Title: All in the Family IV
Summary: Merlin's memories are plaguing him day and night, and then he goes and does something monumentally stupid.
Warnings: some sexual content (past life), incest (only necking), underage, age difference (18/14)
Word Count: 790
Author's Notes: Please read the warnings; things are starting to pick up...
Sometimes when Merlin would wake damp with sweat and sticky shorts, he’d curse destiny. He’d curse it to hell and back. And then he’d remember.
Arthur used to touch him more, back in Camelot. He had been a very tactile person back then. And Merlin soaked it up like a sponge. Sometimes, Merlin could remember there were days that Arthur just kept them both locked up in his chambers.
The room would reek of sex by midday and then he’d have to throw open the window. But Arthur would stalk right over to him and pin him to the wall next to the open window and fuck him right there. They’d have to keep their voices down in case anyone down below heard. Anyone who chanced a look up might have seen them.
Now though, Merlin’s lucky if he gets so much as a pat on the back from Arthur. But in his dreams Arthur touches him all the time. Like they used to touch in Camelot. Only it’s different now. Now Merlin has grown up with Arthur. They’re brothers.
A part of Merlin wants to push it away for all its wrongness, but the part that remembers the way Arthur used to kiss down his spine in the morning wants to hold on tight and never let go. Merlin’s not so sure he can fight that part.
It comes to head one day. It’s not even a special day. Just a day. A regular Tuesday afternoon that has Merlin indulging in his childhood by watching rerun episodes of Buffy and Arthur blustering about in the kitchen. Morgana’s away on a camping trip with her new besties Morgause and Nim and their parents have gone to some convention or other—who knows; they’re kind of weird anyway.
Arthur finally stops mucking about and walks into the living room, plopping himself onto the couch next to Merlin, taking up way more space than he really needs. He tosses a soda into Merlin’s lap and changes the channel to some sport show.
Merlin rolls his eyes, but keeps his tongue. Arthur’s always doing things like that. He somehow thinks it’s a good exchange: he gets to change the channel to something he wants to watch and Merlin gets a soda handed graciously to him. The prat.
Merlin glances over at his brother, momentarily caught as Arthur tilts his head back to take a large swig of his drink. Merlin watches Arthur’s throat work, memories of licking and sucking his way down that very same throat bombarding him.
He gulps quietly, desperately wishing he had put on something better than the thin pajama pants he’s currently wearing. As casually as possible he draws his legs up in attempt to hide his inappropriate and badly timed erection.
The show on the screen switches over to commercial and Arthur looks away from it, attention no longer caught by the sight of a ball being kicked around a field. He notices Merlin’s stiff pasture and pink cheeks. The raise eyebrow and smirk that come are not a surprise. This is how Merlin usually looks when something embarrassing has happened.
“You’re as red as a tomato you know.”
Arthur throws his head back and laughs, giving Merlin another view of his delectable neck. If only he could just – unknowingly, Merlin moves so far into Arthur’s personal space he can smell him. Lost in his memories, Merlin goes and sticks his nose right into the spot between Arthur’s chin and throat and licks.
In the back of his mind he registers Arthur tensing, but he’s still caught up in his memories. He’s only pulled back to reality as Arthur’s hands come up to grasp his shoulders and push him quickly away. Then Merlin remembers that he’s not in Camelot and Arthur is his brother, not his King and then realization that he’d just licked his brother’s neck falls upon him.
“Oh god,” he says faintly, staring at the wet red spot he’d been nibbling on. He’s afraid to look Arthur straight in the eyes.
“What…” Arthur trails off, too stunned to really come up with anything to say. Merlin spares a glance at his brother’s shocked face and bites his lip. In the end he does the only thing he can think of. He flees.
He runs all the way to Will’s house and his best friend lets him in while he’s gasping and trying not to break into tears. Will doesn’t ask what’s wrong and Merlin doesn’t say. He just gathers Merlin up and drags his skinny self to Will’s bedroom. When he gets back home the next day Arthur is acting like nothing had happened. That hurts more than Merlin thought possible.