Title: Cold, Crisp Nights and Warm Hearts
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, Percival, Mordred, Gwaine’s Mother, mentions of Leon, Lance, Gwen, Elyan, Morgause, Morgana
Summary: Bonfire night fluff with Merlin, Arthur and the gang
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff at the end?
Word Count: 1019
Prompt: #287 – Campfire: Thankful
Author's Notes: *holds hands up* Okay, so I’ve twisted the prompt a tiny bit and used a bonfire, which is *technically* a large campfire?
And look, LJ fixed things and I can post now (although I somehow have two different profiles, one I created in May and one created in September, but I can only access the September profile. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )
Still, I shall content myself with being able to post again. :) Thank you SO SO much again to Dig for posting my drabbles for the last few weeks!
The night was cold and crisp, as by day the leaves on the trees were changing into a riot of colours before falling, definitely signifying that autumn was on it’s way out and winter was pressing forward ready to crown them with her frosty nights and dreary days. Arthur was feeling contemplative and a bit sullen as he felt a sudden warmth pressing into his side. He smiled into his mug of soup.
“Ready for the fireworks?” asked Merlin, rubbing his hands and huffing warm air into them.
Arthur glanced to the side at Merlin’s face, framed by his beanie pulled low over his brow. He was pale in the moonlight, except for his red nose and cheeks. Arthur shoved his half-finished mug of vegetable soup at him.
“Here, idiot,” he said as he pressed a warm mug into his hands and a kiss to Merlin’s freezing cold lips. “Finish this before you freeze to death.”
Merlin grinned and drank down the soup. “I always knew you loved me,” he said.
Gwaine came loping over excitedly to them. “Hey lovebirds, we’re going to light the bonfire. Come on, Mordred brought petrol to chuck over it and Perce got a couple of bottles of vodka! Thank fuck he looks like a giant. He never gets IDed.”
Arthur glared at Gwaine. “Fuck off, Gwaine. Just because you can’t pull Elena doesn’t mean you can take out your sexual frustrations on us.”
Then Arthur grinned at Merlin and gave him a disgustingly sloppy kiss which made Merlin moan and scrabble at the collar of Arthur’s coat.
“Dear God you two are disgusting. Well, whenever you lads finish fucking, come join us, yeah?” he said, before racing off.
“Oi!” called Merlin who nudged Arthur’s shoulder before they took off, tearing across the field of the Orkney estate, close on Gwaine’s heels. They pounced both him to the ground and shovelled leaves on top of him and down his coat.
“Mercy! Mercy!” yelled Gwaine, dramatically. “I take it back! I take it back!”
Soon they all arrived breathless and laughing by the huge bonfire Gwaine and Percival had spent the best part of the week assembling. Their friends; Leon, Percival, Lance, Gwen and her brother Elyan, Mordred and Gwaine’s older sister, Morgause and Arthur’s own sister Morgana were all gathered around the unlit fire.
They watched Gwaine, Percival and Mordred messing around with the petrol before setting fire to the bonfire which roared to life in an instant and Gwaine triumphantly waived around a pack of hot dogs. “Dinner!” he declared. “And I’ve just ordered pizza on my phone.”
When the packet was passed around to them Merlin sighed and passed it on to Arthur without taking anything. “Vegetarian, remember?” he said when Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.
“Shit. And you can’t have the pizza either. God Gwaine is a shitty host! Come on, let’s go to the house and find something in the kitchen.” Arthur leaned closer to him and spoke quietly. “Besides, it’ll be nice to get away from this lot and have you to myself.”
When they opened the door to the kitchen of the house (after snogging every few steps along the hallway) they were immediately hit by the smell of home-cooking.
“Arthur! Merlin!” exclaimed Mrs Orkney excitedly. “Perfect timing. I want you both to taste.”
She pushed two bowls at them across the counter.
“You cooked? But Gwaine just ordered pizza,” said Arthur, puzzled.
Gwaine’s mother smiled tenderly at him. “I know my son and he is not considerate in the slightest.” She shook her head. “Hotdogs and pizza, indeed! Not in my house. Did he even offer you anything you could eat, Merlin dear? No—don’t answer that, I already know. Well boys, get this down you. A nice beef casserole for you, Arthur darling and a hearty vegetable stew for you, Merlin.”
Merlin shot Arthur a wry look before taking up his spoon and attacking the stew.
“Best not to be too long my dears, or you’ll miss the fireworks. Send the others in afterwards so they can fill their stomachs. Pizza and hotdogs!” she shook her head disdainfully.
When Merlin and Arthur finally escaped from the kitchen and Mrs Orkney’s mothering, they both burst out laughing.
“Oh God, now I know why Gwaine spends so much time over at other people’s houses. Talk about smothering. And you thought my Mum was bad,” chuckled Merlin as they headed outside again and joined the others by the campfire; the crisp, cold air misting their breath in front of them.
Gwaine jogged over to them. “There you guys are! We’ve been searching high and low. What have you guys been up to.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Your Mum,” leered Arthur.
Gwaine’s face fell. “Ew. You’re gross, Pendragon.” Merlin and Arthur both cracked up.
Percival, his face full of joy, grinned at them like an overexcited puppy, over Gwaine’s shoulder. “Are we ready yet?”
Merlin snickered at Percival and Arthur rolled his eyes then shooed them away. “Yes, why don’t you both go set fire to things and leave us alone?”
Gwaine tilted his chin defiantly and swished his hair. “Come on Perce, we know where we’re not wanted.”
The whole group gathered around the bonfire, which was still burning brightly, and warmed their hands and faces on it, drinking the vodka, whilst Gwaine, Percy and Mordred set off a plethora fireworks for their entertainment (and Gwaine, Pervical and Mordred’s enjoyment).
Arthur slid behind Merlin and slipped a hand into his back pocket, cupping his arse. Merlin gasped and murmured, “Arthur!”
Arthur nuzzled against his neck and slid his arm around Merlin’s waist. “I like Bonfire night,” he declared. “I have everything I need right here; a full stomach, a warm fire, family, friends and you.”
And Merlin felt not just a warmth from the fire in front him, from Arthur behind him and the vodka that had burned down his throat, but a soul-deep warmth coursing through him, pulsing in time with his magic; consisting of happiness, love and contentedness. “Me too,” agreed Merlin. “Me too.”