Let Go and Watch the Sunlight Bend

by cherrybina

Summary:

It's the hottest summer in Camelot's history. Arthur is confused about what he likes, Merlin tries to help him figure it out, but neither one of them has a clue what they really want.

It's the hottest summer anyone in Camelot can remember.

Day after day, the heat beats down from the harsh summer sun and bounces back up off the cobblestones, pushing in from every direction, making it hard to breathe. The line at the water pump starts just after sunrise, and every day at least one person is carried off to Gaius' quarters after fainting in the courtyard.

In the afternoon when the temperature is at its most oppressive, the city slows down. The shops in the market close up so that the owners can escape the heavy humid air for a few hours until the sun dips low enough in the sky that the heat no longer rolls like waves down the streets. Those lucky enough to have business in the castle stay there, where the thick stone walls provide some protection against the bright sun.

Just past midday the streets are quiet, but on the training field behind the castle, it's business as usual.

Arthur squints into the sun for a moment then turns to face the knights in a ragged line in front of him. They have been practising for several hours, and with each passing match, the men appear to wilt even further. Arthur's hair is plastered to his head where it's been trapped under his helmet most of the day, and he can feel the sweat running down his back, pooling uncomfortably against his skin.

"Right, we will continue one-on-one sparring. Who would like to face me next?" he asks, scanning the line of exhausted faces.

"I will, my lord," Sir Leon says, stepping forward.

Leon's hair is drenched with sweat and his face red, but otherwise he looks stronger and more alert than any of the others.

Arthur nods and starts to put his helmet back on when a movement at the edge of the field catches his eye. He turns and sees Merlin waving at him from the sideline. Arthur tries to ignore him, but Merlin's hand waving becomes more urgent and exaggerated, so Arthur instructs the knights to take a short break and drink some water before crossing the field to where Merlin is standing.

"What is so important that you felt it necessary to interrupt?" Arthur asks with annoyance.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but Gaius said that you should not be working the knights at this time of day. He thinks you should only hold training first thing in the morning or else wait until evening," Merlin says, handing Arthur a skin full of water.

"And what does Gaius know about training an army? We could be summoned to war in any weather. Our enemies will not call a halt in the midst of battle because it's too hot," Arthur says before drinking deeply.

"Three people have died already this week from heat sickness — " Merlin cuts Arthur off before he can protest, " — and only one of them was an old man. The other two were young and otherwise healthy."

Arthur hands the skin back to Merlin and takes the cloth he offers in its place. He's been in a bad mood for at least an hour and Merlin's interruption is not helping, but as he mops his face and neck, watching as the men collapse on the grass across the field, he's forced to admit Gaius is probably right. Even though the knights are strong and fit, Arthur can see that the heat is taking a toll. It would be a great loss for something to happen to any one of them during a practice session.

"Fine," he says, tossing the sweaty cloth back into Merlin's hands.

Arthur storms back onto the field and puts an end to training, ordering the knights back bright and early the next morning, before the heat of the day sets in. Their relief is obvious, which only serves to increase Arthur's irritation.

When Arthur gets back to the edge of the field, he shoves his sword and shield at Merlin.

"Why do you look so miserable?" Merlin asks. "From where I stood it looked like you won every single match."

"From where I stood it looked like you were doing nothing," Arthur snaps back.

Merlin just grins at him, annoyingly cheerful. "Oh, well then next time I'll join you on the field. I'm sure that would end quite well."

Arthur can feel his temper flare, and he knows he's close to his breaking point. "Go away, Merlin."

"Don't be silly. You'll never get out of that armour alone," Merlin says, undeterred.

Arthur is in no mood to argue so he just sighs, "Fine."

They head back across the lawn, Merlin keeping pace no matter how much Arthur tries to leave him behind. Merlin doesn't stop talking the whole way — something about Gaius researching the long-term effects of the heat, and other nonsense that Arthur has absolutely no interest in hearing.

The temperature drops noticeably when they enter the castle, and Arthur sucks in deep gulps of the cooler air. Now that his focus is off the knights, he realises that he's a bit more breathless and worn out than usual after training.

When they arrive at his chambers, Arthur bangs the door open. Merlin follows Arthur, dropping his sword and helmet onto the table with a loud thunk.

"Let me get you out of that," Merlin says, stepping toward Arthur. "You've got to be roasting under there."

Merlin's right. Even now that he's out of the sun, Arthur is almost unbearably hot and uncomfortable. His sweat-drenched clothing chafes against his skin, and his armour, usually such a familiar weight on his shoulders, suddenly feels too tight around his body. Arthur is still out of breath, and he fumbles at the straps to his vambraces, eager to get some air on his skin.

Merlin bats Arthur's hands away, taking over with nimble fingers. Merlin's ineptitude from his early days as Arthur's servant is gone, and he removes each piece of armour with practised ease. Usually Merlin stops once Arthur is stripped down to his doublet, leaving him to take care of the rest on his own, but today Merlin helps him out of that as well, and Arthur is too distracted to stop him. Once Arthur is down to nothing but his shirt and breeches clinging to his skin, the real source of all of his frustration is obvious to the both of them.

"Oh, um — sorry, I didn't…" Merlin stammers with his hands still on Arthur's shirt, doing his best to look away from where Arthur's erection is straining against the front of his trousers.

Arthur shoves Merlin's hands away with irritation. "It's nothing."

Merlin stares down at the ground for a moment and when he looks back up at Arthur, the corners of his lips are curled up in a tiny smile. "Is it because of the knights?"

Arthur freezes. "Excuse me?"

Merlin shrugs like it's the most normal thing in the world to discuss. "They're all very handsome, aren't they? And brave and loyal and strong. I can understand why you might, you know," he says, gesturing at the front of Arthur's breeches.

Arthur's face burns and he struggles to take a deep breath before speaking. "What are you even — they're the knights of Camelot, Merlin. Of course they are brave and loyal and strong."

"And handsome," Merlin adds, nodding his head with an encouraging smile.

"That's — I can't…" Arthur is about three seconds away from shouting, so he closes his eyes briefly and works to keep his voice even. "This is quite possibly the most ridiculous and inappropriate thing you have ever said to me, and that's really saying something. Now before I change my mind and decide to throw you in the stocks for your insolent behaviour, I suggest you go take care of my armour somewhere that is not here."

"Yes, Arthur," Merlin says without a trace of deference.

Merlin collects Arthur's armour and starts to head out of the room.

"Next time try — " Merlin makes a lewd motion with his hand, nearly dropping Arthur's helmet in the process, " — before practice. Maybe it will help, yeah?"

Arthur glares at Merlin. "Get out."

When Merlin is finally gone, Arthur leans his forehead against the wall, the stones cool against his overheated skin.

***

Later that day, Arthur rides out to check one of the crop fields. They're fortunate that despite the heat, there has still been adequate rainfall and neither the crops nor the water supply are suffering. It takes most of the rest of the day to get there and back, and when he finally returns to his chambers that night, he's completely worn out, After changing into his nightshirt, he collapses in bed, too hot to climb under the sheets.

His body is exhausted but his mind races, and he tosses and turns, trying to will his thoughts to slow down enough so he can sleep. Eventually his conversation with Merlin replays in his mind despite his best intentions to forget all about it.

It's a ridiculous notion that he should think of the knights as handsome, or desire them in any way. He's sure it was just Merlin talking nonsense yet again, or perhaps some silly ideas he acquired growing up in the country about how things work in the Order of the Knights. His own state of arousal following training is simply a natural consequence of intense physical activity, nothing more.

As Arthur rolls onto his stomach, his cock rubs against the mattress, trapped under the material of his shirt. He's been half hard since he climbed into bed, but it's not until he slides along the mattress again, deliberately this time, that he gives it much attention. He turns onto his back and sighs. When he bends his knees and puts his feet flat on the mattress, his nightshirt rides up over his stomach, leaving his lower body totally exposed. The night air feels good against his bare skin, and it seems only logical then to tug his shirt over his head so he's not wearing anything at all.

Usually he doesn't bother undressing when he touches himself, opting instead to get off with one hand under his nightshirt, or pushed down his sleeping trousers if he's wearing them. He's surprised at how erotic it feels to be naked, stretched out on the sheets like this. He runs one hand down his bare chest to where his cock rests against his stomach, fully hard now, and already wet at the tip. He trails his fingers over his lower belly, skimming just the tips of them along his length. There's no real intent behind his movements yet; he's just teasing with idle touches as the heat builds under his skin until it's burning as hot as it does under the summer sun.

Arthur strokes himself once with a loose fist then moves his hand lower to his balls, rolling them in his palm and tugging gently at the skin before moving back up again along his cock. There's a bead of precome glistening at the tip, and he slides his thumb through it, smearing it over the head, sucking in a breath at the way his whole body tingles under his touch.

Arthur concentrates hard on the way each movement of his hand makes him gasp and shiver, but when he finally wraps his hand around his cock and pulls, his thoughts slip away from his tight focus. His fantasies have never really been specific — nothing more than fuzzy glimpses of a hand or a mouth on his body — but tonight his drifting thoughts converge on the image of his knights, lined up before him, ready and willing to do anything he commands.

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, trying to shift his thoughts to anything else, but he's too far gone to fight very hard, so he surrenders to the pictures behind his eyelids. His fist slides over his cock, aided by the fine sheen of sweat that breaks out all over his skin, and the thoughts in his mind flash in rapid succession: a big hand around his cock working him with calloused fingers, a firm body beneath his own, a deep voice in his ear urging Arthur to please, please, please, just do it.

Arthur is unable to suppress a moan that sounds so loud in the silence of the night as he strokes himself faster. He lets his thighs fall apart and braces himself on the bed with his free hand as he rocks his hips up, pushing into his fist.

Arthur is close — so close — when his thoughts shift again and he sees a tall man with broad shoulders standing in front of him. The face is indistinct — somehow it's one of his knights and all of them at the same time — and he's naked and eager. When he drops to his knees in front of Arthur and murmurs, "I submit, my lord," Arthur's back arches off the bed and he comes hard enough to see stars.

***

After breakfast the next morning, Arthur paces back and forth next to the window in his room. Despite the fact that he slept poorly, he's restless and full of pent up energy, anxious to get out on the field to work away his tension.

He stops pacing and looks over to where Merlin sits at the table hunched over Arthur's armour, hammering out a dent.

"Are you nearly finished?" Arthur asks.

"Almost," Merlin answers without looking up.

"You do realise that this should have been done yesterday."

"I spent the entire evening drying and polishing your armour so that it wouldn't rust. You're a very sweaty man, Arthur," Merlin says, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Arthur sighs in frustration. "Well, hurry up. You were the one telling me yesterday how important it is to start early in the day, remember?"

Merlin doesn't answer; instead he continues tapping away in silence for another few minutes until he's finally satisfied and puts the hammer down.

After Merlin straps Arthur into his armour, he steps back. "You're all set."

Arthur doesn't reply; he just jerks his head up and down in a quick nod.

"Are you okay?" Merlin asks. "You look — funny."

"Yes, Merlin, I'm fine," Arthur says, irritation creeping into his voice.

Merlin's eyes widen in realisation. "Oh! So, did you — "

"It is in your best interest not to finish that thought," Arthur interrupts through gritted teeth, walking toward the door.

"Sorry," Merlin says as he follows, not sounding sorry at all.

The early morning sun is hazy in the sky, and even though the air is warm, the oppressive heat has not yet set in. When the training field comes into view, Arthur can see the other men already there.

"I'm late to my own training session. That's just wonderful, Merlin," Arthur spits out.

"Yes, but your armour looks perfect."

Once they get to the edge of the field, Arthur yanks his helmet out of Merlin's hands. Arthur looks over to where the knights are talking amongst themselves. When Arthur spots Sir Leon, standing a head taller than the others, his face burns and he feels slightly nauseous. Arthur turns away and sees Merlin watching him with a knowing smile.

"They're waiting for you," Merlin says, handing Arthur first his sword and then his shield.

Arthur turns back to face the knights, most of whom are looking over in his direction.

Arthur flexes his grip around the handle of his sword. "Yes, they are."

The men are in good spirits due to the relative coolness of the morning, and Arthur takes them through the usual drills to warm up. Once the blood is pumping through his veins and the sweat starts beading on his upper lip and running down the back of his neck, Arthur's mood improves. For as long as he can remember, Arthur has felt his best just like this: a sword in his hand and the rush of adrenaline that comes from pushing his body to its limits.

As the morning wears on, the sun creeps higher in the sky, bringing with it the full heat of the day. Arthur allows a short break for water, then reassembles the men on the field.

"Continuing from where we left off yesterday, I want you to practise the techniques we worked on earlier. I will demonstrate with one of you first, then everyone will pair off."

Sir Leon immediately steps forward. "Sire, since I did not get the chance to spar with you yesterday, I volunteer."

Arthur's chest tightens, but he just swallows hard and nods.

Arthur and Leon face one another in the centre of the field, surrounded by the other knights. A few droplets of sweat run into Arthur's eye and he blinks at the burn, trying to focus through the narrow opening of his helmet. It distracts him for a moment, but as soon as Leon raises his sword and advances forward, Arthur forgets about everything else.

When he fights, Arthur's whole world closes in until there is nothing except his sword and his shield and his body, thrusting and blocking while anticipating the next move. Sir Leon is one of Arthur's best knights and a formidable opponent. Arthur can hear the whoops and hollers of the other men cheering them on distantly, but it takes all of his concentration to stay ahead of Leon.

Arthur can see his victory before it happens: Leon, trying to anticipate Arthur's attack, moves to block from the left, but Arthur goes in from the right, and with a twist of his wrist he knocks Leon's sword out of his grip.

Leon pulls off his helmet and drops down to his knees at Arthur's feet. He looks up at Arthur through the sweat soaked hair that hangs across his eyes. "I submit, my lord."

Arthur's breath catches in his throat and he stumbles backward, nearly tripping over his own feet. Leon stands up and takes a step toward Arthur.

"Are you all right, sire?"

Arthur yanks off his helmet and sucks in a deep breath of air. "Practice is over," he says and turns to leave, ignoring the looks of confusion on the knights' faces.

Merlin is already grinning when Arthur reaches the edge of the field, and Arthur wants nothing more than to knock him in the side of his head with the hilt of his sword.

"So, Sir Leon, huh?"

Arthur throws his helmet and sword onto the ground, ignoring Merlin's outstretched hands, and spins away, marching off toward the castle alone. Merlin is not particularly strong, but he is fast, and he catches up with Arthur halfway up the staircase just beyond the entrance hall.

Back in his chambers, Arthur stands in silence while Merlin unstraps his armour, trying to will his body to follow his command, but that goes about as well as it ever has. When the armour comes free, Merlin looks down then back up at Arthur's face, cocking his head to the side and raising his eyebrows.

"I'll just leave you alone then," Merlin says, collecting Arthur's armour and walking toward the door.

Arthur doesn't have the energy to yell, so he just slumps against the wall behind him and waits until he's sure Merlin is long gone before shoving his breeches to his knees. With his fist around his cock and the memory of practice fresh in his mind, it only takes a minute before Arthur comes all over his own hand.

***

Arthur spends the next few hours thinking up as many horrible, disgusting chores for Merlin as he can. He finds Merlin lounging in a shaded corner of the steps in the courtyard.

"I see you're doing nothing. Again."

Merlin just shrugs. "Gaius doesn't need me right now and I already finished cleaning your armour. I didn't want to go back to your chambers just in case you were still — you know," he says making another obscene gesture.

Arthur seriously considers shoving Merlin down the steps. No one would say a word — servants have certainly been treated much worse — but he wants to see Merlin's face when he tells him he'll be cleaning out the drainpipe above Arthur's window that's full of putrid bird droppings and wet leaves rotting in the heat, and then emptying the chamber pots of everyone Arthur knows.

Before he can tell Merlin about how he's going to spend the rest of the afternoon up to his elbows in stinking filth, one of his father's pages approaches.

"My lord, the king wishes to see you."

"Fine." Arthur sighs, and climbs the steps back to the castle. Merlin follows him to the throne room.

Uther sits in his throne surrounded by his guards. Despite the heat, he is still dressed in his finest clothing made of rich, heavy material along with his ever-present leather gloves. The only indication that he is not entirely unaffected by the high temperature is the way he's slouched over just a little, a contrast to his usual perfect, erect posture.

"You wanted to see me, Father?"

"Yes, Arthur," he says, looking up from a piece of parchment. "We've received reports of a herd of wild boar in the land to the north, beyond the river. Take your men out at once and bring back as many as you can."

"The last time we received a report like this the wild boar turned out to be four pigs that had escaped from a nearby farm. I will ride out to the river to see the tracks for myself. I can be there and back within a day, and if it looks promising, I shall take a full hunting party out the very next day."

"Excellent," Uther says. "Morgana will be back from the countryside in a few days, and it would be lovely to welcome her home with a feast."

On his way out of the room, Arthur nearly runs right into Sir Leon.

"My lord," Leon says, following Arthur into the corridor, "I will accompany you tomorrow, if you wish."

Arthur swallows and tries to ignore the way his insides are suddenly squirming. "No — no, that won't be necessary."

"But sire, the roads are far too dangerous to travel alone. There are bandits, and others who would wish harm to the crown prince."

"It's just a scouting trip and will only take a few hours. And I won't be going alone," Arthur says, deciding on the spot. "Merlin will accompany me."

Leon raises his eyebrows in surprise, glancing from Arthur to Merlin and back again. "I'm sure Merlin is an adequate rider," Leon says in an obvious attempt to be diplomatic, "but the road is very difficult in places."

"Yes, I know it is," Arthur says, his voice harsher than he intends. "But Merlin is a more than adequate rider."

Leon looks sceptical. "I could come as well. It does not hurt to be extra cautious."

"I appreciate your concern for my safety, but the matter is settled. Merlin and I will ride out tomorrow," Arthur says in a voice that leaves no room for discussion.

"Yes, my lord," Leon says, tilting his head down.

Arthur turns on his heel and walks down the corridor with Merlin trailing behind him.

"Arthur…" Merlin starts.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur says, the last of his patience slipping away. "Just shut up."

And for once, Merlin does.

***

Arthur and Merlin set out on horseback early the next morning. The heat shows no sign of letting up. Even at this hour, the air is humid and carries with it the promise of another stifling day.

Merlin has to stay so focused on his horse that he seems unable keep up a steady stream of conversation and otherwise make Arthur's life difficult. Arthur finds that he rather enjoys the silence. They reach the river that cuts through the western part of the kingdom by midday and cross over where the water is shallow.

Arthur finds the animal tracks without too much difficulty. He kneels down and places his hand over the imprints on the ground, gauging the size. They're most definitely not from an escaped farm pig. They follow the tracks a short distance until Arthur is satisfied that a hunting party will be able to track the herd.

It's afternoon when they turn back to head home, the sun blazing down through the gaps in the branches overhead. When they reach the river again, they stop in the shade under a thick canopy of trees.

"We'll rest here for a bit. The horses are hot," Arthur says as he ties them to a tree with enough lead so that they're able to drink from the river.

"I'm hot," Merlin replies, gulping down water from the supply they brought with them.

Arthur peels off his gloves and runs the sleeve of his shirt across his forehead, wiping away the sweat that's running down his temples. It's hot sitting on the back of a horse all day, but he likes being out in the woods where he doesn't feel like he's sharing the same sticky air as everyone else in Camelot.

After a few minutes of silence, Merlin pulls off his boots. As Arthur watches, he rolls his breeches up to his knees and wades into the shallow water at the edge of the river. When he turns back to shore, there's a wide smile across his face.

"You should come out here, Arthur. It's really nice."

Arthur hesitates for only a few moments before kicking off his own boots and joining Merlin in the river. The water feels wonderful as it runs over his feet and calves. It would be even better to go for a proper swim, but his whole body feels a little cooler just from standing in the river. Arthur splashes the water on his face and the back of his neck, trying not to get his clothes too wet.

They're only a few hours from the castle, and with the long summer days there's plenty of sunlight left, so Arthur decides there is no reason why they can't wait until the worst of the afternoon heat has passed before continuing on.

Arthur climbs out of the river and finds a patch of ground along the embankment where he can sit without getting too muddy. The earth is soft and cool beneath him, so Arthur stretches out on his back. Merlin is still splashing around in the water, and now that he's off his horse, he's no longer quiet. Merlin's voice in the background is so familiar in its constancy, and Arthur feels incredibly relaxed lying on the ground with snatches of Merlin's chatter drifting up to him from the river.

Merlin climbs out of the water a few minutes later. Arthur's eyes are closed, but he can hear Merlin come over and flop down on his back beside Arthur. He's quiet for a moment, then he elbows Arthur in the arm. "Are you asleep?"

"Yes," Arthur says without opening his eyes.

Merlin gives an exaggerated huff. "Fine, then I suppose I'll just lie here beside you until we get eaten by bears."

Arthur opens his eyes and smirks at Merlin. "You're welcome to go on without me. If you can find the way, that is."

"Of course I know the way." Merlin rolls onto his belly and rests his chin in his hand, peering into the forest. "If I just ride that way I'll be at the castle in a few hours," he says, pointing.

Arthur laughs. "If you head in that direction you will get eaten by bears. Honestly, Merlin. It's a wonder you can dress yourself in the morning."

Merlin shrugs and rolls onto his back, grinning at Arthur. "If you wanted someone who knows his way around the woods, you should have brought Sir Leon instead of me. You two could have bonded over your shared ability to find your way home from deep in the woods while taking down a bear with your hands along the way. And then — well. The ground is rather comfortable here, isn't it?"

Arthur is too relaxed to get angry, so he just rolls his eyes. "If I threaten you with a few nights in the dungeons, will you finally shut up about that?"

"I'm just trying to help."

"You could help by not talking," Arthur mumbles.

"I don't understand why you're acting like it's such a big thing," Merlin says, ignoring Arthur. "It's just — two people, you know? It doesn't have to be anything elaborate, just a quick roll around out in the woods, or in your giant, fluffy bed, or wherever it is that crown princes do it."

It's such a ridiculous statement that Arthur can't help but laugh. "And you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing?"

Merlin turns his head on the ground and grins at Arthur. "Not in fluffy beds. But otherwise — well, there wasn't a lot to do in Ealdor."

"So it's true what they say about country boys, then?"

"I suppose it is," Merlin says with an apologetic shrug. "But I'm sure you have some fancy, royal way of doing things that I don't know about."

Arthur's smile dies on his lips. He's not sure how the conversation got to this point, but he wants it to end right now.

Merlin is oblivious to Arthur's shift in mood, and he just keeps talking. "Probably you're disgustingly brilliant at that just like you are at everything else."

Arthur's face flushes and his mouth goes completely dry.

Merlin finally notices Arthur's silence and looks over. "Arthur? What's — you have… you have done that before, haven't you?"

Arthur's flush deepens, until he can feel his skin burning all the way down his chest. He knows Merlin is staring at him, but he refuses to meet his gaze.

"Oh, well. Okay, that's — okay." Merlin sounds surprised and a little uncertain, but Arthur doesn't answer, and eventually Merlin stops talking.

They lie on their backs in silence, staring up at the branches above them. Maybe it's the way it's quiet except for the sound of the river and the birds and the trees, or maybe it's because they're so far away from the castle that it's like they're the only ones in the world, but Arthur licks his lips and turns his head to face Merlin. "So — is it — ?"

Merlin has a questioning look on his face. Arthur almost stops right there — almost forgets he ever started to ask and snaps at Merlin that they need to get going, but he wants to know and there's no one he can ask. No one, that is, except Merlin.

Merlin is watching him with a steady gaze, and for once he's not cracking jokes. Maybe he realises how much this is costing Arthur, but it gives Arthur the push he needs to finally verbalise the questions that have been niggling at the back of his mind for years.

"Have you — you know. With a girl?"

"Yes."

"Was it — how was it?"

Merlin shrugs. "Well, girls are really soft and most of the time they smell nice, but it's sort of — confusing. I'm still not sure I understand how everything works," he says with an embarrassed chuckle, looking up at the trees. "And I never could tell if they, you know, really enjoyed themselves in the end."

Arthur swallows hard and tries to pretend Merlin can't see that he's red all the way to the roots of his hair. When he speaks again his voice is so low he's not sure Merlin can hear. "And with — with other…"

Merlin turns back and meets Arthur's gaze. His smile is gone and he blinks heavily a few times. "Other boys? Yeah."

"Is it — nice?"

Merlin lets out a breathy laugh, more air than sound. "Oh, yes. It's — yeah, very nice."

Arthur's brain can't seem to get past half-formed questions like how do you — ? and what does it — ? and can you — ? and maybe Merlin knows, because he continues on his own.

"It's different with other boys. I know how to — I know my way around. And at the end I'm not left wondering whether or not they liked it because — well, you know."

"Yeah," is all Arthur can manage to croak out, his mouth still too dry for anything else.

Merlin sounds different — his voice is pitched deeper, and he's speaking more slowly than he usually does. "It's nice to have someone else's hands and mouth, and another — " Merlin's eyelids flutter closed for a moment, and when they open again, they're dark and hooded. "It just feels really good."

Arthur's chest tightens, making it hard to breathe, so he jumps to his feet and walks toward the horses, his back to Merlin.

"It's time to leave," he calls over his shoulder a moment later.

There's an awkward, uncomfortable silence between them while they ready the horses.

"Merlin," Arthur says just as they are about to mount, "You can't — you must never say anything."

Merlin's face is dark and shrouded. "I know how to keep a secret."

Arthur just nods. Despite all of Merlin's maddening traits, in this moment Arthur believes him.

The ride home is silent, and rather than relish it as he did earlier, Arthur wishes for mindless conversation to distract him from his whirling thoughts. By the time they reach the castle, the sun is low in the sky and the harsh heat of the day has mellowed into a pleasant evening.

When they get to the stables, Arthur hands his horse over to Merlin.

"Take care of the horses and then go back to my chambers and pack my hunting supplies. When you've finished with that, get rations from the kitchen, enough for six men for four days. We'll gather here at dawn, so have two horses ready."

"I'm coming?"

"Yes, Merlin, you're coming. Now I suggest you stop talking and start working. We leave early and it will be a long day."

"Yes, Arthur."

Arthur waits for Merlin to say something else — perhaps something horribly inappropriate about spending several days in the woods with some of his knights — but Merlin just watches him with an unreadable expression on his face. After a moment, Arthur turns on his heel and walks off to inform his father about the hunting trip.

***

The next morning, Arthur awakes before dawn. It's quiet as he moves through the dark courtyard and across the grass, most everyone still asleep at this early hour.

When he approaches the stables, he's surprised to see the glow of a torch from inside. Arthur steps through the entrance and finds Leon standing in one of the stalls with Arthur's horse. As he watches, Leon strokes one hand down the horse's flank and speaks soothing words that Arthur can't make out.

Arthur fights the impulse to back away and forces himself to step forward instead.

Leon looks up. "My lord," he says, one hand still on the horse. "I did not expect to see you here this early."

"Yes, well, I wanted to make sure everything was in order before we leave."

"Of course. I was just checking up on all of the horses," Leon says, giving the horse an affectionate pat on the neck. "I want to make sure they are all in good health before we set out on the hunt."

Arthur knows Leon has a way with horses. He's seen more than one skittish horse calm at Leon's expert touch, and on long journeys, Leon is the one making sure that the horses have been properly fed and watered. It's not surprising to Arthur that Leon would take the time to check the horses before a long trip like this.

Leon gives Arthur's horse one last pat before stepping out the stall toward where Arthur is standing.

Before Arthur can respond, he hears a noise behind him. When he turns, he sees Merlin walk through the entrance to the stables. Merlin's gaze moves from Arthur to Leon and back again and his face lights up in a wide grin.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to — I'll just go…"

Arthur crosses the distance to where Merlin stands in long strides and pulls him out the door by the sleeve of his shirt. "I do not have time for any of your nonsense right now," he says pointing his finger in Merlin's face in warning. "Now get in there and saddle up the horses. We're leaving as soon as there is a bit more light in the sky."

Not long after, the rest of the men gather in the stables, and when the sun peeks up over the horizon, sending pink streaks across the sky, they ride out of the town into the woods.

When they reach the river at midday, they stop to water the horses. Arthur's shirt is soaked through with sweat and his feet are swelling up from the heat. He hands the reins of his horse over to Merlin and sits down on a fallen tree to adjust the buckles on his boots.

They're at almost the exact place where Arthur and Merlin had stopped the previous day to wade in the river. From where he's sitting, Arthur can see the very stretch of ground where he had lain beside Merlin, talking and looking up at the trees. Arthur feels a hot rush of embarrassment at the memory of admitting the secret he's kept closely guarded for so many years.

His gaze comes to rest on Sir Leon, who is going from horse to horse, checking the straps of the saddles. Arthur's stomach lurches in a not entirely unpleasant way as he watches Leon's hands move. This has to be all Merlin's fault — he's the one who put the idea in Arthur's head in the first place, but now that it's there, Arthur can't forget about it.

Just then Merlin appears out of nowhere and plops himself down on the log beside Arthur, kicking his legs out in front of him. It snaps Arthur back to attention and he pulls his gaze away from Leon to glare at Merlin.

"Don't make yourself too comfortable. We're leaving shortly."

"I just wanted to tell you that I think this trip might not be the right time for — you know." Merlin raises his eyebrows and tilts his head toward where Leon is now leading one of the horses to the river. "It's just that you've been on a horse all day and you know how you always get so sweaty."

"Merlin," Arthur starts, working hard to keep his voice level, "It's not the right time and it's never going to be the right time because there isn't anything there needs to be a time for. Now if you don't shut up about this, I swear I will tie you to a tree and leave you here so the bears can eat you."

Arthur gets to his feet and walks back toward the group without looking back.

Once on the other side of the river, they turn north, following the tracks until the sun sinks low in the sky and they have to stop and set up camp for the night. They start again early the next morning, but the day seems to be as unsuccessful as the one before it, and by late afternoon, Arthur is starting to get frustrated.

They ride until the ground becomes so rocky that the trail disappears. Arthur leads the men to a wide clearing just beyond the rocky stretch of ground where he dismounts and addresses the men.

"We'll set up camp here and use the remaining daylight to look for the trail again. Once the supplies are organised, split up and search for any sign of the tracks."

After the horses are unloaded, Arthur orders Leon to stay to guard the camp while the others fan out to search the surrounding area. Arthur turns to where Merlin is sitting slumped on the ground.

"You're coming with me, Merlin."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay here and help guard the camp?" Merlin asks, eyeing Arthur's crossbow.

Arthur raises an eyebrow. "I think Sir Leon can handle it without you. Now let's go," he says, handing Merlin a spear. "And watch where you point that."

They head beyond the clearing into the trees, travelling north along the river. Arthur keeps his eyes fixed on the ground in search of tracks as they move. He pauses when he comes to a clump of trees and kneels down to inspect the roots and bark.

Merlin doesn't stop and walks a few paces beyond where Arthur is crouched on the ground. He's keeping up his usual steady stream of conversation yet again, but Arthur is too busy checking the trees for any signs of rooting to pay much attention to what Merlin is saying. Arthur finds no trace of anything, so he stands up and brushes off his hands, frustrated at the way the day is going.

A slight movement in the corner of his eye catches Arthur's attention and he freezes, scanning the trees. As his eyes focus on the spaces between the branches, Arthur sees a deer, almost fully camouflaged by the thick foliage. It's not yet fully-grown, but large enough to provide the men with a meal for the night.

Keeping his gaze fixed on the deer, Arthur sets his crossbow. As he raises his weapon, he realises he can still hear Merlin talking, completely oblivious to what Arthur is doing.

Arthur knows that if he takes his eyes off the deer he'll lose his chance, so he stays where he is and hopes that Merlin won't make too much noise in the short time he needs to line up the shot. A moment later it's too late. A branch snaps under Merlin's foot and the deer turns and runs deep into the trees without a sound.

"Merlin," Arthur growls, still frozen to the spot.

"Yeah?" Merlin asks, finally turning around. "What are you doing with that?" he asks, pointing at Arthur's crossbow.

Arthur lowers the crossbow and rubs his eyes. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Merlin's eyes widen and he raises his spear with unsteady hands. "Did you see a boar?" he asks, looking out into the trees.

Arthur's frustration at the unsuccessful day catches up with him and he snaps. "No, I did not see a boar," he shouts, "And I don't think we ever will as long as you keep tromping through the forest like this, making enough noise to alert all living creatures."

For once, Merlin has the decency to look contrite. "Sorry."

Arthur wipes the sweat off his forehead and leans against a tree. "There was a deer, and if you hadn't been so noisy it could have been our supper. Now we will just have to eat dried meat and old bread."

"Maybe not," Merlin says, gesturing with his spear. "Maybe I'll catch a deer myself."

The notion of Merlin as a hunter is so absurd that Arthur laughs. "Now that would be something. Deer are very easily startled. I don't think it's possible for you to keep quiet enough to kill one." Arthur pulls the skin of water off his belt and takes a drink before offering it to Merlin. "I just don't understand it. You grew up in the country, surrounded by the wilderness. How is it that you are so terrible at this?"

Merlin takes the skin from Arthur and shrugs. "I didn't spend a lot of time off on hunts using fancy weapons."

"Of course, how could I forget? You were too busy sneaking around with your hand down your mates' breeches."

Merlin looks surprised for a moment, but then his lips curl up into a grin. "Well, that I'm good at."

Arthur lets out a humourless chuckle. "Oh, really?"

Merlin's smile is smug, and there's not a trace of doubt on his face. "Yeah, I really am."

Arthur means to say something disparaging about Merlin's competency, but Merlin looks so sure of himself, and it occurs to Arthur that he has seen Merlin's hands at work, confident and skilled with Arthur's armour. Arthur's throat tightens and his skin feels too hot all of the sudden. Merlin is looking at him with a curious expression on his face; his smile slowly fades and there's something Arthur doesn't recognise in his eyes. After a long moment, Arthur pulls his gaze away and looks up at the sky where the sun is hanging low near the horizon.

"We need to turn back. It's nearly sunset."

Merlin doesn't say a word all the way back to camp.

None of the other men had any more success than Arthur at finding the trail. Arthur is exhausted and sticky with sweat, and he wants nothing more than for the day to be over so they can start afresh in the morning. After they bed down for the night, Arthur shifts on his bedroll. He likes sleeping outdoors, and the night air is pleasant and comfortable, but it's still a long time before he falls asleep.

Arthur wakes to a sound he doesn't recognise. He's disoriented at first, but when he sees the sky above him, just starting to lighten, it all comes back to him. He hears the sound again — a loud rustling in the trees, and it takes his sleep-addled brain a few moments to put it together.

Arthur jumps up off the ground and scans the clearing. The other men are starting to climb out of their bedrolls and Arthur shouts for them to go for the weapons. Leon reaches the spears first, and he tosses one to each of them. Just as Arthur has a firm grip on his spear, four boars break through the tree line into the clearing running toward them.

Arthur's men hold steady as the boars race closer, waiting for the right moment. Arthur stands poised and ready, but he's not in optimal position to take aim, so he grips his spear, trusting his men. A moment later, four spears fly through the air with deadly precision, taking down the boars one after the other. It's over in a matter of seconds, and the animals lie dead on the ground with Arthur's spear still in his hands.

Arthur is just about to congratulate the men when he hears rustling in the trees behind him, and he spins around to see another boar enter the clearing from the opposite direction. The animal is running forward, heading right toward where Merlin is standing unarmed, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Arthur doesn't panic. There isn't time to panic.

"Merlin, get down!" he shouts, and for once in his life Merlin listens without question and drops to the ground.

Arthur takes only the moment necessary to aim, tracking the speed of the animal, and then throws his spear with all of his strength.

The boar falls to the ground with a thud, Arthur's spear sticking out of its side.

There is silence in the clearing as the men scan the tree line, listening for any sound. Once it's clear the danger has passed, they move into action, collecting their spears and examining the dead boars.

Arthur sucks in the breath he was holding as everything he couldn't allow himself to feel hits him all at once. He walks over to where Merlin is still lying face down on the ground, frozen in place.

"Merlin," Arthur says, his voice shaky. "It's okay, you can get up."

Merlin rolls over onto his back and looks up at Arthur, his eyes wide with shock. "I didn't see it coming. I should have done something."

Arthur's heart is still racing from the adrenaline rush, but he smiles a little at the absurdity of Merlin stopping a fully-grown boar without a weapon. "What could you have done? You didn't even have a spear."

"Right," Merlin says with a breathless laugh.

Merlin sits up and looks over at the dead boar. He looks even paler than usual, so Arthur crouches down beside him.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I — I'm fine," he says, running one hand through his hair which is still sticking up in every direction from sleep. He takes a deep breath and looks at Arthur with wide unblinking eyes, looking so much more serious than Arthur usually sees him. "Thanks."

***

The king himself greets the hunting party upon their arrival back in Camelot. It's late afternoon — too late to prepare a proper feast on such short notice, but Uther claps Arthur on the back and declares that tomorrow the kitchens will prepare the finest food they have to offer to celebrate Arthur and his men.

Back in his chambers, Arthur trades his shirt for a clean one. After he's dry, Arthur unpacks his bags, inspecting all of his gear. His knives all need to be cleaned and sharpened so he sets them aside for Merlin.

An hour later, Merlin comes in carrying Arthur's supper. Arthur can see small wisps of steam coming off the platter from where he stands. He walks over to take a closer look, and sure enough, the chicken is still hot. Arthur looks up from the plate in surprise. "Hot food," he says, picking up a chicken leg. "All this time I thought it was impossible for you to get here before my food turned cold." Arthur sits down and begins to eat.

Merlin shrugs. "I just walked really fast."

"If this is a result of me saving your life, remind me to do that more often," Arthur says, through a mouthful. "Although I have grown quite accustomed to cold chicken."

Merlin is unusually quiet and when Arthur looks up, he sees Merlin watching him from across the room as he fiddles with one of Arthur's knives.

"Is there something you need or are you going to clean my knives?"

"On my way here from the kitchens I ran into Sir Leon. He was heading out to the stables. He said he wanted to make sure all of the horses were okay after the trip."

Arthur swallows his mouthful of food. "What are you getting at, Merlin?"

Merlin digs the point of the knife into the table. "He's probably still there," he says without looking up. "You know how he is with the horses. If you go now I bet you could catch him."

"What makes you think I — "

Merlin rolls his eyes. "Arthur, please."

"And you think I should just — go down there?"

Merlin looks up. He's chewing his bottom lip and gazing at Arthur with a thoughtful expression on his face. "I think that if this is what you really want, then you should go."

Maybe it's because this is the first time Merlin has tried to encourage Arthur without ridiculous hand gestures and a knowing smirk, but Arthur doesn't immediately dismiss the idea. After a few moments of consideration, Arthur puts his chicken leg down on the plate and pushes his chair back from the table. When he reaches the door, he looks back, but Merlin is hunched over, hard at work cleaning Arthur's knives. Without a word, Arthur walks out of the room.

Outside the sun is just beginning to set. As Arthur crosses the courtyard, he sees Gwen coming from the other direction.

"My lord," she greets him.

"Guinevere," he replies. "I didn't realise you were back."

"Yes, we arrived just this morning. We had a wonderful time, but I think Morgana started to miss some of the conveniences of home."

Arthur laughs. "You mean her clothes, right? If I know Morgana, she got bored without her extensive collection of dresses at her fingertips."

Gwen smiles and ducks her head. "She might have said something about that."

"In any case, it's perfect timing, because now Morgana can celebrate her return by picking her favourite dress to wear to the feast tomorrow night."

Gwen lifts the basket she's carrying which Arthur can see is filled with sewing supplies. "I am on my way to assist her with that very decision right now. Speaking of which, I hear we have you to thank for the feast in the first place."

Arthur feels a surge of pride, but just nods modestly. "The hunt was very fruitful."

"I saw Merlin in the kitchens earlier. He said you saved him from the biggest boar he's ever seen."

Arthur chuckles. "Merlin is prone to exaggeration."

"He said you were incredible," Gwen says, tilting her head to the side.

Arthur's smile fades and he furrows his brow. "Merlin said that?"

"Yes, he did."

Arthur takes a moment to turn it over in his head. He's never really thought about the kinds of things Merlin might say about him to his friends when Arthur can't hear, and he's surprised by Gwen's words.

"I should not keep you any longer," Gwen says after a moment.

"Yes, goodnight Guinevere," Arthur says as she walks away.

Arthur crosses his arms over his chest where he stands in the courtyard and looks across the field to the stables. He can see the glow of a torch coming from inside. After a long moment, he turns and walks back into the castle.

When Arthur gets to his chambers, Merlin is gone and the knives are lined up neatly on the table, cleaned and sharpened. Arthur sits down and eats his cold chicken alone.

***

Spirits are high in the Great Hall when the feast begins. Uther calls a toast to Arthur and his men for a successful hunt, and everyone in the room raises their glass and cheers in approval. The cooks have been at work all day, and the castle servants carry in trays of roasted boar and all of the other finest foods Camelot has to offer.

Arthur lets himself get caught up in the festive mood, the stress of the past few days tucked far away in the back of his mind. There is delicious food, plenty of wine, and the satisfaction of success.

"How does it feel to be the hero of the night?" Morgana asks from where she's seated beside him.

"About the same as it always does," Arthur says with a grin as he takes a sip of wine.

Morgana rolls her eyes. "Modest as always. Are you sure you didn't just let your men do all the work so you could take the glory?"

"I'll have you know that I was responsible for taking down the largest boar myself."

"Of course you were," she says, patting his arm patronisingly.

"Morgana, you've been gone for over a fortnight. Do you really want to spend the first meal we've shared in all that time mocking me?"

"Yes, Arthur, I've been gone over a fortnight and you've yet to ask me about my trip."

"Fine," Arthur says, setting down his fork and turning to face her. "You have my complete attention. How was your trip?"

"Why Arthur, how very thoughtful of you to ask," Morgana says with mock surprise, but then she smiles and Arthur can see it reaches her all the way to her eyes. "It was lovely. I'd forgotten how much easier it is to breathe in the country, even if it is just as hot. I think I could get used to that sort of life."

"Until you could no longer survive without your extensive collection of dresses, that is."

Morgana narrows her eyes. "Did you talk to Gwen?"

"Morgana, I have known you since you were a girl. You may try to act tough, but all anyone really needs to do is take away your wardrobe and you'll beg for mercy."

Morgana makes a face, and for a moment Arthur thinks she's going to stick her tongue out at him like they're eleven years old again, but she just shakes her head and turns back to her food.

Later, after Merlin has filled Arthur's goblet for the third time and Morgana has matched him cup for cup, she turns to him with a sly grin. "There's something else I've been meaning to ask you. Have you been keeping secrets from me?"

There's no way Morgana could know, but Arthur feels his face heat up anyway. "I don't know what secrets you mean."

"You're supposed to tell me if you fancy someone, but if you won't, then I shall just have to guess." Morgana arches one eyebrow and tilts her head to the adjacent table where Leon is sitting with the other knights.

Arthur clenches his hands into fists on the table and takes a deep breath. "I strongly suggest you stop guessing and don't bring it up again," he chokes out.

Morgana's smile fades into a look of concern when she sees Arthur's expression. "Arthur, I shouldn't have said anything. I just thought — "

"Well, you thought wrong."

Morgana falls silent, and Arthur doesn't encourage further conversation. His lively mood from the beginning of the feast is gone, and he waits on edge, anger building in the pit of his stomach, until his father calls and end to the night's festivities. He tries to push through the crowd, but everyone is moving slowly, full of good food, plenty of wine, and festive spirit. When he gets to the back of the hall, he finds Merlin, laughing and talking with the other servants. Merlin's back is to him, and when Arthur calls his name, he spins around, the smile dying on his lips when he sees Arthur's face.

"Come with me," Arthur says, seething with barely contained rage.

Arthur leads Merlin into a narrow passageway off the main corridor and practically pushes him against the wall. It's a little used space, but there's a small candle burning that provides enough light for Arthur to see the terrified expression on Merlin's face.

Merlin gapes at him. "Arthur, what — "

"How dare you. How dare you," Arthur hisses.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Merlin says, his eyes wide with shock.

Arthur is in no mood for playing games right now. "I had a little chat with Morgana just now. She wanted to know if there was anything going on with — " Arthur feels a fresh wave of humiliation wash over him when he tries to say it. "With me and…"

Arthur sees the moment Merlin understands. "I didn't tell her! I would never — Arthur, I would never."

"You swore you wouldn't say anything. You swore to me," Arthur shouts, his voice ringing loud in the tiny space.

"I know what it's like to have to keep a secret," Merlin says looking pained. He takes a deep breath and rubs his hand over his face. "I mean, I know what it's like to have that secret."

Arthur deflates a little, recalling Merlin's own admission about his preferences. Some of his rage dissipates, and he's left feeling defeated more than anything else. He slumps back against the wall behind him and slides down until he's sitting on the cold stone floor. "Then how did she know?" he asks, feeling miserable.

Merlin shrugs and sits down on the floor leaning on the wall opposite Arthur. "Maybe she figured it out for herself."

That sends a fresh wave of embarrassment through Arthur. "Does everyone know?"

Merlin gives him a little smile. "I didn't think anybody knew. But Morgana has known you since you were a child. She understands you better than almost anyone. Plus, she's a girl, and they always seem to know about this stuff."

"You knew."

Merlin's smile widens and Arthur sees a hint of his usual cheek. "I did have access to some other clues."

Arthur blushes when he realises what Merlin is talking about. "That's not funny."

"Sorry," Merlin says, trying unsuccessfully to keep himself from smiling.

Arthur should be angry at that, but the whole thing is so absurd — hiding in an empty passageway, sitting on the floor with Merlin and having this conversation — that all he can do is laugh. It sounds harsh and humourless in his ears, but it lessens the tightness in his chest and makes him feel a little lighter. When Arthur stops laughing, he looks up and sees Merlin watching him with an earnest expression.

"But it was more than that," Merlin says. "I just — I know you, Arthur. Better than a lot of people."

"I suppose you do."

Merlin is watching him with no trace of a smile left on his face. When he leans forward, the light from candle makes his eyes shine and throws his features into sharp relief. Arthur closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the wall behind him, taking a deep hitching breath.

They're both quiet for a long time, and when Arthur opens his eyes, Merlin is still watching him. Arthur's breath is still stuck in his chest and so he stands up, anxious to put an end to this night. He brushes off the seat of his breeches and starts to leave, turning back just before he steps back into the main passageway. Merlin looks up at him from the floor.

"I believe you," Arthur says.

Merlin nods, but from this angle his face is caught in the shadows and Arthur can't read the expression on his face. "Goodnight, Arthur."

Arthur turns and walks away without another word.

***

The next morning Arthur waits in his chambers, but Merlin never arrives. There's no training scheduled, so Arthur doesn't need Merlin's assistance getting into his armour, but Merlin is supposed to come to work every day.

The door to Gaius' quarters is open, and Arthur finds Gaius at the worktable studying the pages of a book, surrounded by half empty bottles and piles of dried herbs.

"Arthur," Gaius says, looking up and taking off his glasses. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for Merlin," glancing around with a frown.

"I'm afraid he's not here, sire. He's been outside all morning collecting herbs. I assumed he didn't have to work today because he volunteered to help me."

Arthur raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Merlin offered to help on his own?"

Gaius chuckles. "Yes, I thought it was a bit strange myself, but I'm running low on the tonic for heat sickness and his assistance is much appreciated. Would you like me to go and fetch him for you?"

"No, that won't be necessary. I'll find him myself."

Arthur heads out in the direction of the open fields beyond the stables. He finds Merlin kneeling on the ground in a patch of bright green plants with a basket at his side. As Arthur approaches, Merlin looks up, shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand.

"You didn't show up for work this morning," Arthur says by way of greeting.

"Have you come to sack me then?" Merlin asks as he pokes at the ground around the plants.

Under normal circumstances, Arthur would find some way to criticise Merlin's abilities as a servant, at which point Merlin would likely reply with something completely inappropriate, but Arthur doesn't feel much like getting into it, so instead he sits down on the ground. "Not today."

"Gaius needed my help."

"He told me you offered on your own."

Merlin shrugs. "It's not good for someone his age to be out in the sun, and we'd all be in trouble if something happened to him."

"So that's why you didn't come this morning? Because of Gaius?"

Merlin looks down and resumes picking bunches of leaves and dropping them into the basket. "Yeah," he says softly.

Merlin looks back up at him, and for a moment Arthur feels like they're right on the edge of something else, but then Merlin flashes one of his customary grins and everything shifts back to normal.

Arthur picks up one of the plants from Merlin's basket and twirls the stem between his fingers. "It's mint," he says, recognising the smell.

Merlin nods and crushes a bunch of leaves between his fingers in front of his nose before inhaling deeply. "Gaius says it has cooling properties, but it's not helping much out here in the sun. I'm still just as hot."

"Everyone is hot, Merlin."

Merlin brushes off his hands and sits back on his heels. "It's worse for me than it is for you."

"How is that, exactly?"

"Because of my hair," Merlin says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"What does your hair have to do with anything?"

"Do you know how the sun always feels hotter when you're wearing dark coloured clothing? Well, my hair is a lot darker than yours, so that means I get a lot hotter in the sun than you do."

It's such a silly thing to say but not at all surprising coming from Merlin, and Arthur huffs out a laugh. "It doesn't work that way with hair."

"It does," Merlin insists.

Arthur smirks and tosses the sprig of mint onto the ground. "As my hair will always be lighter than yours, I guess we'll never know if you're right."

Merlin frowns for a moment as if deep in thought, then his expression brightens and he sits up on his knees. "Put your hand in your hair."

Arthur rolls his eyes but reaches up and touches his hair with one hand. Merlin shuffles forward on his knees until he's right in front of Arthur.

"Now touch mine," Merlin says, leaning in toward Arthur.

Arthur freezes for a moment, then raises his other hand and hesitantly touches the tips of his fingers to Merlin's hair. It's thicker than his own and a bit coarser, but softer than he expected, and he tentatively pushes his hand forward, threading his fingers through the strands. Arthur's other hand drops forgotten from his own hair and he braces himself on the ground so he can get even closer. Arthur can feel his heart pounding in his chest but he keeps going until his thumb comes to rest on Merlin's temple. Merlin's eyes are locked on his, and when he strokes his thumb down the hairline, skidding on sweat-damp skin, Merlin's eyelids flutter and he turns his face into Arthur's hand.

Arthur can scarcely breathe, but he leans forward until he is close enough to see the fine sheen of sweat beading on Merlin's upper lip, and only when he finds himself lifting his free hand to reach out and touch, does Arthur regain his senses. He yanks his hand out of Merlin's hair and scrambles to his feet, putting some space between them. Arthur's skin is thrumming and he feels even hotter than he did just moments before. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, but not something he expects with Merlin so close, and that only makes his pulse race faster. Merlin sits back on his heels with hands clenched in fists resting on his thighs. His chest is heaving as if he's out of breath and he's watching Arthur with a dazed expression on his face.

"I can't — I have to…" Arthur backs a few paces away, still looking at Merlin on the ground.

"Arthur, wait," Merlin says, but Arthur ignores him and walks back toward the castle with his head reeling.

***

That evening Arthur is sitting at his table reading through the reports from the border patrols when Merlin comes through the door with his meal. Arthur looks up, then back down at the parchment in front of him, trying to ignore the way his face gets hot and flushed at the sight of Merlin.

Merlin doesn't say a word as he crosses the room, but his stride falters as he approaches. Arthur looks up as Merlin takes the last few steps toward him and sets the tray of food on the table. Merlin is close enough that Arthur can feel the heat of his body along his side. He smells like peppermint and sunshine and he's staring down at Arthur with a steady gaze. He opens his mouth as if he's about to say something but Arthur cuts him off.

"Tomorrow," Arthur chokes out.

Merlin blinks in confusion. "What?"

Arthur swallows hard and tries again. "Tomorrow I have to go check on one of the crop fields. Have two horses ready in the morning."

It's the first time Arthur has asked Merlin to come with him for this particular task, but if Merlin is surprised, he doesn't show it. Instead he just nods, still leaning on the table, looking down at Arthur. The air between them is charged and heavy, and Arthur takes a moment to think about how Merlin's body is close enough to touch before tearing his gaze away.

"I — I have to finish going through this," Arthur says, motioning to the stack of parchment in front of him.

Merlin nods and takes a few unsteady steps back away from the table. "Right. Tomorrow, then."

After Merlin leaves, Arthur shuffles the stack of parchment in front of him trying to find the place where he left off, but eventually he gives up and pushes them away. He looks over at his supper but finds he's not hungry. Deciding the evening is pretty much a waste, Arthur crawls into bed early hoping that sleep will bring relief from the jumble of thoughts in his head.

***

In the morning, Arthur finds Merlin waiting with the horses. They ride out on the main road leading out of Camelot, but when they reach the woods, they head in the opposite direction they followed for the hunt.

After an hour of riding in silence, Arthur bypasses the trail that leads directly to the crop field and instead moves deeper into the woods. He hasn't been out in this direction for a few years, but he finds the spot he's looking for without any trouble at all.

As soon as the river comes into sight, Arthur knows this is the right place. The trees here are close together, and the branches hang low over the river, crisscrossing from both sides and creating a canopy of leaves. At the edge of the tree line, the ground slopes gently down, opening up into a long flat area at the edge of the water. The river is wide but the current here is slow, and the sound of it bubbling along eclipses all the other noises of the forest making the whole area feel like a secret place hiding in the middle of the wood.

Merlin dismounts and looks around in confusion. "This isn't a crop field."

"The field is south of here," Arthur says, pointing downstream. "Just beyond that break in the trees."

"Why did we stop here?"

"It's a hot day, Merlin. You know what Gaius is always saying about the importance of staying cool. We can afford to take a short break."

Merlin is looking at him curiously, as though expecting more of an explanation. Arthur almost says something else, but then Merlin tugs the hem of his shirt up and Arthur's breath catches in his throat.

"I'll just — tie up the horses." Arthur spins around and leads the horses up the small hill where he secures them to a tree. When he turns back, Merlin is waist deep in the river, facing the opposite shore. Arthur's stomach lurches when he catches sight of Merlin's clothes in a messy heap on the ground.

Before he can change his mind, Arthur strips out of his clothes and wades into the water. He is hot from the ride, but he still shivers a little when he moves deeper and the water hits his thighs. Merlin doesn't turn until Arthur has nearly reached the place where he stands.

Merlin gives an apologetic shrug when Arthur approaches. "I couldn't resist. This feels so much better than just putting my feet in."

"Yes, it does," Arthur says truthfully, splashing the cool water onto his neck.

Merlin ducks underneath the surface of the water for a moment. When he comes back up, his hair is plastered in messy clumps to his head, dripping onto his neck. Arthur follows the path the water makes as it runs down Merlin's chest and then lower onto his belly until it hits the surface. Arthur drags his gaze back up, lingering on all of the pale skin that's right there within reach, and finds Merlin watching him.

Arthur tries to take a breath, but he feels like there's no air left in the space between them. Merlin's gaze doesn't waver, and Arthur can't seem to look away, so before he does something reckless, Arthur drops down under the surface. The cool water is a welcome relief, and he stays underwater in the muffled silence until he needs to come up for air. When he resurfaces, Merlin is standing with his head tilted back, looking up at the trees above them.

"I like this place," Merlin says as he turns around and scans the area. "It seems like a perfect spot to go swimming."

"If you swim out to that rock," Arthur says, pointing to a large boulder with a flat top rising out of the water in the centre of the river, "you can dive off the side. It's deep enough out there."

Merlin looks confused for a moment, but then his eyes light up in understanding. "You've been here before."

Arthur nods and wipes away the water as it drips into his eyes. "This was my favourite place to swim when I was a boy."

Merlin appears to consider this for a moment as he gazes out at the rock, and then he turns back to Arthur with a determined look on his face. Arthur can't see Merlin's legs clearly under the moving water, but he must be walking toward him because suddenly he's much closer.

"Why did we come here?"

Merlin is close enough that Arthur can see the water as it drips from the hair clinging to his forehead. Arthur tries to focus on what Merlin is saying but he can't keep his eyes off the way the droplets run down the side of Merlin's face onto his neck.

"I — I told you. The crop field."

"But why did we stop here?" Merlin asks, "Why this place?"

"You said you were hot — because of your hair. I just thought…" Arthur trails off as Merlin moves even closer.

"Arthur," Merlin breathes, stretching his hands out across the remaining space between them. "Come here."

Arthur doesn't take orders from Merlin, but instead of reminding him that he doesn't get to make such demands, Arthur just goes into Merlin's outstretched arms. Merlin's hands wrap around his waist and he presses their foreheads together. Arthur can feel Merlin's breath hot against his mouth, and when Merlin's hands skim up his back and curl in the hair on his nape, Arthur closes his eyes against the rush of sensation.

Arthur brings his hands up and rests them on Merlin's hips, just below the surface of the water and tugs him closer. Arthur's head is spinning; he's giddy with desire and the thrill of having Merlin's hands on him, and all he wants is more. With a shaky breath, he tilts his head and presses his lips against Merlin's.

The kiss is chaste and close lipped, just a soft brush of their mouths together really, but then Merlin tilts his head just so and licks at Arthur's mouth, and Arthur stops thinking altogether. Merlin's tongue is hot and slick, and Arthur lets his jaw fall open to try to get as much of it as he can. When Arthur bites gently on Merlin's lower lip, Merlin surges forward, nearly toppling them both over into the water. Arthur can feel Merlin's cock pressing against his thigh, just as hard as his own, and he digs his fingers into Merlin's hips, trying to pull him even closer.

"Wait," Merlin gasps, tearing his mouth away. "We have to — "

Arthur makes a frustrated noise and pulls him back in, pressing a kiss to the corner of Merlin's lips before sliding his mouth down toward the inviting skin of Merlin's neck. He almost gets there, but Merlin breaks free of Arthur's hold and leads him by the hand toward the embankment. At the edge of the river, they fall onto the nearest patch of soft earth. They lay on their sides for a moment, both of them breathless with anticipation, but as soon as Arthur reaches out, Merlin rolls onto his back, pulling Arthur over top.

Arthur looks down at Merlin, bracing his hands on either side of his head. "I — I don't…"

Merlin brings his hands up to Arthur's neck and tugs him down. "It's okay," he whispers against Arthur's mouth and kisses him, soft and sweet.

Despite the reassurance, Arthur feels a wave of panic wash over him, but when Merlin opens his thighs so Arthur can slot into place between them, it doesn't seem to matter anymore. Arthur rocks his hips forward, tentative at first, and when their cocks brush together for the first time, he's unable to suppress a moan. Arthur's shaky rhythm falters at that — it's almost too much all at once — but then Merlin is there with hands on his hips to guide him, arching up to meet each thrust.

Arthur drops to his elbows on the ground and buries his face in Merlin's neck as he moves. Merlin feels so hot even after being in the cold water, and Arthur licks the damp skin just below his jaw. Beneath the clean taste of the river is something heady and familiar, and his hips stutter as he breathes Merlin in.

Arthur has never had his mouth all over Merlin before, but now that he's here, he finds that he already knows the smell of this skin from all the times Merlin has strapped Arthur into his armour or leaned in close to adjust his collar. It's the same but different; this close the scent is deeper and more intense, and Arthur's hips speed up as he sucks wet open-mouthed kisses along Merlin's neck.

The smell may be familiar, but the feel of Merlin's body writhing under Arthur's is all new and Arthur tries to touch as much as he can reach. It's hard with them pressed so close, so he settles for tangling one hand in Merlin's wet hair while he rubs the other up and down Merlin's thigh where it's wrapped around Arthur's hip. The water from the river mingles with the sweat that breaks out all over their skin as they slide together, damp and sticky in the heat.

It's easy for Arthur to find a rhythm that feels right when Merlin hooks his leg higher up Arthur's back and moans encouragingly in his ear. The feel of Merlin's body under his as they rock together is so much better than Arthur would have expected, and he wants to tell Merlin that — tell him that he wants to do this again and again, but the words get caught up in his throat. Arthur kisses him instead, licking into his mouth with no finesse, just a messy slide of tongues and lips, until they are both gasping for air as they move together.

When Arthur pulls away, Merlin pushes on his shoulder urging him up. For one terrible moment Arthur thinks Merlin wants to stop, but then Merlin whispers, "Watch," and tilts his chin down.

Arthur looks down in the space between them and almost loses all of his remaining composure when he sees their cocks sliding together with every roll of his hips. He needs to feel Merlin hard under his fingers, so he fits a hand between them and wraps it around Merlin's cock, stroking as best he can in the tight space. It's hot and slick in his hand, and Arthur jerks him with a tight fist squeezing a little on the upstroke. When he rubs a thumb along the soft skin just under the ridge, Merlin groans and drops his head back on the ground. Arthur loves the feel of Merlin's cock in his fist, but can't resist all that pale skin, so he releases him and leans in to kiss his neck.

Merlin reaches between them to take over where Arthur left off, only he spreads his fingers wide enough to wrap around them both, stroking in time with Arthur's thrusts. Arthur feels hot and tight all over like he's going to fly apart at any moment, so he buries his whole face in Merlin's neck, digs his knees into the dirt and snaps his hips faster. Merlin's leg slips from Arthur's back and his thighs fall wide open allowing Arthur to get even closer. Merlin is making these incredible noises — soft, delicious grunts that go right to Arthur's cock — and he just holds on as he thrusts over and over, all sense of rhythm gone.

Merlin slides his free hand down Arthur's back to rest on the swell of his buttocks, squeezing with every thrust. Arthur's riding the edge, so close to tipping over, and when Merlin moves his hand lower and teases the tips of his fingers along the cleft, he knows he's done for. The heat that has been building low in his belly spreads like fire through the rest of him, racing up his spine and burning hot and bright in his head. Arthur's whole body tenses up and it feels like the air is sucked right out of his lungs; he knows he's going to come hard, and he can't do anything but grind down desperately and wait for it.

"C'mon, Arthur," Merlin murmurs, his thumb swiping over the head of Arthur's cock while the other hand pulls him closer. "Let me feel you."

Arthur can't hold out any longer and his hips jerk helplessly as he comes with a shuddering groan all over Merlin's hand and the skin between them. It feels like it goes on forever, and even when he's got nothing left, Arthur's hips keep moving in stuttering bursts. Merlin arches up, his cock sliding easily between their slick bellies and it's almost too much on Arthur's oversensitised skin, but one more thrust and Merlin's whole body tenses up as he comes with his fingers digging into Arthur's back.

Arthur collapses on top of Merlin, too dazed to move. When Arthur's head stops buzzing, he realises he's probably too heavy to stay where he is so he rolls off onto the ground beside Merlin.

There's probably something he should say about how they ended up here or what happens next, but all Arthur wants to do is wrap his arms around Merlin, haul him closer, and kiss him until they can't breathe. So he does, and they stay just like that, all sticky skin and tangled limbs, there on the ground beside the river.

***

The next morning, Arthur is up and dressed long before he needs to be down at the training field. By the time Merlin walks through the door with Arthur's breakfast, Arthur has already rearranged his armour three times. Merlin looks at the armour and makes a disapproving sound when he sees the haphazard way in which Arthur has laid out the pieces.

"This is not how I left it," he says, picking up one of the gauntlets, "And I'm certain there were no fingerprints on this."

"It wasn't that long ago that you couldn't even identify a gauntlet, let alone polish one," Arthur says, harsher than he'd intended. Merlin raises his eyebrows in surprise but says nothing so Arthur continues. "And have you forgotten that it's my armour, and therefore I don't need to ask your permission before touching it?"

"Are you — ?"

"Am I what?"

Merlin frowns and chews on his lower lip for a moment. "Is this about what happened?" he asks in a quiet voice.

Arthur closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them again, he focuses his gaze on the wall above Merlin's head. "We don't have to — if you don't…"

Merlin doesn't say anything; he just waits for Arthur to find the words.

"I just — it doesn't have to be a big thing, right?" Arthur takes a deep breath and looks back at Merlin. "Just a roll around in the woods. Isn't that what you said?"

Merlin takes a step toward him. "Sometimes it's just that, but sometimes…"

"Sometimes what?" Arthur asks, his pulse quickening as Merlin comes even closer.

Arthur stands his ground; he refuses to back away while Merlin advances on him. He's faced dangers far greater than this without running away, so there is no reason why he should feel this terrified.

"If you had been listening," Merlin says as he moves closer, the corners of his lips quirking up in a smile. "You'd remember I also said something about big fluffy beds." He glances over his shoulder at the bed and then back at Arthur with a gleam in his eye. "And you haven't taken me to your bed yet."

Arthur lets out a noise that sounds an awful lot like a whimper. "Merlin, I — " The words die on his lips, so Arthur just wraps his hands around Merlin's waist and pulls him in.

Merlin's mouth is just as soft as it was the day before, and he tastes exactly the same. Arthur groans and thinks that he wants to have this today and tomorrow and maybe the day after that — Merlin warm and pliant against him, humming contentedly into a kiss.

The kiss deepens and Merlin locks his hands around Arthur's neck and leans in even closer, so that their bodies are flush. Arthur's cock stirs, and he tugs on Merlin's shirt, breathless at the memory of Merlin's body under his own.

"Wait, wait," Merlin says with a gasp, pulling his mouth away. "You have training."

"I don't care," Arthur says and tries to get at Merlin's mouth again, but Merlin twists out of his grip.

Merlin is flushed and breathless but he still manages to laugh. "You will later, and then you will find a way to blame this all on me."

Arthur starts to protest, but stops when he realises Merlin is probably right. "I guess I had better get down there," he says, trying to adjust himself so that his erection isn't rubbing suggestively inside his breeches.

Merlin glances down at the bulge between Arthur's legs. "You'll never make it through practice like that."

"I don't need you giving me anymore advice about having a wank beforehand," Arthur says as he paws at his breeches in frustration.

Merlin's grin widens. "Actually, I had something else in mind." He places his hands on Arthur's hips and pushes, until Arthur backs up against the wall, and without another word he sinks down onto his knees.

Arthur sucks in a breath when he glances down and sees Merlin looking up at him and licking his lips. "What are you — " Arthur croaks, but his words turn into a moan when Merlin pulls his breeches down over his thighs and wraps a hand around his cock.

Arthur nearly comes on the spot when Merlin leans in and licks the tip without breaking eye contact. None of Arthur's fantasies could have prepared him for the way it feels when Merlin wraps his lips around Arthur's cock and slides his mouth down. It's wet and hot and perfect, and it takes all of Arthur's self control not to thrust his hips forward to get more. When Merlin swirls his tongue around the head, Arthur hisses and twists his fingers in Merlin's hair just for something to hold on to. He tries not to pull, which is hard when it feels so good, but when Arthur tugs Merlin forward Merlin just makes an encouraging noise, spurring him on. Before he can stop himself, Arthur is telling Merlin just how much he likes his pretty mouth and chanting a litany of every filthy thing he thinks about in the dark.

Arthur is not going to last — not with the slick heat of Merlin's mouth around his cock and the soft noises Merlin makes as he sucks Arthur deeper. Arthur tugs Merlin's hair in warning and tries to pull away, but Merlin just swallows him down and hums around his cock. When Merlin skims his hand over Arthur's balls and strokes one finger across the sensitive skin behind them, Arthur comes with a strangled grunt.

Arthur slumps back against the wall feeling totally wrecked. A moment later Merlin is on his feet, and Arthur pulls him in, resting one hand on the small of his back.

"That was…" Arthur starts, but he can't find the words to finish the sentence.

"Better than having a wank all alone?"

Arthur lets out a breathless laugh. "Definitely better."

"You have to get down to the training field before the knights send out a search party to make sure no one has kidnapped the prince."

Arthur sighs and reluctantly releases Merlin from his arms. "I suppose they would notice if I never showed up."

"And you would be miserable if you didn't get to go out there and wave your sword around in a display of your manliness," Merlin says cheerfully, reaching for Arthur's doublet.

Arthur snorts as Merlin helps him into his armour. "Your understanding of training an army is remarkable."

Merlin looks up for a moment from where he is fastening Arthur's vambraces. "After practice you can find other ways of displaying your manliness. I want to see for myself just how soft a royal bed is."

It takes all of Arthur's willpower not to show him right then and there.

Down at the field, Arthur is not surprised to find the knights already assembled, but he hesitates before joining them on the field.

"You're really late," Merlin tells him.

Arthur grins, his head still buzzing from his orgasm. "Thanks to you, they're used to it."

Merlin chuckles and looks away, but when he looks back he's not smiling anymore. "Are you going to get distracted out there today?"

Arthur looks across the field to where Leon is demonstrating some advanced sword techniques to a few of the younger knights. When he looks back, Merlin is watching him closely.

"You mean by my brave and loyal knights?"

Merlin glances down at the ground, scuffing his boot in the dirt, but Arthur can see a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Don't forget handsome."

Arthur watches Leon as he swings his sword through the air in a slow, exaggerated manoeuvre, explaining as he goes. When he looks back, Merlin is shifting his weight from foot to foot. "They're just okay," Arthur says with a shrug.

Merlin looks up at Arthur and his whole face lights up with a grin that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. Arthur feels unreasonably pleased, and he's struck by how much he wants to say something else to make Merlin smile like that again.

But before Arthur can say another word, Merlin hands him his sword. "You'd better get out there before all the knights swear allegiance to Leon instead of you."

"But I — "

"Go," Merlin says, shoving Arthur's shield into this other hand and urging him out on the field.

Arthur crosses the grass to where his men are waiting.

"Sire," Leon greets him, grinning broadly. "I was just showing Tristan and Lionel some of the more complicated sword techniques."

"Excellent," Arthur says, clapping Leon on the arm then turning to face the young men. "You should pay close attention. Sir Leon is one of the finest knights in Camelot."

Arthur takes one last look over to the edge of the field where Merlin is standing. He knows he'll forget everything else the moment he raises his sword, so he holds onto the moment just a little longer before pulling on his helmet and facing the knights.

Merlin will be waiting for him when training is over, and there will be all the time in the world for everything else.