Not Another Cinderella - Chapter Five
Arthur had yet to reach the first month of his stay at the inn and he was already beginning to tire of this farce….Okay! So it’d been two weeks and he was still technically in training mood as Merlin liked to call it, but still.
He had spent his first few days learning the systems and how to properly make up a bed because obviously he didn’t know how. The laughing fit Gwen had thrown when he’d first attempted had him red in the face for hours after. Apparently, the little skirt thingy was supposed to go under the mattress.
Then there was the incident with the washing and previously white linen being turned pink that Arthur swore was not fault no matter what anyone said. Morgana had been lurking around for that one, Arthur had to put up with consistent smirks from her and Merlin for days afterwards.
Not that he ever really saw much of Merlin. The other man, Gwen had told him, was supposed to be in charge of training Arthur and getting him settled into the systems here at the Destin Inn but he had passed Arthur off to Gwen to handle instead. As though he was a misbehaving puppy and not a prince. Not that Merlin knew of his status….still.
He was unsure in whether he should be grateful that he didn’t have to deal with the big eared idiot, or angered that the other man seemed to want nothing to do with him. Not that either of these feelings were the emotion that soured his stomach. He dared say he was disappointed that Merlin was avoiding him, going so far as to take his meals in the kitchen or in his bedroom. Arthur couldn’t phantom what he had done to make Merlin go to such extremes to avoid his presences.
"He doesn’t like change," Freya, the resident chef, said one morning when he asked her on a trip to the market for fresh ingredients for the kitchen.
"Why?"
She’d shrugged and pinched at a tomato before handing some notes to the man manning the stall. "He never has."
Which Arthur would have believed if only Merlin hadn’t taken to Lance and Leon like water to tea leaves. Merlin got on with the two of them just fine. It was only Arthur he seemed to want nothing to do with. He had no idea what to do about it either. He was use to people wanting him because of his looks or title or sometimes both of those things. He wasn’t use to someone just openly not liking him.
He shook of himself and came to the decision to think of it no more.
If the idiot wanted nothing to do with him, then Arthur wanted nothing to do with the idiot.
So of course, two days later found Arthur in the pristine kitchen with mister big ears. Freya had begged off with an emergency and had pleaded and glared and threaten until Merlin agreed to take over the kitchen duties for the day, amending that if he were to give someone food poisoning, it would be her fault.
Arthur sincerely hoped he was joking about that part.
Now how he came to be in the kitchen with Merlin still eluded him. It was Leon who Freya had quite literally dragged into the kitchen with her by the tip of one ear and proclaimed that he was hers. Leon had blushed furiously for hours afterwards and insisted that Freya only meant as a helper. Needless to say, Arthur had taken to teasing him mercilessly since. So he was a little lost as to how he had been wrangled into acting as Merlin’s kitchen had. He was pretty sure it had something to do with that blasted turtle and knew that Leon claimed to have sprained an ankle when he tripped over the weird cat that slinked around - Arthur knew Leon to be a liar in this seeing as how he had spotted Leon walking around perfectly fine minutes later.
Not that it mattered why he was there, only that he was, and no bout of complaining was going to get him out of it. He contemplated just leaving and absolutely refusing but then, he would have to put up with Morgana’s snide remarks and sneers that he absolutely could not succeed as a commoner, not to mention that he would more than likely have to put up with Guinevere. She could be scary when she wanted.
Resigned, he had followed Merlin into the kitchen and absolutely did not sulk or drag his feet (‘Shut up Morgana.").
He had sat at the center island on a stool and watched as Merlin bustled around the kitchen.
Arthur watched Merlin as he boiled pasta and set the spaghetti sauce (pre-made by Freya) to heat next to it and browned the meat.
It suited them both to have Arthur sit out of the way, and Merlin barely glanced in Arthur’s direction. It kind of pissed him off, and something inside him itched to gain Merlin’s attention so when the opportunity presented itself he took it, grabbing the bag of flour that Merlin was having a ridiculously hard time opening.
Merlin, whom apparently was unable to do anything with a fight where Arthur was concerned, held tightly to the bag with the expected results of the paper tearing and a large explosion of flour.
They stared at each in astonishment as the white powder fluttered through the air only to land and cover everything.
It was like a warped version of those old Christmas movies he had watched as a kid, cuddled up beside his mum with a bowl of Avalon strawberries. The thought was so sappy and weird that it shocked Arthur enough to force his eyes away from Merlin. He jerked back, feeling the heels of his feet stumble over something solid and began tumbling down to his arse. In a failed attempt to keep himself up Arthur’s arms waving before snagging on something solid.
It was Merlin.
They both fell, Arthur hitting his arse on the linoleum tile before finding himself flat on his back with Merlin atop him. It was déjà’vu. Their first meeting all over again.
Merlin was a warm, but heavy weight on his chest, making it hard to breath.
"Please get off me."
Merlin raised himself to his knees so that he was straddling Arthur’s waist. His cock was twitching and taking interest.
"That’s not helping." He said, tongue snaking out to lick at his bottom lip.
"Oh." Merlin sounded a little breathless. He made no move to get up.
"Merlin!"
"Right. Sorry."
All long legs and knobby knees, he scrambled off of Arthur and to the side. His movements drew Arthur’s eyes to the reason for the fall.
The little turtle blinked up at him, the picture of innocence’s.
"I swear I’m going to make a stew out of you."
"Don’t threat Brian." Merlin scolded.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Oh great. Now you’re a champion of defenseless animals? You, who tries daily to kill Dragoon,"
"That’s different."
"How?"
"That bloody cat is a demon." He scooped up Brian before standing. "Brian is a sweetie pie." He went to the fridge and pulled out a couple pieces of lettuce before depositing them and the turtle onto the counter.
Arthur got to his feet gingerly. His arse felt bruised and his cock was pissed at his interruption of its moment.
He brushed flour from his hair and when the dust settled, Merlin was standing before him with a broom in hand.
"Here," Merlin said, thrusting the broom at him.
"What do you want me to do with that?"
"Ride it like Harry bloody Potter." He huffed. "What do you think? Sweep the floor!"
Arthur blinked.
"You want me to sweep the floor."
"Yes, you. I know for a fact that Freya has had you emptying out Dragoon’s kitty litter." Arthur made a face. "So sweeping the floor shouldn’t be much trouble for you."
Arthur stared at him a minute longer, before becoming distracted by the flour clinging to his eyelashes.
They really were very long. Almost girlishly. They curled at the ends and threw shadows over his cheeks. His eyes followed the narrow path of the dark shadows down his cheeks, ultimately leading to his pink mouth.
"You really are kind of pretty." Arthur stated.
Merlin scoffed and Arthur pulled his eyes back to Merlin’s
"What? You don’t believe me?"
"No."
"Huh," Arthur grunted, eyeing Merlin’s mouth again.
Merlin was pretty sure Arthur was going to kiss him. His pupils were blown wide and his mouth hung open enticingly, wet, pink tongue peeking out at him.
Maybe he didn’t need Arthur to kiss him. He might kiss the obnoxious, blond haired prat on his own.
He was just leaning in to do so when there was a loud bang and the sound of something shattering.
They jerked apart, eyes flying away from one another, and blood rushing to fill their cheeks.
Merlin turned his head to see the cookie jar broken, cookies spilled out on the floor. His eyes traveled upward to find Dragoon sitting on the counter, bushy tail curled around his body and a mischievous look splayed on his small face.
He looked back towards Arthur only to watch the tail end of him leaving the kitchen. The doors flapping softly behind him.
Merlin glared at the cat.
"I hate you."
Meow.
........
"Why are you avoiding Arthur?" Gwen asked sometime later, lying on her back across Merlin’s newly made bed. Merlin himself laid on his stomach beside her, his head pillowed on his folded arms.
He had gotten over his earlier embarrassment and was trying very hard to forget what had happened with Arthur.
He couldn’t believe he had almost kissed Arthur He didn’t even know the git was gay, so he sure as hell should not have dared to think to kiss the man.
Only he had dared, letting his impulses control him and, looking at Arthur covered in flour and grinning like a fool, Merlin felt something pull tight in his chest and had felt need to taste his plush mouth with his own.
He was only thankful no one had come upon them to witness his newest bout of idiocy. For goodness sake Arthur wasn’t even gay, or at least if he was Merlin was sure that the man wanted nothing to do with him.
He remembered the conversation that he had overheard Arthur having with Lance and Leon.
"Merlin is certainly good looking," Lancelot had said as Merlin watched through the narrow slit of the open door as he brushed out his hair before hitting Leon with said brush.
"Aye. His cheekbones alone are worthy of the cover of magazines and the catwalks of Paris-" Leon replied as he lifted his turtle to his face and appeared to nuzzle it from where Merlin stood.
There was a snort and Arthur came into view, and Merlin was sure to suffer from a heart attack as he gazed upon the span of bare golden flesh of Arthur’s arms and defined chest, the only thing covering the man being a towel that reached his ankles. Merlin found himself wishing that the towel would fall.
"What? You don’t think?" Leon asked.
"When did you two start admiring men?"
"Since we saw Merlin. Not that I’m willing to switch teams, of course," Leon said with a smirk. "But I’d have to be blind not to see that Merlin is bloody gorgeous."
Arthur snorted once more and left Merlin’s line of sight. He nearly whimpered in disappointment.
"He’s…..not horrible I suppose."
"You suppose?"
"Once you get pass the ridiculously large ears of course. And the fact that he’s skinny as a stick, has no arse, and is a complete idiot."
"It’s just us Arthur. You can tell use the truth you know. We’d never judge you."
"I am telling you the truth. The idiot is attractive enough, in a common way."
Merlin heard nothing else, he had no need, he hurried away to his room and avoided everyone for the day, and had proceeded to avoided Arthur ever since. He had no idea why he had felt so….hurt and disappointed hearing Arthur all but call him ugly. But he had been; which was ridiculous. He didn’t even like Arthur Penn from wherever the hell he was from. His opinion certainly shouldn’t matter to Merlin. And after a day or so, he had been able to convince himself that it didn’t matter what the prat thought of him, though he still had made it a point to avoid the other man.
"I’m not." Merlin finally replied.
Gwen snorted in a very un-lady like manner as she reached over to ruffle his hair. Her fingers carded through his thick strains, scratching at his scalp.
"Yeah, sure."
Merlin scowled, even though she couldn’t see him.
"Could we possibly, I don’t know, talk about something else now?"
Gwen huffed. "Fine. How was your date with Gilli then?’
Merlin groaned. That wasn’t a subject he wanted to speak about either.
"It wasn’t a date."
At least that had been what Merlin had been thinking. It had started out alright. They had gone to see a film - something with people dying and things exploding - and they ate pizza at the only decent pub in town. Then Gilli had tried to kiss him and Merlin had spilt his Lager down his trousers in his surprised. His words had sputtered when he tried to ask what the hell Gilli thought he was doing and in his haste to leave the fast becoming embarrassing situation he had tripped over the table leg and nearly knocked himself out.
So yeah, talking about that night was not something Merlin wanted to do.
Only Gwen didn’t seem to care what it was that Merlin wanted. She nagged and poked at his stomach until he coughed up the story. She was laughing hard and tears were building in her eyes by the time he was finish.
"Glad you find my misery funny. Happy to entertain you." Merlin sulked.
"Oh Merlin, did you honestly not know it was a date?"
"No! Gilli’s like a brother. I want to throw up just by the thought of kissing him."
"And did you tell him this?"
"I kind of thought it might hurt his feelings…"
"So you led him on. Merlin, you little tart!" She said the last part in mock astonishment.
"I did not lead him on! And don’t call me a tart, you hussy."
"Hussy? Me?" She pushed herself up so that she was sitting on the bed and pointed to herself with a dainty index finger. Merlin rolled onto his back so that he could look at her.
"Yes you. I saw you coming out of Lancelot’s room this morning. And not at a very decent hour."
Merlin hadn’t thought Gwen was able to blush like that.
"We were just talking."
Merlin made a disbelieving face. "Sure. Of course."
"Piss off, Merlin."
"And cursing. My, my you must really like sir Lancelot."
Gwen scowled and Merlin watched as she pounced on him, grabbing a pillow from the pile and proceeded to beat him over the head. It was a good old fashion pillow fight.
Arthur was wandering the halls of Destin after having used the facilities. He didn’t feel very much like sleeping. It was an ungodly three in the morning. The guests were sleep, Morgana had curled herself up in his bed, and Arthur shuddered at the thought of joining her there. She had a tendency to kick in her sleep.
His sock covered feet slid smoothly over the hardware floor and he turned a corner, jumping out of his skin and letting out a squeak of sound as Dragoon darted past, Brian the turtle riding on his back.
Arthur blinked after them before shaking his head and deciding that maybe it was time for him to go to bed. He turned towards the direction of his room when he heard a tinkle of sound. It was a piano. Only, he hadn’t known that Destin had a piano.
He followed the sound, keeping to the walls as it grew darker and darker as he walked. He paused as the sound abruptly stopped and jumped again as a door to his left swung open, seemingly on its own.
Arthur glanced around; left, right, and he even took a gander at the bloody ceiling. Nothing was there. And the sound he had heard was gone as though it had never been.
Rubbing a tired had over his face he decided it was definitely time for him to go to bed. He took a step forward and his eyes wander into the open doorway. What he saw froze him.
It was Merlin. Naked. And he was beneath what Arthur would swear was him if that wouldn’t have made him a nutter.
They were. He was. He was screwing Merlin. And from the whimpering sounds coming from the bony, big-eared man he was doing a damned good job of it.
Arthur watched, ears filled the pair’s groans and moans, and felt himself becoming hard.
"What the bloody hell?"
Something brushed against his ankle and he screamed. It was a very mainly scream. thank you, and did not even resemble on that a child or say a girl may have made, and if he was a liar, well, there was no one there to tell him so.
Arthur looked down in time to see the bloody cat, minus the turtle this time, staring up at him. He looked back into the room but the image was gone.
"I’m bloody losing it." He told the cat.
"Meow"
........
~~~~ Masterpost~~~ Chapter Six