bitchprince | Room 325, Sunday Afternoon

Bored. Bored bored bored. A morning spent in the salle had not alleviated Arthur's enormous helping of boredom. He needed to distract himself. With no weapons allowed in the dorms, it had been a bit difficult (if not impossible, but he'd put it aside after a while) to work on Merlin's not-really-a-Christmas-present-anymore, so that was out, too.

He had already put Francine's sweater away as far as he could (it wasn't that he didn't appreciate the gesture. It was just that it wasn't... well, you know. He was trying to be nice, and it was decent craftsmanship, but it kept reminding him of Merlin's absurd obsession with items of clothing his mother had made), poked around the room, tried the Teevee (still not pleasant, especially without the distraction of someone in the room) and gone through the first chapter of Salammbo.

Nothing.

Which was why, by the time the middle of the afternoon rolled around, there was a dog sitting on Arthur's floor.

"Stay. Just-- no. Stay."

[[ open post, half-open door ]]

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"I could've handled them," Arthur shot back.

If he knew anything about Merlin's narrative, he'd have to go beat something up for it. "Not that your help wasn't sort of appreciated."

Listen, you did have to accomodate for pride before you said these things.

"I could tell from the near drowning that you had the situation well in hand," Merlin assured him. "Just about to spring your trap, no doubt."

"Oh, I was," Arthur told him, flicking him very lightly upside the head.

Sort of pointless, if the resultant flinging-one's-arm-over-the-other-one's-side thing was to be judged on its merits. "You just lack patience."

"And you wait to the last minute then?"

"Exactly. Glad we see eye to eye on this." Hi, back of Merlin's neck, Arthur was going to kiss you, too.

Merlin blinked a few times before pulling Arthur's arm more firmly around himself. "I suppose I needed to be told it."

"I'd say I'm glad you see things my way, but we both know you were being ridiculous not doing so."

Arthur's arm tightened by a lot. He kissed that same spot again. Or perhaps half an inch above it.

"You mean intelligent, right?" Merlin asked, bending his head down.

"I don't think you understand what that word means," Arthur said, reaching the nape of his hair with the next one.

"The opposite of you?"

"Oooh," Arthur said, with fake outrage, "Nice try, Merlin."

That suddenly ruffled hair? Courtesy of Arthur Pendragon. "But a mite bit amateurish."

"I'm a bit distracted." Because... hello there.

"You are very easily distracted," Arthur said, thoughtfully.

Yeah, all right. Shifting a hand under Merlin's shirt.

"Like you wouldn't be!"

"I have to admit I'm fairly distracted," he mused.

Mmm. Body heat.

"You'd be moreso if I was the one--there." A beat. "In your position."

There was a pause that...

... might have been more suggestive than Arthur was willing to admit. "But you're not," he said, finally, sliding his hands over Merlin's stomach.

You could be, though.

Oh sure, make him flail internally. "No. I'm not."

He was cruel like that. "Mm." He rubbed a vague kind of pattern into the muscles down there. "Want to take the dog out and do something?" About that. He didn't add.