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When Arthur found out that his father was looking for Merlin in order to put him in jail, the first thing that popped into his mind was that he couldn’t let his father get his hands on Merlin. Arthur has seen what his father does to people that he doesn’t care about, has seen the level of cruelty that his father can bestow when he feels he’s been wronged. And what greater wrong can a servant do than steal from the king’s wife? So Arthur is not going to take any chances with Merlin’s luck against the king, and his main goal is to get Merlin as far away from Camelot as possible, in the quickest amount of time.
Except that Merlin is nowhere to be found, and if his men find Merlin before he does, they’ll surely take him to his father first. So Arthur is in a race against time, his men, and his father, to find Merlin. Luckily the boy is in Arthur’s chambers, where he’s supposed to be for once, and Arthur finds him with minutes to spare before the other guards. Merlin is safe, and Arthur tells the boy to go, to run away from Camelot because he’s in danger. He doesn’t care if Merlin is innocent or not, because his father won’t care. His father is going to have Merlin imprisoned, and hung by the end of the day. Arthur can’t let that happen though, so he tells the boy to run, and can only watch as his favorite servant, his closest friend, and love of his life runs out the door.
The events that transpire, from his father raising the taxes to him being disinherited of the throne, all he can think about is how Merlin is out there, somewhere, alone, and probably afraid. He knows that Merlin is probably going to be heading home, to Ialdore, but that’s a far journey from Camelot, and a lot could go wrong. He tells himself that Merlin is a smart, resourceful lad, who has saved his life multiple times, although he’d never admit any of it to the boy himself. He’s confident that Merlin can get to safety, but can Merlin stay safe? The boy is a magnet for trouble, and he picks up more strays that the kitchen maids. Will one of those strays hurt Merlin? Or worse, will Merlin fall in love with one of them? They aren’t good enough, whoever they are, for Merlin, his bright smile, or his kind heart. No one, not even Arthur himself is good enough for Merlin.
That’s one of the reasons why Arthur has stayed so far away from Merlin. Why he’s kept up the firm barrier of Prince and Servant. Why he won’t let Merlin touch him, and he’s constantly throwing things, and calling him names. It’s so that Arthur can keep the lad at a distance. He’s the future king of Camelot, he can’t be consorting with a Servant. Plus, he has to work out the strange feelings for Guinevere that have been stirring up lately. He doesn’t know what exactly about her has his heart beating faster, but when she looks at him from under her lashes, like she’s wont to do a lot these days, his heart picks up. He seems to have a habit of falling for servants. Maybe it’s not that they’re servants, but the fact that they are the only two people in Camelot who treat him as if he were a person and not the prince.
From the moment Merlin met him he’s shown his distaste for titles, and treated Arthur as if he weren’t special because of the way he was born, but because Arthur has earned it. Gwen used to walk on eggshells around him just like everybody else, but since he’s met Merlin he’s changed. He’s become gentler, and Gwen now calls him on his BS and guides him with her wisdom. He has these two strong voices in his head telling him that one day he’ll be a great king, and maybe it’s going to his head, but he can’t help but believe them as long as he has them by his side. This makes Arthur sad again because Merlin can’t be by his side anymore. If Merlin ever were to return to Camelot, his father would have him killed.
He forces those sad thoughts out of his head though. He ignores the fact that he is no longer the Crown Prince of Camelot. He ignores the fact that his stepmother is a troll. He ignores the fact that his father doesn’t love him anymore. He ignores the fact that Merlin is gone and will never return. He ignores the fact that he could never even hope to be with Merlin or Gwen since he’s a prince and they are servants. All of these things try to penetrate his mind as he leans against his pillows with a vat of oil next to his bed. But he shoves them all in a box to deal with in the morning, as he unbuckles his belt, and kicks off his pants.
Arthur doesn’t let himself indulge in his fantasies, and in this pleasure, a lot. He feels too weak after when he’s high off of endorphins and orgasm. He doesn’t want anybody to see him that way, not being prepared or on guard. So he doesn’t touch himself but every once in a while. Today is one of those days though because he needs to blow off some steam and relax a little. And he’s far too socially conscious to go out and get a girl or to hire one, let alone take a servant. He could never do any of those, so he contents himself with his hand. It’s gotten him through years without a warm body, and it can get him through another restless night.
He’s usually not sensual, or romantic when he does this, simply because it’s only a form of getting off. Tonight though, he’s feeling vulnerable, and sad, and many other things that he can’t unpack, so he fantasizes a bit more than he usually would before touching himself.
He lays back against the pillows, pants long gone, and imagines Guinevere crawling up the bed in nothing but a nightgown. She’d be biting her lip, giving him her patented look through her lashes, and she’d be saying how much she adores him. How brave he is, and kind, or what a great king he’ll be. It’s what he loves hearing from her the most and always manages to get him hard.
He begins slowly stroking himself as his eyes fall shut and she straddles his legs, her warm opening not too far from his cock. She’d still be telling him how great he is, but he’ll barely be listening because her supple breasts are in his face and he feels drawn to them. He leans forward and presses his face into them, but suddenly it’s no longer a pair of tan breasts he’s leaning on but a pale skinny chest. The eyes that gaze at him through long lashes give way to big doe eyes that are full of mirth and something else that Arthur can never quite place. It’s as if Merlin’s eyes are always glowing, full of something beyond his years, and beyond Arthur’s comprehension.
He lets his mind roam, instead of shutting it down like he usually would. He lets Merlin press himself against Arthur’s erection. He lets Merlin’s hands roam, just as Arthurs’s roam over Merlin. He lets himself grab Merlin’s pert little arse and squeeze like he’s always wanted to. And when Merlin gasps from the touch, Arthur lets himself kiss the imaginary boy’s lips. He lets his tongue enter the boy’s mouth, and map it, and the sounds the boy makes.
His hands are moving faster over his cock before he even realizes it, but the fantasy is too good, and he can’t stop himself. He knows he’s going to come soon; he hasn’t done this in a while and Merlin has moved to biting his neck in his fantasy, so he’s practically a goner. He lets his mind wander further, to what it will feel like when he opens Merlin up on his fingers. What sounds the boy would make, and if he’d call out Arthur’s name. He wonders if Merlin is the quiet type or the loud type. If, when Arthur slides into him for the first time, he’ll have to cover the boy’s mouth with his hand in order to keep him quiet. To stop him from waking the whole castle. By the gods does he want Merlin to be loud. He wants him so loud that Arthur has to keep his hand over his mouth the entire time they have sex, and if he can’t he’ll have to silence him with kisses.
Merlin would be so tight, Arthur imagines, because in his fantasies Merlin is pure, untouched by both Male and Female. Merlin has no clue what he’s doing and he allows Arthur to take control and give him pleasure. But he also imagines that when Merlin has learned all that Arthur can teach him, (because Arthur knows that the boy is a fast learner) that Merlin will take control. That he’ll push Arthur onto the bed, and ride him within an inch of his life because Merlin may be docile at first, once he’s comfortable he’s gonna be a power-bottom, who takes what he wants. Arthur has no complaints about his made-up bossy Merlin and would be happy to let the boy use him.
And with that thought, Arthur shoots his load all over his hands and chest with a silent cry of the boy’s name. It’s a euphoric feeling, and Arthur wonders if anyone else feels like this when they orgasm, or if it’s just him. He hopes others get to feel this sensational too, it would be a pity if they didn’t. He lets himself float for a bit, happy to have relaxed considerably before he gets up to clean himself up and put away the oil he’d used. He doesn’t need anybody to see it and get the wrong idea. Well the right idea, but he doesn’t want them to know. He swears he hears a noise, a slight shuffling sound, but he knows that he’s imagined it.
Merlin is gone, and he hasn’t had time to get a new servant, and no one else comes into his room without knocking first. He ignores the noise and goes about his usual clean up, finishing undressing and putting on his sleep clothes. Once he’s all done, he falls into bed, covers himself, and blows out his candle. He settles down and can feel himself falling asleep, still floating from his orgasm.
“Arthur,” He hears whispered, and his eyes shoot open. He thinks maybe he’s dreamed it but then again, he hears his name whispered.
He’s jumping out of his bed, grabbing his sword and ready to fight, with an exclamation of “who’s there?”
“Merlin,” is the reply just as said boy pops out from under his bed. He’s excited to see the boy, but can’t let on about so he says,
“You’re back,” with no emotion other than irritation at being startled.
“I never left,” is not the reply from Merlin that he was expecting and he is immediately terrified. But he can’t let Merlin know that.
“You mean to say…” He starts, hesitant and scared, but sounding composed.
“Yes,” Merling agrees, making Arthur’s heart rate beat a little faster.
“That you’ve been under there, this whole time?” Arthur finishes because he can’t stop himself. His heart is beating ten miles an hour, even though his voice and face are composed as ever. Thank the gods he’s had to attend so many meetings with his father, where he couldn’t let his boredom show for risk of being put in the cells. It’s taught him how to have an excellent poker face.
“No! Of course not, no.” Merlin exclaims, making Arthur’s heartbeat a little slower but enough to where he doesn’t double-check.
“Cause if you were…” Arthur threatens, pointing his sword at Merlin. Inside he’s petrified by the thought that Merlin could have been under there this whole time and heard what he was doing. He’s pretty sure he even called Merlin’s name when he orgasmed, and he’d be humiliated if the boy heard all that.
“I wasn’t, I swear,” Merlin says, which puts Arthur’s heart at rest and he’s able to walk to his desk and sit as Merlin slides out from under his bed. He makes the same shuffling sound getting out as Arthur heard earlier and he now knows where it came from. Merlin really wasn’t under there the whole time.
They begin to converse as usual, well as usual as talking about having a troll for a stepmother normally is. Arthur acts as normal as he can, while also not being able to get the sounds that Merlin made in his fantasies out of his head. It makes for an interesting conversation when Merlin tells him that they’re going to have to kill him, but he’s barely listening because the boy has gone about ‘tidying’ up his room (Merlin’s idea of tidying is putting anything non-essential behind desks and dressers, and shoving things under places) and Arthur is watching him bend over a dresser to drop his torn-up boots behind it.
Gaius, though, interrupts the whole situation and they actually come up with a plan. A plan that Arthur is still on the fence about, but only agreed to because he trusts Merlin more than he’ll ever admit. And his trust pays off. The king is cured, the troll is dead, and all is as it should be.
That’s why he knows that he owes Merlin a thank you, even if he won’t actually say those specific words. He corners the boy in a hallway by calling;
“Merlin!” and when the boy turns to him he continues, “I want you to know that I never doubted you” Which is a total fucking lie, he had his doubts, he was just willing to ignore them. He can read on Merlin’s face that he knows too that it’s total bull. Nevertheless, he continues: “Alright, maybe I did. But it’s your own fault. You’ve got a suspicious look about you. Shifty. Like you’ve got something to hide.”
“I am an open book,” Merlin lies, but Arthur is not here to debate whether or not Merlin is as open as he says he is. Arthur knows that Merlin has his secrets, and for now, he’s willing to let him keep them.
“I don’t believe that for a second. However, I do know that without your help I’d still have a troll for a stepmother,” Arthur says, as emotional as he’s willing to get with thoughts of Merlin riding him still fresh in his mind.
It’s awkward for a matter of moments before Arthur goes to break it with a “well, thanks” and a shoulder pat. But Merlin goes in for a hug, and while Arthur would like nothing more than to touch him, he also knows that that would only lead to madness. His own madness. So he stops him with a “Woah,” and raises his hands, backing up a step to put distance between them. “What are you doing?” he accuses lightly.
“I thought you were going for a hug,” Merlin admits awkwardly. It warms Arthur’s heart that Merlin wants to hug him, but he stamps it down because nothing could ever come of it.
“No,” He says, honestly.
“Nope,” Merlin mumbles, as they both slowly put their hands down, and then Arthur runs away. Well, he doesn’t run, but he walks as quickly as is acceptable in order to put some distance between them.
Only the gods know what would have happened if Arthur had allowed himself to touch the boy.