Fic: one night stand (1/6)
Fic: One night stand
Chapter title: Seduced by a smiling Irishman
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Word Count: 1,093
Summary: A one night stand changes Arthur forever
Notes: First fic in the Merlin fandom, though god knows how many I’ve attempted to write. A big thankyou to podicus for looking very disapproving whenever I promise to post tonight, and then don’t, and so guilting me into writing something I’m halfway happy with ;-) thanks also to lazzypie for the general slashy musings.
Hot hands seem to grab him everywhere, and the desperate mouth that plundered his own and kept pulling back to nip and suck on his neck was driving him slowly towards the edge of oblivion. It was now absolutely impossible to think, the heady sensations added to the large amounts of alcohol in his system made it a struggle to remember even who he was, let alone where.
It was for this reason that it was perhaps forgivable that he was quite honestly considering shagging the pliable man in his arms up against his own front door, without a thought for the fact that anyone walking past his house at this moment could see Arthur Pendragon, having it off with a man. Luckily, the stranger seemed not to be quite as far gone as he was.
“Keys,” whispered a husky lilting Irish voice in his ear, and my God how did he make that one word sound like a promise which sent a spark straight to his crotch? He bit his lip, and then he whined as the heat was gone. He opened glazed eyes to see the man biting his lip and looking at him expectantly.
“Keys. Right.” He croaked, and fumbled round in his pocket for them, drawing them out with shaking hands. The man beside him chuckled in the back of his throat.
“Need some help?” he asked, a smile in his voice. He gently prised the keys from Arthur’s hands, found the one that matched the lock, and quickly let them into the flat. No sooner were they in than Arthur kicked the door shut and pounced, half leading, half dragging the man into his bedroom. Within seconds their clothes were in a pile on the floor, which was quite a feat considering the amount of alcohol they’d drunk at the club that night.
The sex was hot and fumbling, perfect in its imperfection. Arthur entered the man underneath him with a choked gasp, after quickly slicking his cock with spit. The man keened, pushing back against him, and they found an unsteady, almost brutal rhythm, which carried them both to the edge all too quickly. The stranger came first, choking out, “Arthur!” before his head fell back on the pillow, breaths coming in gasps. Arthur followed him a moment later, with a deep moan, and the guilty thought that he didn’t know the man’s name to cry out. His breathing returning slowly to normal, he rolled off the man onto his back. He fell asleep shortly after, his brain finally surrendering to oblivion.
Beside him, Merlin lay there in the dark, with the disconcerting thought that, as satisfied and happy as he felt now, he would regret this in the morning. Pushing it aside, he rolled over so that his arm lay across his lovers chest, his head on his shoulder, and joined him in sleep.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Arthur woke up, and immediately wished he had died in his sleep. His head roared and pounded like waves breaking against a cliff, his mouth was dry and furry, the room was cold where he had left the window open, and there was something cold and sticky on his belly. Perhaps the only pleasant thing was the warmth against his side, so he curled further into that. However, this brought with it a worse feeling, as memories of last night came flooding back.
Instead of the familiar feeling of soft breasts, smooth legs and long hair that he was fairly used to waking up next to, he could instead feel short hair tickling his chin, a hard, wiry torso pressed against him, hairy legs tangled with his own and-god- morning stubble prickling his shoulder. He looked down cautiously, his head spinning at even this small movement.
Dark, shaggy hair curled in tendrils and framed the face of a pale man, with prominent cheekbones, large ears and a wide mouth. He should have been unattractive, gawky, but somehow the features arranged themselves in such a way that he had to catch a breath at the beauty of the almost angelic features.
It was this that had drawn him to this man at the club the night before. He remembered the inexorable pull he had felt towards him. He had been trying to keep his eyes on his drink, his friends, and the girls around him. But he found his gaze constantly pulled back to him, and disconcertingly he found that every time he looked the man had been looking at him, leaning casually against the wall, steadily meeting his gaze and never breaking eye contact. A small smile played on his cherubic lips. After several rounds of drinks, and a few shots, Arthur had excused himself from his friends, and had walked unsteadily over to the corner.
“So why are you staring at me? Are you trying to freak me out?”
The man grinned, and spoke in a fantastic husky voice with an Irish lilt. “Could ask you the same question.”
They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, feeling very out of his depth. “So. You want a drink?”
“No.” The smile hadn’t left the man’s face.
“Oh. Uh, d’you want me to go away then?” No one made Arthur Pendragon unsure of himself, but this man was doing a pretty damn good job. To his horror he felt himself blushing, as the man’s gaze turned predatory. He pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against, and advanced until he was right in Arthur’s personal space, their breaths mingling.
“No.” Arthur swallowed and bit his lip. This drew the dark haired man’s gaze downward, and he knew what to ask next. He had wet his dry lips, and the man’s eyes dilated. He looked back up at Arthur.
“Want to come back to mine?” Arthur asked quietly, not daring to think about what this question entailed, but wanting it all the same.
The man gave him a sultry look from beneath lowered lashes. “That sounds good.”
“Right. Let’s go then.” Arthur took the man by the hand and turned to leave, but he was tugged back into the man’s arms. The pale man bit his lip, then leaned forwards. Their lips met, and Arthur opened his mouth, inviting the man in. They pulled apart moments later, breathing slightly faster. Arthur looked around nervously to see if his friends had seen, but they were all deep in conversation right at the other side of the club.
“Come on,” he muttered. “Let’s go.” This time the man followed him without protest.
Chapter 2