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If there was one thing Merlin hated, it was travelling in the winter months.
This part of their route didn’t pass through any towns where they could spend the night in an inn and so they were forced to pitch a tent beside a small frozen-over lake. Their little campsite was partially in the cover of the small foothills but that didn’t do much to shelter them from the horrid weather.
The frigid wind kept whipping the heavy canvas out of Merlin’s hands, his fingers so numb with cold that he was struggling to pull it tight across the tent poles. Swearing loudly, his breath spilling from him in a white cloud in the cold air, he yanked at the canvas.
A strong leather-gloved hand grabbed the canvas, taking it from Merlin’s grip, and hammered the securing pegs into the icy ground. He dropped the wooden mallet back into Merlin’s hand.
“There, simple as that, Merlin,” Arthur drawled, his hand moving to cuff around the back of Merlin’s neck.
Merlin rolled his eyes, looking back over his shoulder at Arthur. The prince was, of course, smirking. Giving him a wry grin, Merlin let himself be pulled up and around to face Arthur.
“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Arthur murmured, leaning in so his lips were hovering just above Merlin’s.
“Thank you… prat.” Before Arthur could complain, Merlin leant forwards and secured their lips together. The burst of warmth when their mouths met a pleasant contrast to the chill that nipped across the rest of his face. The cold had chapped Arthur’s lips and they were rough against Merlin’s. He licked them gently with the tip of his tongue to soothe the cracks.
“If you two are going to be like that,” Gwaine said dryly, dropping the stick he had been poking the fire with. He flipped his hair out of his eyes and grabbed the three waterskins from the floor. “I’ll just go and refill these waterskins…” He stomped off in the direction of the lake.
“I’d almost forgotten he was here,” Arthur admitted, half guiltily, half amused as he pulled away from Merlin and watched Gwaine walk away.
Merlin smacked him hard on the chest, which had very little impact through his chainmail. Arthur had been planning on making the journey to Queen Annis’s land alone – well, alone with Merlin, of course – but his advisors had suggested taking a knight with them and Gwaine had volunteered. Arthur had grumbled about the lack of alone time he and Merlin would have together, but Merlin enjoyed having Gwaine around, and he knew Arthur did too.
Although he wasn’t going to complain about these few moments they could snatch while Gwaine was at the lakeside.
Arthur pulled Merlin in for another kiss, his hands tangling in the thick cloak around Merlin’s shoulders. Merlin let out a pleased sound. The hum of it vibrated up his throat. With a swipe across his bottom lip asking for entrance, Arthur slid his tongue into Merlin’s mouth and deepened the kiss. Arthur’s ears were cold where Merlin’s hands curled around the sides of his head, fingers twisted into his hair, thumbs brushing over his cheeks.
They broke the kiss when a loud crack echoed through the air, followed by a yell and a splash.
“Gwaine!” Merlin shouted, his head whipping towards the lake so fast his neck cricked.
Arthur was already running, his boots slipping on the icy ground. Merlin hurried after him. His heart was in his throat, beating wildly, as he shouted repeatedly for Gwaine. With the icy temperature of the air around them, Merlin didn’t even want to think how cold the lake water would be.
He skidded on a patch of ice and almost went down on his face, catching himself just in time with his hands thrown out in front of him. Arthur was shouting and Merlin could hear splashing and the creaking of more breaking ice. He scrambled back to his feet and crested the little rise of the bank to see down to the water’s edge.
Merlin was relieved to see Gwaine’s head was above the water. He’d clearly been under; his hair was plastered to his face. But he was just managing to keep himself up, slumped against the edge of broken ice, one hand clutched onto a rock on the bank. The colour was completely drained from his face.
Arthur carefully approached the edge, his expression grim. Gwaine tried to say something, a warning Merlin guessed, but his teeth were chattering so much he couldn’t get the words out. Falling to his knees, Arthur reached forwards for Gwaine, pulling him up, pulling him out of the water. Merlin sank down beside the prince to help haul Gwaine up onto the bank. The tide of freezing water that came with him soaked through Merlin’s breeches, bitingly cold against his legs.
Arthur pulled Gwaine to his chest and held him steady as Gwaine coughed, shaking so hard he collapsed against Arthur. His hands fumbled at Arthur’s arms, trying to grip him, but his frozen fingers weren’t responding properly. Yanking his glove off with his teeth, Arthur cradled Gwaine’s face, rubbing his hand over his cheek to try and impart some warmth.
“Back to the fire, quickly!” Merlin said urgently, trying to pull Gwaine up. Ignoring the pain seeping through his legs as his wet breeches clung to his knees.
Arthur stumbled up, heaving Gwaine with him. Merlin pressed close to Gwaine’s other side and together they carried him back to their campsite. Gwaine’s feet staggered along between them, his legs too weak to support him.
Lowering him beside the fire, Merlin knelt at his side, pulling at the clasp of his cloak; the sodden wool and fur were heavy and frosted with shards of ice. Arthur threw more logs onto the fire, stoking it up until the flames danced high and hot.
“Gwaine?” Kneeling at Merlin’s side, Arthur hoisted Gwaine up so his head was rested on Arthur’s chest. He began unfastening the buckles of the knight’s armour as Merlin pulled his boots off. “Are you alright?”
“I’m… f-f-fine…” Gwaine stuttered through fiercely chattering teeth. His lips were blue and Merlin didn’t like how fast he was panting for breath.
The wind still whipping fiercely around them, wicking any heat still in him, was making it worse. The frigid air tugged at Gwaine’s soaked long hair.
“You should be alright once we’ve warmed you up again,” Merlin told him, reaching to unbuckle his belt. “You weren’t in the water too long…” He hoped he was right.
“Here, I’ll lift him,” Arthur instructed. “Take his chain, Merlin,”
He firmly hoisted Gwaine into a sitting position, pulling the back of his chainmail up so that Merlin could tug the heavy armour over his head. The metal was freezing against his fingers, stinging and cold-burning the skin of his fingertips.
Freed from the weight of the chainmail, Gwaine began to shiver in earnest. And it only got worse when Merlin untied the front of his gambeson and pushed it back off his shoulders for Arthur to fully remove. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried to rub his hands up and down his arms, but the clinging fabric of his wet shirt tangled in his numb fingers and his hands jerked to a halt.
Merlin’s hands covered Gwaine’s, squeezing his biceps briefly before rubbing hard to try and draw the warmth back into his limbs. Gwaine’s heart was racing and Merlin could see the pulse thrumming in his neck; his body desperate to get blood flow circulating. Arthur was fumbling with the clasp of his own cloak, tugging it off his shoulders.
“Wait, let me…” Merlin paused him. “I’m sorry, Gwaine.” He peeled the wet shirt away from Gwaine’s icy cold skin, leaving goosebumps running across his chest and arms.
“’S’alright, Merls,” he stammered. He tried to curl his blue-tinted lips into some semblance of his usual smirk. “You jus’ wanna see me n-naked.”
“Yeah I do.” Merlin gave him a grin, his fingers already reaching for the ties of Gwaine’s breeches. His eyes darted up to meet Arthur’s briefly. The statement was actually much truer than Merlin was going to admit right at that moment. It didn’t really feel like an appropriate time to be flirting. The yellowy light from the fire flickered across the damp sheen on Gwaine’s chest and Merlin helped him shift closer to the flames.
As soon as the shirt was off, Arthur bundled his fur cloak around Gwaine, hugging it around him and rubbing his arms through the thick material. Merlin continued stripping Gwaine, now underneath the cloak. His breeches and braies skimmed off his legs, revealing bone deep tremors through his thighs. Gwaine tucked his legs up to his chest, pulling Arthur’s cloak tighter around himself and curling his toes under the hem.
“That’s it,” Arthur muttered reassuringly, still holding Gwaine tight.
There were a few large rocks littering the floor and Merlin gathered them up and dropped them into the fire, hoping to heat them enough to make warming stones to pack around Gwaine’s shivering form. He also pulled the blankets from their saddlebags, passing them to Arthur to wrap over Gwaine.
“It’s so c-c-cold,” Gwaine said rather unnecessarily after a few moments, when the freezing wind snatched at his hair again. He shuffled closer to the fire. But the fire and blankets seemed to be doing little to warm him and Merlin chewed his lip anxiously. They needed to get his temperature up higher, faster.
“Arthur, take your clothes off.”
“I really don’t think this is the time, Merlin,” the prince answered exasperatedly, shaking his head.
“Body heat,” Merlin explained, already standing up to shuck his cloak and jacket off. The wind whipped the jacket from his hand. “It’s the fastest way to warm him back up.”
Arthur hesitated, watching as Merlin dropped his belt to the floor and yanked his shirt over his head, then pulled his cloak back on. The prince let his hands still momentarily on Gwaine, before slowly leaning away from him and moving his hands to his own belt.
Arthur struggled out of his armour – Merlin would have helped him with the buckles and straps but he was too busy hooking the hot rocks out of the fire and wrapping them in his own discarded shirt. He ducked into the tent, thankful they had managed to get it up already; they needed to get Gwaine out of the wind. Laying the bedrolls out in the tent, all of them piled up to try and stop the cold of the ground leeching up through them. He placed the warmed stones on top of the bedrolls, covering them with another blanket. While out of sight of Arthur and Gwaine, he cast a quick spell to keep the interior of the tent warmer, as warm as he could possibly make it without giving Arthur cause to question it.
When he crawled back out of the tent, Arthur was down to just his shirt and breeches, looking decidedly grumpy as he began to shiver. Merlin gave him a quick kiss, murmuring in his ear, “It’s for Gwaine.”
“You know I’d do anything for him,” Arthur hissed back, that steely look in his eye that he always got when he was confronted with the enigma that was his feelings for Gwaine.
Merlin smiled, letting his hand rest on Arthur’s jaw for a moment, feeling the clenched tightness of his gritted teeth. He ran his thumb over the taut line of Arthur’s throat, kissed him quickly again and stepped back.
“Go and get in the tent,” he told him.
“I give the orders, Merlin,” the prince grumbled, out of habit more than because he thought Merlin would listen. Which was just as well; because Merlin didn’t listen. Instead he gave Arthur’s chest a light shove and moved back towards the fire to finish undressing.
“N-nice show,” Gwaine commented as Merlin shimmied out of his still wet and freezing breeches. Gwaine’s eyes were following the trail of dark hair on Merlin’s stomach that disappeared beneath his braies.
“Go in the tent with Arthur,” Merlin ordered using his physician’s voice. It had little effect on Gwaine, who was still looking at Merlin’s almost naked body. But Arthur hooked an arm around Gwaine’s back and hauled him towards the tent flap.
Taking a quick moment to lay all of Gwaine’s wet clothes out beside the fire to dry, along with his own breeches, Merlin cast another spell to keep the fire going, before following the other two into the tent and tying the flap closed to keep the heat in.
The two of them were sitting beside the hot rocks, huddled together, Gwaine still in Arthur’s fir-lined cloak, Arthur still in his breeches and shirt.
Merlin huffed, gesturing at Arthur with one hand. “Clothes! Gwaine needs skin contact.”
Gwaine seemed to be about to make a cheeky comment, but a particularly violent shiver shuddered through him and all he could do was moan in pain. Merlin scooted closer. It was a tight fit for all three of them in the tent; usually only the prince slept in it, and Merlin had to move around only on his hands and knees.
He pulled Gwaine to him, running his hands over his cold face, pushing his hair back; it was still wet and dripping icy beads down his neck.
“Oh… this won’t be helping,” Merlin complained, annoyed at himself for not thinking sooner.
“Here.” Arthur passed the shirt he had just taken off, the fabric retaining a little of Arthur’s body heat.
Gently, Merlin towelled Gwaine’s hair as dry as he could get it with Arthur’s shirt. Gwaine made soft noises as the warmish material dragged over his head, quickly soaking through until it couldn’t dry anymore and Merlin discarded it. Arthur wrapped it around the warming stones, repositioning them at the top corners of the tent.
Running his fingers through Gwaine’s sort of dried hair, feeling the chill of it down to his scalp, Merlin frowned. He tugged at the neckerchief he hadn’t removed from his neck, loosening the knot and slipping it off. The cold hitting his throat made him wince but that didn’t stop him from carefully folding the neckerchief into a large triangle and tying it like a bandana over Gwaine’s head, tucking the loose ends of his hair under the cloth, one single waving lock falling across his forehead.
Gwaine huffed a small laugh, the chattering of his teeth spoiling the indulgent smile he gave Merlin.
“Suits you,” Arthur said quietly, one hand rising to stroke over Gwaine’s covered head. Gwaine leant into the touch fractionally.
“Right.” Merlin nodded. “Take the cloak off – believe me,” he said when Gwaine gave him a startled look at the thought of losing the cloak’s meagre warmth. “You trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
Merlin unfastened the cloak from around Gwaine’s neck, pushing him to lie on the piled bedrolls then draping the cloak back over his naked body, followed by the three blankets. Then he took his cloak off too and added it to the pile. He looked over at Arthur and gave him a nod, lying beside Gwaine and wiggling underneath the heap of blankets.
He hissed as Gwaine’s icy skin came into contact with his own. But quelled his natural instinct to flinch away and instead pulled Gwaine into his arms.
The shivers that shook Gwaine were so strong that they made Merlin shake too, but he just wrapped his arms tighter around Gwaine and held him close, chest to freezing chest. Sliding his hand onto the back of Gwaine’s neck, he tucked his head underneath his chin, unable to stop the flinch when the knight’s icy nose touched the hot skin in the dip of Merlin’s collarbone.
“Sorry,” Gwaine whispered against him.
“That’s alright, shh,” Merlin muttered, rubbing his hands up and down Gwaine’s back.
Gwaine yelped, jerking in Merlin’s arms.
“Stay still,” Arthur said and Merlin looked down to the end of the tent, where Arthur – now dressed only in his braies – had lifted the blankets and was tugging his own warm dry socks onto Gwaine’s feet.
“Tickles,” Gwaine laughed.
Arthur chuckled, finished pulling the socks on then tucked the blankets back around Gwaine’s legs.
“Get in here, Arthur,” Merlin directed. “He needs more warmth.” Gwaine was still trembling, his fingers like icicles against Merlin’s chest.
Arthur scooted closer, lifting the blankets and making Gwaine whimper as the cold air gusted across his back. But not for long; a second later, Arthur was curling against Gwaine, pressing himself to the knight’s back. Enveloping him in warmth. One hand leaving Gwaine’s back, Merlin trailed his fingers up Arthur’s side, their eyes meeting over Gwaine’s head.
“Love you,” Arthur mouthed and Merlin smiled. Arthur glanced down; Gwaine had his eyes squeezed shut, his face pressed to Merlin’s collar. “And him,” Arthur added silently. Merlin’s smile grew.
“Tell him,” Merlin answered, equally silently.
Arthur pulled a face.
“What’re you two talkin’ about?” Gwaine slurred. He lifted his head and turned to look over his shoulder at Arthur. Pushing up on one elbow, Arthur leant more over Gwaine, hovering above him so Gwaine didn’t have to turn so far from Merlin in order to see him.
Arthur frowned. “Your lips are still blue,” he said worriedly, then before Merlin or Gwaine could say anything he cupped his hand under Gwaine’s chin and pulled his mouth up to meet his own.
Merlin wasn’t going to lie, a thrill shocked through his chest as Arthur’s lips moved near desperately against Gwaine’s, a small whine escaping the prince’s throat. Arthur’s tongue darted between them and he sucked Gwaine’s bottom lip into his mouth. All the while running his thumbs through the scruff of beard on Gwaine’s jaw.
By the time Arthur pulled back, Gwaine’s lips did look a more healthy shade of pink. Arthur ran a fingertip over them, grinning smugly.
“That’s better.”
“What was that for?” Gwaine asked, his eyebrows dipping as his eyes darted between Arthur’s. Arthur leant back.
“To warm you up,” he answered shortly. Merlin could see the clench in Arthur’s jaw again. He was feeling unsure about what he’d just done. Not regretting it but doubting whether it had been the right thing to do.
“Is that the – the only r-reason?” Gwaine’s teeth clacked together, his own jaw clenching as well as he tried to stave off the shivers.
Arthur looked away, letting his elbow slide down so he was lying against Gwaine’s back again and Gwaine couldn’t see his face. Merlin pinched sharply where his hand still rested on Arthur’s hip. Making Arthur’s head jerk back up so he could glare at Merlin over Gwaine’s head.
Merlin ignored Arthur and turned Gwaine’s face towards him instead. He looked better than earlier; a slight pinkness to his cheeks at last, but his eyelids were drooping with exhaustion. The freezing cold and the effort of keeping his head above the water had sapped a lot of his energy. But Merlin didn’t want him to sleep until he was happy that his temperature was a little higher.
“You still need more warming?” he offered with a little quirk of his lips.
“Could do with a little more,” Gwaine hummed, catching onto Merlin’s offer and nodding.
His lips were colder than Merlin’s when they met, but not as cold as the rest of him. Arthur had done a good job. The rough scrape of beard against Merlin’s chin was different from Arthur’s smooth clean shaven jaw line, but no less enjoyable. Gwaine moved his tongue languidly, letting Merlin take the lead. Whether because he was still drained and weary, Merlin wasn’t sure. He had always imagined Gwaine might be more dominant at this. But it was immeasurably pleasurable coaxing him into a deeper kiss, his hand cradling the freezing cold nape of his neck.
He could hear Arthur making small grumbling noises, but Merlin kept his eyes shut and his focus on the slide of lips. Gwaine pressed closer to Merlin’s body, every cold inch of his skin making goosebumps erupt where the two of them touched. Only Arthur’s hand finding its way onto Merlin’s hip was any indication that Gwaine was being pushing into Merlin by the prince. Gwaine gasped, a gruff sound at the back of his throat. His teeth had stopped chattering at last, his shaking down to just small shivers.
Squashed between the two of them, he was slowly beginning to warm back up. Particularly with their hands roaming over his torso, rubbing friction heat into his chest and back and arms. One of Arthur’s hands was on Gwaine’s front, stroking over his chest, sending pleasing tingles up Merlin’s chest as well as the backs of his knuckles brushed over his sternum. His other hand was on Gwaine’s thigh, squeezing and kneading the muscle.
Tipping Gwaine’s head forwards, Arthur kissed at the back of his neck. The prince’s hot breath swirled over the knight’s throat, making him tremble. Merlin followed the shiver with his fingertips, up to the underside of Gwaine’s stubbled chin. He kissed him again, pressing so close against his chest that Arthur’s hand was trapped. He could feel Gwaine’s heart beating fast.
“Gwaine,” Merlin murmured between kisses, pulling back to look Gwaine in the eye.
Blue eyes met green and Merlin let his desire and the question fill his gaze. Gwaine’s pupils widened with want. His gaze burned into Merlin’s for several long seconds before his eyes slid to the side and he gestured fractionally with his head back at Arthur. A grin spread across Merlin’s face and he nodded.
Arthur chose that exact moment to press his hips forwards against Gwaine, letting out a low growl that rumbled through the tent and caused heat to coil in Merlin’s belly.
“Oh,” Gwaine muttered.
“We want you,” Merlin enticed. His hand skimming low down Gwaine’s taut stomach, fingers brushing through the trail of hair then lower.
“Hey, remember,” Gwaine’s voice was husky in Merlin’s ear. “It’s cold so he’s not quite his normal glory.”
Merlin huffed a small laugh, placing a kiss to Gwaine’s cheek but not removing his hand. “We’ll just have to try this again when we’re warm back in Camelot then, won’t we?” He looked up and met Arthur’s eyes, hoping the prince wasn’t about to disagree with him.
“You’re welcome in my chambers whenever you want, Gwaine,” Arthur said quietly, and Merlin heard the soft vulnerability in Arthur’s voice that he only got when expressing his honest feelings.
Gwaine sank back against Arthur’s chest, the shifting of the blankets evidence of Gwaine reaching back to put a hand on Arthur’s hip. Arthur chastely placed a kiss just above Gwaine’s ear, right on the edge of the bandana tied over his hair. His nose rubbed across Gwaine’s temple, so soft and tender than Merlin’s heart ached to see it.
“I lov-” Arthur cut himself off. Then rolled Gwaine onto his back, lying on top of him as he kissed him firmly to cover up his blunder. It was a fierce kiss, all dominance and possessive heat. Not wanting to show that vulnerable side of him that had feelings. But Gwaine didn’t seem to mind Arthur’s control; he practically purred into it.
Merlin watched happily, his wandering hand sliding back off of Gwaine before it got crushed under Arthur’s weight pressing down onto the knight. Instead he let it rest on Arthur’s lower back, just dipping his fingertips below the waistband of his braies.
When Arthur finally rolled off of Gwaine, sinking back onto his side next to him, they were both panting, eyes dark. Arthur seemed to have balanced out his feelings again, settling back into his normal self rather than the vulnerable or aggressive sides. He ran a hand up and down Gwaine’s chest, pressing his body tight against his side.
“If I’d known all it would take was falling in a lake,” Gwaine said breathlessly, gazing flicking between the two of them, his usual flirty smirk spreading over his lips. “I would have done it months ago.”
“Ah, but it wouldn’t have been frozen months ago,” Merlin pointed out with a wicked grin.
Arthur snorted. “No, then we would have just laughed at you.”
“Prat,” Merlin said fondly, reaching over Gwaine to kick Arthur in the shin.
When he brought his leg back down, he tangled it with Gwaine’s, rubbing his toes up and down Gwaine’s calf. Gwaine gave him a soft smile, his eyelids drooping a little as he drew in a deep breath of an almost yawn.
“Thank you, for…” he trailed off, his eyes drifting to the flap of the tent, one hand vaguely indicating in the direction of the lake.
“Rescuing you like a damsel in distress?” Arthur drawled.
“No, it was more like a kitten who’d fallen in a bathtub,” Merlin teased lightly.
Gwaine chuckled, his hand finding Merlin’s hip under the blankets and pinching him through his braies. Merlin yelped and caught his hand, twining their fingers together and bringing his hand up to kiss his knuckles.
Another yawn slipped from Gwaine and he ducked his head, lifting his and Merlin’s joined hands to cover his mouth.
“Hey, sleep if you need to,” Merlin said, letting go of Gwaine’s hand so he could stroke down the side of his face, pleased to find the skin warm now. “We’re right here. We’ll keep you warm.”
“Don’t wanna miss this…” Gwaine whined, his hands running over Arthur’s hip and Merlin’s chest.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Arthur promised.
Merlin pulled Gwaine against him again, chest to chest, tucking Gwaine’s head under his chin, one arm winding around his back. Arthur shifted impossibly closer, plastering himself the length of Gwaine’s back, legs tangled together.
“We’ve got you.” The whisper was so quiet from Arthur that Merlin almost thought he’d imagined it. He lifted his free hand to brush the hair from Arthur’s brow, giving the prince a soft smile, eyes full of love.
A dark blush stained across Arthur’s cheeks, his gaze dropping away from Merlin’s. Jaw tense again. He was so insecure about his feelings. So self-conscious about having shown his heart so obviously. Too many emotions had swirled around the tent in the last half an hour.
“I’m glad,” Gwaine mumbled equally as quietly, tipping his head back to rub against Arthur’s clavicle.
It was just what Arthur needed to calm him back down, and Merlin could have kissed Gwaine again for so easily and subconsciously putting the panicking prince back at ease. Arthur’s hand curled around Gwaine’s shoulder, thumb caressing the warming skin there.
For a few moments the tent was silent, but for the slow breathing of the three of them, and the gentle rustle as Gwaine snuggled further down under the blankets, his face nuzzling into the light dusting of dark hair on Merlin’s chest. They both watched him with fond expressions.
The air in the tent was pleasantly warm now; the effect of the warming stones and their combined body heat – and the extra help from Merlin’s spell. But neither of them wanted to move away from Gwaine. As much as he’d been dreading the camping earlier in the day, now Merlin would be happy to stay bundled up here for ever.
“Is he asleep?” Arthur whispered a little while later, still stroking Gwaine’s shoulder tenderly.
“I think so,” Merlin replied. He could feel the regular puff of Gwaine’s breath across his collarbone.
“Did we do the right thing?” Arthur asked nervously.
“Pulling him out of the lake, yes I think so,” Merlin answered facetiously. Deliberately misinterpreting what Arthur meant, just to be difficult. It was what he usually did to pull Arthur out of his head when his worries got too deep. It worked, Arthur made an annoyed little sound at the back of his throat and reached over to flick Merlin’s ear. But when he next spoke, most of the anxiety had left his voice.
“Shut up, Merlin, you know what I meant. This?” He indicated to Gwaine, huddled between them. Ever so gently, he pulled the loose lock of hair that had fallen over Gwaine’s forehead back and tucked it behind his ear.
“I know what you meant.” Merlin met Arthur’s eyes, nodding. “Yes, of course we did.”
Arthur leant over Gwaine’s ducked head to kiss Merlin, slow and deep. “Thank you, Merlin. Love you.” Pulling back and pressing his forehead to the bandana over Gwaine’s head, he took a shaky breath and squeezed Gwaine to him. “Love you too, Gwaine,” he muttered.
Merlin felt the slight shift of Gwaine’s cheek as he smiled against his chest, giving away the fact that the knight clearly wasn’t as asleep as Merlin had assumed and that he had definitely heard what Arthur just said. But Merlin needn’t tell Arthur that.
He merely slid one hand down Gwaine’s side, rubbing circles with his thumb over Gwaine’s ribs, the other hand tangling back into Arthur’s hair.
“I love you too,” he whispered, truly meaning it to both of them.