No. 81

Prompt: Merlin (TV), Arthur Pendragon/Merlin, I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth.
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Merlin could recognize his once and future king by touch alone, by smell; he knew Arthur blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. So when there was angry huffing and puffing and stomping boots on the cement floor of the homeless shelter, Merlin came awake in an instant, his heart pounding with joy, with elation. The other men in his dormitory grumbled and muttered. One of them even flung a pillow.

And then a hand was on Merlin's shoulder, and he breathed in the scent of clean linen. He opened his eyes.

Arthur hovered over him, peering uncertainly. "Merlin? Is that you under all those wrinkles and that beard?"

Merlin sat up, swatted Arthur's hand aside. "Of course it's me, you prat. And keep your voice down. Don't want to anger the matron. Might need to sleep here again."

Arthur's lips twitched into an involuntary smile at 'prat'. "No," he said, "you never need to sleep here again." He tugged, and Merlin came to his feet. He started to reach for his pack, but Arthur shook his head. "Come on. England's waiting for us."

They slipped away into the night.

"And for heaven's sake, Merlin, fix your face. I can't stand looking at you, like that."

"Yes, sire."

"And Merlin?"

"Yes, sire?"

"It's good to see you again."

"You too, sire."

"Stop calling me 'sire' and kiss me, you idiot."

"Yes, you prat."