FIC: Untitled Comment Fic
Title: None
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG
Word Count: 381
Spoilers: None
Summary: Arthur tells Merlin what to do.
A/N: Just for the sake of having all my stuff in the same place. Written a while ago for these good times in bookshop's journal.
“Kiss me.”
Merlin looks up from the rip in his trousers that he is absolutely not using magic to repair. “I beg your pardon?”
“Kiss me,” Arthur repeats, sitting back in his chair across the table from Merlin's.
“Why?” Merlin asks, completely lost.
“Because you're my servant, and I told you to.” The reply is lazy, without any bite, and Merlin's heart starts beating a little faster. His gaze drops to the way Arthur's fingers are tracing the carvings on the armrests. He's always admired Arthur's hands, and the way his long, thick fingers brush over the grooves in the wood seems suddenly obscene. His mouth goes dry and he feels a flush creep into his cheeks.
He looks back up at Arthur. The prince arches an eyebrow, waiting, the smirk on his lips telling Merlin just how much Arthur enjoys flustering him.
Well, two can play at that game.
Merlin stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He gets one knee up on the table and then the other, smothering a smile as Arthur's eyes widen. He shoves assorted platters out of his way, ignoring the way they crash to the floor, and starts crawling slowly toward Arthur.
He doesn't have far to go, but by the time he reaches the edge of the table, Arthur's own cheeks are flushed and his breath is coming quicker. Merlin allows himself a coy smile as he leans forward, sliding his hands under Arthur's wrists to rest on the arms of his chair. Merlin shifts forward so his arms bear his weight, his knees still on the table. He leans into Arthur's space, enjoying the way his breath stutters when Merlin's mouth brushes against his.
“Like this?” Merlin whispers, his lips still open against Arthur's, caressing them softly as he speaks. “Is this what you wanted?”
Arthur's lips part and Merlin darts his tongue out, licking at the corner of his mouth, tasting wine and spice and Arthur. He can't stop the moan from escaping, and suddenly Arthur's kissing back, his hands threading through Merlin's hair, cradling his head.
And when Arthur pulls him forward so hard that the chair unbalances and they crash to the floor, Merlin's too distracted by the press of Arthur's body on top of his to care.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG
Word Count: 381
Spoilers: None
Summary: Arthur tells Merlin what to do.
A/N: Just for the sake of having all my stuff in the same place. Written a while ago for these good times in bookshop's journal.
“Kiss me.”
Merlin looks up from the rip in his trousers that he is absolutely not using magic to repair. “I beg your pardon?”
“Kiss me,” Arthur repeats, sitting back in his chair across the table from Merlin's.
“Why?” Merlin asks, completely lost.
“Because you're my servant, and I told you to.” The reply is lazy, without any bite, and Merlin's heart starts beating a little faster. His gaze drops to the way Arthur's fingers are tracing the carvings on the armrests. He's always admired Arthur's hands, and the way his long, thick fingers brush over the grooves in the wood seems suddenly obscene. His mouth goes dry and he feels a flush creep into his cheeks.
He looks back up at Arthur. The prince arches an eyebrow, waiting, the smirk on his lips telling Merlin just how much Arthur enjoys flustering him.
Well, two can play at that game.
Merlin stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He gets one knee up on the table and then the other, smothering a smile as Arthur's eyes widen. He shoves assorted platters out of his way, ignoring the way they crash to the floor, and starts crawling slowly toward Arthur.
He doesn't have far to go, but by the time he reaches the edge of the table, Arthur's own cheeks are flushed and his breath is coming quicker. Merlin allows himself a coy smile as he leans forward, sliding his hands under Arthur's wrists to rest on the arms of his chair. Merlin shifts forward so his arms bear his weight, his knees still on the table. He leans into Arthur's space, enjoying the way his breath stutters when Merlin's mouth brushes against his.
“Like this?” Merlin whispers, his lips still open against Arthur's, caressing them softly as he speaks. “Is this what you wanted?”
Arthur's lips part and Merlin darts his tongue out, licking at the corner of his mouth, tasting wine and spice and Arthur. He can't stop the moan from escaping, and suddenly Arthur's kissing back, his hands threading through Merlin's hair, cradling his head.
And when Arthur pulls him forward so hard that the chair unbalances and they crash to the floor, Merlin's too distracted by the press of Arthur's body on top of his to care.