Britain Boys, Part 4/10
Aug. 29th, 2011 06:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nyxelestiaBritain Boys Part 4
Christmas time was not nearly as happy as their birthday.
“I can’t believe he nearly cancelled his speech,” Arthur said as they watched Eastenders before the speech. Arthur was sitting upright on his pallet, which had long since been dragged closer to the telly, and Merlin was lying on his stomach, leaning on his elbows, as he bit into the ready-meal pudding they’d got from Collins that morning, trying not to flop forward and go back to sleep.
“They’re doing part of the speech live,” Arthur said. “So Father can talk about the kidnapping. Weird.”
Merlin swallowed his current bite and said, “I’m pretty sure it would be weirder for the Christmas speech to not mention us, Arthur.”
Arthur nodded absently as the tune of God Save the King came on, and once the song was done, the screen was filled with the image of the King, regal as ever, but showing obvious signs of how much his son’s absence has affected him.
“He’s a wreck,” Arthur said in shock as he drank in the sight of his father.
“He’s distraught.”
“He’s the King!”
Merlin just shook his head, wondering how a kid could actually end up wanting their parent to pretend they were unaffected by their kidnapping.
Arthur’s father’s voiced filled their small room soon enough, and Merlin turned to the telly to see the King’s Christmas speech, somber and tired in word and body.
“…I had nearly not given this speech, this year,” Uther said to the nation, and the world. “My son, and the son of Prime Minister Hunith Emrys, were kidnapped over two weeks ago, and to this hour remain in captivity. I can only hope that Christmas and Yule spirit will soften the hearts of their captors, and that we will see the boys returned to us unharmed.”
“We hope so, too,” Arthur muttered. “Too bad they’re so stubborn.”
But for all the sarcasm, his wide eyes were fixed on the face of his father on screen.
“Maybe Christmas spirit will warm their hearts?” Merlin offered carefully, only half mocking, if that.
Arthur snorted, before frowning. “It won’t matter, they’re sorcerers, they celebrate Yule, not Christmas.”
“We celebrate Christmas!” Merlin protested.
“Well you live with your Christian mother and she’s not a sorceress-”
“Sorcerers celebrate Christmas,” Merlin said, firmly. “We get two holidays right next to each other, Solstice and Christmas.” He paused. “Well, I get three, sort of, ‘cause half the time my birthday’s on Solstice like it was this year, but the other half it’s not.”
“Three? Lucky. Half the time, people just try to cram my birthday celebrations in with Christmas, or only attend one function and pretend they attended both, or…” He grimaced. “I get a bunch of presents all at once and then have to make do with that for the whole year, and then people try to only give me presents for one day instead of two!”
“At least you get presents,” Merlin said, before yawning. “I remember when me and Mum couldn’t really afford much. We usually had to choose between presents, and nice decorations and food. We went with the food. We usually just had one party for two or three celebrations because we couldn’t afford two or three parties.”
“How does that even work, getting no presents?” Arthur asked, jerking his chin to the side but not taking his eyes off his father’s face.
Merlin turned his head back to look at Arthur and said, “Easy – we have a good time. Good company is the best present in the world.”
“You get your mum’s company all the time,” Arthur said.
“…not lately,” Merlin said. He turned back to the screen, trying not to fall forward onto his chest. “Wouldn’t you love to be with your dad right now?”
Merlin saw Arthur nod in the edge of his vision.
“Still,” Arthur said. “Whatever the Blesseds celebrate, I doubt they’ll just let us go after spending all this time and trouble to kidnap us in the first place.”
Merlin deflated. He knew that, but…
“Well, then, maybe Father Christmas will take us back home in his sleigh,” he said instead, finally giving into the exhaustion and flopping forward anyway, folding his arms under his head instead, curling up a bit so his elbow was near Arthur’s knee, adjusting his head to be as not-uncomfortable as possible with the stupid collar getting in the way of that.
“At least you’d get to pet his reindeer,” Arthur said, and it took Merlin a moment but once he realized what Arthur was talking about, he grinned.
“That would be nice.”
“So would getting out of here.”
“Then let’s hope he comes.”
Once the King was done with his live speech, they half-listened to the pre-recorded parts, Arthur commenting on various points from having watched while it was filmed. Merlin leaned against Arthur, resting his head on Arthur’s leg and pretending he didn’t hear the way Arthur’s breath hitched from hearing his father’s voice and words.
He dozed off to the sound of the King’s voice talking about economy and politics and other grown-up things, and Arthur’s hand resting in his hair.
~*~
It was something they’d noticed early on, but had tried to ignore, trying to take care of themselves in the loo when they went. But they only went twice a day, and they didn’t always have time, and, well-
That sex-ed video in Year 4 lied when they said this wouldn’t be a detriment to their daily lives.
Arthur quickly noticed when Merlin pulled away to the other side of the mat, but dropped his curiosity when Merlin didn’t respond to his inquiries as to why.
When Merlin was sure Arthur was asleep, he quietly reached into his jeans, undoing them and pulling out his dick, stuffing one fisted-hand into his mouth while wrapping the other one around his hard-on, before quickly stroking, trying to bring himself off as fast as possible.
Unfortunately, it turned out Arthur wasn’t sleeping, and when he murmured a confused, “Merlin?” into the unusually large space between them, Merlin shouted in surprise before burrowing deeper into his blanket. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Merlin said. “Just…go back to sleep.”
“No,” Arthur said, pushing himself back up to peer at Merlin through the darkness. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” Merlin snapped, huddling in on himself even more and hoping Arthur would just let go of it so he could finish himself off and go back to sleep. Stupid penis, picking now of all times to embarrass him. Stupid, stupid body and stupid puberty and-
“Then what are you hiding? I thought your magic was suppressed.”
Then, to Merlin’s utter horror, Arthur began to tug at the blanket, and with a preemptively embarrassed squeak, Merlin clutched onto his cover by his groin. “Stop that!”
“What are you…” There was a long pause, as Merlin shut his eyes in humiliation while Arthur worked it out. “Are you wanking?!”
“…we only get to go to the loo twice a day!” Merlin snapped, thankful the darkness concealed his furious blushing.
Arthur burst out laughing. Prick.
Now humiliated, Merlin tried to figure out how to best end his torment that didn’t involve swallowing a block of iron or some other form of suicide, before he remembered something Will had said to him a long time ago, back when bullies were still a big problem: they can humiliate you, but only you can be humiliated.
Gritting his teeth, Merlin also sat up, glaring at Arthur and not bothering to hide the tented sheet.
(Though he kind of wished he did because while Arthur abruptly stopped laughing, the way he was staring at Merlin’s crotch was really disconcerting).
Ignoring that, Merlin said, “Don’t pretend you haven’t been…” What was a good word for this, the one Will used? “…frustrated.”
Arthur didn’t respond, still staring.
“Arthur?”
Arthur shook his head a little before looking up at him and saying, “I’m not a sorcerer. Father said sorcerers were all rampant adulterers, but this-”
“Your father’s wrong,” Merlin said. “Just because some people join with others in rituals doesn’t mean they’re unfaithful. And that has nothing to do with this.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. It just…this means I’m more mature than you! This happens more when we get older-”
“We were born on the same day,” Arthur said, firm but deadpan. “Which you should really remember considering our birthday was just a few days ago. And anyway I was born several hours before you!”
“So? Everyone matures different and clearly this means I’m growing up faster than you are!” Merlin said triumphantly.
Arthur snorted. “Yes, being frustrated and unable to keep it in your pants – really something to look forward to as a part of growing up.”
There was more silence, then just as Merlin was starting to think of a good retort, he noticed something: the sheets around Arthur’s crotch were not as flat now as they were just a few moments ago.
Pointing, he laughed and crowed, “Looks like I’m not the only one!”
Arthur’s eyes widened as he looked down, before he promptly pulled up his blanket around him. Merlin wondered if Arthur was blushing as much as he’d done moments ago, but he couldn’t tell in the meager light of the Gameboy.
“I – it’s – you…it’s all your fault!” Arthur spluttered.
“How is it my fault?”
“It just is!”Arthur snapped.
“No it isn’t! I was just trying to take care of myself quietly before you started nosing around-”
“Nosing around?! You’re right next to me! No matter how quiet you thought you were being, you weren’t!”
There was silence again, before Merlin heard Arthur take a deep breath and say, “Look, how about we both just…we just take care of ourselves and agree to completely ignore each other and never speak of this again?”
Merlin nodded. “Yeah, that…that works.”
They both lay back down, turning away from each other and huddling on their respective sides of the mat.
Merlin tried not to hear Arthur right there as he finished himself off, but as he came all over his hand, he got a queasy feeling in his gut that he had failed miserably at it.
~*~
Boxing Day dawned with Merlin getting up only to fall right back over when he got dizzy.
“Are you all right?” Arthur asked when he saw Merlin sprawled on his arse, only held up by leaning back on his arms.
Merlin shut his eyes and took several deep breaths. “Um…yeah…I think so.”
“What happened?”
Merlin opened his eyes, and found the room to be not swimming around him as much as it was before.
“Stood up too fast, I guess?”
At Arthur’s dubious look, Merlin added, “The collar…I’m getting worse.”
Arthur frowned, before crawling over to Merlin’s side. “Need me to help you up?”
Merlin shook his head. “I’ll just…wait it out…”
At that point, Collins came in.
“What’s got into you?” he asked, amused, when Arthur glared up at him while he was setting down the new food trays.
Arthur didn’t answer, instead shocking Merlin (and from the looks of his face, Collins) by wrapping a protective arm around Merlin while continuing to glare up at the man.
As soon as he left, Merlin turned to Arthur and asked, “What was that about?”
“You’re ill,” Arthur said, as if that explained everything.
“Not yet,” Merlin said, pushing himself up so at least he wasn’t leaning on his arms. But when he tried to get up again, he fell right back down.
“Don’t,” Merlin said sharply when Arthur tried to help him up.
“At least sit against the wall,” Arthur said, winding his hands through Merlin’s resistant arms to push him back against the wall. “So you can eat.”
Merlin hated how much relief he found by leaning against the wall, especially once Arthur brought them their meager breakfast.
“I was fine last night,” Merlin said.
“You’ve been exhausted for ages, even though we do absolutely nothing,” Arthur said, sitting next to Merlin and balancing his tray on his knees. “So…you have to be ill, because nothing we do could possibly make us tired.”
“We don’t get much food,” Merlin offered, looking down at his forlornly. “Not that I feel like eating much, anyway…”
“I know, it’s awful,” Arthur said, biting into what looked like a sausage.
“No, that’s not it, I used to eat meals like this all the time,” Merlin said, and before Arthur could stare in horror, he added, “I just…don’t feel like eating.”
Arthur remembered the last time he was ill and nodded. “I think you’re supposed to eat it anyway.”
“I don’t want to throw up, though,” Merlin said, but sighed and started eating reluctantly.
“You’ll get even more ill if you don’t,” Arthur said.
Merlin nodded and in silence they finished eating.
He tried not to think about how relieved he was to be done with the meal, but he must’ve been obvious when Arthur offered to finish up or at least hold onto the last bits. But Arthur’d had a point, at least, about needing to eat, and this time when he stood up, he didn’t get dizzy, managing to walk in a bit of a circle before he sat down again out of tiredness, then Arthur got up and started pacing back and forth across the small room.
Merlin curled up on his pallet, watching wearily as Arthur flipped through channels on the telly to find something to watch. The news was largely about more failed rescue attempts and dissecting the King’s speech, and some American political scandal that had something to do with the economy and made no real sense to Merlin at all.
Arthur settled on something neither of them really cared for but watched anyway, and Arthur sat by Merlin’s head and said, “Need anything?”
“No,” Merlin said.
Later, though, he did.
He blushed furiously as Arthur hovered over him when he got up – on his own – to let Collins take him to the loo, and once he was blindfolded, he nearly fell over again when he tried to walk.
Collins got sick of him walking carefully with the wall for support, and ended up manhandling Merlin to the bathroom.
Merlin managed to not fall to the ground again when the blindfold was tugged off and he was shoved into the small space, so at least there was that. Swallowing down his frustration, though, he managed to take care of his bodily function and washed his hands and face, and was led back to their little room, where he sat against the wall as Arthur took his turn.
When they were left alone again, Merlin said, “I think I’m getting better. I could walk back. Mostly.”
“Right,” Arthur said. Merlin wondered if his lie was that obvious.
~*~
The low point of their week came when they were taken to the loo together, for once, told to strip, and handed a large bucket of water, some rags, and some soap.
“Wash yourselves,” Collins ordered gruffly. “Take your damn time, too. Can’t have you looking too bad for the camera, can we?” The man snorted as he bundled up their clothes, ignoring their furious blushing as both boys tried to hide themselves from each other, Collins, and in this situation even themselves, just a little. “Higher ups won’t have that…” he grumbled, before leaving, taking their clothes with him.
Arthur grimaced, holding his flannel over his crotch as he stuck a hand in the water. Warm, at least, so there was that much.
Not that it really helped.
What followed was an excruciatingly awkward wash as they faced away from each other on either side of the bucket, reaching back behind themselves to dunk their washrags into the lukewarm water and take some soap, trying not to slip and slide across the floor as water and soap drained down their bodies and collected on the tile floor.
Then Arthur heard a loud thud and glancing over his shoulder, he saw Merlin had fallen.
“Are you-”
“M’fine, just slipped,” Merlin said.
Arthur frowned, though, when he heard some squeaking noises on the tile and several more thuds. Then silence, broken only by a soft, mostly-suppressed sob.
“Merlin?”
“…I can’t get up,” Merlin said, frustration and humiliation coloring his voice.
“Um…” Arthur bit his lip, then using his rag to cover his own bits, turned around to see Merlin on the floor, facing away from him and the bucket. With a deep flush on his face, Merlin curled up, pulling his knees to his chest and using his legs to cover himself up.
“Can you stand? Or do you think you’ll fall again?” Arthur asked, using his nicest voice possible.
“…fall…”
“Right,” Arthur said, looking anywhere but at Merlin’s tomato-red face. “So, I’ll…” Arthur gulped, and started again. “I’ll help you wash, okay?”
“Okay,” Merlin mumbled, his eyes shut, face still red. Arthur could sympathize, and tried to make the experience as un-humiliating as possible.
In the end, though, it wasn’t as humiliating as Arthur had expected it to be. He even dropped his own rag after helping Merlin sit up, as he fell into the gentle rhythm of dipping it into the water rubbing some soap on Merlin’s body, and wiping it down.
He went slow, careful, lavishing his time over Merlin’s body, pale and slim as it was. Bony. He helped Merlin sit up, and washed his back, pouring water down his spine and spreading it across his back. Once that was done, he got Merlin to lean against a wall and focused on the rest of him.
Merlin jerked and wimpered when Arthur touched his neck, and Arthur sighed, saying, “It’s getting dirty under there…” And Merlin relented to Arthur cleaning under his collar. Arthur’s hands nearly shook with the rush of emotion that came with Merlin’s almost pained face, emotions that made him want to grab that bucket and run out and bash Collins’ and the Blesseds’ heads in, screaming at them and demanding to know how they could do this to one of their own.
But he couldn’t do that. So he cleaned under there instead, then swiped over Merlin’s shoulders and across his chest. Merlin shook when Arthur brushed over his belly, and he fretted before realizing Merlin was just ticklish there, and the spasm was as close to laughter as he could get. He was more careful after that, gentle, and Merlin sighed as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall.
Arthur unfurled Merlin’s limbs individually, washing each one with care as he soaked in the sight of it, took in the way Merlin relaxed under Arthur’s care and the warm water. Merlin wouldn’t let Arthur wash his bits, but Arthur did take care of his thighs and legs and feet and hips and everything else.
Merlin was even dozing off by the time Arthur finished, at which point Arthur finished washing up himself, then just sat there, keeping vigil over Merlin and waiting until Collins came and gave them back their clothes. When the man returned, Arthur dressed and helped Merlin dress, before they were taken back to ‘their’ room. They were so tired, Tom didn’t even bother blindfolding them.
(Arthur didn’t forget their path, though)
Once back in the room, Merlin said sincerely, “Thank you,” and Arthur accepted it.
Then they promised never to speak of it again.
~*~
Merlin seemed to feel a bit better, the next day.
But that didn’t really help much as the news unfurled across the telly screen. Arthur winced and stared in shock at his parents pleas being broadcasted, pleas for contact, even a demand they could try to meet.
“I can’t believe people are airing this,” Arthur said, watching those videos his father and Merlin’s mother be dissected. The messages were brief, spoken from behind their desks. Even his father’s voice seemed off and his hands trembling, Merlin’s mother’s skin pale, exhaustion and fear radiating even across digitalization and wires and airwaves. Short messages, asking what the Blesseds wanted, what it would take to get their sons back.
But for such a thing to wake up to on New Year’s Day…
Collins laughed when he came in and saw that.
“Loving watching your parents act like this?” He turned to Arthur. “Bet your father never shows emotion like this.”
Wrong! Arthur wanted to scream at the man. He turned away bitterly, instead, grumbling, “I wish you’d just not given us the telly so we wouldn’t have to watch this.”
Merlin narrowed his eyes at the man. “Why did you give us a working telly, anyway?”
“To keep you distracted and make sure you shut up,” Collins said. He set their meal trays on the table and said impatiently, “Like I said, just because this can be unpleasant doesn’t mean it has to be. I’m pretty sure I told you this when you arrived. We hijack the signal and watch the telly in our own office, too, if it’s any consolation.”
As he turned away and left, Arthur couldn’t help but say, “He really needs to look up the definition of the word ‘consolation’ in the dictionary.”
Merlin chuckled, his body into it, in the way Arthur was sure would have been laughter if Merlin felt any stronger.
~*~
Merlin bit down a grunt as he fisted himself under the blanket, wondering if maybe he should put off until tomorrow, when he would have a little more energy.
With a frustrated grunt, he let go of his prick and brought his hand up to his neck, running his finger over the collar, the stupid scrap of metal keeping himself locked away inside, his power and energy and everything.
“I hate you,” Merlin murmured to the collar.
“What did I do?!” Arthur protested form the other side of their pallet.
“Not you, this collar!” Merlin said, furiously stuffing his dick back into his jeans.
“Now what?”
“’Now what’ is that I’m actually too tired to wank…” He laughed. “Too tired to wank!” he added hysterically. He turned around to face a surprised and wary Arthur. “That shouldn’t be effing possible but it is and I’d know because I am actually just – this collar is taking everything away!”
“…not your life,” Arthur offered, hesitatingly.
“Not yet.”
“Well it probably won’t…?”
“I wish it would,” Merlin said. “Just to be done with this.”
“Don’t say that!” Arthur suddenly cried out sharply, turning around and clutching onto Merlin’s shoulder. “Don’t – don’t wish for death.”
“I’m not wishing for death, I just don’t want to wear this damn collar anymore!” Merlin cried out, jerking his shoulder away from Arthur’s touch. “And if I’m dead-”
“Don’t say that!” Arthur said.
“You’re not the one wearing this collar!” Merlin cried out. “You’re not getting your soul trapped by a scrap of metal and-”
“It suppresses magic, not souls, I think you’ll live,” Arthur said.
“It might as well be my soul for all the good that difference does me,” Merlin said bitterly, turning away and trying not to groan. He barely had the energy to turn around but he was still slightly hard. Damnit.
“Merlin…”
Merlin sighed again. “I just – this collar is taking everything already, but – if I can’t even wank myself off, then ho – how soon til I can’t do anything else, either, like breathe, or, or-”
His throat tightened up too much for him to talk anymore, and even though he knew it was from suppressed tears, it felt like the hellish collar had come alive and was choking him and he couldn’t breathe or wank or anything and he just, he just-
“What if I did it for you?” he heard Arthur say.
Merlin shut his eyes and swallowed a few times, before managing to force out, “Do what?”
“Wank you off – or finish you off?”
Merlin heard rustling cloth and then felt the sudden warmth of Arthur’s s hand on his shoulder.
“I mean…I can,” Arthur offered.
…he was so tired…
“Merlin?”
…and it wasn’t like he’d get better tomorrow…
“…Yeah,” Merlin said, wishing he had enough of his magic to get the ground to swallow him up at the thought of Arthur seeing his bare dick, at the thought of having someone else touch him, finish him off-
He jumped as he felt the warmth of Arthur’s chest at his back, then Arthur’s arms around his waist, blanket shifting around Merlin’s shoulders as Arthur’s hands moved to feel around his legs, and he nearly jerked right out of his skin when he felt Arthur’s fingers wrap around him, before going completely still, almost unnaturally.
“Okay?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah,” Merlin mumbled.
“Tell me if it isn’t,” Arthur said carefully, before he started moving his hands.
At first, all Merlin could think was this is weird, this I weird, this is weird, this is-
No one else had ever touched him there.
But there was that sheer good feeling, warmth in his veins adding to the heat from Arthur’s hands and body wrapped around him, that almost dizzy-but-not-quite feeling in the back of his head that came with wanking, the feeling of his bones and muscles trying to liquefy, his eyes rolling to the back of his head from the sensation…
And when he came, it came with the feeling of utter relief, as if every bad feeling he’d been battling since he was kidnapped flowed out of him along with the semen that now covered Arthur’s hand-
-and that brought him back to the fact that someone else, that Arthur, had just wanked him off.
He lay there, slumped in Arthur’s arms as Arthur found the shred of napkin Merlin saved for this and wiped off his hand.
But when he was clean and had extracted his arms from around Merlin, he didn’t move away, and Merlin was too wrung out to do much but lean into Arthur and doze off, deeper and deeper into the realm of dreams.
~*~
Part 5
Christmas time was not nearly as happy as their birthday.
“I can’t believe he nearly cancelled his speech,” Arthur said as they watched Eastenders before the speech. Arthur was sitting upright on his pallet, which had long since been dragged closer to the telly, and Merlin was lying on his stomach, leaning on his elbows, as he bit into the ready-meal pudding they’d got from Collins that morning, trying not to flop forward and go back to sleep.
“They’re doing part of the speech live,” Arthur said. “So Father can talk about the kidnapping. Weird.”
Merlin swallowed his current bite and said, “I’m pretty sure it would be weirder for the Christmas speech to not mention us, Arthur.”
Arthur nodded absently as the tune of God Save the King came on, and once the song was done, the screen was filled with the image of the King, regal as ever, but showing obvious signs of how much his son’s absence has affected him.
“He’s a wreck,” Arthur said in shock as he drank in the sight of his father.
“He’s distraught.”
“He’s the King!”
Merlin just shook his head, wondering how a kid could actually end up wanting their parent to pretend they were unaffected by their kidnapping.
Arthur’s father’s voiced filled their small room soon enough, and Merlin turned to the telly to see the King’s Christmas speech, somber and tired in word and body.
“…I had nearly not given this speech, this year,” Uther said to the nation, and the world. “My son, and the son of Prime Minister Hunith Emrys, were kidnapped over two weeks ago, and to this hour remain in captivity. I can only hope that Christmas and Yule spirit will soften the hearts of their captors, and that we will see the boys returned to us unharmed.”
“We hope so, too,” Arthur muttered. “Too bad they’re so stubborn.”
But for all the sarcasm, his wide eyes were fixed on the face of his father on screen.
“Maybe Christmas spirit will warm their hearts?” Merlin offered carefully, only half mocking, if that.
Arthur snorted, before frowning. “It won’t matter, they’re sorcerers, they celebrate Yule, not Christmas.”
“We celebrate Christmas!” Merlin protested.
“Well you live with your Christian mother and she’s not a sorceress-”
“Sorcerers celebrate Christmas,” Merlin said, firmly. “We get two holidays right next to each other, Solstice and Christmas.” He paused. “Well, I get three, sort of, ‘cause half the time my birthday’s on Solstice like it was this year, but the other half it’s not.”
“Three? Lucky. Half the time, people just try to cram my birthday celebrations in with Christmas, or only attend one function and pretend they attended both, or…” He grimaced. “I get a bunch of presents all at once and then have to make do with that for the whole year, and then people try to only give me presents for one day instead of two!”
“At least you get presents,” Merlin said, before yawning. “I remember when me and Mum couldn’t really afford much. We usually had to choose between presents, and nice decorations and food. We went with the food. We usually just had one party for two or three celebrations because we couldn’t afford two or three parties.”
“How does that even work, getting no presents?” Arthur asked, jerking his chin to the side but not taking his eyes off his father’s face.
Merlin turned his head back to look at Arthur and said, “Easy – we have a good time. Good company is the best present in the world.”
“You get your mum’s company all the time,” Arthur said.
“…not lately,” Merlin said. He turned back to the screen, trying not to fall forward onto his chest. “Wouldn’t you love to be with your dad right now?”
Merlin saw Arthur nod in the edge of his vision.
“Still,” Arthur said. “Whatever the Blesseds celebrate, I doubt they’ll just let us go after spending all this time and trouble to kidnap us in the first place.”
Merlin deflated. He knew that, but…
“Well, then, maybe Father Christmas will take us back home in his sleigh,” he said instead, finally giving into the exhaustion and flopping forward anyway, folding his arms under his head instead, curling up a bit so his elbow was near Arthur’s knee, adjusting his head to be as not-uncomfortable as possible with the stupid collar getting in the way of that.
“At least you’d get to pet his reindeer,” Arthur said, and it took Merlin a moment but once he realized what Arthur was talking about, he grinned.
“That would be nice.”
“So would getting out of here.”
“Then let’s hope he comes.”
Once the King was done with his live speech, they half-listened to the pre-recorded parts, Arthur commenting on various points from having watched while it was filmed. Merlin leaned against Arthur, resting his head on Arthur’s leg and pretending he didn’t hear the way Arthur’s breath hitched from hearing his father’s voice and words.
He dozed off to the sound of the King’s voice talking about economy and politics and other grown-up things, and Arthur’s hand resting in his hair.
It was something they’d noticed early on, but had tried to ignore, trying to take care of themselves in the loo when they went. But they only went twice a day, and they didn’t always have time, and, well-
That sex-ed video in Year 4 lied when they said this wouldn’t be a detriment to their daily lives.
Arthur quickly noticed when Merlin pulled away to the other side of the mat, but dropped his curiosity when Merlin didn’t respond to his inquiries as to why.
When Merlin was sure Arthur was asleep, he quietly reached into his jeans, undoing them and pulling out his dick, stuffing one fisted-hand into his mouth while wrapping the other one around his hard-on, before quickly stroking, trying to bring himself off as fast as possible.
Unfortunately, it turned out Arthur wasn’t sleeping, and when he murmured a confused, “Merlin?” into the unusually large space between them, Merlin shouted in surprise before burrowing deeper into his blanket. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Merlin said. “Just…go back to sleep.”
“No,” Arthur said, pushing himself back up to peer at Merlin through the darkness. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” Merlin snapped, huddling in on himself even more and hoping Arthur would just let go of it so he could finish himself off and go back to sleep. Stupid penis, picking now of all times to embarrass him. Stupid, stupid body and stupid puberty and-
“Then what are you hiding? I thought your magic was suppressed.”
Then, to Merlin’s utter horror, Arthur began to tug at the blanket, and with a preemptively embarrassed squeak, Merlin clutched onto his cover by his groin. “Stop that!”
“What are you…” There was a long pause, as Merlin shut his eyes in humiliation while Arthur worked it out. “Are you wanking?!”
“…we only get to go to the loo twice a day!” Merlin snapped, thankful the darkness concealed his furious blushing.
Arthur burst out laughing. Prick.
Now humiliated, Merlin tried to figure out how to best end his torment that didn’t involve swallowing a block of iron or some other form of suicide, before he remembered something Will had said to him a long time ago, back when bullies were still a big problem: they can humiliate you, but only you can be humiliated.
Gritting his teeth, Merlin also sat up, glaring at Arthur and not bothering to hide the tented sheet.
(Though he kind of wished he did because while Arthur abruptly stopped laughing, the way he was staring at Merlin’s crotch was really disconcerting).
Ignoring that, Merlin said, “Don’t pretend you haven’t been…” What was a good word for this, the one Will used? “…frustrated.”
Arthur didn’t respond, still staring.
“Arthur?”
Arthur shook his head a little before looking up at him and saying, “I’m not a sorcerer. Father said sorcerers were all rampant adulterers, but this-”
“Your father’s wrong,” Merlin said. “Just because some people join with others in rituals doesn’t mean they’re unfaithful. And that has nothing to do with this.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. It just…this means I’m more mature than you! This happens more when we get older-”
“We were born on the same day,” Arthur said, firm but deadpan. “Which you should really remember considering our birthday was just a few days ago. And anyway I was born several hours before you!”
“So? Everyone matures different and clearly this means I’m growing up faster than you are!” Merlin said triumphantly.
Arthur snorted. “Yes, being frustrated and unable to keep it in your pants – really something to look forward to as a part of growing up.”
There was more silence, then just as Merlin was starting to think of a good retort, he noticed something: the sheets around Arthur’s crotch were not as flat now as they were just a few moments ago.
Pointing, he laughed and crowed, “Looks like I’m not the only one!”
Arthur’s eyes widened as he looked down, before he promptly pulled up his blanket around him. Merlin wondered if Arthur was blushing as much as he’d done moments ago, but he couldn’t tell in the meager light of the Gameboy.
“I – it’s – you…it’s all your fault!” Arthur spluttered.
“How is it my fault?”
“It just is!”Arthur snapped.
“No it isn’t! I was just trying to take care of myself quietly before you started nosing around-”
“Nosing around?! You’re right next to me! No matter how quiet you thought you were being, you weren’t!”
There was silence again, before Merlin heard Arthur take a deep breath and say, “Look, how about we both just…we just take care of ourselves and agree to completely ignore each other and never speak of this again?”
Merlin nodded. “Yeah, that…that works.”
They both lay back down, turning away from each other and huddling on their respective sides of the mat.
Merlin tried not to hear Arthur right there as he finished himself off, but as he came all over his hand, he got a queasy feeling in his gut that he had failed miserably at it.
Boxing Day dawned with Merlin getting up only to fall right back over when he got dizzy.
“Are you all right?” Arthur asked when he saw Merlin sprawled on his arse, only held up by leaning back on his arms.
Merlin shut his eyes and took several deep breaths. “Um…yeah…I think so.”
“What happened?”
Merlin opened his eyes, and found the room to be not swimming around him as much as it was before.
“Stood up too fast, I guess?”
At Arthur’s dubious look, Merlin added, “The collar…I’m getting worse.”
Arthur frowned, before crawling over to Merlin’s side. “Need me to help you up?”
Merlin shook his head. “I’ll just…wait it out…”
At that point, Collins came in.
“What’s got into you?” he asked, amused, when Arthur glared up at him while he was setting down the new food trays.
Arthur didn’t answer, instead shocking Merlin (and from the looks of his face, Collins) by wrapping a protective arm around Merlin while continuing to glare up at the man.
As soon as he left, Merlin turned to Arthur and asked, “What was that about?”
“You’re ill,” Arthur said, as if that explained everything.
“Not yet,” Merlin said, pushing himself up so at least he wasn’t leaning on his arms. But when he tried to get up again, he fell right back down.
“Don’t,” Merlin said sharply when Arthur tried to help him up.
“At least sit against the wall,” Arthur said, winding his hands through Merlin’s resistant arms to push him back against the wall. “So you can eat.”
Merlin hated how much relief he found by leaning against the wall, especially once Arthur brought them their meager breakfast.
“I was fine last night,” Merlin said.
“You’ve been exhausted for ages, even though we do absolutely nothing,” Arthur said, sitting next to Merlin and balancing his tray on his knees. “So…you have to be ill, because nothing we do could possibly make us tired.”
“We don’t get much food,” Merlin offered, looking down at his forlornly. “Not that I feel like eating much, anyway…”
“I know, it’s awful,” Arthur said, biting into what looked like a sausage.
“No, that’s not it, I used to eat meals like this all the time,” Merlin said, and before Arthur could stare in horror, he added, “I just…don’t feel like eating.”
Arthur remembered the last time he was ill and nodded. “I think you’re supposed to eat it anyway.”
“I don’t want to throw up, though,” Merlin said, but sighed and started eating reluctantly.
“You’ll get even more ill if you don’t,” Arthur said.
Merlin nodded and in silence they finished eating.
He tried not to think about how relieved he was to be done with the meal, but he must’ve been obvious when Arthur offered to finish up or at least hold onto the last bits. But Arthur’d had a point, at least, about needing to eat, and this time when he stood up, he didn’t get dizzy, managing to walk in a bit of a circle before he sat down again out of tiredness, then Arthur got up and started pacing back and forth across the small room.
Merlin curled up on his pallet, watching wearily as Arthur flipped through channels on the telly to find something to watch. The news was largely about more failed rescue attempts and dissecting the King’s speech, and some American political scandal that had something to do with the economy and made no real sense to Merlin at all.
Arthur settled on something neither of them really cared for but watched anyway, and Arthur sat by Merlin’s head and said, “Need anything?”
“No,” Merlin said.
Later, though, he did.
He blushed furiously as Arthur hovered over him when he got up – on his own – to let Collins take him to the loo, and once he was blindfolded, he nearly fell over again when he tried to walk.
Collins got sick of him walking carefully with the wall for support, and ended up manhandling Merlin to the bathroom.
Merlin managed to not fall to the ground again when the blindfold was tugged off and he was shoved into the small space, so at least there was that. Swallowing down his frustration, though, he managed to take care of his bodily function and washed his hands and face, and was led back to their little room, where he sat against the wall as Arthur took his turn.
When they were left alone again, Merlin said, “I think I’m getting better. I could walk back. Mostly.”
“Right,” Arthur said. Merlin wondered if his lie was that obvious.
The low point of their week came when they were taken to the loo together, for once, told to strip, and handed a large bucket of water, some rags, and some soap.
“Wash yourselves,” Collins ordered gruffly. “Take your damn time, too. Can’t have you looking too bad for the camera, can we?” The man snorted as he bundled up their clothes, ignoring their furious blushing as both boys tried to hide themselves from each other, Collins, and in this situation even themselves, just a little. “Higher ups won’t have that…” he grumbled, before leaving, taking their clothes with him.
Arthur grimaced, holding his flannel over his crotch as he stuck a hand in the water. Warm, at least, so there was that much.
Not that it really helped.
What followed was an excruciatingly awkward wash as they faced away from each other on either side of the bucket, reaching back behind themselves to dunk their washrags into the lukewarm water and take some soap, trying not to slip and slide across the floor as water and soap drained down their bodies and collected on the tile floor.
Then Arthur heard a loud thud and glancing over his shoulder, he saw Merlin had fallen.
“Are you-”
“M’fine, just slipped,” Merlin said.
Arthur frowned, though, when he heard some squeaking noises on the tile and several more thuds. Then silence, broken only by a soft, mostly-suppressed sob.
“Merlin?”
“…I can’t get up,” Merlin said, frustration and humiliation coloring his voice.
“Um…” Arthur bit his lip, then using his rag to cover his own bits, turned around to see Merlin on the floor, facing away from him and the bucket. With a deep flush on his face, Merlin curled up, pulling his knees to his chest and using his legs to cover himself up.
“Can you stand? Or do you think you’ll fall again?” Arthur asked, using his nicest voice possible.
“…fall…”
“Right,” Arthur said, looking anywhere but at Merlin’s tomato-red face. “So, I’ll…” Arthur gulped, and started again. “I’ll help you wash, okay?”
“Okay,” Merlin mumbled, his eyes shut, face still red. Arthur could sympathize, and tried to make the experience as un-humiliating as possible.
In the end, though, it wasn’t as humiliating as Arthur had expected it to be. He even dropped his own rag after helping Merlin sit up, as he fell into the gentle rhythm of dipping it into the water rubbing some soap on Merlin’s body, and wiping it down.
He went slow, careful, lavishing his time over Merlin’s body, pale and slim as it was. Bony. He helped Merlin sit up, and washed his back, pouring water down his spine and spreading it across his back. Once that was done, he got Merlin to lean against a wall and focused on the rest of him.
Merlin jerked and wimpered when Arthur touched his neck, and Arthur sighed, saying, “It’s getting dirty under there…” And Merlin relented to Arthur cleaning under his collar. Arthur’s hands nearly shook with the rush of emotion that came with Merlin’s almost pained face, emotions that made him want to grab that bucket and run out and bash Collins’ and the Blesseds’ heads in, screaming at them and demanding to know how they could do this to one of their own.
But he couldn’t do that. So he cleaned under there instead, then swiped over Merlin’s shoulders and across his chest. Merlin shook when Arthur brushed over his belly, and he fretted before realizing Merlin was just ticklish there, and the spasm was as close to laughter as he could get. He was more careful after that, gentle, and Merlin sighed as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall.
Arthur unfurled Merlin’s limbs individually, washing each one with care as he soaked in the sight of it, took in the way Merlin relaxed under Arthur’s care and the warm water. Merlin wouldn’t let Arthur wash his bits, but Arthur did take care of his thighs and legs and feet and hips and everything else.
Merlin was even dozing off by the time Arthur finished, at which point Arthur finished washing up himself, then just sat there, keeping vigil over Merlin and waiting until Collins came and gave them back their clothes. When the man returned, Arthur dressed and helped Merlin dress, before they were taken back to ‘their’ room. They were so tired, Tom didn’t even bother blindfolding them.
(Arthur didn’t forget their path, though)
Once back in the room, Merlin said sincerely, “Thank you,” and Arthur accepted it.
Then they promised never to speak of it again.
Merlin seemed to feel a bit better, the next day.
But that didn’t really help much as the news unfurled across the telly screen. Arthur winced and stared in shock at his parents pleas being broadcasted, pleas for contact, even a demand they could try to meet.
“I can’t believe people are airing this,” Arthur said, watching those videos his father and Merlin’s mother be dissected. The messages were brief, spoken from behind their desks. Even his father’s voice seemed off and his hands trembling, Merlin’s mother’s skin pale, exhaustion and fear radiating even across digitalization and wires and airwaves. Short messages, asking what the Blesseds wanted, what it would take to get their sons back.
But for such a thing to wake up to on New Year’s Day…
Collins laughed when he came in and saw that.
“Loving watching your parents act like this?” He turned to Arthur. “Bet your father never shows emotion like this.”
Wrong! Arthur wanted to scream at the man. He turned away bitterly, instead, grumbling, “I wish you’d just not given us the telly so we wouldn’t have to watch this.”
Merlin narrowed his eyes at the man. “Why did you give us a working telly, anyway?”
“To keep you distracted and make sure you shut up,” Collins said. He set their meal trays on the table and said impatiently, “Like I said, just because this can be unpleasant doesn’t mean it has to be. I’m pretty sure I told you this when you arrived. We hijack the signal and watch the telly in our own office, too, if it’s any consolation.”
As he turned away and left, Arthur couldn’t help but say, “He really needs to look up the definition of the word ‘consolation’ in the dictionary.”
Merlin chuckled, his body into it, in the way Arthur was sure would have been laughter if Merlin felt any stronger.
Merlin bit down a grunt as he fisted himself under the blanket, wondering if maybe he should put off until tomorrow, when he would have a little more energy.
With a frustrated grunt, he let go of his prick and brought his hand up to his neck, running his finger over the collar, the stupid scrap of metal keeping himself locked away inside, his power and energy and everything.
“I hate you,” Merlin murmured to the collar.
“What did I do?!” Arthur protested form the other side of their pallet.
“Not you, this collar!” Merlin said, furiously stuffing his dick back into his jeans.
“Now what?”
“’Now what’ is that I’m actually too tired to wank…” He laughed. “Too tired to wank!” he added hysterically. He turned around to face a surprised and wary Arthur. “That shouldn’t be effing possible but it is and I’d know because I am actually just – this collar is taking everything away!”
“…not your life,” Arthur offered, hesitatingly.
“Not yet.”
“Well it probably won’t…?”
“I wish it would,” Merlin said. “Just to be done with this.”
“Don’t say that!” Arthur suddenly cried out sharply, turning around and clutching onto Merlin’s shoulder. “Don’t – don’t wish for death.”
“I’m not wishing for death, I just don’t want to wear this damn collar anymore!” Merlin cried out, jerking his shoulder away from Arthur’s touch. “And if I’m dead-”
“Don’t say that!” Arthur said.
“You’re not the one wearing this collar!” Merlin cried out. “You’re not getting your soul trapped by a scrap of metal and-”
“It suppresses magic, not souls, I think you’ll live,” Arthur said.
“It might as well be my soul for all the good that difference does me,” Merlin said bitterly, turning away and trying not to groan. He barely had the energy to turn around but he was still slightly hard. Damnit.
“Merlin…”
Merlin sighed again. “I just – this collar is taking everything already, but – if I can’t even wank myself off, then ho – how soon til I can’t do anything else, either, like breathe, or, or-”
His throat tightened up too much for him to talk anymore, and even though he knew it was from suppressed tears, it felt like the hellish collar had come alive and was choking him and he couldn’t breathe or wank or anything and he just, he just-
“What if I did it for you?” he heard Arthur say.
Merlin shut his eyes and swallowed a few times, before managing to force out, “Do what?”
“Wank you off – or finish you off?”
Merlin heard rustling cloth and then felt the sudden warmth of Arthur’s s hand on his shoulder.
“I mean…I can,” Arthur offered.
…he was so tired…
“Merlin?”
…and it wasn’t like he’d get better tomorrow…
“…Yeah,” Merlin said, wishing he had enough of his magic to get the ground to swallow him up at the thought of Arthur seeing his bare dick, at the thought of having someone else touch him, finish him off-
He jumped as he felt the warmth of Arthur’s chest at his back, then Arthur’s arms around his waist, blanket shifting around Merlin’s shoulders as Arthur’s hands moved to feel around his legs, and he nearly jerked right out of his skin when he felt Arthur’s fingers wrap around him, before going completely still, almost unnaturally.
“Okay?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah,” Merlin mumbled.
“Tell me if it isn’t,” Arthur said carefully, before he started moving his hands.
At first, all Merlin could think was this is weird, this I weird, this is weird, this is-
No one else had ever touched him there.
But there was that sheer good feeling, warmth in his veins adding to the heat from Arthur’s hands and body wrapped around him, that almost dizzy-but-not-quite feeling in the back of his head that came with wanking, the feeling of his bones and muscles trying to liquefy, his eyes rolling to the back of his head from the sensation…
And when he came, it came with the feeling of utter relief, as if every bad feeling he’d been battling since he was kidnapped flowed out of him along with the semen that now covered Arthur’s hand-
-and that brought him back to the fact that someone else, that Arthur, had just wanked him off.
He lay there, slumped in Arthur’s arms as Arthur found the shred of napkin Merlin saved for this and wiped off his hand.
But when he was clean and had extracted his arms from around Merlin, he didn’t move away, and Merlin was too wrung out to do much but lean into Arthur and doze off, deeper and deeper into the realm of dreams.
Part 5
