Amped - Part 20
Nov. 20th, 2011 11:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwyllionTitle: Amped
Author: gwylliondream
Genre: Modern au
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 57,554
A/N: This was written for NaNoWriMo 2011. For additional notes, warnings, etc, please refer to Part 1 here.
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime! Thanks so much for reading!
“First, I want to look at your head,” Arthur said.
“It hurts, but I think it stopped bleeding,” Merlin sniffed. “Can you tell if it did?”
“Let me see,” Arthur said. “Maybe if you lie down, I can get a better look at it.”
Merlin crawled onto the crimson comforter and lay on his belly. The smooth expanse of his damp narrow back gave way to the towel-clad rise of his curvaceous rump.
“Here, use a pillow,” Arthur said, sliding a pillow under Merlin’s head. Merlin turned his face toward Arthur, his ear pressed to the pillow while Arthur sat on the bed to examine him. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to keep such things elevated anyway.”
Arthur poked gently at the lump that had formed on Merlin’s head. A slight gash had been crusted over by dried blood that had gotten loose in the steamy shower.
“Hold on a minute,” Arthur said.
He got up and went into the loo, returning with a pair of headache tablets, some white cotton gauze, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
“I’m afraid that I’m not much of a physician, mate,” Arthur said.
Merlin laughed softly, his cheeks rosy from the hot shower. “Under the circumstances, you’ll do,” he said.
Arthur dabbed the gauze in the peroxide and worked the fine strands of Merlin’s hair away from the wound.
“That’s a nice one,” he breathed, cleaning away the blood. “Does it hurt much?”
“Not as much as when I was getting my head slammed into the floor,” Merlin whispered.
Arthur grimaced and held the gauze fast against Merlin’s head, applying a bit of pressure. “I admire your sunny disposition about the ordeal. It can’t have been funny while it was happening,” Arthur said.
“No,” Merlin said. “That bleeding bit I could have done without.”
Arthur took the gauze away and examined its surface. “The bleeding has definitely stopped. But you’re going to have quite an egg on your head in the morning.” He pulled the shower-damp hair away from the wound and held it in place so it wouldn’t drift into the opening.
“It already is morning,” Merlin said.
“So it is,” said Arthur. He let his fingers linger on Merlin’s head. He found it hard to believe that anyone would ever hurt Merlin. Merlin, who was always so cheerful and ready to pitch in and help with the band. Arthur’s heart broke when he realized that someone did this intentionally to him. It wasn’t just a drunken pub fight where someone says something that sets you both off, you throw a few punches and your mates separate you and sort you out when it’s over. Someone had intentionally set out to harm Merlin.
Arthur reached for a water bottle and cracked the cap open.
“Here you go, love,” he said. “This will help with the swelling.” He handed Merlin the two tablets and the water bottle. He watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed the pills and washed them down.
“You’re very kind to me,” Merlin said.
“Time for some ice,” Arthur smiled. He touched the ice-laden tea towel to Merlin’s head.
Merlin winced slightly.
“Here,” Arthur said. “It will be better if you hold it there yourself. Only you can tell how much pressure is too much on your head.”
Merlin’s hand brushed Arthur’s as he reached for the tea towel.
“Thanks, yes, that works better,” Merlin said as he rolled to his back and held the ice pack to his head.
“Are you hungry? I come bearing leftovers,” Arthur grinned.
“I’m famished,” said Merlin.
Arthur grabbed him a fork and they both tucked into the container of tortellini salad.
Apart from the banana he saw Merlin eat, and a couple slices of pizza at the warehouse, Arthur was surprised to learn that Merlin ate anything at all. When they finished off the container, Arthur took their forks to the kitchen for clean-up and left Merlin to change into his bedclothes.
***
“Why didn’t you call me?” Arthur asked, several minutes later as he sprawled on the bed. Merlin lay in the same position where Arthur had left him, save for the change into Arthur’s too large clothing and the hint of freshly brushed teeth in the air. “You should have called when things got out of hand.”
“By the time I realized just how out of hand they were, I had lost my mobile,” Merlin said, adjusting the ice pack. “Along with everything else.”
“Let me get this straight,” Arthur said. “You went to see Mordred?”
Merlin sighed and looked away. “I know. It was stupid.”
“No… no…” Arthur said. He was desperate to find out what happened that upset Merlin so much. He wanted to touch him, to assure him that he was there for him. But what could he do that wouldn’t seem like a gross violation of his person, which had obviously already suffered so much tonight?
“Your feet,” Arthur said. He slid to the end of the bed.
“What?” Merlin asked.
“You walked all the way from Mordred’s to where I saw you on the sidewalk? That had to be ten kilometres. Your feet must ache,” Arthur said. He let his palm skate along Merlin’s instep. “Can I?”
Merlin gave a soft moan and Arthur took that as an approval. He took Merlin’s foot in both hands and kneaded the firm flesh, still warm from the shower.
Merlin stretched luxuriantly, making little erm noises of pleasure.
“So, can you tell me what happened when you arrived at Mordred’s? Did you go there because you wanted to get back together with him?” Arthur asked as tentatively as he could, his thumbs smoothing circles over the delicate bones.
“Oh, no,” Merlin said. “That wasn’t my intention.” He bit his lip in frustration. “I’m not even sure what my intention was anymore.”
“That’s alright,” Arthur said. “You were very upset.”
“I was surprised he was home,” said Merlin.
“I noticed you were empty-handed when I picked you up,” Arthur said carefully. He skimmed his fingers down the length of Merlin’s sole. “Did you try to get some of your things back?”
“I tried,” Merlin said, his eyes tearing. “He took everything and burnt it.”
“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry,” Arthur whispered. He held his hands still against Merlin feet, one in each hand and just breathed for a while, wishing he could take some of Merlin’s pain away.
“Merlin, do you want me to stop touching you?” Arthur asked.
“God, no,” Merlin said. “That feels bloody fantastic.”
Arthur smiled and removed the ring from his forefinger. “Give me your hand,” he said.
Merlin reached toward him with the hand that wasn’t supporting the ice pack. Arthur slipped his ring onto Merlin’s finger. “Keep that safe for me for a bit, would you?” he asked before continuing his ministrations.
“Tell me more about what happened, how did you get that gash on your head?” Arthur asked gently.
“Oh,” Merlin shuddered as he smoothed his thumb along the polished silver. “He had burnt all my things, or so I thought-”
“What kinds of things did he burn?” Arthur asked, kneading each of Merlin’s long pale toes between his thumb and forefinger.
“Important things,” Merlin said. “A picture of my mum, all my money, school papers, everything I had saved in a box.
Merlin’s eyes teared up again. Arthur nearly stopped moving his hands when Merlin told the part about the picture of his mum, knowing how precious those memories of his dead mother were to him.
“He was a sick bastard, Merlin,” Arthur said without changing the rhythm of his hands. “I’m so glad you’re through with him. I couldn’t bear it if he kept hurting you.”
“I am through with him. You’ve got that right,” Merlin snuffled.
“You were very brave to go there, Merlin,” Arthur said. “Did you fight him?”
“Oh, that was the other thing,” Merlin said. “I remembered a scarf I kept in my bedside table. It belonged to my mother. It was nothing really, just a scrap of fabric. I got hold of it and he grabbed it from me and started strangling me with it.”
“Merlin,” Arthur said, stilling his hands. He abandoned Merlin’s feet altogether and crawled up the bed so his face hovered over Merlin’s. “Your neck,” he said. “Let me see your neck.”
***
“God, Merlin,” Arthur said. He kneeled beside him and gently tilted Merlin’s head from one side to the other, tracing his fingers over the bruised skin. “We should talk to my father in the morning about this.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Merlin whispered.
“You’re not disagreeing, are you?” Arthur asked. He stretched out on the bed and laid his head on his pillow next to Merlin’s, hoping Merlin would agree with him. Feeling bold, he left his palm where it rested on Merlin’s chest.
“I’m not going to argue with you about it,” Merlin said.
“Good. What else?” Arthur asked. “What else did he do to you? Did he hurt you in other ways?” Arthur was sure that Merlin would understand what he meant by his inflection. He held his breath while he waited for Merlin’s answer.
“He tried to,” Merlin said quietly, no mistake in Arthur’s mind that he understood the ramifications of the question.
Arthur was torn between wanting to permit Merlin some freedom of movement by removing his hand from his chest or kissing him senseless so he would forget all about the events that transpired earlier this evening. The warmth of Merlin’s skin beneath Arthur’s hand won Arthur’s favour, so he kept his hand in place, the steady beat of Merlin’s heart beneath his palm. Still, he would be remiss if he didn’t add some bite to his feelings.
“If he ever so much as looks at you again, Merlin,” Arthur’s breath was heated. “I’m going to make him pay.”
Merlin smiled softly. He let go of the tea towel, the ice long since melted into the fibres. He placed his hand over Arthur’s.
Arthur saw the flicker of unbridled passion in his eyes.
He leaned forward to brush his lips against Merlin’s when his mobile rang.
He let out a sigh and reached into his pocket.
“Oh, fuck,” he said, before he even answered the call.
“Gwaine! Shit!” Arthur slid off the bed and held a single finger up to Merlin, hoping he’d get the message that he would only be but a minute.
“I’ve found him. Merlin is with me,” Arthur said.
“Christ, I’ve been everywhere,” Gwaine said. “It’s like he vanished into thin air.”
“He was walking here,” Arthur said. “I know it sounds crazy.”
“Alright then, I’m happy to know he’s safe and sound. Tell the little bugger he had me worried sick, would you?”
“I will, Gwaine, I will,” Arthur said. “Shite, I’m sorry I forgot to call you. There’s a lot going on right now, so much on my mind about the tour, you know.”
“Well, mate, there’s a lot on my mind too. Listen, I was going to let it wait until tomorrow, but since you’re still awake- I was nosing around the warehouse looking for Merlin when who do you think I saw there?”
“I don’t know, Gwaine. Someone in the band?”
“Try the opening band,” said Gwaine. “Cenred. He came out of the warehouse like a boss. I don’t know how he would have gotten a key. The lock wasn’t broken. I laid low, didn’t see the sense in calling the police on him as it was just him by his lonesome.”
“What would he have been doing in our warehouse?” Arthur wondered out loud.
“I don’t know,” said Gwaine. “After he left, I went inside and took a look around. It didn’t look like anything had been touched.”
“Alright,” Arthur said. “Thanks for letting me know. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow and decide how we want to approach it.”
“You mean today?” Gwaine laughed.
“I guess so,” Arthur said looking at the ticking clock. “Gwaine, let’s put off today’s rehearsal. I think we all need some more sleep after tonight. You can tell the others, but I definitely won’t be in until late afternoon.”
“Alright mate, sleep well,” said Gwaine.
“You too,” Arthur said, ending the call.
Arthur silenced his mobile and stripped off his clothes. He brushed his teeth and slipped on a soft T-Shirt and a pair of boxers.
At the bedside where Merlin softly snored, he took the tea towel out of his hand and set it on the nightstand. With the lights dimmed, he pulled the quilt off the futon and spread it over Merlin’s tired body, curling up next to him while he slept.
Author: gwylliondream
Genre: Modern au
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 57,554
A/N: This was written for NaNoWriMo 2011. For additional notes, warnings, etc, please refer to Part 1 here.
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime! Thanks so much for reading!
“First, I want to look at your head,” Arthur said.
“It hurts, but I think it stopped bleeding,” Merlin sniffed. “Can you tell if it did?”
“Let me see,” Arthur said. “Maybe if you lie down, I can get a better look at it.”
Merlin crawled onto the crimson comforter and lay on his belly. The smooth expanse of his damp narrow back gave way to the towel-clad rise of his curvaceous rump.
“Here, use a pillow,” Arthur said, sliding a pillow under Merlin’s head. Merlin turned his face toward Arthur, his ear pressed to the pillow while Arthur sat on the bed to examine him. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to keep such things elevated anyway.”
Arthur poked gently at the lump that had formed on Merlin’s head. A slight gash had been crusted over by dried blood that had gotten loose in the steamy shower.
“Hold on a minute,” Arthur said.
He got up and went into the loo, returning with a pair of headache tablets, some white cotton gauze, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
“I’m afraid that I’m not much of a physician, mate,” Arthur said.
Merlin laughed softly, his cheeks rosy from the hot shower. “Under the circumstances, you’ll do,” he said.
Arthur dabbed the gauze in the peroxide and worked the fine strands of Merlin’s hair away from the wound.
“That’s a nice one,” he breathed, cleaning away the blood. “Does it hurt much?”
“Not as much as when I was getting my head slammed into the floor,” Merlin whispered.
Arthur grimaced and held the gauze fast against Merlin’s head, applying a bit of pressure. “I admire your sunny disposition about the ordeal. It can’t have been funny while it was happening,” Arthur said.
“No,” Merlin said. “That bleeding bit I could have done without.”
Arthur took the gauze away and examined its surface. “The bleeding has definitely stopped. But you’re going to have quite an egg on your head in the morning.” He pulled the shower-damp hair away from the wound and held it in place so it wouldn’t drift into the opening.
“It already is morning,” Merlin said.
“So it is,” said Arthur. He let his fingers linger on Merlin’s head. He found it hard to believe that anyone would ever hurt Merlin. Merlin, who was always so cheerful and ready to pitch in and help with the band. Arthur’s heart broke when he realized that someone did this intentionally to him. It wasn’t just a drunken pub fight where someone says something that sets you both off, you throw a few punches and your mates separate you and sort you out when it’s over. Someone had intentionally set out to harm Merlin.
Arthur reached for a water bottle and cracked the cap open.
“Here you go, love,” he said. “This will help with the swelling.” He handed Merlin the two tablets and the water bottle. He watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed the pills and washed them down.
“You’re very kind to me,” Merlin said.
“Time for some ice,” Arthur smiled. He touched the ice-laden tea towel to Merlin’s head.
Merlin winced slightly.
“Here,” Arthur said. “It will be better if you hold it there yourself. Only you can tell how much pressure is too much on your head.”
Merlin’s hand brushed Arthur’s as he reached for the tea towel.
“Thanks, yes, that works better,” Merlin said as he rolled to his back and held the ice pack to his head.
“Are you hungry? I come bearing leftovers,” Arthur grinned.
“I’m famished,” said Merlin.
Arthur grabbed him a fork and they both tucked into the container of tortellini salad.
Apart from the banana he saw Merlin eat, and a couple slices of pizza at the warehouse, Arthur was surprised to learn that Merlin ate anything at all. When they finished off the container, Arthur took their forks to the kitchen for clean-up and left Merlin to change into his bedclothes.
***
“Why didn’t you call me?” Arthur asked, several minutes later as he sprawled on the bed. Merlin lay in the same position where Arthur had left him, save for the change into Arthur’s too large clothing and the hint of freshly brushed teeth in the air. “You should have called when things got out of hand.”
“By the time I realized just how out of hand they were, I had lost my mobile,” Merlin said, adjusting the ice pack. “Along with everything else.”
“Let me get this straight,” Arthur said. “You went to see Mordred?”
Merlin sighed and looked away. “I know. It was stupid.”
“No… no…” Arthur said. He was desperate to find out what happened that upset Merlin so much. He wanted to touch him, to assure him that he was there for him. But what could he do that wouldn’t seem like a gross violation of his person, which had obviously already suffered so much tonight?
“Your feet,” Arthur said. He slid to the end of the bed.
“What?” Merlin asked.
“You walked all the way from Mordred’s to where I saw you on the sidewalk? That had to be ten kilometres. Your feet must ache,” Arthur said. He let his palm skate along Merlin’s instep. “Can I?”
Merlin gave a soft moan and Arthur took that as an approval. He took Merlin’s foot in both hands and kneaded the firm flesh, still warm from the shower.
Merlin stretched luxuriantly, making little erm noises of pleasure.
“So, can you tell me what happened when you arrived at Mordred’s? Did you go there because you wanted to get back together with him?” Arthur asked as tentatively as he could, his thumbs smoothing circles over the delicate bones.
“Oh, no,” Merlin said. “That wasn’t my intention.” He bit his lip in frustration. “I’m not even sure what my intention was anymore.”
“That’s alright,” Arthur said. “You were very upset.”
“I was surprised he was home,” said Merlin.
“I noticed you were empty-handed when I picked you up,” Arthur said carefully. He skimmed his fingers down the length of Merlin’s sole. “Did you try to get some of your things back?”
“I tried,” Merlin said, his eyes tearing. “He took everything and burnt it.”
“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry,” Arthur whispered. He held his hands still against Merlin feet, one in each hand and just breathed for a while, wishing he could take some of Merlin’s pain away.
“Merlin, do you want me to stop touching you?” Arthur asked.
“God, no,” Merlin said. “That feels bloody fantastic.”
Arthur smiled and removed the ring from his forefinger. “Give me your hand,” he said.
Merlin reached toward him with the hand that wasn’t supporting the ice pack. Arthur slipped his ring onto Merlin’s finger. “Keep that safe for me for a bit, would you?” he asked before continuing his ministrations.
“Tell me more about what happened, how did you get that gash on your head?” Arthur asked gently.
“Oh,” Merlin shuddered as he smoothed his thumb along the polished silver. “He had burnt all my things, or so I thought-”
“What kinds of things did he burn?” Arthur asked, kneading each of Merlin’s long pale toes between his thumb and forefinger.
“Important things,” Merlin said. “A picture of my mum, all my money, school papers, everything I had saved in a box.
Merlin’s eyes teared up again. Arthur nearly stopped moving his hands when Merlin told the part about the picture of his mum, knowing how precious those memories of his dead mother were to him.
“He was a sick bastard, Merlin,” Arthur said without changing the rhythm of his hands. “I’m so glad you’re through with him. I couldn’t bear it if he kept hurting you.”
“I am through with him. You’ve got that right,” Merlin snuffled.
“You were very brave to go there, Merlin,” Arthur said. “Did you fight him?”
“Oh, that was the other thing,” Merlin said. “I remembered a scarf I kept in my bedside table. It belonged to my mother. It was nothing really, just a scrap of fabric. I got hold of it and he grabbed it from me and started strangling me with it.”
“Merlin,” Arthur said, stilling his hands. He abandoned Merlin’s feet altogether and crawled up the bed so his face hovered over Merlin’s. “Your neck,” he said. “Let me see your neck.”
***
“God, Merlin,” Arthur said. He kneeled beside him and gently tilted Merlin’s head from one side to the other, tracing his fingers over the bruised skin. “We should talk to my father in the morning about this.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Merlin whispered.
“You’re not disagreeing, are you?” Arthur asked. He stretched out on the bed and laid his head on his pillow next to Merlin’s, hoping Merlin would agree with him. Feeling bold, he left his palm where it rested on Merlin’s chest.
“I’m not going to argue with you about it,” Merlin said.
“Good. What else?” Arthur asked. “What else did he do to you? Did he hurt you in other ways?” Arthur was sure that Merlin would understand what he meant by his inflection. He held his breath while he waited for Merlin’s answer.
“He tried to,” Merlin said quietly, no mistake in Arthur’s mind that he understood the ramifications of the question.
Arthur was torn between wanting to permit Merlin some freedom of movement by removing his hand from his chest or kissing him senseless so he would forget all about the events that transpired earlier this evening. The warmth of Merlin’s skin beneath Arthur’s hand won Arthur’s favour, so he kept his hand in place, the steady beat of Merlin’s heart beneath his palm. Still, he would be remiss if he didn’t add some bite to his feelings.
“If he ever so much as looks at you again, Merlin,” Arthur’s breath was heated. “I’m going to make him pay.”
Merlin smiled softly. He let go of the tea towel, the ice long since melted into the fibres. He placed his hand over Arthur’s.
Arthur saw the flicker of unbridled passion in his eyes.
He leaned forward to brush his lips against Merlin’s when his mobile rang.
He let out a sigh and reached into his pocket.
“Oh, fuck,” he said, before he even answered the call.
“Gwaine! Shit!” Arthur slid off the bed and held a single finger up to Merlin, hoping he’d get the message that he would only be but a minute.
“I’ve found him. Merlin is with me,” Arthur said.
“Christ, I’ve been everywhere,” Gwaine said. “It’s like he vanished into thin air.”
“He was walking here,” Arthur said. “I know it sounds crazy.”
“Alright then, I’m happy to know he’s safe and sound. Tell the little bugger he had me worried sick, would you?”
“I will, Gwaine, I will,” Arthur said. “Shite, I’m sorry I forgot to call you. There’s a lot going on right now, so much on my mind about the tour, you know.”
“Well, mate, there’s a lot on my mind too. Listen, I was going to let it wait until tomorrow, but since you’re still awake- I was nosing around the warehouse looking for Merlin when who do you think I saw there?”
“I don’t know, Gwaine. Someone in the band?”
“Try the opening band,” said Gwaine. “Cenred. He came out of the warehouse like a boss. I don’t know how he would have gotten a key. The lock wasn’t broken. I laid low, didn’t see the sense in calling the police on him as it was just him by his lonesome.”
“What would he have been doing in our warehouse?” Arthur wondered out loud.
“I don’t know,” said Gwaine. “After he left, I went inside and took a look around. It didn’t look like anything had been touched.”
“Alright,” Arthur said. “Thanks for letting me know. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow and decide how we want to approach it.”
“You mean today?” Gwaine laughed.
“I guess so,” Arthur said looking at the ticking clock. “Gwaine, let’s put off today’s rehearsal. I think we all need some more sleep after tonight. You can tell the others, but I definitely won’t be in until late afternoon.”
“Alright mate, sleep well,” said Gwaine.
“You too,” Arthur said, ending the call.
Arthur silenced his mobile and stripped off his clothes. He brushed his teeth and slipped on a soft T-Shirt and a pair of boxers.
At the bedside where Merlin softly snored, he took the tea towel out of his hand and set it on the nightstand. With the lights dimmed, he pulled the quilt off the futon and spread it over Merlin’s tired body, curling up next to him while he slept.
