Just Sex

*.*.*.*.*

The way he peppered kisses down Merlin's jawline felt like it more than answered all of Merlin's lingering doubts. The way he caught Merlin's lips and kissed him so sweetly and gently as he positioned himself felt like it meant something. The way he whimpered and moaned Merlin's name—like a plea some nights, like a promise others—as he fell apart at the seams…

Well, it all as good as added up, didn't it? It all meant something, didn't it?

But.

There were nights when both of them lay spent in bed, sweaty and glowing with something or another… when he couldn't look at Merlin in the eye, when he turned away from Merlin as soon as they were finished, almost seemed to be avoiding his touch…

Nights like that made Merlin feel like these nights didn't matter to him at all. Which was fine, right? It was only sex, after all.

Except, to Merlin, it became more than that. The way his heart stuttered when they touched, the way his head swam when they kissed, the way he smiled when he looked Merlin's way during the day… Merlin wasn't sure when it had happened, but, somehow, he had fallen in love with him. And he didn't love Merlin in return, Merlin was all but sure. And yet that thought did not stop Merlin from wishing and hoping and thinking that just maybe…

After a while, it was harder to go about as though this didn't mean something more to Merlin and he decided, one day when they made eye contact during training, that he needed to know, once and for all—no matter how much the answer might break his heart—if he felt the same way that Merlin did.

"I love you." Merlin blurted out one night, on the sort of night when he wrapped his arm around Merlin and held him close after the fact. "And I need to know…" he took in a slow breath, then, licked his bottom lip before continuing with a stuttering heart in his chest. "If you… feel… anything like that for me, too…" He trailed off, breathless, and nervous, as he turned to face the man who he knew better than he seemed to know himself some days, searching his level, almost blank, contemplative face for an agonizing moment in which time itself stood still with the weight of all the hope Merlin could allow himself to place in what he might answer with—because there was always the slightest chance, wasn't there, that he—

"I'm sorry, Merlin," he replied, a sigh, a shake of his head all that it took to crush that hope, remind Merlin that this was never meant to be more than sex, a way to ease their tension, between friends anyway. This was never meant to turn into feelings in the first place. "But I do. So it looks like you're stuck with me."

Merlin chuckled, shaking his head, heart thudding much too erratically in his chest as he did so, relieved and happy—god, so happy—as he said, "You idiot," affection and relief painting his tone as he moved in for a gentle, easy going kiss, smiling against the gesture as he felt an arm wrap around him, hand finding its way to the back of his head to drag him closer still, relaxing in the moment in a way he'd never truly thought he would again.

*.*.*.*.*

When I first started writing this, I imagined the other male here as Arthur, however, as I kept typing, it kept changing in my head from Arthur to Gwaine to Lance and back to Arthur to whohaveyou, so, instead of picking one and naming names, I left that bit open for you to decide.