Fic: All's Fair In Love...
Author/Artist: wayfarersgirl
Title: All's Fair In Love...
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1100
Fandom/Pairing: Merlin, Merlin/Arthur
Warnings/Spoilers: Modern AU
Disclaimer: This work is entirely, entirely fictional, has very little to do with anything real, and has nothing at all to do with the real actors. Merlin itself is the property of Shine and the BBC, and no offense or infringement is intended.
Summary: This was Arthur, trapped in a too-small cube of space, hovering in the air, sitting next to Merlin and his goddamn mouth.
Author's Note: This was written for ras_elased, to try and help her work through a sudden preoccupation with Colin/Merlin's "hooker mouth." I'm not sure if the overload therapy thing worked, but it sure made for some lovely fic. And also this one.
**
This was not exactly what Arthur had had in mind when he suggested a trip to the fair. Truthfully, he’d only gotten as far as “fried twinkies” before dragging Merlin out of the flat they shared and down to the converted fairgrounds. So he hadn’t exactly planned everything out, but this-this was definitely not in the plan. This was Arthur, trapped in a too-small cube of space, hovering in the air, sitting next to Merlin and his goddamn mouth. The mouth that was currently sticky with the remains of the cotton candy Merlin had insisted on purchasing, despite Arthur’s protests (he might not be a forward-thinking person in general, but it didn’t take a psychic to see what a bad idea Merlin + cotton candy was). The mouth that was forming words that Arthur felt he ought to be paying attention to, because at some point in the conversation Merlin would probably expect him to do more than just nod along and stare in the general direction of Merlin’s face.
But it wasn’t like it was Arthur’s fault that he couldn’t look away. No, this was entirely Merlin’s fault. After all, no one had told Merlin to buy the cotton candy. No one had told him to eat it messily, getting the webs of spun sugar caught on the curve of his lower lip, or to lick away the remnants with a swipe of his tongue. And really, Arthur thought, Merlin ought to know better by now. Arthur had known Merlin for going on five years now, and the freakishly full shape of Merlin’s mouth, the vaguely pornographic way he licked his lips after drinking (or eating, or talking, or really all the goddamn time), none of that was exactly new. Surely Merlin recognized the power of that mouth. If Arthur, who thought of himself as a reasonable sort of a person, was ready to leap to his demise off the side of a Ferris wheel to escape the hypnotic movement of those lips, that smile-well, he can’t be the only person who had ever had that reaction.
“You know?”
Merlin’s mouth stopped moving, and Arthur pulled his eyes up to the rest of Merlin’s face.
“Um?” he said. The corners of Merlin’s mouth twitched, drawing his gaze back down.
“I said, I don’t know how you eat those twinkie things. They’re disturbingly unhealthy, you know?”
“Oh, and cotton candy is such a paragon of nutrients?” Arthur responded automatically, reacting to the challenge in Merlin’s voice. The answering grin was devastating to Arthur’s now-failing resolve. He had promised himself he would not give in to the desire to lick the sugar off the bow of Merlin’s upper lip or seek out the sweetness on his tongue. Damn. He looked away, staring out at the rest of the fair, rising to meet them as the Ferris wheel brought them closer to the ground.
“Cotton candy does not tend to give people heart attacks,” Merlin said, poking a finger into Arthur’s chest. The movement brought them closer together, and Arthur could smell the sweetness on Merlin’s breath.
“I have yet to see any studies on that subject,” Arthur said, still managing to look away. With Merlin this close, turning to face the other man was a very, very bad idea.
“Let’s do one now, then,” Merlin said, and flattened his hand over Arthur’s chest. He reached and took Arthur’s hand, pulling it up to his own chest. Merlin’s t-shirt was soft and worn under his fingers, and Arthur couldn’t resist looking at the contrast between his hand and the dark material of the shirt. His fingers twitched at the sight, and he saw Merlin smile again.
“Now, whose heart is beating faster? Mine, after I ate some harmless cotton candy, or yours, after you consumed a deep-fried twinkie?”
Arthur was approximately 110% sure that the rapid thumping of his heart had nothing to do with twinkies. It did, however, have everything to do with the way Merlin leaned closer, that gorgeous fucking mouth an inch away from Arthur’s ear, and whispered, “I think we both know who’s closer to a heart attack here.”
“Fuck,” Arthur breathed, before he could catch himself.
Merlin pulled back, but not nearly far enough for Arthur’s comfort. Instead of backing up to his side of the bench seat, he moved his face around until he was directly in Arthur’s line of vision, but close enough that Arthur could feel every puff of air escaping from Merlin’s barely parted lips.
“Plus,” Merlin said, barely above a whisper, “cotton candy tastes a hell of a lot better.” And then, slowly and deliberately, Merlin licked his lips. He dragged the tip of his tongue over the curve of his upper lip first, paused, and then stared directly at Arthur. He let his jaw drop a little as he finished moving his tongue over the fullness of his bottom lip, and that was it. That was fucking it, Arthur thought, and he closed the distance.
Merlin’s lips were warm and sticky and in constant motion. That full lower lip filled the space between Arthur’s, and he replaced Merlin’s tongue with his own, licking until he found the taste of Merlin underneath the sugar. Merlin’s body was moving against his, and he felt a hand at the back of his neck pulling him closer, tighter. His chest flared, with arousal or the need for air, he wasn’t sure which, but he wasn’t about to pull back to figure it out. He curled the fingers of his free hand-the one not fisted in Merlin’s shirt-in Merlin’s hair, feeling the long, soft strands move against his skin. Merlin sighed into his mouth and pulled back, breathing heavily.
“Wha-“ Arthur leaned forward, trying to get back to Merlin’s mouth with his own. Merlin leaned away again, and Arthur made a small sound of frustration.
“We’re here,” Merlin breathed. “On the ground.”
“Wha?”
“We’re on the ground,” Merlin laughed a little, quiet, intimate. “We have to get off now.”
Arthur’s brain broke a little at the husky timbre of Merlin’s voice on the last sentence. Before he could figure out what Merlin was talking about, if not sex (and the not-letting-Arthur-kiss-him part made Arthur think he probably wasn’t talking about sex), Merlin had grabbed his hand and was hauling him up. He wobbled on his feet as they stepped down and out of the Ferris wheel car, walking unsteadily toward the exit. The sounds of people, rides, and games filled the air again, and Arthur almost missed Merlin’s low-pitched promise.
“I’m getting a big bag of cotton candy to take home with us tonight.”
Title: All's Fair In Love...
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1100
Fandom/Pairing: Merlin, Merlin/Arthur
Warnings/Spoilers: Modern AU
Disclaimer: This work is entirely, entirely fictional, has very little to do with anything real, and has nothing at all to do with the real actors. Merlin itself is the property of Shine and the BBC, and no offense or infringement is intended.
Summary: This was Arthur, trapped in a too-small cube of space, hovering in the air, sitting next to Merlin and his goddamn mouth.
Author's Note: This was written for ras_elased, to try and help her work through a sudden preoccupation with Colin/Merlin's "hooker mouth." I'm not sure if the overload therapy thing worked, but it sure made for some lovely fic. And also this one.
**
This was not exactly what Arthur had had in mind when he suggested a trip to the fair. Truthfully, he’d only gotten as far as “fried twinkies” before dragging Merlin out of the flat they shared and down to the converted fairgrounds. So he hadn’t exactly planned everything out, but this-this was definitely not in the plan. This was Arthur, trapped in a too-small cube of space, hovering in the air, sitting next to Merlin and his goddamn mouth. The mouth that was currently sticky with the remains of the cotton candy Merlin had insisted on purchasing, despite Arthur’s protests (he might not be a forward-thinking person in general, but it didn’t take a psychic to see what a bad idea Merlin + cotton candy was). The mouth that was forming words that Arthur felt he ought to be paying attention to, because at some point in the conversation Merlin would probably expect him to do more than just nod along and stare in the general direction of Merlin’s face.
But it wasn’t like it was Arthur’s fault that he couldn’t look away. No, this was entirely Merlin’s fault. After all, no one had told Merlin to buy the cotton candy. No one had told him to eat it messily, getting the webs of spun sugar caught on the curve of his lower lip, or to lick away the remnants with a swipe of his tongue. And really, Arthur thought, Merlin ought to know better by now. Arthur had known Merlin for going on five years now, and the freakishly full shape of Merlin’s mouth, the vaguely pornographic way he licked his lips after drinking (or eating, or talking, or really all the goddamn time), none of that was exactly new. Surely Merlin recognized the power of that mouth. If Arthur, who thought of himself as a reasonable sort of a person, was ready to leap to his demise off the side of a Ferris wheel to escape the hypnotic movement of those lips, that smile-well, he can’t be the only person who had ever had that reaction.
“You know?”
Merlin’s mouth stopped moving, and Arthur pulled his eyes up to the rest of Merlin’s face.
“Um?” he said. The corners of Merlin’s mouth twitched, drawing his gaze back down.
“I said, I don’t know how you eat those twinkie things. They’re disturbingly unhealthy, you know?”
“Oh, and cotton candy is such a paragon of nutrients?” Arthur responded automatically, reacting to the challenge in Merlin’s voice. The answering grin was devastating to Arthur’s now-failing resolve. He had promised himself he would not give in to the desire to lick the sugar off the bow of Merlin’s upper lip or seek out the sweetness on his tongue. Damn. He looked away, staring out at the rest of the fair, rising to meet them as the Ferris wheel brought them closer to the ground.
“Cotton candy does not tend to give people heart attacks,” Merlin said, poking a finger into Arthur’s chest. The movement brought them closer together, and Arthur could smell the sweetness on Merlin’s breath.
“I have yet to see any studies on that subject,” Arthur said, still managing to look away. With Merlin this close, turning to face the other man was a very, very bad idea.
“Let’s do one now, then,” Merlin said, and flattened his hand over Arthur’s chest. He reached and took Arthur’s hand, pulling it up to his own chest. Merlin’s t-shirt was soft and worn under his fingers, and Arthur couldn’t resist looking at the contrast between his hand and the dark material of the shirt. His fingers twitched at the sight, and he saw Merlin smile again.
“Now, whose heart is beating faster? Mine, after I ate some harmless cotton candy, or yours, after you consumed a deep-fried twinkie?”
Arthur was approximately 110% sure that the rapid thumping of his heart had nothing to do with twinkies. It did, however, have everything to do with the way Merlin leaned closer, that gorgeous fucking mouth an inch away from Arthur’s ear, and whispered, “I think we both know who’s closer to a heart attack here.”
“Fuck,” Arthur breathed, before he could catch himself.
Merlin pulled back, but not nearly far enough for Arthur’s comfort. Instead of backing up to his side of the bench seat, he moved his face around until he was directly in Arthur’s line of vision, but close enough that Arthur could feel every puff of air escaping from Merlin’s barely parted lips.
“Plus,” Merlin said, barely above a whisper, “cotton candy tastes a hell of a lot better.” And then, slowly and deliberately, Merlin licked his lips. He dragged the tip of his tongue over the curve of his upper lip first, paused, and then stared directly at Arthur. He let his jaw drop a little as he finished moving his tongue over the fullness of his bottom lip, and that was it. That was fucking it, Arthur thought, and he closed the distance.
Merlin’s lips were warm and sticky and in constant motion. That full lower lip filled the space between Arthur’s, and he replaced Merlin’s tongue with his own, licking until he found the taste of Merlin underneath the sugar. Merlin’s body was moving against his, and he felt a hand at the back of his neck pulling him closer, tighter. His chest flared, with arousal or the need for air, he wasn’t sure which, but he wasn’t about to pull back to figure it out. He curled the fingers of his free hand-the one not fisted in Merlin’s shirt-in Merlin’s hair, feeling the long, soft strands move against his skin. Merlin sighed into his mouth and pulled back, breathing heavily.
“Wha-“ Arthur leaned forward, trying to get back to Merlin’s mouth with his own. Merlin leaned away again, and Arthur made a small sound of frustration.
“We’re here,” Merlin breathed. “On the ground.”
“Wha?”
“We’re on the ground,” Merlin laughed a little, quiet, intimate. “We have to get off now.”
Arthur’s brain broke a little at the husky timbre of Merlin’s voice on the last sentence. Before he could figure out what Merlin was talking about, if not sex (and the not-letting-Arthur-kiss-him part made Arthur think he probably wasn’t talking about sex), Merlin had grabbed his hand and was hauling him up. He wobbled on his feet as they stepped down and out of the Ferris wheel car, walking unsteadily toward the exit. The sounds of people, rides, and games filled the air again, and Arthur almost missed Merlin’s low-pitched promise.
“I’m getting a big bag of cotton candy to take home with us tonight.”