Merthur fic
(Closed, Moderated, Unrevealed)
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Summary
Merlin mysteriously receives a set of armour. Beautifully crafted leather armour, to be exact. He very quickly learns that amongst the nobility, such a gift is considered an offering of courtship. If only he could figure out who it’s from, and why the King is acting so… normal.
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- Words:
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- Works:
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Arthur bumped into another man in the doorway, and he saw their chest, with a far-too-small for him t-shirt stretching across his lean, wiry frame, declaring “Blow Jobs are Real Jobs”.
He laughed under his breath as he looked up at the man’s admittedly handsome face.
“Is that so?” he asked the man.
“What?” the man asked, confused.
“Your shirt…”
“Oh!” he said, seemingly embarrassed. “Yeah, it’s not mine. My friend he—”
“Tell me—”
“Merlin,” the man said, holding out his hand.
Arthur ignored it, he was drunk and he was always dick when he got drunk on vodka.
“Tell me, Merlin. Are you in need of employment?”
Merlin rolled his eyes and turned away from him.
“Aww,” he called mockingly. “Don’t walk away!”
The man turned around incredulously, “From you?”
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Merlin teaches Arthur how to shower.
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Summary
Arthur hears a rumour about the boy in the greenhouse.