bitchprince | Room 325, Sunday Afternoon

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brynmor,
room 325

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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"It's a lot like it, actually," Arthur said, with a slight shrug. "Just faster and smaller. Bit more of a kick."

"A bit?"

Arthur shrugged. "I actually have muscle mass, unlike some people I know. But don't worry," he hastened to add, "I've got talent for it and the sheer grit to withstand the training required."

"Enough to not be hurt when you get shot by one of them?"

"I have never been shot by a gun," he returned. "I was talking," okay, now he was just leaning his chin on Merlin's shoulder, that couldn't possibly be anything but snuggling, not that he was going to mention so, "About the recoil."

"And I was talking about the damage they do," Merlin replied, slightly mollified by the cuddling.

"It's a weapon, Merlin," he pointed out, shutting his eyes. "And nothing near as inhuman as an atom bomb."

Which was an idea that made Arthur twitch a bit, to be honest. Possibly physically.

"You didn't have to heal the damage from one."

"You think the damage would be that much less had it been a bolt or a spear?" It was a sensible question. "You know the end of an arrow is intended to cause more damage going out as it does going in."

Strangely enough, Arthur sounded like he had practical experience with that.

"Armor and skill will stop one of those. A gun could be fired from far away and there's no protection against the damage," Merlin replied.

"Kevlar," Arthur said, dismissively. "I haven't met the armor that kept every single weapon at bay, and the best I could ever offer was a tourniquet." He pressed an idle kiss to Merlin's shoulder, mainly thoughtful.

"Then get this kevlar thing."

Arthur's eyes rolled up a bit, but his chest managed an honest rumbling chuckle against Merlin's side and shoulder. "Nag."

That wasn't a no, though, going by the intonation.

Edited 2009-12-29 20:17 (UTC)

"Someone has to keep you alive," Merlin countered. "Since you do an abysmal job of it yourself."

"I kept myself alive fine until you showed up," Arthur informed him, "I have been trained for that, you know. I realise your ailing mind leads you to forget that often, but really."

Edited 2009-12-29 20:19 (UTC)

"Maybe you were good enough against people before I arrived and all that was left were better," Merlin suggested.

It was like magical natural selection!

"You have an awfully high opinion of yourself for a wizard whose greatest claim to fame so far has been turning Katina into a rabbit," Arthur told him. Chin still firmly on that shoulder.

It made his eyes more puppy-dog-like.

"Just because I don't boast about what I've done..."

"A rabbit," Arthur repeated. "And you were entirely inept at turning yourself back from a bird, if I recall."

"I saved you from, oh--shall we count the times?" Merlin countered. "It might be too high a number for you to follow."

"Lies and fabrications," Arthur said, easily, pulling him closer so he could somehow maneuver Merlin into-- shut up, it wasn't spooning. "A bird," he repeated.

It so was spooning. Because Arthur was the girly one now.

"Sophia. Valiant. Edwin..."

"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."

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