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hoosierbitchTitle: make room in your history for me
Author:hoosierbitch
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Warnings: Rimming, comeplay
Summary: Arthur's been alone for a long time before Merlin comes along.
It never would have happened if he hadn’t been so bloody tired. But it had been a long, two-day march through muddy fields, and then a drawn-out fight with what he swore was an overgrown scorpion. It had ended right after Merlin had tripped over Arthur’s sword and knocked them both over. Thankfully, neither of them fell on the blade – and by the time they’d gotten back up, the scorpion had somehow caught on fire. Arthur was bruised, soaked, exhausted, his sword arm practically numb, his right knee swollen – and then they’d begun the return trip back to Camelot.
Merlin had made out alright. The only injury he’d suffered was the black eye from being too clumsy to stay upright without supervision. He’d ridden the whole way home. Arthur, who had needed to set a good example for the footsoldiers (who had lost too many good men) had walked. For two days. Through mud. In full armor.
“Merlin,” he said, when he’d finished his audience with the king and finally gotten a chance to retreat to his room. “Undress me.”
Usually, Merlin would just help him with the armor. Undo the latches Arthur couldn’t reach, the ties his fingers were too clumsy to pick out – sure, sometimes when Arthur was feeling more vindictive, he’d make Merlin pull off his shirt or strip on his socks at night (Merlin was gorgeous when he blushed hard enough to match his handkerchief). But the ritual of it existed for nights like these.
He barely managed to lift his arms when Merlin slid the vambraces from his forearms. Didn’t even bother to scold Merlin for the way he tossed the chest plate onto the table. He took off his own sword belt, after struggling with the buckle for minutes longer than it should have taken.
The leather was cold and wet between his fingers. The weight of his sword was a comfort, but not as much of a comfort as Merlin taking it from him and then sitting him down on the bed. He knelt between Arthur’s legs to untie the laces of his boot, and Arthur palmed himself through his trousers. He was half-hard already.
Merlin finished with his boots and braced his hands on Arthur’s thighs to stand. “I wish you’d suck me,” Arthur whispered. And he hadn’t meant to say it out loud – hadn’t even meant to think it, those thoughts led to dangerous dreams – he was about to cover it up with a bad joke when Merlin said okay, and pushed Arthur’s hands aside.
They’d not done this before. They’d never even kissed, or exchanged handjobs – he’d never even known that Merlin had feelings for him. That he’d even thought about this before. Merlin’s fingers untied his breeches swiftly. Arthur lifted his hips so that Merlin could slide the fabric down his thighs, just far enough. Then he leaned forward and sucked the head of Arthur’s cock into his mouth.
It was impossibly hot. Moist and warm and oh - the sensation of Merlin’s tongue, flickering on the underside of his head, right at the bundle of nerves that he’d apparently not been paying enough attention to – it was perfect, it was impossible, it was Merlin.
He propped himself up on one shaky arm and ran the other through Merlin’s short hair. Merlin made a small, pleased sound – it vibrated through his dick and he shivered. He’d had his dick sucked before, but never like this – Merlin sucked him gently. Careful with each inch of Arthur’s cock, teasing more than licking – no one ever treated Arthur like that.
He was tracing the edge of Merlin’s ear – another thing that made him moan, soft and surprised – and Merlin was halfway down his shaft when someone knocked on the door.
“Ignore it,” he said, keeping a hand on Merlin’s neck, trying to keep him from pulling away. But Merlin just shrugged out of his hold and kissed the head of his cock. A bit of precum glistened on his lips.
“It could be important,” Merlin said. And he laced Arthur’s wet breeches again, tight over his swollen shaft, smiling the entire time.
“I’m going to punish you for this,” he said, and Merlin just grinned at him, the infuriating little – “Hello, Guinevere!”
She smiled when she saw them. “I hope I’m not interrupting! I just wanted to see how you were getting on, after your trip.”
Arthur ushered her into the room and closed the door behind her. “We’re never too busy for a beautiful woman like yourself.” She laughed and blushed and Merlin glared.
They sat in front of the fire and chatted about the journey while Merlin cleaned his armor, piece by piece. And, yes, rust was always a worry, but that was really no excuse for the vehemence with which Merlin was scrubbing at the metal. “You’re going to scratch it,” he scolded, and Merlin blushed before he went back to glaring.
Gwen was – Gwen was the kind of woman who would make an amazing queen. Intelligent, even-headed, kind. And if she were a noblewoman – if she had had so much as a drop of royal blood in her veins – he would have asked for her hand already. But she didn’t, and there was no use in pining over things he wasn’t allowed to have. So he didn’t ask Merlin to leave, and didn’t ask Guinevere to stay. Instead, he kissed her politely on the cheek (breathing in some of Morgana’s borrowed perfume) and bid her goodnight.
“You’re leading her on,” Merlin said after Arthur latched the door. “Unless you’re planning on rewriting the laws about eligibility – ” The truth seemed harder to take when it came from Merlin, who always sounded a bit like petulant child complaining about his curfew.
“Shut up,” he said, and he had to work to force the words out. “Just - shut up.”
Because tonight he felt the weight of his responsibility in every bruised limb, every strained muscle, every second he looked at Merlin’s lips and had to remind himself to look away. The soft kiss Merlin had placed on his cock seemed like it came from a different person. Sometimes, Arthur wasn’t the king Merlin and Gwen wanted him to be. Sometimes, he was selfish and lonely and stupid. If he were a better prince, a better person, he would have kept them at arm’s length. Kings weren’t supposed to have friends. There was no way it could end well. Not for any of them. Camelot’s throne could only hold one person.
“You can take the armor with you and finish it in your quarters. I’ll want a hot bath in the morning before training – ”
He wasn’t expecting what Merlin did next. He’d expected a sharp retort, or an argument, or even silence – he wasn’t prepared for Merlin to step up behind him and wrap his arms around Arthur’s chest. It wasn’t a hug. It was – it was more intimate than that. Because Merlin was undoing the laces on his shirt while he kissed Arthur’s neck, and even though this wasn’t something they’d ever done before, it felt like they’d done it a hundred times. A thousand. Like they would do it for years to come.
“What are you doing?” he asked as Merlin’s long, clever fingers teased at his nipples before pulling his shirt over his head.
“Taking care of you,” Merlin replied. And he dropped the shirt onto the floor and then rubbed at Arthur’s cock, one hand over his breeches and the other sliding between the damp fabric and his skin. “It’s my job, after all,” he said, and he was laughing a little – nervous, maybe, but then he pressed his dick against Arthur’s ass, rocked it between his cheeks, and his laughter turned to breathy moans.
“If you – if you’re doing this because you think you have some sort of twisted obligation – ”
Merlin laughed again and started unlacing Arthur’s breeches. “I don’t even follow half the orders you actually give me, do you seriously think I’m going to follow ones you don’t?”
Arthur shuddered as Merlin pulled his dick out and started rubbing his thumb over the sensitive spot beneath the head.
“Have you ever been with another man before?” Merlin asked, and he stepped away and started walking backwards towards the bed. He was stripping as he went, and Arthur wanted to follow but he couldn’t look at the smooth expanse of Merlin’s torso and move at the same time, it just wasn’t going to happen. His nipples were pink. Small, tight nubs, and Arthur’s mouth watered with the urge to kiss them. “Arthur – answer the question.”
“No,” he said, flushing a little bit. “But I’m guessing you have?”
Merlin nodded. “Lots of times.”
“Slut,” Arthur said, and it was a vicious word but for some reason it made Merlin’s breath hitch and his eyes widen.
“Have you been with women?” Merlin asked, and Arthur glared at him.
“Of course I have, I’m not a virgin, Merlin!” Merlin looked him up and down and Arthur couldn’t help but blush. And feel proud of his body, that it made Merlin look at him that way.
“Did any of them ever lick your hole until you came?”
Arthur’s jaw literally dropped. “Are you insane? That’s filthy!”
Merlin licked his lips and Arthur couldn’t help but clench, imagining Merlin licking him down there – slowly, carefully, the way he had when he’d been on his knees – “I know you’re clean down there,” Merlin replied, and, fuck, he was taking off his pants. “I watch you bathe, in case you’d forgotten.”
Arthur had, in fact, forgotten. Merlin had seen him naked dozens of times – but he had never seen Merlin like this. He was beautiful. Too skinny, sure. But – lean, in a way Arthur hadn’t expected. And confident. His cock was long and hard and red, flush against his belly. He was stroking it idly and Arthur didn’t make a conscious decision but a second later his hand was intertwined with Merlin’s.
It was only a few seconds before Merlin tugged him closer and started jacking them both at the same time. Rubbing their cocks together with long, firm strokes, and Arthur bit Merlin’s shoulder to muffle the noises he didn’t know he was capable of making. Needy and desperate.
“I want to fuck you,” Merlin said. “Can I fuck you?”
He wanted to say no. It wasn’t a line he should cross with anyone. He needed to be the one in control. It was his life, his job, his purpose. “Yes,” he said, and Merlin maneuvered until they were both on the mattress, Merlin spread out over him, still stroking both of their cocks with his talented fingers.
Merlin came first, but Arthur followed quickly. Merlin jacked him through his orgasm, and as soon as he was finished, crouched between his legs. “Spread your knees,” he ordered, and Arthur pulled them up to his chest. “God,” Merlin moaned. “You’re being so good for me.”
Arthur didn’t particularly want to know why Merlin’s words hit him as hard as they did. Why it felt like he’d been punched in the stomach, all the breath knocked out of him. Like all of a sudden he felt an uncomfortable hollow place in his chest. He was good at strategy. Great at fighting. He was fair with his men, careful with his father, and for all of those things he’d been praised.
He couldn’t remember another time when anyone had praised him for simply – being him.
He was still echoing when Merlin’s hands spread his cheeks, and his tongue licked at Arthur’s hole. It was – it was wrong, and unfamiliar and – oh, gods. Oh, gods Merlin was licking inside of him, his tongue probing into Arthur and he didn’t know he could feel this good – didn’t know his body was capable of it. Merlin chuckled and Arthur flinched when the vibrations teased at the rim of his hole.
Then Merlin slid a finger in beside his tongue, and before Arthur could ask if he was sure he knew what he was doing, he – he brushed against – against something inside of him that made him shout, and let go of his legs, which fell over Merlin’s shoulders – it sparked from his ass to his groin, to his painfully hardening cock, his heaving lungs –
Again and again and again, Merlin pressed against that spot, and licked until his tongue stroked against it, until Arthur was close to tears, his cock dripping onto his stomach.
“You’re going to fuck me now,” he said, tugging at Merlin’s hair, because if he waited another minute he might die.
“No,” Merlin said. And he slicked up two of his fingers with the come cooling on Arthur’s torso and slid them both inside of him. He cried out at the new, terrifying stretch of muscles he’d never used before. “You’re so tight,” Merlin murmured, scissoring his fingers and twisting them from side to side. “And my cock’s a lot bigger than my fingers.”
“I want you,” he said. “I want you now, I want you inside of me, I swear to god I will beat you bloody if you don’t – ”
A third finger and he was sobbing, and Merlin was smiling at him again. He couldn’t order Merlin to stop because he couldn’t breathe, not when every thrust of his fingers sent fire racing through his body, pushing the air from his lungs, stretching him wider than he thought was possible.
“Okay,” Merlin said. And he left, for a minute, to grab the oil he’d been using on Arthur’s armor. Arthur stared at the canopy above his bed, his legs spread like a whore, his chest streaked with their combined semen, his lip swollen from trying to bite it and keep in the cries that threatened him every time Merlin looked at him.
“I’m not going to marry you,” he said, when Merlin returned.
“I know that,” Merlin said slowly, looking at him like he suspected brain damage. “It doesn’t matter how many times you say it, I’m not actually a girl. I thought you’d get over that, after seeing my cock and everything – ”
“I’m going to have to marry someone,” Arthur interrupted, and his hole was empty and his legs were spread and he felt open in so many more ways than just in his body. “I can’t make you any promises. I can’t promise to be faithful. I can – I can promise I won’t be, as a matter of fact – ”
For the second time that night, Merlin left him speechless. This time, it was because he kissed him. His lips were soft and dry and – and in this one area Merlin seemed as tentative as Arthur was. After a minute of their mouths pressing against each other, he licked at Merlin’s lips – and then at the tip of his tongue, coming out to explore Arthur’s mouth.
“I know who you are,” Merlin said, pulling back and slicking his cock and reminding Arthur that really, they were very much beyond kissing at that point. “You’re a prat, and you’re arrogant, and immature – and – ” The head of his cock breached Arthur’s hole slowly, and he bit his fist to keep from sobbing. “And you’re stupidly noble, and you – you care too much, sometimes,” and Arthur would have argued if Merlin hadn’t been splitting him open with his huge goddamn cock. “And no one takes care of you,” and he kissed Arthur again, pushing in another inch or two in order to get at his lips and stop him from turning his head away.
Merlin kissed him until he was all the way in and Arthur was thrusting up against him, trying to get him to move, because he kept brushing against that – that spot, inside of him, that made his eyes water and his legs turn to jelly.
“I thought about how you’d look,” Merlin said, sitting back on his heels and grabbing Arthur’s ankles to spread his legs wider. He wrapped Arthur’s legs around his waist, and held onto his hips, and started to fuck him. Hard. “I jerked off for – for months – thinking about this – ”
Arthur hadn’t let himself given Merlin much thought, sexually. No matter that he took up a disproportionate amount of Arthur’s thoughts when he was awake. But he hadn’t known that Merlin would be like this. That the sweat would drip down his chest and stick his hair to his forehead, that he’d be confident but not pushy, that he’d – that he’d take care of Arthur.
He came, again, when Merlin pulled his hips so that his ass was flush against Merlin’s sharp hipbones, unbearable pressure against the spot inside of him. He came and Merlin swore, and reached down and jerked him through his orgasm, until he was oversensitive and sore and crying. Until he said Merlin, and then he froze, and Arthur – Arthur could feel him come.
Could feel Merlin spill his seed inside of Arthur’s body. And he felt like a woman, like a whore, he felt dirty and improper, this wasn’t something a man should do, much less a king – but – as wrong as he knew it had to be – Merlin looked lost in pleasure. Looked overwhelmed and grateful and Arthur felt that uncomfortable burst of pride, again, in his body and his – in himself.
“So good,” Merlin said when he opened his eyes and smiled at Arthur. “I knew you would be.” Arthur growled at him and let his legs fall from around his waist.
“And I knew you’d be lazy. Go get a cloth and clean us up. And make sure you clean these sheets yourself in the morning, because the last thing we need is a rumor – ” Merlin pulled out slowly and Arthur fought to keep his discomfort from showing in his voice. “A rumor that I’m unfit for marriage would be ruinous.”
Merlin nodded his understanding and started to leave the bed. Arthur grabbed his wrist. His thin, wiry wrist – it looked pale against Arthur’s tan. It felt strong. “Do you have to return to your quarters tonight?”
Merlin smiled at him, and Arthur firmly instructed his insides to stop fluttering. “I can stay,” Merlin said. “I’d like very much to stay.”
That night, when Arthur fell asleep, he dreamed of walking through miles of mud, of fighting monsters who all mysteriously died before he could kill them, and of sitting on the throne with Merlin standing at his side.
*
Reviews are loved and adored!
Author:
hoosierbitch Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Warnings: Rimming, comeplay
Summary: Arthur's been alone for a long time before Merlin comes along.
It never would have happened if he hadn’t been so bloody tired. But it had been a long, two-day march through muddy fields, and then a drawn-out fight with what he swore was an overgrown scorpion. It had ended right after Merlin had tripped over Arthur’s sword and knocked them both over. Thankfully, neither of them fell on the blade – and by the time they’d gotten back up, the scorpion had somehow caught on fire. Arthur was bruised, soaked, exhausted, his sword arm practically numb, his right knee swollen – and then they’d begun the return trip back to Camelot.
Merlin had made out alright. The only injury he’d suffered was the black eye from being too clumsy to stay upright without supervision. He’d ridden the whole way home. Arthur, who had needed to set a good example for the footsoldiers (who had lost too many good men) had walked. For two days. Through mud. In full armor.
“Merlin,” he said, when he’d finished his audience with the king and finally gotten a chance to retreat to his room. “Undress me.”
Usually, Merlin would just help him with the armor. Undo the latches Arthur couldn’t reach, the ties his fingers were too clumsy to pick out – sure, sometimes when Arthur was feeling more vindictive, he’d make Merlin pull off his shirt or strip on his socks at night (Merlin was gorgeous when he blushed hard enough to match his handkerchief). But the ritual of it existed for nights like these.
He barely managed to lift his arms when Merlin slid the vambraces from his forearms. Didn’t even bother to scold Merlin for the way he tossed the chest plate onto the table. He took off his own sword belt, after struggling with the buckle for minutes longer than it should have taken.
The leather was cold and wet between his fingers. The weight of his sword was a comfort, but not as much of a comfort as Merlin taking it from him and then sitting him down on the bed. He knelt between Arthur’s legs to untie the laces of his boot, and Arthur palmed himself through his trousers. He was half-hard already.
Merlin finished with his boots and braced his hands on Arthur’s thighs to stand. “I wish you’d suck me,” Arthur whispered. And he hadn’t meant to say it out loud – hadn’t even meant to think it, those thoughts led to dangerous dreams – he was about to cover it up with a bad joke when Merlin said okay, and pushed Arthur’s hands aside.
They’d not done this before. They’d never even kissed, or exchanged handjobs – he’d never even known that Merlin had feelings for him. That he’d even thought about this before. Merlin’s fingers untied his breeches swiftly. Arthur lifted his hips so that Merlin could slide the fabric down his thighs, just far enough. Then he leaned forward and sucked the head of Arthur’s cock into his mouth.
It was impossibly hot. Moist and warm and oh - the sensation of Merlin’s tongue, flickering on the underside of his head, right at the bundle of nerves that he’d apparently not been paying enough attention to – it was perfect, it was impossible, it was Merlin.
He propped himself up on one shaky arm and ran the other through Merlin’s short hair. Merlin made a small, pleased sound – it vibrated through his dick and he shivered. He’d had his dick sucked before, but never like this – Merlin sucked him gently. Careful with each inch of Arthur’s cock, teasing more than licking – no one ever treated Arthur like that.
He was tracing the edge of Merlin’s ear – another thing that made him moan, soft and surprised – and Merlin was halfway down his shaft when someone knocked on the door.
“Ignore it,” he said, keeping a hand on Merlin’s neck, trying to keep him from pulling away. But Merlin just shrugged out of his hold and kissed the head of his cock. A bit of precum glistened on his lips.
“It could be important,” Merlin said. And he laced Arthur’s wet breeches again, tight over his swollen shaft, smiling the entire time.
“I’m going to punish you for this,” he said, and Merlin just grinned at him, the infuriating little – “Hello, Guinevere!”
She smiled when she saw them. “I hope I’m not interrupting! I just wanted to see how you were getting on, after your trip.”
Arthur ushered her into the room and closed the door behind her. “We’re never too busy for a beautiful woman like yourself.” She laughed and blushed and Merlin glared.
They sat in front of the fire and chatted about the journey while Merlin cleaned his armor, piece by piece. And, yes, rust was always a worry, but that was really no excuse for the vehemence with which Merlin was scrubbing at the metal. “You’re going to scratch it,” he scolded, and Merlin blushed before he went back to glaring.
Gwen was – Gwen was the kind of woman who would make an amazing queen. Intelligent, even-headed, kind. And if she were a noblewoman – if she had had so much as a drop of royal blood in her veins – he would have asked for her hand already. But she didn’t, and there was no use in pining over things he wasn’t allowed to have. So he didn’t ask Merlin to leave, and didn’t ask Guinevere to stay. Instead, he kissed her politely on the cheek (breathing in some of Morgana’s borrowed perfume) and bid her goodnight.
“You’re leading her on,” Merlin said after Arthur latched the door. “Unless you’re planning on rewriting the laws about eligibility – ” The truth seemed harder to take when it came from Merlin, who always sounded a bit like petulant child complaining about his curfew.
“Shut up,” he said, and he had to work to force the words out. “Just - shut up.”
Because tonight he felt the weight of his responsibility in every bruised limb, every strained muscle, every second he looked at Merlin’s lips and had to remind himself to look away. The soft kiss Merlin had placed on his cock seemed like it came from a different person. Sometimes, Arthur wasn’t the king Merlin and Gwen wanted him to be. Sometimes, he was selfish and lonely and stupid. If he were a better prince, a better person, he would have kept them at arm’s length. Kings weren’t supposed to have friends. There was no way it could end well. Not for any of them. Camelot’s throne could only hold one person.
“You can take the armor with you and finish it in your quarters. I’ll want a hot bath in the morning before training – ”
He wasn’t expecting what Merlin did next. He’d expected a sharp retort, or an argument, or even silence – he wasn’t prepared for Merlin to step up behind him and wrap his arms around Arthur’s chest. It wasn’t a hug. It was – it was more intimate than that. Because Merlin was undoing the laces on his shirt while he kissed Arthur’s neck, and even though this wasn’t something they’d ever done before, it felt like they’d done it a hundred times. A thousand. Like they would do it for years to come.
“What are you doing?” he asked as Merlin’s long, clever fingers teased at his nipples before pulling his shirt over his head.
“Taking care of you,” Merlin replied. And he dropped the shirt onto the floor and then rubbed at Arthur’s cock, one hand over his breeches and the other sliding between the damp fabric and his skin. “It’s my job, after all,” he said, and he was laughing a little – nervous, maybe, but then he pressed his dick against Arthur’s ass, rocked it between his cheeks, and his laughter turned to breathy moans.
“If you – if you’re doing this because you think you have some sort of twisted obligation – ”
Merlin laughed again and started unlacing Arthur’s breeches. “I don’t even follow half the orders you actually give me, do you seriously think I’m going to follow ones you don’t?”
Arthur shuddered as Merlin pulled his dick out and started rubbing his thumb over the sensitive spot beneath the head.
“Have you ever been with another man before?” Merlin asked, and he stepped away and started walking backwards towards the bed. He was stripping as he went, and Arthur wanted to follow but he couldn’t look at the smooth expanse of Merlin’s torso and move at the same time, it just wasn’t going to happen. His nipples were pink. Small, tight nubs, and Arthur’s mouth watered with the urge to kiss them. “Arthur – answer the question.”
“No,” he said, flushing a little bit. “But I’m guessing you have?”
Merlin nodded. “Lots of times.”
“Slut,” Arthur said, and it was a vicious word but for some reason it made Merlin’s breath hitch and his eyes widen.
“Have you been with women?” Merlin asked, and Arthur glared at him.
“Of course I have, I’m not a virgin, Merlin!” Merlin looked him up and down and Arthur couldn’t help but blush. And feel proud of his body, that it made Merlin look at him that way.
“Did any of them ever lick your hole until you came?”
Arthur’s jaw literally dropped. “Are you insane? That’s filthy!”
Merlin licked his lips and Arthur couldn’t help but clench, imagining Merlin licking him down there – slowly, carefully, the way he had when he’d been on his knees – “I know you’re clean down there,” Merlin replied, and, fuck, he was taking off his pants. “I watch you bathe, in case you’d forgotten.”
Arthur had, in fact, forgotten. Merlin had seen him naked dozens of times – but he had never seen Merlin like this. He was beautiful. Too skinny, sure. But – lean, in a way Arthur hadn’t expected. And confident. His cock was long and hard and red, flush against his belly. He was stroking it idly and Arthur didn’t make a conscious decision but a second later his hand was intertwined with Merlin’s.
It was only a few seconds before Merlin tugged him closer and started jacking them both at the same time. Rubbing their cocks together with long, firm strokes, and Arthur bit Merlin’s shoulder to muffle the noises he didn’t know he was capable of making. Needy and desperate.
“I want to fuck you,” Merlin said. “Can I fuck you?”
He wanted to say no. It wasn’t a line he should cross with anyone. He needed to be the one in control. It was his life, his job, his purpose. “Yes,” he said, and Merlin maneuvered until they were both on the mattress, Merlin spread out over him, still stroking both of their cocks with his talented fingers.
Merlin came first, but Arthur followed quickly. Merlin jacked him through his orgasm, and as soon as he was finished, crouched between his legs. “Spread your knees,” he ordered, and Arthur pulled them up to his chest. “God,” Merlin moaned. “You’re being so good for me.”
Arthur didn’t particularly want to know why Merlin’s words hit him as hard as they did. Why it felt like he’d been punched in the stomach, all the breath knocked out of him. Like all of a sudden he felt an uncomfortable hollow place in his chest. He was good at strategy. Great at fighting. He was fair with his men, careful with his father, and for all of those things he’d been praised.
He couldn’t remember another time when anyone had praised him for simply – being him.
He was still echoing when Merlin’s hands spread his cheeks, and his tongue licked at Arthur’s hole. It was – it was wrong, and unfamiliar and – oh, gods. Oh, gods Merlin was licking inside of him, his tongue probing into Arthur and he didn’t know he could feel this good – didn’t know his body was capable of it. Merlin chuckled and Arthur flinched when the vibrations teased at the rim of his hole.
Then Merlin slid a finger in beside his tongue, and before Arthur could ask if he was sure he knew what he was doing, he – he brushed against – against something inside of him that made him shout, and let go of his legs, which fell over Merlin’s shoulders – it sparked from his ass to his groin, to his painfully hardening cock, his heaving lungs –
Again and again and again, Merlin pressed against that spot, and licked until his tongue stroked against it, until Arthur was close to tears, his cock dripping onto his stomach.
“You’re going to fuck me now,” he said, tugging at Merlin’s hair, because if he waited another minute he might die.
“No,” Merlin said. And he slicked up two of his fingers with the come cooling on Arthur’s torso and slid them both inside of him. He cried out at the new, terrifying stretch of muscles he’d never used before. “You’re so tight,” Merlin murmured, scissoring his fingers and twisting them from side to side. “And my cock’s a lot bigger than my fingers.”
“I want you,” he said. “I want you now, I want you inside of me, I swear to god I will beat you bloody if you don’t – ”
A third finger and he was sobbing, and Merlin was smiling at him again. He couldn’t order Merlin to stop because he couldn’t breathe, not when every thrust of his fingers sent fire racing through his body, pushing the air from his lungs, stretching him wider than he thought was possible.
“Okay,” Merlin said. And he left, for a minute, to grab the oil he’d been using on Arthur’s armor. Arthur stared at the canopy above his bed, his legs spread like a whore, his chest streaked with their combined semen, his lip swollen from trying to bite it and keep in the cries that threatened him every time Merlin looked at him.
“I’m not going to marry you,” he said, when Merlin returned.
“I know that,” Merlin said slowly, looking at him like he suspected brain damage. “It doesn’t matter how many times you say it, I’m not actually a girl. I thought you’d get over that, after seeing my cock and everything – ”
“I’m going to have to marry someone,” Arthur interrupted, and his hole was empty and his legs were spread and he felt open in so many more ways than just in his body. “I can’t make you any promises. I can’t promise to be faithful. I can – I can promise I won’t be, as a matter of fact – ”
For the second time that night, Merlin left him speechless. This time, it was because he kissed him. His lips were soft and dry and – and in this one area Merlin seemed as tentative as Arthur was. After a minute of their mouths pressing against each other, he licked at Merlin’s lips – and then at the tip of his tongue, coming out to explore Arthur’s mouth.
“I know who you are,” Merlin said, pulling back and slicking his cock and reminding Arthur that really, they were very much beyond kissing at that point. “You’re a prat, and you’re arrogant, and immature – and – ” The head of his cock breached Arthur’s hole slowly, and he bit his fist to keep from sobbing. “And you’re stupidly noble, and you – you care too much, sometimes,” and Arthur would have argued if Merlin hadn’t been splitting him open with his huge goddamn cock. “And no one takes care of you,” and he kissed Arthur again, pushing in another inch or two in order to get at his lips and stop him from turning his head away.
Merlin kissed him until he was all the way in and Arthur was thrusting up against him, trying to get him to move, because he kept brushing against that – that spot, inside of him, that made his eyes water and his legs turn to jelly.
“I thought about how you’d look,” Merlin said, sitting back on his heels and grabbing Arthur’s ankles to spread his legs wider. He wrapped Arthur’s legs around his waist, and held onto his hips, and started to fuck him. Hard. “I jerked off for – for months – thinking about this – ”
Arthur hadn’t let himself given Merlin much thought, sexually. No matter that he took up a disproportionate amount of Arthur’s thoughts when he was awake. But he hadn’t known that Merlin would be like this. That the sweat would drip down his chest and stick his hair to his forehead, that he’d be confident but not pushy, that he’d – that he’d take care of Arthur.
He came, again, when Merlin pulled his hips so that his ass was flush against Merlin’s sharp hipbones, unbearable pressure against the spot inside of him. He came and Merlin swore, and reached down and jerked him through his orgasm, until he was oversensitive and sore and crying. Until he said Merlin, and then he froze, and Arthur – Arthur could feel him come.
Could feel Merlin spill his seed inside of Arthur’s body. And he felt like a woman, like a whore, he felt dirty and improper, this wasn’t something a man should do, much less a king – but – as wrong as he knew it had to be – Merlin looked lost in pleasure. Looked overwhelmed and grateful and Arthur felt that uncomfortable burst of pride, again, in his body and his – in himself.
“So good,” Merlin said when he opened his eyes and smiled at Arthur. “I knew you would be.” Arthur growled at him and let his legs fall from around his waist.
“And I knew you’d be lazy. Go get a cloth and clean us up. And make sure you clean these sheets yourself in the morning, because the last thing we need is a rumor – ” Merlin pulled out slowly and Arthur fought to keep his discomfort from showing in his voice. “A rumor that I’m unfit for marriage would be ruinous.”
Merlin nodded his understanding and started to leave the bed. Arthur grabbed his wrist. His thin, wiry wrist – it looked pale against Arthur’s tan. It felt strong. “Do you have to return to your quarters tonight?”
Merlin smiled at him, and Arthur firmly instructed his insides to stop fluttering. “I can stay,” Merlin said. “I’d like very much to stay.”
That night, when Arthur fell asleep, he dreamed of walking through miles of mud, of fighting monsters who all mysteriously died before he could kill them, and of sitting on the throne with Merlin standing at his side.
*
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Date: 2010-05-06 06:18 pm (UTC)