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Into the Dark

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“Come out, Emrys. I know you're there.”

The Angel turns and his gaze hardens as the figure steps out of the shadows, a smirk prominent on his face. The bright moon illuminates his features, making pale skin glisten in the light, blue eyes narrowed in amusement.

“Eloquent as always, little angel. Eloquent and as charming as the day we met.”

Arthur scowls at the memory, but doesn't dare to tear his gaze away from the Demon. “And it seems you're still as cheeky and undesirable as always, Merlin.”

Merlin chuckles quietly, licking his lips. “I do so love it when you say my name. It seems so...personal, doesn't it?” he takes a step forward and the winds pick up, and Arthur knows what's coming. He blinks for but a second, and the Demon has disappeared, voice carrying on now from behind him. “And whilst I do enjoy your company, Arthur, I have to ask. What brings you into the darkness?”

Arthur doesn't give him an answer. He doesn't have one. He purses his lips and grimaces, not turning to look at him. He can practically hear Merlin's smirk widening, the small chuckle escaping his lips audible in the silence.

“Perhaps...you wanted to see me?”

“Never,” the Angel spits, and he knows the Demon is but a few paces behind him. He swirls, fist outright to just give him a good sock in the face (like he's always wanted to do), but Merlin steps back with ease, catching him by the wrist and, with the momentum Arthur builds up, the Demon tugs him an inch further, brushing his cold lips against his, not quite a kiss, but definitely something akin to it.

“Touchy, touchy...” Merlin muses, meeting his gaze as fingers tighten painfully around his wrist. “Didn't you try that the first time we met, too?”

Arthur yanks at his wrist, despite the grip Merlin has on him. “Let go of me, you filthy--”

“Filthy?” Merlin repeats, then barks out a laugh. He pulls him closer, toe-to-toe, trailing chill fingers over his cheek. He tilts his chin upwards. “If anyone is filthy, it is you, little angel.”

“Don't touch me,” Arthur hisses, jerking his face away from his hand. He yanks again at his wrist, but Merlin's grip doesn't falter. “I don't want to be tainted with your greed.”

The Demon still looks quite delighted by his resistance, but he lets go, fingers now tracing along the inside of his wrist. Arthur doesn't move away. “Really, now? I beg to differ. I think...you like it when I touch you. Despite how you deny it.”

Anger burns deep in his stomach, cheeks flushing. “How dare you! I am an Angel of the Lord--”

“Yes, yes, Arthur,” he drawls, sounding bored. Arthur can see him rolls his eyes. “You are an Angel. But even an Angel such as you can fall to temptation.”

The amused tone is back. The Angel scowls, pulling his wrist beyond his touch, taking a few steps back. “It's disgusting you would even suggest such a thing. Angels are pure and chaste, unlike you and your sickening kind who think of nothing beyond their own gain and desire--”

“You play the fool, and if one didn't know you properly, they would believe it,” Merlin coos, stepping back and Arthur watches as he fades into the shadows again, his voice trailing around him. “You think us Demons as creatures with no pride, or dignity. No shame, no sense of order. No duty, no loyalty. No, no, you're wrong, so wrong, little angel. We are much more than that. And you know it well,” the demon's voice murmurs, an edge of something lining his voice, something dark.

A pause. Then, a smile, the gentle lilt of amusement returning. “As for your...purity, well, I don't think your heart is as pure as you like to say it is.”

Arthur opens his mouth to retaliate, to argue back, but Merlin goes on, “I said so once, Arthur. Angels...while they swear to be pure and clean, even they may fall to their own desire. Our bodies want what they want, there's no stopping it. There's no shame in it, really. Everyone does. Man, Demon, even Angels...”

The Angel sucks in a breath as Merlin's fingers are suddenly felt tracing the contours of his back, light touches over his skin and without warning, for no reason, he shivers at the contact. The Demon smirks, as if his reaction was what he was expecting. He slips his fingers down to rest on his hips, leaning close to whisper in his ear, “Yes, you like that, don't you? You like the feeling of someone touching you with meaning, with intimacy, don't you? Little touches, I've barely done a thing, and still, you find yourself loving it, reacting to it.”

“Let go,” he murmurs, but his voice wavers, and instead of complying, the Demon just hums lowly against his shoulder. “Let go of me or I swear I'll--”

“You'll what?” Merlin muses, not at all threatening, wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling his body against his. Arthur tenses, but Merlin doesn't slacken his grip. It's not a tight hold, and Arthur knows he could easily break free. But he doesn't. “You are the light to my darkness. The temperance to my gluttony. The chastity to my lust. You are my opposite, my rival in every way, and yet, I cannot stop thinking about you.”

Arthur feels warm breath on his neck, and God, he wills his heart to stay at a steady pace, but it's near impossible with the close proximity.

“What is it about you, Arthur? What is it about you that drives me mad? Hm? What is it about you that makes me want as I've never wanted before?” Merlin presses a gentle kiss to the side of his neck, and to his surprise, the Angel lets out a shaky breath. He halfheartedly tries to pull away.

“I'll not give into you,” he says weakly, rapidly trying to boost his confidence. He's speaking more to himself than to Merlin. “I swear it.”

Merlin chuckles into his neck, but releases his grip, and somehow, instead of finding it easier to breathe, Arthur finds it harder.

“Your words mean little to me, Arthur,” the way his name curls on his tongue makes Arthur suck in a breath. “You will break, as all do. And when you find yourself wanting, wanting despite your silly vows...”

He leaves a ghost of a kiss on the back of his neck, the warmth of his lips fleeting on his skin. The Demon steps back, and the Angel doesn't have to look to know that he's already retreating into the darkness, shadows encasing him once more.

“You know where to find me.”