amarie_authielTitle: Knowing hands
Rating: G
Pairing/s: None, I think.
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Massage fic, I guess. Where Merlin talks and Arthur says nothing, but Merlin hears him anyway.
Warnings:
Word Count: ~460
Prompt:#120 hands
Author's Notes: Yeah, late I know. Didn't have much time this week. No beta as usual. But I’m back though! Hi!
Arthur flinches as Merlin finds another knot in his back.
-It’s not the end of the world you know. Many people live good and satisfying lives without ramming their heads into armored walls of muscle and bones so their team can score points.
Arthur mumbles in reply before letting out a slightly whimpering sound as Merlin’s hands demand his body it obey him for the last time.
There was something magical about Merlin’s hands. It seemed that whatever was on Arthur’s mind, Merlin would find traces of it in Arthur’s muscles. Somehow it was easier to admit to hurts and concerns when faced down on Merlin’s bench than standing fully dressed and face to face.
It felt nice to have a health crew that looked after them rather than just patch them up and send them back into battle. Doc Gaius would use lots of Latin words and medical terms and pin you with his stare until you agreed. Then his beloved protégé Merlin would execute the suitable treatment. They were a fierce team. Merlin was known to use elbows and knees if he felt it was needed and Arthur had seen bigger men than himself come wobbling back to the locker room after treatment. But they always felt better afterwards.
Arthur would miss them.
-It is meant to be a game, they guys want to you stay on but not if it means you will get permanent brain damage.
The knot gives in to Merlin’s fingers and he hums satisfied at his success. Arthur nearly drifts of to sleep as Merlin’s hands gently drains all tension from him with skilled moves. Neck, back, feet, arms, fingers. Familiar, safe and gentle.
-You will come see me though. I don’t solely exist to serve the needs of you rugby lads. I do have a life and clients outside these walls.
Arthur murmurs a vague sound. The guys too had talked about meeting at the pub and such. But they won’t do that. He’s a has-been now, it would be awkward. He’s on his own.
-Nah, forget that. You won’t do that. I’ll come find you. Make sure you don’t ram your head into brick walls for old time’s sake, you sentimental drama queen. Ok, you’re done.
The comfortable haze has to give way for reality. Arthur reluctantly sits up and prepares to leave Merlin’s bench for the hundred and last time while Merlin moves about, putting things back in their place and preparing for the next day.
He gives Arthur a quick pat and a squeeze of the shoulder before he leaves the room.
-You’ll be fine.
Arthur smiles a half-smile to himself.
Yeah, he’ll be fine.