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This story continues when Arthur wakes up in bed with his manservant. Neither of them are wearing any clothes.
Merlin is sitting up, and Arthur realizes that he must be half-asleep, because he imagines Merlin's clothes are floating towards him. Dream or not, that won't do at all.
"Stop that." Arthur reaches out and smacks the curve of Merlin's bare arse. He smirks as Merlin jumps. The clothes end up on the floor, which is exactly where they should be.
"I see you're not planning to stop abusing me." The combination of Merlin's wry grin and bedhead and general nakedness is just too much, and Arthur hauls him down and pins him, unresisting, to the bed.
"Not even a little." Arthur assures him confidently, then sets about fulfilling that promise while Merlin laughs. It really is a nice laugh.
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Merlin is allowed to put his clothes on when at last the needs of Arthur's stomach outweigh the needs of other, lower portions of his body. He makes it down to the kitchens and back in record time. While Arthur (who had dressed himself while Merlin was gone; truly unfair) stuffs himself with his breakfast, Merlin scowls down at the dirtied, rumpled and twisted linens on the bed. He does not want to explain this to the laundress, so he doesn't.
"Glanhaer." He extends a hand out over the sheets and his eyes flash as the stains rub themselves out. He uses his magic to untangle the covers, though he fluffs the pillows by hand (it just isn't the same).
When he turns to steal a lump of cheese from Arthur's breakfast plate, Arthur is gaping at him. He can see half-chewed food in Arthur's open mouth, which is disgusting as well as funny. He takes a bite of the cheese and settles himself comfortably in one of Arthur's chairs.
"What? Did you think it was only good for saving your life?" He grins cheekily as Arthur recovers himself, then steals a piece of bread, too.
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Magic. Arthur's brain refuses to process anything else. Magic. Magic. Magic. Merlin is an idiot. (Well, perhaps not anything else.)
He manages to stop gawping like a landed fish as Merlin starts nattering away about some meeting of his father's advisors that Arthur is supposed to attend. As if he had not just scrubbed Arthur's sheets with magic, while Arthur was watching him, thus proving conclusively that he is an idiot. An idiot who uses magic, and the loop in his head begins again.
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Neither of them actually talk about it.
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That night, Merlin lights the fire in Arthur's chambers from the other side of the room, with a word. Arthur means to confront him. At swordpoint, if necessary, because Merlin is clearly untrustworthy. (Arthur is not going to contemplate the thought that if Merlin can light things on fire from across a room, Arthur's sword may not be entirely effective. Or at all effective.)
Merlin's hands wander while he undresses Arthur and completely fails to re-dress him for bed. Merlin also completely fails to rise from his knees after removing Arthur's trousers.
A little while later, Merlin finally stands, wiping a shining stripe of fluid from the corner of his mouth and staring at Arthur with dark eyes. At that point, Arthur sets aside his concerns about sleeping with a sorcerer who also happens to be his manservant. He has more important things to worry about.
For instance, the fact that Merlin is still wearing trousers.
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In retrospect, Merlin's ridiculous concerns about being executed make a lot more sense.
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Merlin continues to do things around him. Little things, like polishing Arthur's sword without using his hands (not a euphemism, though there's plenty of that, too). Or blowing the candles out at night with a breath of wind, never leaving the circle of Arthur's arms. The things he wants or needs--clothes, books, cutlery, Arthur's armour, bits of Arthur's meals--jump into his hands with a golden flash of his eyes.
In the midst of this, Arthur is reassured by the fact that Merlin still has not remembered to take his boots to the cobbler. (Being reassured by it is not the same thing as being happy about it.)
Merlin is still a terrible servant. But Arthur's baths and food never cool, his sheets and clothes are clean every morning, and his armour gleams.
Also, Merlin likes to cuddle, and Merlin knows the spot to lick on Arthur's neck that makes him shiver, and Merlin likes slow, lazy sex in the morning, and Merlin likes to be kissed.
Arthur, as it turns out, is not opposed to any of those things.
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Also, Arthur is not as opposed to sorcerers as he thought he was.