Title: Breaking Faith
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Arthur waits. Once he goes into this, there's no coming back out. He knows that once he gives himself over, Merlin isn't letting him go.
Word Count: 1290
Prompt: #87 - Arouse
Author's Notes: Annnd the moment we've all been waiting for. Can't say I'm 100% okay with this one, but I'm tired and I like it well enough after like, ten billion edits. Sorry Mods, for going over the word count again. I promised I'd actually start going within limits, and well, at least I did for the last two drabbles, right? A/D verse always gets me excited. But yeah, so, hope you guys enjoy!
Read the rest of the Angels & Demons verse.
Arthur is not quite sure when it happened, but he knows now that his life is pretty fucked.
The evening is dark, as always, the chill of winter settling into his bones. Despite being away from Heaven for so long, Arthur doesn't find himself feeling the slightest bit homesick. He feels happy, surprisingly, his Human has been wonderfully good lately, so the accomplishment lifts a significant weight off his chest.
He peers up into the sky, noticing the way the moon glistens, piercing through the shadows. He should probably be leaving, right about now, but his feet hold fast, and he knows, he knows that if he stays, Merlin will come.
But should he really want that?
Allowing his body to just take over, Arthur lets his feet carry him to the familiar alley, duly noting how it seems to be a frequent spot for him in the Human world. Memories of the place flash through his mind, bringing a strange sense of calm through him that he couldn't place or name.
Perhaps, Arthur thinks, standing in the part of the alley that's illuminated. This should worry me.
But it doesn't. Which is abnormal, or at least it should be, because all of the memories of this alley revolve around Merlin. Irritating, infuriating, cheeky, and charming Merlin; the damn Demon who has practically made it his goal in life to ruin Arthur and all he stands for.
Though, ever since seeing him bloodied and bruised, all those weeks ago, Arthur can't help but feel strangely about him. It was easy to dislike him when he was goading him, when he was manipulating him, but it was so much harder when he had been handicapped, when he'd been wounded. He couldn't fight back—he was shockingly normal. As normal as a Demon could be, at least. He had been so pitiful in a way that made Arthur want to help him, cater to the small part of him that wanted to just break.
Arthur, on the whole, is sure he had. He's known for a while now that if Merlin comes to him, he probably won't fight him. It's disgusting, and wrong, and the mightiest of all sins, but, but—
But Arthur doesn't care. He honestly and truly doesn't care. His resolve is gone, he feels it deep in his body, in his every thought, in every breath.
It scares him, how little he cares about being damned.
Is this what love feels like? He isn't sure. Is love the feeling of not caring what happens, so long as whomever you love cares for you unconditionally?
Arthur feels a chill, and he knows this isn't from the cold, despite the temperature outside. He closes his eyes, and lets the darkness crawl slowly closer, feeling it creep around him, until finally, he feels it. Chilly, lithe fingers trail cautiously along his cheek, but he doesn't move, doesn't open his eyes, breathing out quietly.
He can't tell you how, but he feels Merlin smile.
“And here you are,” he breathes, his voice scarcely above a whisper. “I had hoped...”
Merlin stops, and with a surer hand, he continues brushing his fingers along his face, slowing traveling down his arm until he reaches his hand, but doesn't grasp it. Instead, after a beat, he pulls away.
Arthur finally opens his eyes. Merlin tilts his head, still smiling, clearly amused, as he always is. His eyes glitter with something he can't name, and though he should find it unsettling, he really doesn't.
He can tell Merlin is holding back, can tell from the way his gaze sears into him, how he's holding himself a careful few inches away from him, not crowding his space as usual. He's waiting for confirmation, for Arthur to give his approval, his acceptance of the situation.
Arthur waits. Once he goes into this, there's no coming back out. He knows that once he gives himself over, Merlin isn't letting him go.
The thought should scare him more than it is.
Another beat passes, but Arthur's choice has already been made.
He reaches his hand out, and takes Merlin's carefully, fitting their fingers together. He breathes in and out slowly, and gives a small nod.
Merlin's smile widens.
And then he's on him, backing him to the wall, their lips locked together, Merlin cradling his head in his hands, as if Arthur is fragile, as if he'll break if Merlin don't hold him. Arthur's fingers are curled around his wrists, trying to keep up, trying to remember how to breathe with Merlin this close to him, with Merlin touching him, kissing him--
“Missed you,” Merlin mumbles against his lips, moving to kiss down his neck, yanking at the hem of his shirt. “Don't know when it started, but it's just there, always there. Fuck, I feel like I need you.”
Arthur can't manage a coherent response, only a small whine as his head spins. He's no longer cold by any stretch of the word, the erratic thrum of his heart shooting blood to all parts of him, making his skin almost unbearably hot.
“Knew you'd come to me,” Merlin whispers into his ear. “Knew you wanted me as much as I want you.”
Merlin moves back to his lips after sucking a rather sizable mark on his collarbone, plundering his mouth with his own. It's far from gentle, teeth clacking together, tongue biting and licking. It's hot and slick and really, Arthur should find this disgusting, but he doesn't, he doesn't and he tangles his fingers in Merlin's hair, reveling in how it just fits--
He's convinced he's half mad, if not completely.
“I'll take such good care of you,” the Demon promises, voice low and sultry. “My little angel.”
Merlin presses closer to him, fitting their bodies together and Arthur shudders at the feeling, the warm pool of desire settling in his stomach. He feels hot, and the sharp burn of arousal spreads throughout him, and God help him, but he wants--
Abruptly, Merlin pulls away. He sucks in a breath shakily, recoiling his hands to his sides. Arthur stares, panting just the same, taking note of how black has nearly engulfed the blue of Merlin's eyes.
He swallows, feeling the unease creeping up on him. “Did...I do something wrong?”
It's the first time he's spoken since Merlin showed up. He finds his voice hesitant, which he supposes is only natural, reflecting how he feels.
Merlin's gaze softens, and he smiles, almost ruefully. “No. No, of course not. I just want to take this easy. Slowly. I fear I won't...be able to stop myself if this keeps up. Believe me, I desire you far more than you know.”
“I fail to see the problem with this,” Arthur replies, surprising not only himself, but Merlin as well.
The Demon looks startled for a moment, before he chuckles, rich and soft in his throat. Shaking his head, he mutters something under his breath, brushing his thumb along his cheek. “So innocent, my precious little angel. Oh, if I knew it was what you wanted, I'd mark you. I'd mark you inside and out, so everyone would know, so no one would dare touch you, because they'd know you were mine.”
The Angel vaguely remembers Mordred's words, somewhere far back in his mind. “So I take it Merlin has marked you, then?”
“What does that mean?” Arthur asks, because he never did before. “What does it mean to be marked?”
Something flickers in Merlin's eyes, but he doesn't answer. Instead, he only smiles again. “Don't worry about it. It's nothing you need trouble yourself about.”
He kisses him again, gentle and sweet, and any protests Arthur has are enveloped and forgotten in the warmth.