This is my first Merlin one-shot. And I've really enjoyed writing it, so expect more from me in the future!

This is dedicated to IceQueenRia, as a (bit late) Christmas gift. Check her stories out!You won't regret it!

Enjoy!

Merlin leaned against the window, watching as the rain slid down the glass. Long paths of water droplets slipped onto the sill, outside. It was raining so much that a small pool of water was already resting there. He looked outside and observed the merchants in the square. Some were still there, with their stands of fruit, meat and pottery, defying the weather. Merlin smiled. They wouldn't get any costumers that day; not with that weather.

He rested his head on his hand, still looking at the almost empty stone-paved square. Large puddles of water occupied, with ease, half of the space, and even the guards had found shelter on the bottom corridors of the castle. Some were really slacking off on their duty, Merlin noted. They were talking and playing cards. The only true workers that day were the poor merchants, and they weren't going to get any luckier that day. Not on that weather.

He look up to the sky and watched as the clouds grew even darker and nearer. The rain wasn't going to lift up until the next day.

The warlock sighed. He had hoped he would have gone out with Arthur that day. But the rain had surprised them, suddenly pouring on the unfortunate peasants. It had even been a surprise to the knights and the horses, which were ready for an excursion. Eager, even. They hadn't got many chances that winter of riding. But Merlin actually preferred it that way. He had learned to like that weather since he came to Camelot. Before, in Ealdor, it only meant he would get wet while on the fields, while working, but since he no longer did that kind of job, he stayed inside with the crown prince of Camelot. Like on that very day, when they found themselves confined to the bedroom, fireplace lit, warming the chamber's air.

"What's wrong, Merlin?" the blonde prince inquired, sat on a wooden chair, stretching his legs and resting his feet next to the fire. An inch more and the prince would've got a royal burn.

"Nothing."

Arthur sighed, not turning on the chair, his eyes examining Merlin thoroughly. He stayed in silence for a bit, hoping for the manservant to speak, then asked:

"Sit here."

And Merlin promptly obeyed, getting out of the coldness by the window, and sitting on a chair next to Arthur, being swallowed by the warmth of the fire. He must've smiled, for Arthur seemed really pleased with himself and a smug grin was starting to spread on his lips. Merlin admitted, he looked very beautiful at the fire light, something he had come to acknowledge over the many trips that they had taken, some of them demanding camping. The blonde locks of hair seemed to acquire an orange glow, a warm colour that contrasted to the wavering sparkles on the blue irises of the prince. His skin seemed to be even more clear and flawless, if possible, and darkness shadowed his neck, making his face look more concrete and touchable.

He smiled again, and turned to the fireplace. If only the prince knew how beautiful he truly was.

Arthur drew nearer Merlin's chair, and the manservant felt his eyes observing him. He turned his head again, before being captured in a kiss. Arthur put his hand on Merlin's chin, inviting him in, and Merlin responded. They entangled their tongues, feeling each other's breath on their faces, very sunny in such a gloomy room. But Merlin didn't notice if the room was as cold anymore, because Arthur was now dragging him to bed and he couldn't think straight. His hands fumbled up the prince's chest, immediately removing his shirt, interrupting temporarily the steamy kiss.

They stared into each other's eyes, and nothing in the world, the less the room mattered. They only saw themselves on each other's arms, wanting more confirmation of a previously admitted suspect. He let his hands slowly trail the path up the prince's back to his golden hair, forced him to sit on the bed, and sat on his lap. The blonde removed Merlin's shirt and threw it to the floor. Merlin gasped slightly at the sudden cold air. They were too far away from the fireplace for that heat. But there were other ways of warming up, he thought, smirking against the prince's delicious lips and Arthur cupped his head on his hands. Merlin broke the kiss, looked at the prince's pants, and unlaced them with his finger, shaking a bit, now not because of the cold.

Arthur seemed to have understood that, for he wrapped his hands around Merlin's, stopping him. He looked him in the eyes. That wasn't their first time, at all. But Merlin always felt anxious; of doing something wrong, of displeasing the prince, of delivering himself, with his body and soul, and don't have that same affection returned.

The prince's eyes softened, like they always did when they were intimate, and he spoke:

"I love you."

Softly, tenderly, calmly… That's the way the crown prince of Camelot spoke when they were alone. Each word so simple, yet looking so thoughtful; they came naturally, yet the glee they caused was something out of this world.

Arthur lifted Merlin's hand to his face and tilted his head, touching it ever so softly. His warm breath on the warlock's skin made him realize that his hands were cold, a fact that he hadn't noticed in the midst of the passion.

Merlin buried his head on Arthur's shoulder, closing his eyes, feeling the vital force on the prince's body; pulsing, breathing, so present that it made his heart ache. His hands found their way back to the lacings, and he untangled them without doubting. He knew his fingers were now warm, ready, as well as him.

They kissed again, not hesitating, and Arthur fell softly on the bed, Merlin on top of him. By this time, Arthur's pants had been removed, and Merlin's followed shortly.

Naked and vulnerable, yet showing no weakness, the prince flipped the manservant on the bed, taking his place on top of Merlin, possessively, putting his leg between Merlin's, making him spread them. His hand traced a line on the raven-haired boy's inner thigh, arousing him. A finger went up, and the warlock shivered under him, with delight; the same finger went down and he released a disappointed moan.

He saw Arthur smirk, and Merlin decided he was now acting his usual self: incredibly smug. But then, before he had the chance to tell him off, the blonde started licking his nipples; his tongue drew circles on that sensitive spot, and the warlock found himself containing a gasp and closing his eyes. But the prince gave him no rest, and his hand adventured higher on Merlin's thigh, almost reaching his cock, almost-… And then it went down. Then it climbed up again, this time touching Merlin's dick, and he released the gasp. Arthur would surely be satisfied with himself, for his mouth abandoned its post on Merlin's chest, and met Merlin's, melting and stifling another moan.

"Mhmm…"

The warlock felt Arthur's cock brushing his thigh, lightly, but very hard, and he realized the prince was at his limit. As if confirming it, Arthur slowly circled Merlin's entrance with a finger, driving it in and out.

He groaned louder; the fingers weren't still enough.

Arthur grabbed his leg by the knee, lifted it with a strong grip, and pushed inside him.

"Oh" Merlin moaned, helplessly, throwing his head back as the prince hit the spot. "God, Arthur…"

The prince was also desperate above him, his breathing getting higher and higher as the strokes got more confidant and fast.

"Mmmh…" he heard the prince say and he must've open his eyes in the middle, for he saw his face, all flushed and hot, but very beautiful above him. His head had dropped, in what seemed to be pleasure, but Merlin's mind was too hazy and confused and it felt so good for him to pay any notice.

"Merlin…" the prince moaned "Oh, yes…"

And Merlin was thinking just the same. How it felt so right, so good, when they went up and down the bed, in synchronized rhythm. How the prince stroked his cock, fast and deliciously. And Merlin was almost coming. Arthur slammed his cock further inside, harder, threw his head back and came.

"Merlin…Merlin…" he chanted.

The manservant only had time to notice the fine outlines of Arthur's adam apple before coming as well, his seed spilt on his belly.

Arthur was panting over him, still inside, as if trying to enjoy the most he could, like Merlin, but eventually he slid off and collapsed over the younger boy's body.

"I love you." Merlin muttered, echoing Arthur, minutes later, when he had caught his breath. He curled up on the bed, and pushed the sheets up. It was still cold. Arthur cupped the back of his head, and drew him to his bare chest. Merlin rested there, feeling completely happy and satisfied, his finger entangled on Arthur's. Suddenly, the room didn't feel as cold and empty any more, and they both smiled, not wanting to know how long would that satisfaction last. They wanted to enjoy each other's love.

"And I love rainy days as well." The warlock admitted, grinning, and getting a laugh from the prince.

Because it was true; rainy days were definitely the warmer.

Thank you very much for reading, please review and favourite, if you like it. Constructive Criticism is very welcome. And please notice that my first language isn't English.

Love,

Kironomi