Title: Blanket Scenario, Take Or Give A Sextillian
Rating: PG-13 at least
A/N: comment_fic: Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, snuggling. Incidentally, a sextillian is a thousand pentallion.
First the fire went out. And not only did it go out, but in a manner that looked as if that whole bucket-of-water tripping fiasco was on purpose. Sure, he was prone to tripping but he'd rarely seen Arthur trip before, unless someone outright tripped him or put something in his path.
Then there came the part where all Merlin could think of was Gaius lecturing him about fires and freezing to death. And of course, in these mountains, there were some nasty things lurking about. Fire would make them a bit safer. If the tinder for the fire hadn't been so thoroughly drenched, he might have been able to use magic subtly while Arthur was out doing something like nude bathing in freezing waters or fighting bears bare handed. Arthur's hobbies were pretty eclectic.
"Alright. There's only one option. To save heat, we have to strip down and share a blanket," Arthur said.
"Strip down? As in naked?" Merlin said – squeaked, really. He sounded about 12.
"Yes, naked. What else do you think? That is the proper way to share body heat," Arthur said.
"Instead of being safe in warm clothes I'm supposed to strip – so when the monsters come up, I'm naked, and with nothing but the protection of this flimsy blanket?"
"Just do it, Merlin," Arthur said wearily as he pulled off his shirt.
Merlin complied, because Arthur was his master, and well. At times he couldn't entirely blame him for the times when his plans made no sense whatsoever and Arthur fitfully clung to said plans despite them being utter rubbish. He was King Uther's child, after all. It was too much to hope that it had skipped generations. Of course this usually ended up with Merlin saving his arse, not cuddling up to it for warmth. Still, it was bound to happen eventually.
Arthur's clothes were placed in a neat, folded pile which Merlin himself folded. Merlin's were also in a neat folded pile, because Arthur was prissy at him until he made everything perfectly folded. Arthur could be downright obsessive about cleanliness at times. Or all the time, really. He was downright compulsive about it at times. Merlin couldn't help but think this was some disorder in his master.
The thing was, it was dark so there was nothing else to look at. Except maybe a wall. Well, at least the fire was out. Otherwise it'd go just as badly as that 'bathing together' time had been. Which had mostly been one huge exercise of don't look at his penis, don't look at his penis, don't look at his penis – oh sod it all you looked. And now he's smirking – That was of course, when it wasn't an exercise of don't admire his chest,don't admire his chest, don't admire his chest – ok that failed. Don't give in to the temptation to lick his chest –
Now he'd have to spend a night hoping Arthur slept with his back to him like a normal person, and not front to his back, because if not, there really was no hope for him.
Merlin closed his eyes. It wasn't long before he felt Arthur close, his hard, powerful body only made the mantra of Don't think of his penis, don't think of his penis, don't lick his chest, don't lick his – return with a sudden force. Merlin had to bite his lower lip to keep from moaning.
He felt Arthur's arm about him, and felt Arthur nuzzle his neck in contentment. This all seemed very suspicious.
"...are you using this as an excuse to snuggle?"
"No. I'm using this as an excuse not to freeze to death."
"Then why is your hand across my midriff?"
"Do you see another place I could put it? We're naked and under a small blanket. On the other side are a bunch of sharp rocks. Do you think those would make a better armrest? Because if you have any suggestions I'm open to them."
"No. I, I don't have any."
"Well then. Get to sleep."
And yet sleep was the last thing on his mind. Oh, he was ever so fucked in this situation. Literally, even.