Title: He Who Owns Your Heart
Pairing/s: lightly implied Merlin/Arthur
Character/s: Merlin, Gwaine
Summary: “There's...something about him,” Merlin murmurs, shaking his head. “Something about him that...that I can't place. Can't put my finger on." In which, Merlin mulls over his desires and Gwaine knows about Arthur.
Word Count: 1,369
Prompt: #79 - The Month of Sins: Greed
Author's Notes: Please safely assume that all of the A/D verse fics for this entire month will be over 1000 words, due to the fact that I have this horrible habit of just not stopping the flow when it comes. But yeah, sorry for the lack of Merlin/Arthur in this one, I think this is my first time not writing them *squints*. Yeah, I'm not entirely pleased with this. It feels off to me, like, I don't know why, but it just...does. But anyway, I'm going to try and slowly introduce other characters (both Demon and Angel) to the mix, since this verse is turning out to be way larger than I thought it was going to be. Plus, who doesn't love Gwaine? Psh, anyway, please enjoy!
Other parts; "Mischief Managed" - "Into The Dark" - "With a Kiss, He Falls"
“You look a little worse for wear.”
“I aim to please.”
Gwaine laughs, a rich sound that vibrates low in his throat, making Merlin smile along with him, despite himself. The other Demon sits down next to him, feet hanging over the ledge like his, folding tattered wings down against his back.
The structure Merlin, and now, Gwaine, sit at is tall building, practically abandoned these days. It towers high into the skies, the overlook making anyone down below seem like tiny ants. Incidentally, it's once of Merlin's favorite places in all the realms. He's always like being in high places—it makes him feel like king of the world, as if nothing will ever bring him down, or topple him. He closes his eyes, letting his thoughts swirl until his friend decides he wants to speak to him.
“No, but seriously,” Gwaine says to him, and Merlin turns to look at him, curious eyes meeting his own. There's a tone in Gwaine's voice that causes Merlin to become more alert. “You're looking pretty rough, lately. Like something is clawing at you, but you won't let it out. You never let stuff get you down, so tell me, what's eating at you, mate?”
Merlin offers a shrug. “I'm not down, but even if I were, does a Demon really need a reason to feel a little like shit?”
“A Demon? No. You? Yes,” Gwaine replies, and gives him a shove on the shoulder, but Merlin knows it's in good nature. “So, spill it, Emrys.”
“Nothing to spill.”
Merlin huffs out an annoyed breath, shoving him back. “You're awfully nosy today. What, can't find your own entertainment, so you need to bother me?”
Gwaine puts a hand over his chest in mock-hurt. “I'm wounded. I'll have you know there's tons of people I could find entertainment in, but I would never betray you like that. You know you're my favorite,” he winks, leering at him.
He snorts, cocking a brow. “Eloquent as always, Sinclair. But really, I'm fine.”
The other Demon shrugs, as if accepting his answer for the time being. Gwaine is silent, which is entirely unusual for him, and he knows that there's probably something Gwaine needs, or wants, to tell him, because Gwaine never comes to him without a reason in mind, but apparently it's not important for him to know right now. Merlin idly swings his legs back and forth, his thoughts straying once again.
He drums his fingers on his legs, fighting the urge seeded deep inside of him. He wants to go, to get up and to leave entirely, to find him, to take all that he is and claim him, but he can't, and won't for that matter. It's not as if the Angel would let him, anyway. But what he doesn't understand is why, why this urge has taken him over, buzzing in his mind and under his skin—ever since the first moment he'd laid eyes on him. Even before that—the moment he'd felt the Angel in the vicinity all that time ago, he'd been lost. But he still doesn't know why, and until he does, he won't do anything drastic. Not without the Angel's consent, at least.
“It's about that Angel, isn't it?” Gwaine says to him coolly, and Merlin stills, sucking in a breath.
He curls his fingers into a fist, willing his heart to remain steady. He quells any fears that might be building, and he replies tentatively, “You...know about him?”
Gwaine barks out an undignified noise, akin to a chortle. “Of course I do. I knew you were infatuated the moment he wasn't dead or screaming within five minutes of meeting you.”
Merlin gives him a wry smile at the implication, then it fades, and he glances at him, wary. “You...haven't told anyone?”
“Nah,” Gwaine shrugs, as if the thought never occurred to him. “Why would I? It's not like I care what you get up to in your free time.”
The Demon breaths a sigh of relief that he hadn't known he'd been holding within him. But then the other Demon says, rather darkly, “But, what you do in your free time is also making you unhappy, so that's what I care about.”
Merlin bites down on his lip absentmindedly. “It's not that. I'm not unhappy, I just...I'm fighting. And it's strange, Gwaine, I've never had to fight against something I want, before.”
“So why are you?” Gwaine drawls, giving him a look. “It's not like you couldn't just take him. You've had the chance before, I'd think. Besides, like you said, it's not in your nature to hold yourself back.”
“There's...something about him,” Merlin murmurs, shaking his head. “Something about him that...that I can't place. Can't put my finger on. But it's like, I want him, but I don't want to take anything he won't give me. I feel like I'd ruin it if I just took him. It's this...this feeling inside of me. I feel it constantly, whenever I think about him, deep inside of me. It won't go away. At first I thought it was a passing fancy, but now it's...”
He trails off. Gwaine picks up, “But now it feels like it could become more?”
Merlin offers another halfhearted shrug. “Maybe.”
There's a pause, and then Gwaine sighs, long-suffering and over-dramatic. “Listen, Merlin, hate to pop the bubble that you tend to live in, but you're forgetting one thing—he's an Angel. Angels have this whole chastity thing going on. In other words, they don't do things like us. They don't give into sexual desires, if they even have any,” he snorts at that. “But what I mean is, thinking it could be anything more? That's a little too far fetched, even for you, mate. You might want to give up on that.”
“He let me kiss him,” Merlin says, letting the words roll of his tongue, still making him smile. “Better yet, he asked me to. He's inexperienced, and he's fighting it, but he's also curious. Not that he'll ever admit it, but he likes it, and I'm wearing him down.”
A smirk curls onto his lips. Gwaine whistles in approval. “Damn, mate, when you want something, you go all out. I admire a Demon who takes what he wants,” he winks, and then shakes his head, smiling. “But that's impressive, convincing an Angel to kiss you.”
Merlin stares for a moment, before asking, “Is it, though? He's consuming me, Gwaine. I think about him all the time. I'm constantly fighting back the urge to go to him, to find him, to be near him. I've never acted like this before. I want him, every part of him, more than he'll give me, more than he's already given me.”
“That's the curse of greed,” Gwaine says wistfully. “Always wanting more than you have. But tell me something, Merlin, how would you feel about someone else giving him a tumble?”
The Demon's fists clench tightly, almost painfully, a haze of anger clouding his mind at the mere thought of someone else touching Arthur. No one else's hands should ever come anywhere near his Angel. Hell, no one should even think about touching what belongs to him.
The other Demon makes a noise, clearly wanting an answer, and Merlin replies through gritted teeth, “I'd kill anyone who even thought about it. I'd tear them apart limb from limb, I'd stain myself in their blood, if that's what it took. He's mine and they should know that.”
His mind clears of all anger when Gwaine begins to laugh, low in his throat, shaking his head. He meets Merlin's gaze, who stares at him in confusion, but his friend just pats him on the shoulder, in a gesture of comfort.
“My friend,” he grins, a lilt of amusement in his tone. “You can think what you like, but I think you've cleverly missed the detail that it's clear he owns you just as much as you own him.”
Gwaine stands, then, unfurling his wings again. He winks at Merlin, giving him a cheeky smirk, before jumping, letting the winds carry him into the darkness below.
Merlin's eyes linger after him, wondering if maybe, just maybe, he's right.