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Everything's a mess.
Since Morgana returned to Camelot.
Magical props were found in Arthur's chambers, and Gwen was accused of involvement with sorcery. She was thrown into the dungeon and was about to be sentenced to death. She is Merlin's oldest and best friend since he arrived in Camelot, and he cannot bear to see her unjustly die. In addition, Merlin is certain that if loses Gwen, Arthur - the man he's been pining for - will suffer, and the last thing Merlin wants is for Arthur to suffer.
So he decides to fabricate a sorcerer who happens to show up in Arthur's chambers, happens to be setting up the same magical props, and happens to be caught by Arthur.
In order to keep the Crown Prince from recognizing him, he took a disguise magic potion and changed his appearance. He made himself look younger - like the age he was when he first arrived in Camelot - his body was smaller, not too gangly, the lines of his cheekbones were softer, his voice became thinner, and he even changed his hair blonde, and long. Standing in front of the mirror with Gaius, they both marveled at Merlin's new look. The only thing the potion couldn't change was his eyes, and he hoped the royal prat wouldn't notice based on that alone. Well, considering how many times he had used magic right under Arthur's nose without the bloke knowing anything about it, he didn't think Arthur could.
Or would he want him to find out?
Hoping he would find out everything he had done without asking for anything in return. Hoping he would know that he had loved him all along. Hoping to receive his gratitude, his love.
Merlin didn't know. All he knew was that the next moment, he had slipped into the Crown Prince's chambers.
As he hears Arthur's footsteps coming, he pulls a pre-prepared magical prop from his arms and slips it under Arthur's pillow. As planned, his furtive actions are discovered, and Arthur points his sword at him, questioning if he's a sorcorer. Merlin admits it and makes up a random name to pass it off—damn, he should have thought of a better name earlier, instead of some ridiculous names like Dragoon the Great—Arthur declares him arrested, and Merlin rushes out the door, drinks the antidote at the next corner, and turning back into the clumsy servant.
His plans always go wrong.
Yes, Gaius had warned him many times about how disguise potion is extremely difficult magic to control and risky. Hell, sometimes he really should listen to what Gaius says.
So he was caught by Arthur, escorted to Uther - he tried to ignore the part where Gaius raised his eyebrows at him - then, as expected, he was sentenced to death.
Well, at least Gwen is released now, part of his plans still working.
Merlin was alone in the damp dungeon, looking through the small window to see the pyre had been set up in the courtyard. Oh, he's going to die. He thought, as if it were happening to someone else.
At that moment, the door of the dungeon was opened with a loud clang of metal on metal, and Merlin automatically turned his head. There was no telling who would visit him on death row.
The man standing outside was someone who could never be here at this moment.
The Crown Prince, Arthur.
Merlin was stunned, but Arthur just walked in without a word, pulling him out with a firm grip on his wrist.
"What are you doing?" Merlin followed Arthur, asking in surprise. It was dark on the way, with Arthur holding a torch in one hand and pulling his wrist with the other. Hot, wet.
"Shut up and come with me if you want to live," Arthur didn't turn around as he hissed and lowered his voice. Dodging patrolling knights and guards along the way. Merlin wondered if that was how he helped Mordred escape then.
They leave the dungeon and make their way to a clearing behind the castle where Merlin often summons Kilgharrah. There is a horse tethered there now, which he recognizes as Arthur's.
Arthur mounted his horse first, reaching his right hand out to Merlin, as if waiting. Merlin hesitated and looked at him. Arthur rolled his eyes, "Come on, before I change my mind." Merlin grabbed the hand, and it forcefully pulled him onto the horse - God, his back was pressing against Arthur's chest, and they were sitting on the same horse! - Merlin, pretending not to be flustered, said, with mock composure, "So what's this about?"
"I know you're a druid, I've seen your kind before." Arthur says - Merlin raises an eyebrow, deciding not to tell Arthur the truth - "I'll send you to your camp. As long as you promise never to set foot in Camelot again."
"You trust me? I put magic props in your bed, I could have killed you."
"So far, no harm has been done." said Arthur, "I don't want to kill an innocent boy. So now tell me, where exactly do you live?"
Merlin sighs and casually points in the direction of a Druids camp. Technically, he didn't live there, but the Druids should help him cover it up.
The look on the druid leader's face when he and Arthur showed up at the camp at the same time was quite amusing. Merlin almost choked when he said, "Uh... well, I should say thank you for sending Emrys back."
"So your name is actually Emrys?" asked Arthur with an impish grin.
Merlin glared at him.
The druids warmly invited Arthur to stay at the camp, which he was reluctant to do, but given how late it was already, and the possibility of ferocious monsters and venomous spiders appearing in the forest. Arthur ended up staying. You could tell he was uncomfortable in a bunch of druids with magic, but his good breeding kept him from showing it in his behavior. Eventually, Merlin put his arm against Arthur's arm, signaling that he could go to sleep in his tent, "I think you'd rather be alone with me in the tent than surrounded by a group of evil sorcerers here."
Arthur's tense body finally relaxed, and he chuckled, "Not everyone is evil."
"Oh really?" Merlin rolled his eyes. "I thought you Pendragons just liked to burn everyone."
"Not me."
"Whatever you say."
They bantered with each other for a few moments until it suddenly occurred to Merlin that he was not the prince's servant right now, and he immediately stopped the banter.
"What's wrong?" asked Arthur.
"Nothing."
The silence between them was not comfortable.
Arthur sighed, stood up, and walked into the tent, which the Druid leader said belonged to Emrys,was one of the most spacious and cozy in the camp, clearly not an environment meant for a teenage boy to live alone. Merlin really should teach these Druids how to lie, even though his lying skills are quite poor.
Fortunately, Arthur didn't seem to be suspicious, and even if he was, at least he didn't ask. They put out the light and lay down on the mats—don't get the wrong idea, not the same one—Merlin closed his eyes, unable to fall asleep. Listening to the steady breathing coming from Arthur's direction, he kept thinking, Arthur was sleeping beside him, the man he wanted most was right next to him, that if he reached out, he could touch him, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur—
How many times had he slept with Arthur? On the hard floors of his childhood home in Ealdor, on the damp cold ground while camping in the forest, on the hard and cold ground in the cave... too many for him to even count. But he could never truly sleep with Arthur. Maybe in the future Arthur would get married, to Gwen, or anyone, and Arthur bed them, but he could never be one of them.
God, he really wanted Arthur so badly.
But as long as he was Merlin, he could never have him.
And now, he's not, he's just a Druid boy named Emrys, perhaps never to enter Camelot again in the future, never to see Arthur again. They're just strangers who have met once.
Maybe it's his only chance.
He didn't know when he had leaned over, and by the time he responded, he had climbed on top of Arthur, his lips pressing against those of the man beneath him. Arthur hadn't quite woken up yet, seemingly just responding to Merlin's kiss out of habit. They were so close, he had never been this close to the man before.
Arthur groaned, kissing deeper, more passionately, still not opening his eyes, but a large hand had lifted to wrap around the back of Merlin's head, his fingers digging deep into Merlin's hair - now blonde because of the potion - they gasped for breath between kisses, then deeper into the next one, as if none of them could spare to stop kissing. Merlin straddled Arthur, grinding against each other close to the hips, feeling the man beneath him growing hard - they were both hard.
He used magic to remove their breeches - he was a Druid boy now, anyway - to grasp the man's cock, a satisfied moan spilled from Arthur's mouth, and Arthur didn't open his eyes until Merlin ended the kiss of his own accord. They were both panting.
"Why'd you stop?" Arthur asked, his blue eyes hazy, still looking unsatisfied.
"I'm going to ride you," Merlin announced, then lifted his hips slightly, holding Arthur's cock in one hand and aiming the head at his hole, some seeds dripping out of the front of his cock, just enough to provide lubrication. Determined, Merlin closed his eyes, bit his lip, and lowered his body as slowly as he could. He could feel his hole being slowly stretched, the cock sliding into his body—it was so wonderful, so amazing—as if his body had never been complete until this moment.
By the time he had accepted all of Arthur, he was sweating and panting, and collapsed onto Arthur, who is kissing him lightly on the corner of his mouth, as if in encouragement, or anything else, and no matter what, Merlin was grateful for his patience in waiting.
Then Merlin began to move, and Arthur's hands somehow climbed to his chest, twisting his nipples. He could feel those calloused hands roaming over his body, his hips, his thighs, caressing, making Merlin so happy that he felt as if he were on a floating cloud. After all these years, he was finally getting what he wanted.
Arthur sat up, holding Merlin almost completely in his arms. His hands pinched Merlin's ass, so hard that his nails seemed to be embedded in his skin. Merlin whimpered, but not from pain. He was sure he'd get a pair of Arthur's hand shapes on his ass the next day, but he didn't care, he wanted to remember this moment forever.
"I'm close." Arthur's lips pressed to Merlin's ear, murmuring, giving a warning, his voice low, hoarse, and dangerous, like a trapped lion.
Merlin put his hands on Arthur's shoulders, supporting himself, moving his hips up and down as fast as he could. Each time he sank down, he took Arthur's cock in completely, his ass hitting Arthur's scrotum, making a popping sound.
"Ar-Arthur! Arrr-" Merlin couldn't help but scream, it wasn't his familiar voice of himself and it felt a little strange. Arthur kissed him on the lips at once, fiercely, his voice was taken away from him, leaving him with ragged gasps and moans.
"Mmmmhmmm—" he came, going limp in Arthur's arms, grateful to be held up so he wouldn't fall, he had no strength left.
Arthur's body tensed as he ended the deep, long kiss, then held Merlin close. At the moment when Merlin felt the warm liquid splash inside him, he heard the man's moan in his ear.
"Merlin—"
Caught off guard by the suddenness of his own name, Merlin was stunned as he pulled away from the still panting Arthur until he could look him straight in the face. He saw his blue eyes, which were also looking at him.
"What did you call me?" Merlin blurted out.
Arthur didn't say anything, he just wanted to lean in to continue kissing him. But Merlin didn't give him the chance, he urgently needed to know the answer. "Did I just hear you call me-"
"Merlin." Arthur repeated, calmly. "Yes, I called you Merlin."
"Y-you know...?"
"Yes, I know who you are. You have his eyes-" Arthur began, fondly. "Honestly, I was just suspicious at first, but then in my contact with you, I was convinced. You know, your disguise really bad. But after seeing these Druids, I think you might still have a chance."
"I think you should know a couple things about me, first, I'm not a druid."
"I know," said Arthur, "you are Merlin of Ealdor, you are my Merlin."
My Merlin. Merlin felt his heart skip a beat as Arthur uttered those words.
"Second, I, I have-" Merlin couldn't say it.
"Magic," Arthur added, sweetly smiling and not angry at all, "I know that one too. See, didn't I just tell you, you're really bad at disguises. "
"Well, the third thing is-"
Arthur interrupted him again. "-is that you've been pining for me all the times."
"Are you going to let me talk or not?" Merlin rolled his eyes.
"Am I wrong?" Arthur was wearing his smug face again.
"You're right." And Merlin loved him like that.
"Well, then, there're also a couple things you should know about me." Arthur raised a finger, "First, I don't know what the hell is going on in your stupid little head, but I'm pretty sure I don't love Guinevere."
"I'm not stupid," Merlin retorted.
Arthur smirked and raised a second finger. "Second, the very same one is exactly the man I loved. So I'm asking him to think long and hard before making future self-sacrifices; I'm not very interested in robbing prison."
"Okay, okay, what about the third thing?" Merlin puts on a say whatever you want look.
"And the third thing is," Arthur pulled in, his forehead pressed against his, "I can't wait to do what we just did again with the real you."
Merlin smiled, "As you wish, my lord," he said.