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 ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Sounds tasteful," Arthur said, his brow crinkling. "Get on with it, then."

Listen, he didn't get shirtless for just anyone. ~~Only when he knew Merlin was going to roam around his quarters.~~

~~Thank you, canon.~~

Pushing it into the DVD player, Merlin flopped back on the bed, toeing off his shoes. "It's cold here. Don't they have those heating things?"

"They must not be working properly," Arthur noted, yanking on him. Space heater, you know.

"Oi!" It wasn't like he was that warm. Merlin shot him a foul look before pulling the covers over himself. "You're shirtless, of course you're cold."

"I am not cold," Arthur pointed out, firmly. "You're the one complaining."

And Arthur would be the one sticking his face in Merlin's neck.

"Cold!" Okay, so he was complaining. Someone needed to warm up there.

"Girl."

And now someone was stealing his scarf.

"Ass," Merlin countered, shoving at his chest with cold, cold hands. Vengeance would be his!

Arthur was not going to wince. No. He was a strong and powerful knight and he could deal with Merlin's ice-cold hands, thank you.

"Gangly bumpkin," Arthur retorted, easily, and took a handful of Merlin's bony arse.

Which just meant Merlin toppled on his chest in a completely uncoordinated manner. "You're an ass, you know that?" He informed Arthur's collar bone.

"So you keep telling me," Arthur told him, "But I'm not sure you have trustworthy judgement when it comes to that."

"I think I have the most trustworthy opinion on the matter!"

"You would, but you'd be wrong." He gave Merlin's bottom another leisurely grope, then let his hand travel up.

"Ho-OW would I be wrong?" There was no hitch in his voice there. At all.

Merlin moved his cold hands on up to Arthur's neck in retaliation.

"The way you usually are," Arthur told him. Okay. Cold hands. Cold, cold hands. He jerked the slightest bit, but that wasn't capitulation.

Someone might want to tell him that sliding his fingers up along the knobs of Merlin's spine was only revenge if your hands were actually cold. "Utterly."

"And you--" Merlin replied, pulling him in for a kiss. "Can't see past your own nose."

Room 325, Sunday Afternoon

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!

Re: NFB from here!