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It's ten pm when Arthur's doorbell rings. His parents have gone to visit his uncle for the weekend so it's just him, and he isn't expecting anybody, but since it's raining like mad he gets up to answer it anyway. When the door swings open and he sees Merlin on the other side—completely soaked through and shivering—his heart nearly trips over itself.
"Merlin? What the hell?"
"'Lo," Merlin says, smiling sheepishly even as water drips down into his eyes. "I didn't mean to bother you, it's just—" he pauses, licks the rainwater off his lips, "I was at Owain's party and I'd expected you to be there but you weren't, and Gwen ran off with Lance, and Leon and Morgana had disappeared, and Will was pretty shitfaced but Freya was taking care of him, so I—"
He breaks off suddenly, staring at Arthur. "I'm sorry," he finally says. "I shouldn't have come here, I know you're probably busy or—or with someone, that's probably why you weren't at the party—"
"I'm not," Arthur interrupts quickly. "With anyone. Or busy, actually. Just, um. Just studying. For the history exam on Monday."
Merlin blinks. "Oh." He hesitates, biting his lip. "Do you—erm. Do you think maybe I could come in? Only it's raining really hard—"
Arthur curses, because goddamn if he's not an absolute idiot, and grabs Merlin's arm to haul him inside. "Sorry," he mutters, shutting the door and turning the lock.
"'S alright," Merlin says, and fuck it all his teeth are starting to chatter.
"Come on," Arthur orders, turning and leading the way to the main stairs. "You can use my bathroom, take you a hot shower. I'll throw your clothes in the wash—I'm pretty sure I've got something that'll fit you."
"You know how to do laundry?" Merlin asks, sounding half-teasing and half-skeptical. "My clothes won't wind up three sizes too small or pink, will they?"
Arthur shoots him a narrow-eyed glare over his shoulder but Merlin looks like some sort of weird combination of incredibly sexy and drowned kitten so there's no real heat in it. "I'll have you know my mum taught me to do laundry as soon as I was old enough to reach the buttons on the machine," he sniffs indignantly.
Merlin snorts softly but follows Arthur up the stairs and into his bedroom, heading straight for the bathroom. Arthur moves to his wardrobe and digs around in the back until he comes out with a worn blue t-shirt and a pair of old jeans. He hesitates briefly before walking over to knock on the bathroom door.
"Found you some clothes," he mumbles, and when the door clicks open he very carefully keeps his eyes trained on Merlin's face, thrusting the t-shirt and jeans at his pale chest. "Here. It won't be a perfect fit but it should do until your clothes are dry."
"Thanks," Merlin says, taking the bundle from Arthur and then handing over his wet things. "I won't be long in here, I just need to warm up a little."
Arthur nods curtly and turns on his heel, leaving his bedroom before his eyes can get the chance to drop down to the towel knotted low on Merlin's hips. He hurries down to the laundry room and throws Merlin's clothes in, adding detergent and hitting all the correct buttons. The machine starts up and Arthur stares at it for a second before letting out a loud groan and dropping his arms and head down onto the top with a quiet bang.
He hadn't gone to Owain's party for the simple reason that he'd wanted to avoid Merlin and his big, stupid ears and his bright blue eyes and the easy grin that makes Arthur's heart thud wildly in his chest. It's getting harder and harder to not give himself away, and while Arthur is fairly certain Merlin wouldn't make a big deal about a friend being madly in love with him, it would definitely make things more awkward than Arthur can handle. And now Merlin has waltzed right into Arthur's house, looking like something out of one of his numerous fantasies.
Sighing heavily at his fate, Arthur straightens and makes his way back up to his room, detouring through the living room to grab his history textbook. Merlin is still in the shower, so he settles down on his bed and tries to pick up where he had left off. Unfortunately, all his brain can focus on is the fact that Merlin is naked in his bathroom, getting even wetter than he'd been before.
Arthur lets himself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like to join a willing Merlin in the shower, but all that admittedly nice image does is make his cock threaten to swell. So he scowls and forces himself to read the next three paragraphs in his textbook. When the water in the bathroom suddenly shuts off, Arthur's heart nearly stops and he curses at himself for being so bloody ridiculous.
The door opens after a few minutes and Merlin walks out, wearing the too-large t-shirt and the baggy jeans, running a towel over his hair. Arthur tries desperately not to stare at the droplets of water that trail down Merlin's neck, but there's really only so much he can deny himself.
"Thanks for this," Merlin says, tossing the towel back into the bathroom. His hair is still damp, and sticking up wildly. "I know I showed up without any warning."
Arthur snorts and closes his history book, sitting up to place it on his bedside table. "You're my friend, Merlin. I'm not going to turn you away, especially in the middle of a rainstorm."
Merlin is silent for several long moments, an odd expression crossing his face. "Am I?" he finally asks, voice hitching and quiet. "Your friend, I mean. Because it really doesn't seem that way lately."
Arthur blinks at him in shock, the words hitting him like a punch in the gut. "What?" he asks dumbly. "Of course you're my friend, you—we've been friends for years, how could you think otherwise?"
Merlin shrugs and slides his hands into his pockets, staring down at where his toes peek out from the hem of the jeans. He wiggles them in the carpet. "I thought we were, but it seems like you've done everything you could think of to avoid me as much as possible over the last few weeks. It's—I don't know if I've done something to make you angry or whatever, but I'd rather you just tell me. I can't take this not knowing."
Arthur closes his eyes, his heart clenching. God, he is such a stupid fuck. "You haven't done anything, Merlin, I swear." He opens his eyes and catches Merlin gazing back at him, expression guarded. That hurts, that look, because Merlin has always been open with him, has never felt the need to hide what he was thinking. "I'm sorry," Arthur says. "I didn't mean to make you think it was your fault."
Merlin hesitates. "So you have been avoiding me? If it's not something I did then why?"
Fuck.
"Um," Arthur starts, feeling panic rise thickly in his chest. "It's not—I can't tell you."
"You can't tell me," Merlin repeats, voice going flat. He shakes his head, jaw clenching as he turns his head to stare out the dark window. "Of course not. How silly of me to assume you would actually trust me." His gaze is sharp and hurt when he looks back at Arthur. "I'll leave."
Merlin turns and grabs his shoes from the bathroom, not even bothering to slip them on before making his way to the bedroom door. The panic wells up, nearly choking Arthur, and he doesn't even register what he's doing as he leaps from his bed and jumps in front of Merlin, blocking his way.
"You can't," he blurts desperately, gripping Merlin's wrist tightly. "Your clothes aren't ready."
Merlin scowls and tries to pull his arm free. "I'll send Gwen by," he says, voice still flat. "I'm sure she won't mind."
"No!" Arthur nearly shouts, and Merlin blinks at him in surprise. He takes a deep breath and drops his hand, trying to calm his racing heart. "I mean—" He pauses, darts his tongue out to wet his lips. "I could tell you but it would just make things weird between us."
Merlin sighs, shoulders slumping as his anger seems to fade. "Arthur, I'd rather have things a bit weird between us for a while rather than not have your friendship at all. Just say it."
But Arthur can't, the words won't come. They sit heavy on his tongue, IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou chanting over and over in his mind, but he can't get them out. The fear of losing Merlin whether or not he says them—the knowledge that that could very well happen—chokes him, tightens his chest until he can't breath, can't think, and so he does the only thing he can.
He steps forward, crowding into Merlin's space, and kisses him.
It's both soft and firm, too dry, and Arthur hears Merlin's shoes hit the floor with a dull thud as Merlin gasps into his mouth. He knows he's probably going to get punched, or at least pushed away, so he takes the opportunity to flick his tongue over the edges of Merlin's teeth, breath hitching when he feels a brush of tongue. Forcing himself to step back he breaks the kiss, almost dizzy with a combination of terror and exhilaration. Merlin is staring at him in shock, eyes wide and dark.
"You kissed me," he breathes.
Arthur clears his throat and swallows, feeling heat flood his face. "Yeah. I did."
There's a pause, the air thick with tension, and then Merlin is lurching forward, sliding his hands into Arthur's hair and gripping hard as he crushes their mouths together. Arthur lets out a surprised sound that quickly turns into a moan as Merlin presses closer, sliding his tongue into Arthur's mouth. It's wet and messy, a desperate edge to it, and Arthur kisses back roughly as he clenches his hands in the fabric of Merlin's t-shirt. His cock is already hard and aching, and there's no way Merlin can't feel it because he can feel Merlin's.
"Oh god oh god," Merlin says when he breaks the kiss, using the hands buried in Arthur's hair to tilt his head back. He scrapes his teeth over Arthur's Adam's apple, following quickly with his tongue. "So fucking long—"
"Fuck," Arthur gasps, and shoves his hands under Merlin's t-shirt, sliding his hands over Merlin's ribs as he drags the shirt up and over his head. "Why didn't you say something, you wanker?"
Merlin nearly growls, yanking Arthur's own t-shirt off and throwing it somewhere. "I tried, you complete arse, but you never responded to any of my signals so I figured you didn't want to."
Arthur doesn't really know what to say to that so instead he moves his hands to the button on Merlin's jeans and pops it open, giving one good pull on the denims to make them fall to the floor. Merlin is naked underneath, and Arthur groans as he realizes that he forgot to give him any underwear. He wraps his hand around Merlin's hard cock and pulls, enjoying the stuttering curse that results. Arthur strokes him a few more times and then Merlin's hands are at the fly on Arthur's jeans, tugging it open and sliding beneath the waist to grip Arthur's cock.
"Fuck," Arthur says again, because it's familiar but really, really not, and so much better than his imagination. He pushes into the circle of Merlin's hand, shuddering when he feels Merlin's thumb swipe over the head.
And then they're stumbling toward the bed, leaving their jeans and Arthur's shorts behind, sharing frantic, biting kisses along the way. They hit the edge and fall, awkward and at the wrong angle, so Arthur shifts and lets Merlin scramble into a better position before pinning his hips to the bed and swallowing his cock down to the base. Merlin shouts, back arching and hands clenching in Arthur's hair, muscles straining beneath Arthur's hands. His cock is thick in Arthur's mouth, and he sucks hard as he pulls back, twisting his tongue around the head and catching the precome already leaking out.
"A-Arthur," Merlin gasps, tugging on Arthur's hair. "Fuck me. Please, please, oh god—"
Arthur groans and releases Merlin's cock, closing his eyes and taking a deep, ragged breath. When he opens them again Merlin is looking back at him, pupils blown wide and everything Arthur has ever wanted from him written clearly on his face. Arthur swallows thickly and moves up to press their mouths together, licking into him deep and filthy, drinking in the low groan that echoes from Merlin's chest. He breaks away to reach for his bedside table, sliding open the top drawer and grabbing the bottle of lube he keeps there.
Arthur sits up and taps the outside of Merlin's thigh. "Turn over," he says, voice rough.
A visible shiver courses through Merlin and then he's flipping over, settling onto his knees and elbows. He glances back over his shoulder at Arthur, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Like this?"
Arthur can only nod, his eyes tracing the angles of Merlin's back and the curve of his arse. His hands shake as he flips open the cap on the bottle and pours out a generous amount of the oil, letting it slide between his fingers and drip down onto his sheets. One finger presses in easily, a tiny whimper sounding from Merlin at the action. Arthur glances at his face before looking back at his hand, finger disappearing again and again into Merlin's body. He adds a second finger, working them in and out a few times before making it three. He twists his wrist, hearing Merlin's breath hitch as he pushes back against Arthur's hand, groaning.
"Come on," Merlin says tightly. "I'm ready, Arthur, please—"
Arthur withdraws his fingers and spreads the remaining oil over his cock, stroking himself a few times before lining the head up to Merlin's hole. His heart is pounding wildly, and he can't stop the soft whine that escapes as he pushes past the tight ring of muscle.
"Oh god, Merlin," Arthur breathes, eyes locked on his cock as it sinks further and further into the heat of Merlin's body. "So good, oh fuck—"
Tiny, stuttering noises sound from Merlin's throat, his hands twisting in the sheet beneath him. Arthur drags in a deep breath and clenches his hands around Merlin's hips, holding him steady as he begins to fuck him, short hitching motions quickly giving way to deeper, harder thrusts.
He knows he isn't going to last long because he's wanted this far too much for far too long, so he pauses and shifts slightly, hoping the new angle will hit that certain spot inside of Merlin. Apparently it does, because Merlin curses and shudders, spreading his legs further and pushing his hips back against Arthur.
"Oh my god," he gasps, the muscles around Arthur clenching tightly. "Oh fuck, fuck, Arthur—"
Arthur groans and closes his eyes, fingers tightening on Merlin's hips, his own snapping forward at a hard, unforgiving pace. His cock fills Merlin over and over, tight heat clinging to him and drawing him back in, and he doesn't ever want to stop. Merlin moves beneath him, fucks himself back as Arthur thrusts forward, and the two of them manage to find a rhythm that's mostly erratic and slightly awkward. It works, though, it works too well and Arthur feels his orgasm build much sooner than he would have liked. He tries to hold it off, tries to slow down, but Merlin makes a noise of protest and pushes himself up onto his hands before slamming backward, and Arthur goes deep, deeper than before, and he's coming before he realizes it's going to happen.
"Fuck," he gasps, cock pulsing as it fills Merlin, his fingers digging hard enough into Merlin's skin that it will probably bruise.
When it's finally over he pulls out slowly, glancing up to find Merlin watching him over his shoulder, face flushed and eyes wild. Arthur looks back down and can see Merlin's still-hard cock heavy between his legs, balls tight. His eyes are drawn upward and his breath hitches when he sees Merlin's hole, his own come just beginning to leak out. Unable to stop himself, Arthur leans forward and swipes his tongue over it, licking it up before it can fall. Merlin lets out a choked cry, hips stuttering as he automatically tries to push back against Arthur's tongue.
So Arthur does it again, hands coming up to grip Merlin's arse cheeks and hold them open. He drags his tongue over the fucked out hole, flicking it out to gather the come as it escapes, swallowing it down. Merlin lets out a stream of curses that quickly dissolve into broken moans, and when Arthur slides his tongue inside and twists it he shouts loudly, muscles clenching as he comes. Arthur pulls away and Merlin collapses in his own mess.
"Holy fucking hell," he says after a moment, voice thick. "I think you've killed me."
Arthur huffs out a laugh and drums his fingers on Merlin's hip. "I want to see you."
Merlin groans in protest but manages to shift until he's on his back, staring up at Arthur with heavy-lidded eyes. He looks completely, utterly wrecked, his face flushed and his hair clumped with sweat, the come he landed in spread across his stomach.
Arthur reaches up and drags his fingers through it. "You're an absolute mess," he murmurs, and braces his other hand on the bed so that he can lean forward and press his come-covered fingers against Merlin's mouth. Merlin parts his lips and sucks them in one by one, soft tongue cleaning the liquid off. Arthur watches, and when Merlin finally releases his fingers he moves to settle next to him on the bed.
"I think I need another shower," Merlin says, turning his head to give Arthur a lazy, contented smile.
Arthur hesitates. "So you'll stay?"
Merlin snorts. "Oh, I'm not going anywhere." He rolls to face Arthur, curling one arm around his waist and throwing one leg over Arthur's. "This is exactly where I've wanted to be for ages. There's no way in hell I'm giving it up."
A huge smile breaks out across Arthur's face and he buries his nose in Merlin's hair, breathing him in.