Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC, and my heart belongs to Merlin.

Author's Note: Okay, so this is pure crack. I'm not gonna be home for a while, I'm staying with a family friend and helping out with babies and junk. So I decided I should be something up real quick. It shows that it's 'real quick.' Also, it was hardly checked over for errors, so, sorry about that.

Summary: Merlin's in love. Arthur's drunk. Hilarity (?) ensues. YUP.

Warnings: UH. Bump n' grind, I guess. I probably could have gotten off (snigger) with just a 'T' rating, but I played it safe.


The first words Arthur ever said to Merlin were, 'We should totally make out' and they were promptly followed by 'blurb' and 'gurgle' and 'zzz.'

And that was how Merlin found himself falling in love with a blond prat fraternity pledge at his first ever college party.

It, perhaps, wasn't the most conventional way to fall in love. And it probably wasn't even love love. More like, 'whoa, this frat pledge is totally hot and inexplicably totally into me, and I think it's love.' And then Merlin drew little mental sparkly hearts all around that thought and pinned it to his mental cork board.

The love was pretty much short lived, though, when the 'blurb' and 'gurgle' turned into drool all over Merlin's new shirt. Merlin didn't know how to get drool out of his shirt, but he didn't think it'd be easy without a washer or a dryer or a sink of his own. The blond prat mumbled something that was entirely too wet and lewd against the side of Merlin's neck. Merlin scrunched his nose up and discreetly and gently tried to shove the drunkard away from him.

But the blond just clung tighter, drooled more, and muttered lewdl-ier. Merlin felt heat rising to his cheeks, and he brought a hand up to cover his horrified face. His other arm was being squashed by the big brute's butt, and was falling asleep. Somebody snickered as they wandered past the two on the couch. Another one whistled, and Merlin wanted to kick out at whoever it was.

After ten minutes of this humiliation, he formed a plan. He placed his hand firmly on the blond's face, and began to surreptitiously lean away from the drooling pledge. This worked, until Merlin's other hand was freed, and he wobbled slightly and fell sideways on the couch, and the stranger whom Merlin fancied he loved, but didn't love so much anymore, sprawled out on Merlin side, crushing his rather delicate ribs.

The stranger stuffed his face between Merlin's back at the couch, and muttered something about sharp and pointy cheekbones, lethal weapons, and raisins. Merlin struggled to move the bulk of muscle off of him, but it was pretty much a futile effort from the start. So he made do by shifting around so that he was also laying on his stomach, with the blond stranger laying belly down on his back.

Merlin turned his face towards the couch to avoid having to look at anybody else at the party and face his embarrassment. He tried valiantly once more to shove the blond off of him, and then settled in for the long hall and contemplated what had lead him into this situation.


"Come on, Merlin. It won't be bad," Gwen pleaded. Merlin just scowled and threw a grape at her.

"I swear it'll be okay," Gwen promised. Merlin through the stem of the grapes he was eating at her.

"Lance promises it's not as bad as you think," Gwen just didn't give up, did she?

"Why do you want me to go so bad?" Merlin asked, still scowling at his now empty bowl of grapes.

"You are a lonely, sad, pathetic little—"

"Whoa! Hey! I get it. Merlin is lonely. Merlin's a buzzkill. I've heard it before. But why a frat party with togas and keg stands and horrible drinking games?"

"You watch too many movies. It's not going to be like that. And besides, it's like, a gay frat, so you'll be right at home."

"Huh," Merlin arched his brows at her. He knew there really wasn't such a thing as an all gay frat. "So you're boyfriend is gay?"

He got a face full of grapes returned to him with vengeance.


And then Gwen had dressed him up in a new shirt and new pants, that were too tight, and pushed him into the party and left to go snog her gay boyfriend Lancelot. And Merlin was having a grand time sitting on the couch and sipping casually at some kind of alcoholic drink before prat-face pledge came and propositioned him, then fell asleep on him. And, by the way, he totally never followed through with his proposition and Merlin was disappointed with the love of his life. Whose name he didn't even know.

Whatever, names weren't really important. From his vantage point on his stomach, he could see the prat's face if he turned his head at a painful angle. But he liked looking at the prat's face, even if it was a little stupid looking. And Merlin kind of smiled, and kind of grimaced, when the pratface mumbled unintelligible things. And then Merlin felt an odd kind of pointy poking him on the back of his thigh.

And then drunk blond pratface frat pledge began shifting and moaning. And Merlin was horrified and shocked and disgusted and maybe just a little bit turned on. But maybe he was also just a little bit drunk, also. And now big doofus prat pledge was grinding against his arse and panting into the back of Merlin's neck and groaning like a freakin' pornstar. And there were still people around. Though most of them were too drunk to notice by now.

Merlin was embarrassingly hard and bright red when the pratty hunk of drunkenness tensed and groaned and finished against Merlin, making a mess of his own pants. And Merlin's cheeks were aflame, and Merlin commended himself for thinking of such a poetic word like 'aflame' when he was drunk and hard.

"Whassername?" blond-prat-frat-pledge (try saying that ten times fast) asked.

"Er…what?" Merlin replied.

The prat smacked his lips and sighed, as if it were the most tiresome thing to have to ask somebody name after humping them at a party. "Your name?"

"Uh. Merlin," the prat snorted, then pushed himself up, but not away. With some manhandling he had Merlin on his back.

"That's a stupid name," he commented, flopping back down onto Merlin's chest once they were situated as if he planned on going right back to sleep.

Merlin was agape (two poetic points for Merlin!) with the turn of events. "Well…that's a stupid…" Merlin flailed around for something stupid about the stranger, "face!" Oh well, couldn't win them all.

The strange blond who just got off against Merlin's arse was quiet for a long time, and Merlin though maybe he had fallen back asleep, which was really a shame because Merlin was still very hard and kind of thirsty. "…Arthur."


"'m Arthur, jissincase you were wondering."

"Oh," Merlin replied.

"We should totally make out now."

And they totally did. And it totally was love.