize that it was still the middle of the night. And it was... warm? And that scent? He's dreamt of Arthur before, but to actually smell him? He was going insane, for sure! Merlin tried to get up. He just wanted to drink a glass of water. His mouth and throat felt like a desert, his tongue sticking to the insides of his cheeks. Just lifting his head required an unnatural amount of effort, but he didn't think it would be this hard to untangle himself from all the blankets snaked weirdly around his body.

Until he realized, they weren't blankets. They were arms, strong ones. Painfully familiar ones. Dangerously resembling those of a certain blonde haired ass.

Oh god let me be mistaken! Merlin prayed as he slowly turned around. His blood froze in his veins when he found himself only inches away from Arthur's sleepy face.

What the hell happened last night?

Gwaine begging him to join them to the tavern for once, him accepting just to be done with it. Tankard after tankard and at some point, it all goes black. So, what the hell happened after?

The boy shifted uncomfortably, the warmth in his chest at the closeness with his king not helping at all and, despite the very complicated and, might I add, delicate situation, he couldn't help but take his time to admire the man who now held him protectively, as he had always dreamed. From his blonde hair that shone golden in the sun, to his spring water blue eyes, to his full, red lips and that sharp jawline, his toned chest and surprisingly soft skin and - oh my god!

Oh god, oh god, oh god! were the only things crossing Merlin's mind at the time.

Arthur was naked. He was fucking naked. For fuck's sake, they were fucking naked, sharing a bed after a night in the tavern! How could one misread this situation?

Things started, slowly, gradually coming back to our raven haired boy, who was growing more anxious with every passing second. How could he have been so foolish? Accepting to do something like that with a drunk off his face Arthur? How could he have not thought of the consequences?!

"Why couldn't this have happened when we were both sober?" Merlin sighed while quickly untangling himself from the mess of blankets, arms, legs and, well, other kinds of members.

He knew he had to leave as soon as possible and hope Arthur wouldn't remember anything in the morning. Or ever, for that matter. His heart was hammering in his chest with both fear and pain. Why would he even torture himself like that? He knew he could never have Arthur the way he wanted, so why take a taste just so he could yearn for more afterwards? God, was he stupid!

As he hurriedly released himself of the strong grip on his waist, he felt like a whore, doing what he did best and then leaving in the middle of the night. God, he almost expected to find his money on the table. He felt as though he would never even be more in Arthur's eyes.

Why did I have to be so fucking stupid? he questioned for the hundredth time already.

As he was getting ready to leave the bed, placing a foot on the ice cold floor, he felt a hand grab his wrist. His blood froze in his veins as he slowly turned around to face a very awake Arthur. That was it! He might as well reveal his magic, cause he was going to die right there and then anyway.

"Where do you think you're going?" came the very sleepy question.

"H-home?" Merlin answered shakily, trying to ignore the fact that he was still naked, standing there, in all his glory, for Arthur to see.

"Why?"

Merlin cursed the prat for being so damn placid at that very inconvenient time. He couldn't guess what his king was thinking for the life of him. And that certainly was something new.

"I just thought you would want me to!"

Arthur just shook his head slightly before pulling Merlin back under the covers with him. 

"Why would I want you to?"

Merlin was confused, but he let himself be dragged back into the bed, his heart now hammering aggressively in his chest with what he recognized as hope.

"What do you mean? Aren't you going to tell me this was all a mistake? That you were drunk?" His hands were trembling and only he knew the amount of courage he needed to address that question.

"Weren't you the one who always said that all alcohol does is give a voice to one's deepest desires?" Arthur asked, no shame in his voice, causing a shiver to run down Merlin's spine, for once silencing the boy.

He started trailing Merlin's pale skin with trembling fingers, until he finally let his hand rest on the man's hip. Merlin tensed with every move of Arthur's arm, but he did nothing to stop him.

"Did I hurt you?" Arthur's voice suddenly rang shakily through the still air. He sounded almost afraid and, in truth, he really was. Only he knew how hard it was to keep all the raw feelings and desire in check, how hard it was to hold back when Merlin was around, so he was afraid. Afraid of what he might have done.

"I'm not that frail, Arthur!" Merlin huffed, starting to relax a little.

"I know! I just... I need to know, Merlin! Was I gentle with you?" The king's voice now reflected a faint trail of despair, something so uncharacteristic.

Merlin purred under Arthur's so warm kisses, so soft touches, so gentle thrusts. He could tell how much Arthur was holding back by the violent tremble of his fingers and the clenched jaw, but the man wouldn't give in, keeping a steady, slow pace so he wouldn't hurt Merlin more than necessary, constantly, lovingly caressing the pale skin of the man he so wanted and finally had.

"Yes, you were!" Merlin answered, struggling to swallow the lump that blocked his throat at the memory of that night's events.

And truthfully, now that he thought about it, Arthur had been, contrary to what anyone would have though, extremely careful and considerate, thing that made Merlin love him even more.

Arthur let out a deep breath he didn't even know was holding and tightened his grip on the man's waist.

And then, silence. None of them talked, none of them knew what to say. It was so weird, especially for Merlin who did not expect Arthur to act so civilised after such a thing happening between them in the first place. But to actually ask him if he hurt him? To actually care? And, most surprising, to show it? That was something new.

"I'm sorry, Merlin!" Arthur finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

"What for?"

"For not remembering something so important!"

Merlin didn't answer. What could he have possibly said? It's alright, Arthur? or maybe It happens?, It's not like it meant anything to me?

To just answer as though it really didn't mean anything to him was pure hypocrisy, because it really meant the world to Merlin.

"And I'm also sorry... for forcing you to do this!"

The unexpected words, spoken on such a broken and sad voice, hit Merlin like a hammer. He slowly turned around to face his friend and, for the first time since he woke up, he looked into the man's eyes.

"What made you think you forced me into this?"

Arthur seemed surprised.

"W-well, I just, I don't know. It's not something... normal. For a man to make another man feel like this", Arthur muttered, whispering the last sentence, looking down, almost in shame.

Merlin just showed a big smile, mostly caused by the endearing feeling at his friend's almost confession. With newfound confidence, he leaned in and softly brushed his lips against Arthur's, deepening the kiss when the blond responded without delay. 

"When has anything about me ever been normal?"