Entry tags:
Merlin - Frank Coincidences
It's been a long week. It's time for some crack.
Title: Frank Coincidences
Genre: Slash, Arthur/Merlin, Crack
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~ 2,200 words
Warning: Crack
Spoilers: General Series One
Synopsis: There’s something about Merlin.
Alternative Synopsis: Lisa Frank invades Camelot.
Author’s Notes: So![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
camelot_fleet is having a party this weekend and somehow the theme became fluff and porn and thus crack was born. I blame ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
drag_on_king, ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
frigg (who wanted to name it Franky), and camelot_fleet, as well as possibly far too much caffeine Thursday morning.
Disclaimer: I do not own this interpretation of the myths and am making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
The first time it happened, Arthur wrote it off as a coincidence. They were walking through the lower city and Merlin had commented that the little breads one stand had on offer looked and smelled just like the ones his mother’s best friend made back in Ealdor. It was a sunny day, no one had tried to kill them, and Merlin had just saved Arthur from an evil singing witch only two weeks before.
Feeling particularly generous, Arthur gave him a coin and shooed him away to go buy some. The smile that lit up on his new manservant’s face let him know he had made the right decision. The fact that some scrawny little whelp of a child happened to choose that moment to exclaim, “Look mama! A puppy!” was pure coincidence, that was all.
Little did Arthur know that was but a sign of things to come.
After a long and arduous ride in rather inclement weather, Arthur walked with Merlin while he stabled the horses for the night. Both were chilled to the bone, hair plastered about their heads from the drizzling rain, and near dead on their feet. A glance to Merlin showed he looked as if he would fall over with a solid push, and Arthur just could not bring himself to make the poor thing rub down the horses in soaking cold clothing, only to have to trudge through the castle and fetch him a meal and such.
“I’ve got it,” Arthur told him. Instantly a stablehand appeared, ready to do a job that was usually his anyway.
“Are you sure?” Merlin asked around a yawn. The only thing keeping him upright was the flank of the horse he currently leaned again.
Arthur nodded. “Go on, go get changed and warm. Grab some food for yourself from the kitchens and go to bed,” he ordered.
“But...” Merlin tried. It looked as if he knew there was something else he should do, but his tired mind just could not put the pieces together.
Arthur knew exactly what those pieces were, but also that he could manage on his own for an evening. He had not always had a manservant, and could always ask a passing maid if he needed something more, but, really, he could grab some food and his bed clothes on his own if it meant he would not have to trip over Merlin in the process. “Go on,” he said again. He made a shooing motion even as the stablehand took the brush from Merlin’s lax hands.
The grin was back again, reaching all the way to tired blue eyes. “Thank you, sire,” Merlin told him, possibly for the first time without a hint of irony.
The fact that several tiny kittens chose that moment to emerge from the hay in the stall was, once again, only a coincidence. After all, there kept cats for the mice and it only made sense that they had a litter from time to time.
The stablehand looked surprised though, so Arthur mulled it over while he sloshed back to his room, shaking his head when he found a fire burning bright in the hearth and a platter of his favourites waiting for him on the table.
After that, Arthur started to notice things a bit more. Like the way the sun broke free of the dense clouds when he complimented Merlin on not falling on his arse during training, or that the little buds of some flower or another that were barely a hint of colour in the morning were in full bloom by the time Merlin and Gwen headed to lunch, laughing and joking after spending the morning picking herbs together.
Life in Camelot was, as always, hard, but Arthur found that difficulty lessened whenever a smile shone bright on his manservant’s face. Oh, there were still the same tasks and the same ordeals and the same random idiots trying to kill them all, but somehow he felt he could deal with these things just a bit easier from time to time. And, should those times coincide with the times Merlin smiled or laughed or, in one memorable instance, giggled until his sides hurt, that was Arthur’s business and no one else’s. And should he just happen to try to make those things happen just a bit more often, that too was Arthur’s business.
He was, however, beginning to become concerned by the sheer numbers of kittens, puppies, and baby chicks that seemed to flood the city streets at times. Surely not the hens were not that fertile as, really, the daily egg consumption remained the same, though the cooks were planning for quite a lot of chicken dishes come fall.
It all came to a head when he caught Morgana laughing in a hallway one afternoon. “What’s so funny?” he asked, feigning interest.
Her maidservant Guinevere blushed and ducked her head and that is when he knew it had to be something good. He made prodding motions, already caught up in their grins and infectious laughter, and Morgana finally relented and said, “We were just commenting on the fact that it seems every time that servant of yours smiles, something cure and adorable happens.”
“And not just to his face,” Gwen whispered, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand as if she could not believe she had said that out loud.
They passed, still laughing, and Arthur began to think.
It couldn’t be magic, per se, as magic was evil and dark and most definitely not filled with fluffy kittens. There was something though, something he could not quite put his finger on. Perhaps Merlin was charmed? Surely even his father would not execute an innocent victim of a charm, especially when said charm simply produced fuzzy furry little things that made others smile, right? Yes, so, charmed, that was it. And Arthur was determined to find out just how far that charm extended.
He chose an already sunny day to test his hypothesis. He told Merlin they would be riding out on a round of the grounds, perhaps tour near the northern border. Merlin made a face, but obediently packed some rations and the two of them headed out under a suddenly rather overcast sky. Merlin was suspicious as to what the extra pouch Arthur had tied to his own mount held but, after months of training, managed to not physically ask and only stare at it instead.
Arthur led the way to what he knew was a beautiful glade, making small talk along the way. The sun sluggishly began to shine down upon them again, finally breaking fully free of the clouds when they reached the top of a gentle hill that provided an excellent view of field of flowers that rivalled a rainbow in its hues, cut through by a gently babbling brook and spotted with the occasional broad oak. A bird soared with wings extended high overhead and Arthur noted with amusement that it was a merlin, circling and dipping above them.
“Let’s have lunch,” Arthur suggested as he dismounted.
Merlin dutifully slid off his horse as well and grabbed both the blanket Arthur had tied to his mount and the trail rations, laying the first out by one of the convenient trees and offering the second to Arthur.
Arthur shook his head. Merlin frowned in confusion, watching as a leaf drifted down from the branches above them. “I have something better in mind,” Arthur consoled him as he grabbed his own pack.
He tossed it in Merlin’s direction, making the other man fumble and drop the rations to catch the leather pouch. Merlin opened it with the same bewildered look upon his face, absently shaking another leaf free from his hair. Arthur knew the moment he saw what was tucked within, however, as the smile was back, highlighted by the bright rays of the sun bouncing off his pale skin.
“You’ve brought the breads from the market!” Merlin exclaimed excitedly. He knelt down on the blanket and pulled out the rest, placing each one neatly next to the other. “And honey from the kitchens, and the cheese from last night’s feast that was too good for words, and...” He stopped suddenly, looking up at Arthur with wide, wide eyes. “But, why?”
Arthur crouched down beside him and tried to ignore the baby rabbit peeking out from the other side of the tree. “Because you like them,” he answered simply. The rabbit was joined by a chipmunk, cheeks stuffed with clover. “And because, though it may not always seem like it, I do appreciate everything you do. Well, most of it, anyway.” There was being honest and there was going too far and Arthur was not about to cross that line.
A squirrel and its babes chattered away on a branch above as Merlin said, “Thank you, Arthur. Just... thank you.”
“You are quite welcome,” Arthur assured him, feeling an odd warmth in his chest at the words. He sat fully on the blanket now, perhaps a bit closer than needed but neither of them mentioned it. “Now, dig in,” he urged, breaking off a piece of cheese for himself.
Merlin complied with vigour, smile steadfastly in place even as he munched his way through one of the small breads and a piece of cheese. Arthur tried to remember to grab bites to eat for himself, torn between watching Merlin’s happiness and watching the butterfly alight upon his shoulder. Merlin waved it off with an amused grin, and it flew over to rest upon a budding daffodil at the base of the tree instead.
Arthur could not help himself and, as Merlin tore off another piece of bread, leaned forward to brush a crumb from the very corner of his mouth. The smile on Merlin’s face froze slightly, and Arthur could feel the hitch of breath across his thumb where it lingered a bit too long against Merlin’s lips. Just when he wondered if he should pull back, pretend it was an accident and nothing more, Merlin opened his mouth as if to speak, tongue darting out to moisten his lips out of habit and moistening Arthur’s thumb at the same time.
Now it was Arthur’s turn to hitch his breath. Merlin’s eyes were wide and bright and Arthur swore he saw himself reflected within. He had to look away for a moment, let his eyes trace the tiny little rainbows forming in the mist from the nearby brook.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked, voice deceptively soft.
Deciding he was no coward, in this or any other thing, Arthur turned back to him, leaned forward, slid his thumb down to join his fingers and cup Merlin’s cheek instead. Merlin met him halfway, lips just barely brushing against his own. When it was certain neither one of them were going to bolt, they deepened the contact.
Since Merlin already had a taste of him, Arthur thought it only fair he get a taste in return and so he ran his tongue along Merlin’s bottom lip. His actions elicited a started gasp which served twofold: Merlin’s lips further parted to allow him access to the sweetness of his mouth, and it scared away a pesky cricket that had ventured too close to the blanket anyway.
He lost himself in the sensations for a moment, enjoying the heat of Merlin’s mouth, the flutter of his pulse beneath his fingertips, the gentle breeze the seemed to both cool them down and urge the robin above them to break into song. Reluctantly, he pulled back. He wanted to make sure he did not go too fast too soon, but the way Merlin chased after his touch was reassurance enough and he dove back in, only idly wondering how a rainbow could stretch from the brook to the sky above with nary a cloud in sight.
He trailed his hand down Merlin’s throat, letting it come to rest right above his heart, feeling the steady beat that somehow seemed echoed in the earth itself as what he hoped was not truly a deer bounded by, hooves pounding in perfect syncopation. Feeling adventurous, he let his other hand venture further, ghosting along the tiny sliver of skin between tunic and trouser before moving even lower still.
Merlin broke the kiss to gasp heavily against him, pulling back with wide eyes even as his hips pressed ever so slightly forward as if of their own accord.
“Too much?” Arthur asked, knowing what he hoped the answer to his question would be.
“No,” Merlin assured him. His own hands were now tangled in the ties to Arthur’s shirt, pulling him closer. Lips now only a breath away from his own once more, Merlin added, “But you really do not want to know what those two stags are doing behind you.”
Arthur decided that Merlin was likely correct at the same time he decided to focus all of his attention on Merlin instead. There were some things that were best to simply not pay any heed to. As Merlin began to tug at the ties of his shirt in earnest, Arthur amended that to add that there were also some things you most definitely did not want to ignore.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed. Even for this.
Title: Frank Coincidences
Genre: Slash, Arthur/Merlin, Crack
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~ 2,200 words
Warning: Crack
Spoilers: General Series One
Synopsis: There’s something about Merlin.
Alternative Synopsis: Lisa Frank invades Camelot.
Author’s Notes: So
camelot_fleet is having a party this weekend and somehow the theme became fluff and porn and thus crack was born. I blame drag_on_king, frigg (who wanted to name it Franky), and camelot_fleet, as well as possibly far too much caffeine Thursday morning.Disclaimer: I do not own this interpretation of the myths and am making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
The first time it happened, Arthur wrote it off as a coincidence. They were walking through the lower city and Merlin had commented that the little breads one stand had on offer looked and smelled just like the ones his mother’s best friend made back in Ealdor. It was a sunny day, no one had tried to kill them, and Merlin had just saved Arthur from an evil singing witch only two weeks before.
Feeling particularly generous, Arthur gave him a coin and shooed him away to go buy some. The smile that lit up on his new manservant’s face let him know he had made the right decision. The fact that some scrawny little whelp of a child happened to choose that moment to exclaim, “Look mama! A puppy!” was pure coincidence, that was all.
Little did Arthur know that was but a sign of things to come.
After a long and arduous ride in rather inclement weather, Arthur walked with Merlin while he stabled the horses for the night. Both were chilled to the bone, hair plastered about their heads from the drizzling rain, and near dead on their feet. A glance to Merlin showed he looked as if he would fall over with a solid push, and Arthur just could not bring himself to make the poor thing rub down the horses in soaking cold clothing, only to have to trudge through the castle and fetch him a meal and such.
“I’ve got it,” Arthur told him. Instantly a stablehand appeared, ready to do a job that was usually his anyway.
“Are you sure?” Merlin asked around a yawn. The only thing keeping him upright was the flank of the horse he currently leaned again.
Arthur nodded. “Go on, go get changed and warm. Grab some food for yourself from the kitchens and go to bed,” he ordered.
“But...” Merlin tried. It looked as if he knew there was something else he should do, but his tired mind just could not put the pieces together.
Arthur knew exactly what those pieces were, but also that he could manage on his own for an evening. He had not always had a manservant, and could always ask a passing maid if he needed something more, but, really, he could grab some food and his bed clothes on his own if it meant he would not have to trip over Merlin in the process. “Go on,” he said again. He made a shooing motion even as the stablehand took the brush from Merlin’s lax hands.
The grin was back again, reaching all the way to tired blue eyes. “Thank you, sire,” Merlin told him, possibly for the first time without a hint of irony.
The fact that several tiny kittens chose that moment to emerge from the hay in the stall was, once again, only a coincidence. After all, there kept cats for the mice and it only made sense that they had a litter from time to time.
The stablehand looked surprised though, so Arthur mulled it over while he sloshed back to his room, shaking his head when he found a fire burning bright in the hearth and a platter of his favourites waiting for him on the table.
After that, Arthur started to notice things a bit more. Like the way the sun broke free of the dense clouds when he complimented Merlin on not falling on his arse during training, or that the little buds of some flower or another that were barely a hint of colour in the morning were in full bloom by the time Merlin and Gwen headed to lunch, laughing and joking after spending the morning picking herbs together.
Life in Camelot was, as always, hard, but Arthur found that difficulty lessened whenever a smile shone bright on his manservant’s face. Oh, there were still the same tasks and the same ordeals and the same random idiots trying to kill them all, but somehow he felt he could deal with these things just a bit easier from time to time. And, should those times coincide with the times Merlin smiled or laughed or, in one memorable instance, giggled until his sides hurt, that was Arthur’s business and no one else’s. And should he just happen to try to make those things happen just a bit more often, that too was Arthur’s business.
He was, however, beginning to become concerned by the sheer numbers of kittens, puppies, and baby chicks that seemed to flood the city streets at times. Surely not the hens were not that fertile as, really, the daily egg consumption remained the same, though the cooks were planning for quite a lot of chicken dishes come fall.
It all came to a head when he caught Morgana laughing in a hallway one afternoon. “What’s so funny?” he asked, feigning interest.
Her maidservant Guinevere blushed and ducked her head and that is when he knew it had to be something good. He made prodding motions, already caught up in their grins and infectious laughter, and Morgana finally relented and said, “We were just commenting on the fact that it seems every time that servant of yours smiles, something cure and adorable happens.”
“And not just to his face,” Gwen whispered, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand as if she could not believe she had said that out loud.
They passed, still laughing, and Arthur began to think.
It couldn’t be magic, per se, as magic was evil and dark and most definitely not filled with fluffy kittens. There was something though, something he could not quite put his finger on. Perhaps Merlin was charmed? Surely even his father would not execute an innocent victim of a charm, especially when said charm simply produced fuzzy furry little things that made others smile, right? Yes, so, charmed, that was it. And Arthur was determined to find out just how far that charm extended.
He chose an already sunny day to test his hypothesis. He told Merlin they would be riding out on a round of the grounds, perhaps tour near the northern border. Merlin made a face, but obediently packed some rations and the two of them headed out under a suddenly rather overcast sky. Merlin was suspicious as to what the extra pouch Arthur had tied to his own mount held but, after months of training, managed to not physically ask and only stare at it instead.
Arthur led the way to what he knew was a beautiful glade, making small talk along the way. The sun sluggishly began to shine down upon them again, finally breaking fully free of the clouds when they reached the top of a gentle hill that provided an excellent view of field of flowers that rivalled a rainbow in its hues, cut through by a gently babbling brook and spotted with the occasional broad oak. A bird soared with wings extended high overhead and Arthur noted with amusement that it was a merlin, circling and dipping above them.
“Let’s have lunch,” Arthur suggested as he dismounted.
Merlin dutifully slid off his horse as well and grabbed both the blanket Arthur had tied to his mount and the trail rations, laying the first out by one of the convenient trees and offering the second to Arthur.
Arthur shook his head. Merlin frowned in confusion, watching as a leaf drifted down from the branches above them. “I have something better in mind,” Arthur consoled him as he grabbed his own pack.
He tossed it in Merlin’s direction, making the other man fumble and drop the rations to catch the leather pouch. Merlin opened it with the same bewildered look upon his face, absently shaking another leaf free from his hair. Arthur knew the moment he saw what was tucked within, however, as the smile was back, highlighted by the bright rays of the sun bouncing off his pale skin.
“You’ve brought the breads from the market!” Merlin exclaimed excitedly. He knelt down on the blanket and pulled out the rest, placing each one neatly next to the other. “And honey from the kitchens, and the cheese from last night’s feast that was too good for words, and...” He stopped suddenly, looking up at Arthur with wide, wide eyes. “But, why?”
Arthur crouched down beside him and tried to ignore the baby rabbit peeking out from the other side of the tree. “Because you like them,” he answered simply. The rabbit was joined by a chipmunk, cheeks stuffed with clover. “And because, though it may not always seem like it, I do appreciate everything you do. Well, most of it, anyway.” There was being honest and there was going too far and Arthur was not about to cross that line.
A squirrel and its babes chattered away on a branch above as Merlin said, “Thank you, Arthur. Just... thank you.”
“You are quite welcome,” Arthur assured him, feeling an odd warmth in his chest at the words. He sat fully on the blanket now, perhaps a bit closer than needed but neither of them mentioned it. “Now, dig in,” he urged, breaking off a piece of cheese for himself.
Merlin complied with vigour, smile steadfastly in place even as he munched his way through one of the small breads and a piece of cheese. Arthur tried to remember to grab bites to eat for himself, torn between watching Merlin’s happiness and watching the butterfly alight upon his shoulder. Merlin waved it off with an amused grin, and it flew over to rest upon a budding daffodil at the base of the tree instead.
Arthur could not help himself and, as Merlin tore off another piece of bread, leaned forward to brush a crumb from the very corner of his mouth. The smile on Merlin’s face froze slightly, and Arthur could feel the hitch of breath across his thumb where it lingered a bit too long against Merlin’s lips. Just when he wondered if he should pull back, pretend it was an accident and nothing more, Merlin opened his mouth as if to speak, tongue darting out to moisten his lips out of habit and moistening Arthur’s thumb at the same time.
Now it was Arthur’s turn to hitch his breath. Merlin’s eyes were wide and bright and Arthur swore he saw himself reflected within. He had to look away for a moment, let his eyes trace the tiny little rainbows forming in the mist from the nearby brook.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked, voice deceptively soft.
Deciding he was no coward, in this or any other thing, Arthur turned back to him, leaned forward, slid his thumb down to join his fingers and cup Merlin’s cheek instead. Merlin met him halfway, lips just barely brushing against his own. When it was certain neither one of them were going to bolt, they deepened the contact.
Since Merlin already had a taste of him, Arthur thought it only fair he get a taste in return and so he ran his tongue along Merlin’s bottom lip. His actions elicited a started gasp which served twofold: Merlin’s lips further parted to allow him access to the sweetness of his mouth, and it scared away a pesky cricket that had ventured too close to the blanket anyway.
He lost himself in the sensations for a moment, enjoying the heat of Merlin’s mouth, the flutter of his pulse beneath his fingertips, the gentle breeze the seemed to both cool them down and urge the robin above them to break into song. Reluctantly, he pulled back. He wanted to make sure he did not go too fast too soon, but the way Merlin chased after his touch was reassurance enough and he dove back in, only idly wondering how a rainbow could stretch from the brook to the sky above with nary a cloud in sight.
He trailed his hand down Merlin’s throat, letting it come to rest right above his heart, feeling the steady beat that somehow seemed echoed in the earth itself as what he hoped was not truly a deer bounded by, hooves pounding in perfect syncopation. Feeling adventurous, he let his other hand venture further, ghosting along the tiny sliver of skin between tunic and trouser before moving even lower still.
Merlin broke the kiss to gasp heavily against him, pulling back with wide eyes even as his hips pressed ever so slightly forward as if of their own accord.
“Too much?” Arthur asked, knowing what he hoped the answer to his question would be.
“No,” Merlin assured him. His own hands were now tangled in the ties to Arthur’s shirt, pulling him closer. Lips now only a breath away from his own once more, Merlin added, “But you really do not want to know what those two stags are doing behind you.”
Arthur decided that Merlin was likely correct at the same time he decided to focus all of his attention on Merlin instead. There were some things that were best to simply not pay any heed to. As Merlin began to tug at the ties of his shirt in earnest, Arthur amended that to add that there were also some things you most definitely did not want to ignore.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed. Even for this.