the beginning; a scatterbrained merlin and a confusing arthur

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　　Merlin Emrys regretted what he told Arthur Pendragon that morning.

　　Maybe if he had shut his damn mouth he wouldn't be in this predicament right now; pressed up against a complaining portrait in one of Hogwart's many, many, shadowy hallways, Arthur's oh-so buff arms blocking his own lanky figure from escaping.

　　Maybe if he had been doing what he was supposed to be doing instead of perving- being completely distracted by Arthur's obnoxiously loud voice -he wouldn't have heard the clotpoles stupid question and subsequently been forced to answer.

　　"They're kiss-cams, you prat."

　　Maybe if he'd just left it at that, turned back to preparing for the quidditch match that day he would've missed Arthur's definitely-not-adorabley confused expression and he wouldn't have had to explain what muggle kiss-cams were.

　　"Only difference is Dumbledore's enchanted them to show the two people most attracted to each other."

　　"Why the hell would we need something like that, Merlin?"

　　Maybe if he hadn't egged the blond on he wouldn't be staring up at his tempest-like eyes, normally illuminated by his golden lashes but now shadowed with an unreadable emotion. An emotion Merlin would never admit made him squirm under his robes.

　　Merlin prided himself on being able to read people, even if his tendency to trust too easily overrode that. Bur right now, he couldn't read anything from the man towering over him.

　　Even if Arthur's expression was completely obvious, Merlin didn't know if he'd even be able to read him then. He was too close, and the younger man could feel the warmth the blond was sharing and oh God's he could smell him! All musk and sweat and- wait, was that Lavender shampoo?

　　"Merlin."

　　By the Triple Goddess he was gorgeous. With the golden torches illuminating his already gold hair with a bloody halo that made his golden skin radiate even more than usual. Gold on gold on gold was definitely the man's motif and damn did he look like a fucking King. Merlin knew at that moment, knew deep within his magic, that he was born for Arthur and Arthur alone.

　　"Merlin!"

　　He focused back on the present, back on that damned tempest gaze that had Merlin barely keeping himself together. He briefly thanked the Goddess for Arthur's dreadful obliviousness, otherwise he'd never hear the end of it from the egotistical blond.

　　"Y-yes, Prat?" Merlin winced at the stutter and cleared his throat. "As much as I'd love to suffocate on your B.O. I have things to do. So if you could jus-"

　　"Nice catch."

　　Merlin blinked, the words he had worked so hard to bring forth from his muggy mind lost again to the void. "What?"

　　Arthur leaned in even closer, and if Merlin thought he was scatterbrained before then he had another thing coming. He couldn't stop the traitorous blush that fled to his famously elvish cheekbones at the feel of Arthur's breath on his skin. Nor the content sigh that escaped his lips at the lingering scent of mint toothpaste and raspberry sweets that chased the blond's breath.

　　Merlin was a mess and he didn't fucking care. And for a split moment he had no regrets from this morning.

　　As Arthur continued to lean in the side of his lips grazed Merlin's warm cheeks and the boy thought he was going to melt at the fantasies running wild through his head. Fantasies particularly pertaining to those surprisingly soft lips grazing the rest of his skin.

　　"Nice catch," Arthur repeated, then he pulled back and was gone in two long strides.

　　Merlin stood still for a moment. He felt like his brain had flatlined and died without the rest of him, leaving the boy with too many stagnant thoughts, and all he could do was let out a whisper.

　　"What the actual fuck?"

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i have zero regrets. and can i just express to you guys how easy it was to write this! like???????? boi gay was meant for me okay. thank you.

hope ya'll enjoyed! i'll see ya next time!