This one takes place after S4 E3 The Wicked Day so spoilers for that. Kissing in this one, obviously.
I don't think this one is all that great and I'd like to keep working on it but I'm tired so I shall post it. I picture this taking place before all the previous things happen. Or in an alternate universe where they haven't happened. Whatever. I'm also probably playing up Arthur's sadness quite a bit. Oh well! It's my story!
Drunk Arthur was Merlin's least favorite Arthur. As stubborn and obnoxious as he was naturally, alcohol only tended to make him more so. And with the fact that Merlin would have to practically carry him back to his chambers, well, it was just a good thing that Arthur didn't drink often.
But one night, not long after Uther had died and things were uncharacteristically quiet in the kingdom, he insisted they all go to the tavern. Merlin had noticed he'd been painfully quiet for a few days and he was worried about him. So he was hoping that a night out with friends might help.
And it did. At first. He'd seemed to forget. A genuine smile adorned his face and his laughs were boisterous with life. Gwaine told his drunken stories while everyone listened. And when he broke out in song, Arthur even sang along, something he'd no doubt be mortified about and vehemently deny in the morning. But Merlin was just glad to see him so happy.
With more ale, though, he soon grew morose and retreated into himself. No longer smiling and laughing. It was clear to Merlin that getting him up to his chambers and to bed was probably best.
"Come on, Arthur. I think you should probably get some rest." He pulled Arthur up and started to half-drag him along, struggling with the stairs especially.
"Goodnight Arthur," Merlin said, several minutes later, and turned away from the large bed. As he reached for the latch on the door he heard Arthur whisper or whimper and turned back.
"Merlin?" he whispered.
"I want a goodnight kiss."
"You're drunk," Merlin said, gently, not daring to hope.
"No I'm not."
And for a little while he wasn't. His voice was clear and his eyes were sober. Merlin looked down at him, his blue eyes intense in that way that was currently turning his knees to noodles. And those lips that he couldn't stop thinking about. They would ruin him. Perfect pink destruction.
He sat down on the bed and leaned towards Arthur, slowly, wondering what exactly would happen at the end.
But before he could think more about it, Arthur moved to bring them together and suddenly, finally, Arthur was kissing him. And he was kissing Arthur. It was soft and lazy and warm and lovely. And when Arthur pulled away and looked at Merlin he felt his heart clench. The King lay back in his bed, eyes closed and smiling dreamily, a peacefulness in his expression that Merlin hadn't seen in a long time.
He smiled and said, "Goodnight Arthur."