If somebody had told him

Merlin woke up slowly, light coming through a gap in the thick curtains in front of the window. Arthur’s arm lay around his waist, pulling the two of them close together. Merlin sighed happily. If somebody had told him at the beginning of his service to Arthur that he would someday end up as the king’s boyfriend, with Arthur knowing about Merlin’s magic as well, Merlin would have laughed and declared them as stupid and (possibly) mentally deranged. But, between them flirting and bantering like an old married couple for years and a fed up Gwaine shoving them in a supply cupboard, locking them in and yelling through the door, that he would only let them out, if they managed to finally get their act together and confess their feelings, they had finally realised their mutual, very much non-platonic feelings for each other (thank the gods) and started courting. This had been two months ago and last night had been the first night where Arthur had asked Merlin to stay with him (Merlin, of course, had all too happily complied). And now, lying in Athur’s arms, Merlin couldn’t imagine a place where he would be more content. Carefully, hoping not to disturb the sleeping Arthur, he turned around to face his boyfriend and started tracing light patterns over his sleeping form. He lightly stroked Arthur’s cheeks, traced his nose, his eyebrows, then his lips. He continued on to Arthur’s throat, fingers lingering on the small love bite he had given him the night before, smiling to himself. He then moved on to Arthur’s clavicles, his broad chest and soft belly, tracing his ribs and stroking his sides lightly. Merlin began kissing his lover’s neck and felt him stirring.

“Good morning, my love”, Arthur muttered sleepily. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very much so. Your bed is absolutely decadent”, Merlin murmured back, only shortly interrupting his kissing of Arthur’s neck.

“‘S not”, Arthur argued in a not very convincing manner, as his voice was still soft from sleep and he arched his neck to make more room for Merlin’s actions. He, however, stopped focusing on Arthur’s neck and turned his focus on Arthur himself, looking him in the eyes, still a little unfocused from his sleep and the manner in which he’d been woken up.

“Hi”, Merlin breathed, and leaned down to place a gentle kiss against Arthur’s lips. “Shall I fetch your breakfast?”

“Mhh, that would be lovely. Bring enough for two.”

“That hungry, my lord?”

“Oh, shut up, Merlin, you know exactly what I meant by that.”

Merlin just laughed, placed a last kiss against Arthur’s lips and stood up - realising his mistake only when he heard Arthur’s gasp - too late. He quickly muttered a spell to cast a glamour, but Arthur was out of the bed in seconds.

“What was that, Merlin?”, Arthur asked, voice trembling.

“What do you mean, Arthur?”, Merlin asked back, voice steady and almost dismissive as he went about searching his clothes that had been thrown all around the room the evening before.

“Don’t play dumb, I know what I just saw”, Arthur growled. “Drop whatever spell you got going there and show me!”

Merlin stilled, but didn’t turn around to face Arthur. “If I told you everything was fine, would you let it go?”, he asked, voice small.

“No.”

Merlin dropped his head and sighed defeatedly. Eventually, he muttered a spell, dropping his glamour, revealing all of his scars to Arthur. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Arthur, but still didn’t turn around. Then, suddenly, he felt Arthur’s presence behind him, close, but not quite touching.

“Turn around”, Arthur demanded quietly. Merlin complied, but still didn’t look at Arthur. “Please look at me”, Arthur asked, after a moment of taking Merlin’s sight in, the big burn on his chest, the small scars from knives and arrows, the big ones from swords, and the chain marks that had never quite faded. But Merlin just shook his head and kept his gaze on the floor. “Merlin, please.” He felt a hand cup his cheek and lift his head until he came face to face with Arthur and what he saw there made his breath hitch and his heart ache. It was neither the anger he’d expected, for keeping yet another secret, nor was it disgust at the sight of his ruined body. Arthur’s eyes were filled with so much love and affection, but also with so much sadness that Merlin wanted nothing more than to fall in his arms and stay there forever. “I am so sorry you had to go through all of that alone, Merlin”, Arthur whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. You’re never going to be alone again with that kind of burden, do you hear me?” Merlin just nods and a broken sob escapes his throat as he falls against Arthur, who catches him with ease and holds him. He holds him for what feels like hours, stroking his hair and muttering soothing words in his ear, promises of never having to be alone again. And Merlin believes him. Because he loves Arthur and Arthur loves him. And if somebody had told him that when he’d started working for Arthur, he would have laughed and declared them as stupid and (possibly) mentally deranged.