Work Text:
Merlin watched as the cogs turned without a sound, how the hangar lights glinted from the brass and the brushed metal, how the delicate machinery spread the wings like a mechanical approximation of life. The movements were a little jerky, but still natural, like a bird getting ready to fly out of the nest for the first time. The wings spread slowly, filling most of the hangar when they spread out. The shadows from the fine metal feathers created stripes of light and dark on the floor.
"They are beautiful," the prince said. His voice was low and Merlin could only hear him because they were standing right next to each other. "Do they work?"
"Not yet, but soon," Merlin said. And then he felt the need to add: "This is foolish."
"So you keep telling me," the prince said, a warmth in his tone that had not been there for the first few times Merlin had told him. The prince nudged Merlin's shoulder with his own, a gesture that felt disturbingly friendly, although not unwelcome. Saying no to a prince wasn't a very common practice. But Merlin prided himself in not being very common himself. Not that a denial had made that much difference in the end.
"You know that your father will kill me if you drop down from the sky?" Merlin said. "He might kill me just because I agreed to build them for you." He started gathering the tools on the table, putting them back in their designated places. It was a routine that calmed him down enough that his hands weren't trembling.
"Merlin," the prince said and gripped Merlin's wrist with his hand, snatching a wrench from his oil stained fingers with his other hand and gently placing it back on the table. "You have my complete trust. And protection." He used his grip on Merlin to turn them so that Merlin was pinned between his worktable and the prince. "Besides," he said slowly, "who is going to tell him it was you who helped me? And if he finds out, I will just say that I bullied you into it."
"Which you did," Merlin said.
"Yes. So I wouldn't even be lying," the prince said, smiling widely.
Right from the start, Merlin had had certain difficulties with that smile. The answering grin spread too quickly, but he couldn't help it. "Arthur, you're going to fly," he said, and a small tremble went through his body. He would be like an avenging angel, Michael with a burning sword and wings made of metal. He trembled again, his muscles not able to relax when Arthur was this close. He was both afraid and exhilarated all at once. It was foolish and unbelievably dangerous, maybe even blasphemous, but it was something no one had tried before. And it was a secret he shared with Arthur.
This wasn't a simple vanity project of a bored prince or a search for another weapon to help them in the war. It was just Arthur, dreaming further than other people, than any king before him. And Merlin would build machines for him, machines that would reach the moon and the stars if Arthur wanted him to.
Arthur's hands fell away from Merlin's wrists, circling his hips instead. Merlin kept grinning and leaned over, kissing Arthur like this wasn't the first time, like he was already allowed. Arthur let out only one soft sound of surprise and then kissed back.
Merlin felt light, like an armful of feathers, like his machine had already worked.