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kleinefee92
Title: Nothing on earth that should keep us apart
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Whatever passes for the sun in this hopeless place beats down upon pale flesh, turning it pink with exposure.
Warnings: Discussion of past character death, dehydration
Word Count: 720
Prompt: Hunk du Jour
Author's Notes: So, this is a whole heck of a lot little less steamy and fun than I'm sure this prompt was meant to be - but that's probably not all that odd, coming from me, is it? This is another short piece for my Merlin/Hunger Games AU. The title for this piece comes from Nelson's (I can't live without your) Love and affection.
Whatever passes for the sun in this hopeless place beats down upon pale flesh, turning it pink with exposure. For the past two days, they have gone shirtless. In the beginning, it proved a hefty distraction, their eyes often drawn to each others’ bare skin. Now, they are too tired to find any pleasure in the view. They would put their shirts and jackets back on if they could, but the stifling, all-consuming heat makes even the faintest glimmer of the idea repugnant.
To make already horrid matters infinitely worse, their water supply ran out four hours ago, in spite of how carefully they have been rationing. Arthur shoots what feels like the hundredth worried glance in the past hour toward his companion, takes in the way his normally soft and lush lips are now dry and cracked, the shadows that stand out starkly against his steel-blue eyes.
A mere fraction of a second later, he is overwhelmingly grateful to have turned his gaze toward Merlin, as it allows him to catch the other boy before he can stumble into the pit which - whether by another tribute’s or the Capitol’s design - is deep enough that the fall would more than likely have killed Merlin instantly.
In spite of the extra heat which comes with such close contact, Arthur clutches Merlin tightly, feels the way that both of their pulses rise in response to this near-miss, though everything is more sluggish than it would be if they had some fluids running through their systems. They stand there, letting time stretch out around them.
If he could, he would block out the rest of the world, would simply revel in the life he holds in the circle of his arms. However, years of training for the Games cannot be denied so swiftly, and so even as he breathes in Merlin’s scent, still recognizable under days’ worth of dirt, grime, and the blood of tributes already gone, Arthur remains aware. He hears the rustling of a rodent in a tree several feet back, hears a great bird sounding his superiority in the sky above them, and beyond that, he hears something that succeeds in shocking him away from the boy in his arms.
“Is that...?” Merlin begins warily, his mouth too dry to actually complete the query.
Arthur’s lips stretch into a smile, his first in several hours. They made it.
Hand in hand, the two of them stumble to the source of their enthusiasm, falling gratefully to their knees upon reaching it.
Far from the tiny creek Arthur had imagined when he first heard the soft, soothing sound of the water, they have come to the bank of a river. Beside him, Merlin slides his pack off of his shoulder, pulling out the vital vial of iodine and their water bottle. He fills it and then sets it down by the pack, then meets Arthur’s eyes, a glint of mischief appearing in his own eyes, which had been dull and starving for hope only minutes before.
Arthur quirks an eyebrow Merlin’s way, and watches as the other boy uses nimble fingers to unlace heavy leather boots and strip off soiled and dingy cotton socks. His other eyebrow joins the first upon seeing Merlin unsnapping his trousers and sliding them down lean, lightly muscled legs.
Merlin cocks his head at Arthur, silently asking, Are you coming?
Shrugging, Arthur follows his example, and they wade into the river, sighing as the coolness seeps into sore and weary skin. Moving further in, he bends his knees and submerges himself, tugging gently on the wrist poised above him. Merlin complies, and they sit upon the riverbed until Arthur feels the need for air, rising to the surface with a great gasp.
The tribute in him prompts Arthur to scan their surroundings after wiping the excess water from his eyes, checking for predators and other undesirable company, as well as ensuring that their supplies remain uncompromised. However, he is distracted from his vigilance by the hands which twine about his shoulders, dragging him in for a fervent, endlessly relieved kiss. It may not be the most comfortable of their interludes, considering their impending sunburns and dehydration, but he cannot bring himself to care.
Merlin is here, and whole, and will soon be healthy, and for now, that is all that matters.
It might be the only thing that ever matters to Arthur again.
kleinefee92Title: Nothing on earth that should keep us apart
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Whatever passes for the sun in this hopeless place beats down upon pale flesh, turning it pink with exposure.
Warnings: Discussion of past character death, dehydration
Word Count: 720
Prompt: Hunk du Jour
Author's Notes: So, this is a
Whatever passes for the sun in this hopeless place beats down upon pale flesh, turning it pink with exposure. For the past two days, they have gone shirtless. In the beginning, it proved a hefty distraction, their eyes often drawn to each others’ bare skin. Now, they are too tired to find any pleasure in the view. They would put their shirts and jackets back on if they could, but the stifling, all-consuming heat makes even the faintest glimmer of the idea repugnant.
To make already horrid matters infinitely worse, their water supply ran out four hours ago, in spite of how carefully they have been rationing. Arthur shoots what feels like the hundredth worried glance in the past hour toward his companion, takes in the way his normally soft and lush lips are now dry and cracked, the shadows that stand out starkly against his steel-blue eyes.
A mere fraction of a second later, he is overwhelmingly grateful to have turned his gaze toward Merlin, as it allows him to catch the other boy before he can stumble into the pit which - whether by another tribute’s or the Capitol’s design - is deep enough that the fall would more than likely have killed Merlin instantly.
In spite of the extra heat which comes with such close contact, Arthur clutches Merlin tightly, feels the way that both of their pulses rise in response to this near-miss, though everything is more sluggish than it would be if they had some fluids running through their systems. They stand there, letting time stretch out around them.
If he could, he would block out the rest of the world, would simply revel in the life he holds in the circle of his arms. However, years of training for the Games cannot be denied so swiftly, and so even as he breathes in Merlin’s scent, still recognizable under days’ worth of dirt, grime, and the blood of tributes already gone, Arthur remains aware. He hears the rustling of a rodent in a tree several feet back, hears a great bird sounding his superiority in the sky above them, and beyond that, he hears something that succeeds in shocking him away from the boy in his arms.
“Is that...?” Merlin begins warily, his mouth too dry to actually complete the query.
Arthur’s lips stretch into a smile, his first in several hours. They made it.
Hand in hand, the two of them stumble to the source of their enthusiasm, falling gratefully to their knees upon reaching it.
Far from the tiny creek Arthur had imagined when he first heard the soft, soothing sound of the water, they have come to the bank of a river. Beside him, Merlin slides his pack off of his shoulder, pulling out the vital vial of iodine and their water bottle. He fills it and then sets it down by the pack, then meets Arthur’s eyes, a glint of mischief appearing in his own eyes, which had been dull and starving for hope only minutes before.
Arthur quirks an eyebrow Merlin’s way, and watches as the other boy uses nimble fingers to unlace heavy leather boots and strip off soiled and dingy cotton socks. His other eyebrow joins the first upon seeing Merlin unsnapping his trousers and sliding them down lean, lightly muscled legs.
Merlin cocks his head at Arthur, silently asking, Are you coming?
Shrugging, Arthur follows his example, and they wade into the river, sighing as the coolness seeps into sore and weary skin. Moving further in, he bends his knees and submerges himself, tugging gently on the wrist poised above him. Merlin complies, and they sit upon the riverbed until Arthur feels the need for air, rising to the surface with a great gasp.
The tribute in him prompts Arthur to scan their surroundings after wiping the excess water from his eyes, checking for predators and other undesirable company, as well as ensuring that their supplies remain uncompromised. However, he is distracted from his vigilance by the hands which twine about his shoulders, dragging him in for a fervent, endlessly relieved kiss. It may not be the most comfortable of their interludes, considering their impending sunburns and dehydration, but he cannot bring himself to care.
Merlin is here, and whole, and will soon be healthy, and for now, that is all that matters.
It might be the only thing that ever matters to Arthur again.
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Date: 2013-01-30 08:28 pm (UTC)I try to always make the final line count, so it's great to hear that you enjoyed it.