[ Arthur's sitting on his bed polishing Excalibur, his hunting blades already cleaned and sheathed in neat rows across the sheets ( for all that he bullies Merlin into it more often than not, there is something soothing and almost cathartic about the task that Arthur has privately taken joy in since he was a boy; mindlessly falling into it alongside Merlin moving about the room as he pretends to clean is nearly rote by now ). The sound of Merlin's voice only earns a noncommittal hum from the King until he hears paper being flipped. His head snaps up - ]
What the Hell are you doing in -
[ Oh. It's just the book. There are - other things - in that very same drawer that don't need found, thank you very much. Arthur scowls and sets Excalibur down on his bed, joining Merlin at his desk to shut the drawer with his hip and fold his arms across his chest.
Smooth as fucking butter. ]
It was a gift. [ A beat; his lips tighten, and his voice comes quieter. ] From Conan.
don't mind my rambling, I just like the idea of them domestically cleaning around each other ...
What the Hell are you doing in -
[ Oh. It's just the book. There are - other things - in that very same drawer that don't need found, thank you very much. Arthur scowls and sets Excalibur down on his bed, joining Merlin at his desk to shut the drawer with his hip and fold his arms across his chest.
Smooth as fucking butter. ]
It was a gift. [ A beat; his lips tighten, and his voice comes quieter. ] From Conan.