Title: Heated Moments
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin,
Summary: Merlin's anger had unexpected results.
Warnings: Strong language, mild sexual content
Word Count: 1000
Prompt: Heat of the Moment
Author's Notes: Yeah, anyway...
Merlin stormed into the castle after Arthur. Seeing to the horses hadn’t helped and all he could think about was getting to his master. The corridors flashed past and his feet pounded the well-trodden path in his fury. Merlin didn’t hear the greetings called or the concerned looks when passers-by saw the expression on his face. All he was focused on was getting to Arthur.
Merlin had never knocked but he didn’t think he had ever barged into the prince’s chambers with such force before. The doors swung back violently, hitting the walls behind them and rebounding. Luckily, Merlin had stepped far enough into the room that they didn’t hit him. Arthur had managed to take his armour off and as he turned, the only thought in Merlin’s head was how vulnerable he looked without the sheets of metal protecting him. His anger pulsed further.
Merlin ignored Arthur’s annoyance. It was pitiful in comparison to his fury. He stalked across the room until he was directly in front of his master. His gaze found the cut on Arthur’s neck and he reached out, shoving the man in the chest. Merlin knew his push wasn’t hard, but Arthur was caught by surprise and he stumbled.
“Are you a fucking idiot?” Merlin growled, reaching for Arthur again. “What were you thinking, goading him?”
Arthur’s hands grabbed hold of his wrists, holding him firm. “How dare you talk to me like that?”
“How dare you be such a fool!” Merlin yelled, fighting against the grip. When Arthur’s hold didn’t relent, he kicked the man in the shin. Arthur let go and Merlin shoved him again. This time, Arthur didn’t move.
“He could have killed you!”
“We were surrounded by knights, Merlin, he wouldn’t have had the chance.”
“He had a fucking knife against your throat.” Once again, Merlin’s gaze sought out the cut on Arthur’s neck and he shivered. He had been too far away, there had been nothing he could do but watch as the bandit threatened Arthur’s life, even drawing blood. If Leon hadn’t managed to double behind and plant his dagger in the man’s back, he would be yelling at a corpse.
“I had the situation in complete control.”
Arthur’s calm tone made Merlin see red and he lashed out again. Arthur captured his wrists again and pulled him closer, not giving Merlin the leeway to be able to struggle properly.
“What is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with me?” Merlin spat. “What is wrong with you? How the hell am I supposed to save you when you goad the man trying to kill you?”
Arthur stared at him and his lips twitched. “Again, we were surrounded by knights. I’m not sure I needed my servant to save me.”
“You pig-headed prat.”
Merlin pulled back but Arthur’s strength meant he was forced to take a step forward instead. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, fuelled by his anger.
“Yes?” His word was a shaky whisper as Merlin suddenly realised how close to the prince he was standing. His gaze was locked on Arthur’s lips.
Then Arthur was kissing him. Without so much as a by-your-leave, his lips found Merlin’s and Merlin felt that Arthur wasn’t as unaffected as he was making out to be. There was urgency in that kiss, a desire to feel alive after brushing so close against death. Merlin pressed closer, his hands fisting in Arthur’s shirt. The prince finally released him, only his hand snaked into Merlin’s hair and he pulled him closer.
But Merlin was still angry. His destiny could have been killed and he would have been able to do nothing but watch. He wasn’t prepared to let Arthur take control and he bit down on the man’s lower lip. Arthur drew back and Merlin again pushed him. This time, Arthur let himself be backed against the wall and Merlin sought out his lips again, thrusting his tongue into Arthur’s mouth and trying to tell the prince without words that he was not allowed to dance with death without Merlin’s say-so.
Arthur’s hand slipped lower and Merlin gasped as the prince groped him.
“Fuck,” Merlin whispered, sagging in Arthur’s hold even as his body responded to the ministrations Arthur was providing.
“You wish,” Arthur muttered, his own voice low and hoarse. His eyes were dark with need and Merlin knew for sure that Arthur had just been pretending that it hadn’t bothered him he had a cut on his neck from where he nearly had his throat slit.
Merlin rested a hand on the prince’s chest even as he sunk to his knees. He had helped Arthur dress enough times that it only took seconds to unlace the man’s breeches. Merlin felt smug as Arthur’s erection sprung free, glad that he could affect the prat as much as Arthur got to him.
“What are you-oh! Oh!”
Merlin wasn’t a country boy for nothing, expertly taking his master in his mouth. Whether it was the fight or their kiss, Merlin didn’t know, but it didn’t take long until Arthur’s knees were giving way and he had to clutch at a candle fitting on the wall to stop him from sliding to the floor.
Merlin sat back, wiping his mouth. His heart-rate returned to normal and he suddenly realised what he was doing and what position he was in. He jumped to his feet, only moved too fast and stumbled. Arthur’s quick reactions stopped him from falling and before Merlin realised what he had done, he had hidden his face in Arthur’s neck.
“Kill me now.”
“Where would be the fun in that?” Arthur teased. “No one else yells at me when I almost get killed.”
Merlin punched him – weakly and ineffectively. “I haven’t forgiven you for that.”
“If this is the result, then I’ll do it more often.”
Realising his punches weren’t having any effect, Merlin kissed him instead. Anything to stop him from talking about being killed.