Changing Arthur's Sheets: Merlin-Style
Arthur discovered one morning, just as he arrived at the training field, that, much to his irritation, he hadn’t brought his gloves with him. They weren’t lost. He knew exactly where they were - lying on the table, in his room, just where Merlin had left them. He’d even said your gloves are on the table, make sure you pick them up. And Arthur had rolled his eyes, and assured Merlin that he wasn’t an idiot, could remember to pick up his own damn gloves.
Which made this all his own fault. Which meant he wouldn’t be able to shout at Merlin for it. Which made it so much worse, somehow.
He stomped along the corridor in a way that was most un-princely, muttering curses under his breath, and almost didn’t hear the sound emanating from his room.
He stopped short, fell silent, and listened.
It was a soft, steady thumping, a sound he couldn’t quite place. He couldn’t imagine what could be making it. But the thought that Merlin might be responsible for it lightened his mood rather more than he’d care to admit.
He pushed the door open - the sound grew louder - marched across the room, and flung open his bedroom door.
And stared.
Merlin let out a shocked yelp, leapt off the bed, and stumbled down onto the floor, gasping for breath.
“Merlin - what on earth are you doing?” Arthur snapped.
“I wasn’t!” Merlin gabbled. “I mean - nothing! I wasn’t doing anything!”
“Were you…” Arthur looked from bed to manservant and back again. “Were you jumping on my bed?”
“No,” said Merlin. But his guilty tone would have given him away even if Arthur hadn’t seen it with his own eyes.
“But… why?” said Arthur. “Are you just determined to make a mess of my sheets? Is that what it is?”
“Well… because it’s fun,” said Merlin. “And the sheets needed changing anyway. I was going to do that soon. Honest. And I took my shoes off! Look!” Arthur looked at his feet. He wiggled his toes.
He rolled his eyes, marched across the room, and poked Merlin sharply in the chest. “You really are an idiot,” he said. “And a child. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“You never have before,” muttered Merlin, avoiding Arthur’s gaze.
“Never have - how often do you do this?” snapped Arthur.
“Every time I change the sheets,” said Merlin. He took a deep breath, and looked the Prince in the eye. “Look, it doesn’t do any harm, and I just… couldn’t resist!”
“Oh, grow up, Merlin,” said Arthur. “And get on with changing the sheets.”
Merlin’s brow furrowed, as if thinking (though Arthur doubted he was capable of such an act). Then he grinned, and jumped back onto the bed.
“What are you doing?” said Arthur. Merlin bounced, once.
“Proving my point,” he said. He bounced again. And again. “Look like fun?”
“No - Merlin, get down from there this instant!” Arthur hissed. Merlin just grinned, and jumped higher, lifting his legs right up into the air.
And some incredibly childish part of Arthur really did want to join him.
“Don’t you ever want to just, y’know, let go?” said Merlin.
“There are better ways to do that,” said Arthur, folding his arms across his chest. “And all should be done on your own time, Merlin. Not when you’re meant to be changing my sheets.”
“I’ve got - plenty of - time,” Merlin said between leaps. “It’ll - get done. Now c’mon.”
“What?” said Arthur. Merlin held out a hand, and motioned for him to join in.
He hesitated, shifted around nervously on the spot, turned to stare at the door, as if someone might somehow be watching… then gave up, and gave in.
“Alright,” he said, lifting one leg to tug off his boot. “Fine. But just this once!”
Merlin laughed, and bounced away from him to the other side of the bed. Making room.
Arthur climbed up after him, and stood there for a moment. Standing on his bed - rather than lying or sitting - felt very strange. He hadn’t done this since he was a child. And even then there’d always been someone to tell him to stop. He allowed himself a few tentative bounces.
Merlin grinned. “C’mon, Arthur!” he said, grabbing his arm, pulling him up.
And Arthur found himself jumping properly, right up, changing the rhythm - thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud.
He was enjoying this much more than he cared to admit.
But Merlin, of course, was insistent that he do so anyway.
“You’re enjoying this,” he said. “C’mon. Admit it.”
“No,” said Arthur with a shake of his head. Merlin nodded gleefully. “No!”
“Embrace your inner child!” said Merlin, leaping up into the air.
Arthur rolled his eyes, and tackled him when he landed. But Merlin was evidently in a particular good mood; upon being pinned to the bed, he just laughed, and rolled them over so he was on top. He held Arthur’s hands above his head. “Admit it!” he said. “Sometimes you just need to - ”
But Arthur just grinned, broke his hold with almost no effort at all, and rolled them over again. “What were you saying?”
“Let go,” said Merlin. He stuck out his tongue.
They were both breathing heavily, now. Merlin’s fringe was slightly damp with sweat. It was clinging to his forehead. And their bodies were pressed right up against each other, legs all tangled up. Merlin was warm and tense beneath him, face only inches away, and it felt better than he’d care to admit.
“I have to get back to the training field,” he said, voice slightly hoarse. He let go of Merlin’s hands, and sat up.
“I have to change the sheets,” Merlin said, pulling himself out from under Arthur.
“Well, you should get on with that, then,” said the Prince.
“Yeah, you too,” said his manservant.
They exchanged a long, bewildered glance.
Then they rolled away from each other, scrambled off the bed, and grabbed for their shoes.
Which made this all his own fault. Which meant he wouldn’t be able to shout at Merlin for it. Which made it so much worse, somehow.
He stomped along the corridor in a way that was most un-princely, muttering curses under his breath, and almost didn’t hear the sound emanating from his room.
He stopped short, fell silent, and listened.
It was a soft, steady thumping, a sound he couldn’t quite place. He couldn’t imagine what could be making it. But the thought that Merlin might be responsible for it lightened his mood rather more than he’d care to admit.
He pushed the door open - the sound grew louder - marched across the room, and flung open his bedroom door.
And stared.
Merlin let out a shocked yelp, leapt off the bed, and stumbled down onto the floor, gasping for breath.
“Merlin - what on earth are you doing?” Arthur snapped.
“I wasn’t!” Merlin gabbled. “I mean - nothing! I wasn’t doing anything!”
“Were you…” Arthur looked from bed to manservant and back again. “Were you jumping on my bed?”
“No,” said Merlin. But his guilty tone would have given him away even if Arthur hadn’t seen it with his own eyes.
“But… why?” said Arthur. “Are you just determined to make a mess of my sheets? Is that what it is?”
“Well… because it’s fun,” said Merlin. “And the sheets needed changing anyway. I was going to do that soon. Honest. And I took my shoes off! Look!” Arthur looked at his feet. He wiggled his toes.
He rolled his eyes, marched across the room, and poked Merlin sharply in the chest. “You really are an idiot,” he said. “And a child. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“You never have before,” muttered Merlin, avoiding Arthur’s gaze.
“Never have - how often do you do this?” snapped Arthur.
“Every time I change the sheets,” said Merlin. He took a deep breath, and looked the Prince in the eye. “Look, it doesn’t do any harm, and I just… couldn’t resist!”
“Oh, grow up, Merlin,” said Arthur. “And get on with changing the sheets.”
Merlin’s brow furrowed, as if thinking (though Arthur doubted he was capable of such an act). Then he grinned, and jumped back onto the bed.
“What are you doing?” said Arthur. Merlin bounced, once.
“Proving my point,” he said. He bounced again. And again. “Look like fun?”
“No - Merlin, get down from there this instant!” Arthur hissed. Merlin just grinned, and jumped higher, lifting his legs right up into the air.
And some incredibly childish part of Arthur really did want to join him.
“Don’t you ever want to just, y’know, let go?” said Merlin.
“There are better ways to do that,” said Arthur, folding his arms across his chest. “And all should be done on your own time, Merlin. Not when you’re meant to be changing my sheets.”
“I’ve got - plenty of - time,” Merlin said between leaps. “It’ll - get done. Now c’mon.”
“What?” said Arthur. Merlin held out a hand, and motioned for him to join in.
He hesitated, shifted around nervously on the spot, turned to stare at the door, as if someone might somehow be watching… then gave up, and gave in.
“Alright,” he said, lifting one leg to tug off his boot. “Fine. But just this once!”
Merlin laughed, and bounced away from him to the other side of the bed. Making room.
Arthur climbed up after him, and stood there for a moment. Standing on his bed - rather than lying or sitting - felt very strange. He hadn’t done this since he was a child. And even then there’d always been someone to tell him to stop. He allowed himself a few tentative bounces.
Merlin grinned. “C’mon, Arthur!” he said, grabbing his arm, pulling him up.
And Arthur found himself jumping properly, right up, changing the rhythm - thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud.
He was enjoying this much more than he cared to admit.
But Merlin, of course, was insistent that he do so anyway.
“You’re enjoying this,” he said. “C’mon. Admit it.”
“No,” said Arthur with a shake of his head. Merlin nodded gleefully. “No!”
“Embrace your inner child!” said Merlin, leaping up into the air.
Arthur rolled his eyes, and tackled him when he landed. But Merlin was evidently in a particular good mood; upon being pinned to the bed, he just laughed, and rolled them over so he was on top. He held Arthur’s hands above his head. “Admit it!” he said. “Sometimes you just need to - ”
But Arthur just grinned, broke his hold with almost no effort at all, and rolled them over again. “What were you saying?”
“Let go,” said Merlin. He stuck out his tongue.
They were both breathing heavily, now. Merlin’s fringe was slightly damp with sweat. It was clinging to his forehead. And their bodies were pressed right up against each other, legs all tangled up. Merlin was warm and tense beneath him, face only inches away, and it felt better than he’d care to admit.
“I have to get back to the training field,” he said, voice slightly hoarse. He let go of Merlin’s hands, and sat up.
“I have to change the sheets,” Merlin said, pulling himself out from under Arthur.
“Well, you should get on with that, then,” said the Prince.
“Yeah, you too,” said his manservant.
They exchanged a long, bewildered glance.
Then they rolled away from each other, scrambled off the bed, and grabbed for their shoes.