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Fic: Seaside summers
Title: Seaside summers
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Gwen
Rating: PG-13
Length: 800
Contains: infidelity
Summary: Summer rolls around, and Merlin takes his secrets and hiding in his room, and like every year Arthur promises that this one is the last.
Notes: Originally written for summerpornathon
The gulls were out on the pier, screeching for the chips Arthur had in the bit of paper, circling.
"Bloody noisy buggers," he said through a mouthful of potato chip mush, then took his bag when a particularly forward gull landed on the arm of his bench and tap-tapped closer, gurgling sounds in its throat as its beak wavered back and forth. "See if I'll have any bread for you again," he muttered to himself.
A few youths were about on their skateboards, music coming from a stereo they'd brought along, t-shirts and shorts and gleaming sweat in the first sun.
It wasn't the time of the year, if Arthur was honest, not for his cough and the way the cold settled in his bones more, but the last frost should have come and gone weeks before and if he'd stayed another day longer holed up with Merlin -- Merlin who locked himself in his room when he needed time to think, Merlin who could rage and yell quietly without ever saying a word, and Merlin who more often than not just looked at Arthur as if he was supposed to make something of that and then took his secrets back to his room and his side of the bed, keeping it quiet and private, all his bloody secrets -- it'd have driven him right mad.
He balled up his paper, leaving the rest of the chips to the gulls.
"It's the last time," he said after the knock, after the look hello for the first time the second, third, maybe fourth spring now. The summer homes never saw guests during the cold months he spent watching the sports and watching Merlin and dreaming of the adventures they'd dreamt up when they were younger, never thinking they'd be the old men not-talking on the pier, not-talking in their bed either, not-touching, not-anything. "It's the last time," Arthur said, like he did every year, when Gwen opened the door to him, head leaned to the doorframe and her mouth already forming the, "Oh Arthur," before he'd finished all his reasonings and his need.
They'd met on the pier when Merlin had been particularly infuriating and Arthur had yelled himself hoarse at a closed door. Gwen had asked for a grocer's and Arthur had showed her the one in the street behind the first row of seafront houses. They'd walked to her summer home, and she'd smiled and held his hand, and he'd have kissed her and swept her off her feet but he hadn't then, not quite.
"It's always the last time with you," Gwen said now as she opened the door. Fresh flowers were out on the table, and a few leaves had caught in Gwen's hair.
Arthur stepped closer, catching her hands in his and her lips with his and he pushed her up against the table, relishing her laugh and the way her hand slid from his hip to his chest to his shoulder, holding on.
"It's spring again," Arthur said as his hand wandered up her thigh and under her skirt. "I was afraid you wouldn't be back."
The first time he'd kissed her in her back garden, amidst flowers and a few of her cats streaking about their feet, and the first time he'd pushed into her hadn't been much later on her sofa with the television running on a program Arthur never watched. Her eyes had lit up, her face so open as he'd pushed into her and she'd been heat and love around him.
"I promise it's the last time. I promise," Arthur said now. He pushed her knickers aside and rubbed his fingers along her lips and clit, tips circling to push into her, and she laughed when it took him a few tries with the lube and he still spilled it over them both. Her house was sunlit when they shagged like people half their age, her laughter and her soft kisses as she stroked him hard enough to slip inside her, as she moved with him.
The gulls were cackling when he was walking home later. The last kiss, the last time he'd said the last time still on his lips, and Merlin, Merlin sat at the kitchen table staring out the window when Arthur walked back into their home.
"Tea?" Merlin asked and moved towards the kettle, his face not saying much. "You've been in the flowers again," he added and fussed with Arthur's hair.
Merlin pulled a few petals from Arthur's head and looked at them, then kissed him fast and dry and for a moment the glimpse of a younger Merlin shone in his eyes, the one who might have told Arthur of his secrets, before it went away again and Merlin was just Merlin, hidden away.
"Tea, thanks," Arthur said and sat in Merlin's chair, the wood still warm.
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Gwen
Rating: PG-13
Length: 800
Contains: infidelity
Summary: Summer rolls around, and Merlin takes his secrets and hiding in his room, and like every year Arthur promises that this one is the last.
Notes: Originally written for summerpornathon
The gulls were out on the pier, screeching for the chips Arthur had in the bit of paper, circling.
"Bloody noisy buggers," he said through a mouthful of potato chip mush, then took his bag when a particularly forward gull landed on the arm of his bench and tap-tapped closer, gurgling sounds in its throat as its beak wavered back and forth. "See if I'll have any bread for you again," he muttered to himself.
A few youths were about on their skateboards, music coming from a stereo they'd brought along, t-shirts and shorts and gleaming sweat in the first sun.
It wasn't the time of the year, if Arthur was honest, not for his cough and the way the cold settled in his bones more, but the last frost should have come and gone weeks before and if he'd stayed another day longer holed up with Merlin -- Merlin who locked himself in his room when he needed time to think, Merlin who could rage and yell quietly without ever saying a word, and Merlin who more often than not just looked at Arthur as if he was supposed to make something of that and then took his secrets back to his room and his side of the bed, keeping it quiet and private, all his bloody secrets -- it'd have driven him right mad.
He balled up his paper, leaving the rest of the chips to the gulls.
"It's the last time," he said after the knock, after the look hello for the first time the second, third, maybe fourth spring now. The summer homes never saw guests during the cold months he spent watching the sports and watching Merlin and dreaming of the adventures they'd dreamt up when they were younger, never thinking they'd be the old men not-talking on the pier, not-talking in their bed either, not-touching, not-anything. "It's the last time," Arthur said, like he did every year, when Gwen opened the door to him, head leaned to the doorframe and her mouth already forming the, "Oh Arthur," before he'd finished all his reasonings and his need.
They'd met on the pier when Merlin had been particularly infuriating and Arthur had yelled himself hoarse at a closed door. Gwen had asked for a grocer's and Arthur had showed her the one in the street behind the first row of seafront houses. They'd walked to her summer home, and she'd smiled and held his hand, and he'd have kissed her and swept her off her feet but he hadn't then, not quite.
"It's always the last time with you," Gwen said now as she opened the door. Fresh flowers were out on the table, and a few leaves had caught in Gwen's hair.
Arthur stepped closer, catching her hands in his and her lips with his and he pushed her up against the table, relishing her laugh and the way her hand slid from his hip to his chest to his shoulder, holding on.
"It's spring again," Arthur said as his hand wandered up her thigh and under her skirt. "I was afraid you wouldn't be back."
The first time he'd kissed her in her back garden, amidst flowers and a few of her cats streaking about their feet, and the first time he'd pushed into her hadn't been much later on her sofa with the television running on a program Arthur never watched. Her eyes had lit up, her face so open as he'd pushed into her and she'd been heat and love around him.
"I promise it's the last time. I promise," Arthur said now. He pushed her knickers aside and rubbed his fingers along her lips and clit, tips circling to push into her, and she laughed when it took him a few tries with the lube and he still spilled it over them both. Her house was sunlit when they shagged like people half their age, her laughter and her soft kisses as she stroked him hard enough to slip inside her, as she moved with him.
The gulls were cackling when he was walking home later. The last kiss, the last time he'd said the last time still on his lips, and Merlin, Merlin sat at the kitchen table staring out the window when Arthur walked back into their home.
"Tea?" Merlin asked and moved towards the kettle, his face not saying much. "You've been in the flowers again," he added and fussed with Arthur's hair.
Merlin pulled a few petals from Arthur's head and looked at them, then kissed him fast and dry and for a moment the glimpse of a younger Merlin shone in his eyes, the one who might have told Arthur of his secrets, before it went away again and Merlin was just Merlin, hidden away.
"Tea, thanks," Arthur said and sat in Merlin's chair, the wood still warm.