A minor problem

pairings: Merlin/Arthur

Rating: R

Spoilers: No spoilers

Summary: Contemporary Au! After getting considerably drunk one night, Merlin wakes up to find himself in a rather attractive stranger's bed. Makig a very hasty exit before he woke up, Merlin grabbed the wrong pair of trousers and now the stranger is determined to get them back.

A/N: This will be in two parts, so expect to look for the last part sometime in the week. I blame this plot bunny on xloving_memoryx (at Live journal) because she was down right pushy about a one-night stand between Merlin/Arthur that turns into something more.

Merlin woke slowly, struggling up through an alcohol-induced coma as he fought to crack his eyes open. At that moment his senses kicked in and they were screaming at him like a bunch of over excited banshees. His head was hurting like a pack of workmen had moved in and were excavating in his skull with pick axes and drills.

Oh God.

His mouth tasted like something decidedly nasty had crawled in there and died. His stomach churned like a washing machine on spin cycle and he held back a suffering groan that was forcing its way out by biting on his lip. Wincing at the pale light filtering through the blinds, he buried his face in the pillow, trying to remember what the hell had happened.

Merlin remembered that the friends he shared a student flat with decided to go out and get totally plastered, something that Will had insisted was apart of a student's prerogative.

So they all went out. Merlin, Will, Lancelot and his best friend Gwen. Not having much money from their student budget, they headed to the Student Union that was serving cocktails that were cheap and mixed strong spirits that got you pleasantly trashed on the fumes alone. He distinctly remembered a drinking competition that landed him as the winner.

Which pretty much explained why he couldn't remember anything at all after that, certainly not how he ended up in someone elses's bed.

But he could fill in the blanks when his gaze fell on a head of mussed up blonde bangs spread out on the pillow beside him. He didn't quite know what he should be thinking in a crisis such as this, but he was pretty sure that ...didn't know blondes were my type wasn't something he should be thinking about.

Escape was probably the best course of action. Right.

Careful not to wake his one-night stand up (Now that thought was weird), he slipped from the sheets and stood, albeit unsteadily. The movement brought the ache in his ass to his reluctant attention and he bit back a groan. This whole mess was becoming increasingly embarrassing.

Hauling ass was definitely on the top of his agenda. The guy was obviously still asleep so now was the best time to yank on his clothes and stealthily sneak out without detection.

Clutching his head, he waited until the pounding that was caused by any movement dull to a dull throb. His heart was racing a mile a minute in his chest, the thought of getting caught any moment making his blood flow faster in his veins. Merlin stumbled to the end of the bed, scanning the floor for his clothes. He spared a covert glance at the sleeping form on the bed and hesitated. Now that he was more awake, he took in the lithe graceful body and wide shoulders. The sheets just covered the guy's modesty and Merlin's eyes honed in on the muscles of his chest and the nifty little triangle that curved in to meet between his legs.

Well.

He may have been completely smashed off his face last night, but he obviously had pulling talent to bag someone looking like that.

Blinking a couple of times, Merlin shook himself. Now was not the time to be oogling. Now was the time to be fleeing.

He hurriedly grabbed his hoodie and shimmied into his jeans with a small measure of difficulty that the truly hung-over can only have.

Finding his shoes clumsily discarded by the door, he picked them up and held onto them. Merlin thought it would be best to put them on when he was safely out of the house. Fumbling with the doorknob, Merlin managed to get it to open on the third attempt and he eased the door shut behind him before scrambling for the front door.

Fucking finally!

After getting out of the house and wandering around a very strange neighbourhood, Merlin then had a very embarrassing phone call to Morgana (as she was the only one with a car) and he had no idea where the hell he was.

After finding a local store, he described his locations and Morgana snorted with mirth. "How did you manage to get all the way out there? That must have been at least half an hour walk from the club."

Merlin gritted his teeth and growled petulantly. Gwen had obviously relayed the amusing night to her best friend. "I don't know," he said tersely.

Morgana just hmmed in that rather annoying way that made it all too clear that she didn't believe him.

Before he could launch into a petulant tantrum, she sighed. "Listen, just give me twenty minutes and I will be there. Stay put or I won't be able to find you."

Merlin refrained from shooting a sarcastic comment like where the hell would I go? Since Morgana was actually helping him out of this sticky situation. "Thanks."

"Your welcome, hun." And she was gone.

Merlin slipped his phone back into his jean pocket and sat down on the curb outsied of the store. He didn't want to look too shifty if he spent the whole of the time waiting for Morgana by staring at a bunch of vedgtables. He drew his hand up inside his hoodie to keep the nipping wind from numbing his fingers.

Morgana showed up half an hour later, the window rolled down so she could grin devilishly at him. "Need a ride?" She asked innocently.

Merlin just rolled his eyes and fell into the passenger seat. She pulled away from the curb as he slipped his seat belt on and he sighed in relief.

Morgana looked at him briefly, before returning her attention to the road. "You didn't end up in a ditch or something to sleep off the alcohol, did you?"

"Or something." Merlin mumbled and studiously watched the scenery flash by from his window.

Morgana smirked. "So you didn't end up going home with that attractive male specimen Gwen was raving about."

Merlin chocked on his tongue. "You what?"

"You, know! The blonde guy that you were practically wrapped around."

"That-I-um." Shit.

Morgana's smirk grew. "I'm surprised he would let you off easily. Gwen said he couldn't keep his hand off of you, especially you're a-"

"Alright!" Merlin practically yelled in order for her to shut up. "You win!"

Silence reigned in the car as Merlin battled memories from slipping towards the surface from his subconscious and Morgana stewed in her triumph.

"I didn't know you were the type to take little trinkets home with you from your sexual trysts, Merlin."

Merlin looked at her tiredly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

She gave a pointed look to his...lap?.

Confused, Merlin looked down at his lap or more specifically at his trousers. He groaned in horror. Instead of wearing his usual torn denim jeans, he was now sporting a too-big very expensive pair of trousers

He did wonder why he kept haveing to hitch his trousers up and trip a little too often over his shoes.

Oh Dear.

To Be Continued...

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