Brassed Off Calendar Girls do the Full Monty in Camelot (15/?)

[camelittle]

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14

Chapter 15: Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight)

Finally the boys get some action. Together.


Merlin busied himself in the kitchen making two cups of tea. Arthur had seemed uncertain about the date at first, but once he’d decided to go along with it, it had been wonderful to see Arthur totally relaxed, unselfconscious, enthralled by the music, and to hear him use his undisputed musical skill in such an unfamiliar way. The best thing about the evening, apart from the smouldering kiss that Arthur had delivered on Merlin’s doorstep, had been the expression on Arthur’s face when he had finished improvising for the first time. The combination of surprise, pride and uncomplicated joy was something he wanted to pack up in a box and keep for a rainy day.

But Merlin’s evening had been partly overshadowed by his own sense of impending doom about the upcoming strip show, which he wanted to talk over with Arthur. Now is as good a time as any, he thought. So he steeled himself and opened the conversation with a terse sentence.

“I’ve decided to do it, and that’s that,” said Merlin firmly.

Arthur frowned.

“Do what?” he replied.

“The Full Monty.”

Arthur shot him a concerned look across the table.

"Are you sure?" he said. Merlin nodded.

"I know I can do it," he said. "I did the Calendar Girls photo shoot on Sunday."

Arthur gaped at him.

"I always knew you were a girl, Merlin!"

"I'm not! I swear! But the girls needed my help, so I did it. And it was fine. So I am sure I'll be fine doing the Monty too. But I need you to help me."

They were sitting in Merlin’s kitchen, devouring Jammy Dodgers, and a large jar of peanut butter, which Merlin was scooping out of the jar with a spoon. Will’s tunes banged through the wall.

“I know you think I can’t do it, but I think I should. And I want you to help me.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because, Arthur, you are the most self-assured person I have ever met. And I want you to give me some tips.”

“Merlin, I have to point out that at the first rehearsal you and all the rest of the men all managed to master the choreography for ‘You can keep your hat on’ within about an hour, whereas I, according to Gwaine, have hips so wooden that they would not look out of place on a tree.”

“I think we can help each other Arthur,” Merlin said. “I think I can do all the moves, but I’ll really struggle with taking my kit off. Whereas yours seemed to come off alarmingly quickly.”

“Did not!” protested Arthur.

“Arthur, you had your bits flapping out before we could say ‘Jack Robinson’”. And a lovely sight they were too, thought Merlin.

“You couldn’t keep your eyes off them, as I recall,” Arthur drawled, amused. Merlin flushed.

“Well, they were not exactly impressive…”

“It was cold!” said Arthur, defensively.

But Merlin’s memory of Arthur’s lightning fast strip would last him a month of wanks. He didn’t say anything but Arthur smirked at him knowingly.

“OK,” said Arthur. “I think you’re right. And I’m glad you’re moving on. So let’s help each other out.” He put his empty tea cup in the sink and pulled Merlin to his feet. “Come on, Michael Jackson. Let’s throw some shapes. Lead me to the sound machine.”

“Not here,” said Merlin. “I’m absolutely not doing this where there's a chance my flat mate could walk in. Come to my bedroom.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“Oi!”

But when they got into Merlin’s bedroom, Merlin closed the door with his foot and inserted a CD in the machine, they looked at each other in a moment of silent contemplation and Merlin very nearly backed out again.

“Hey,” said Arthur gently. “If you’re not ready for this we can try again another day?”

Merlin shook his head. “It’s OK Arthur. I trust you.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly, and turned the music on. Tom Jones’ Welsh tones blasted into the room. On the other side of the wall, Will turned his music up.

Merlin couldn’t help laughing at Arthur’s inability to swivel his hips. It was oddly endearing that he was so competent at everything else he tried, so earnest and competitive, but that he just could not understand how to gyrate. After half an hour of unsuccessful practice the two men were both panting from their exertions and giggling.

“Look Arthur,” said Merlin one more time. “It’s very straightforward, you just need to bend here, and flex your knees. Here, put your hands on my hips while I do it. Can you feel it?”

“Oh I can feel it all right,” said Arthur, holding on tight and pressing his own hips to Merlin’s taut rear. “Can you?”

Arthur’s hot breath was on the back of Merlin’s neck; he felt Arthur’s lips ghosting through the wispy curls there and towards his earlobes, making him shiver.

“Merlin,” he whispered. “God, you don’t know what you do to me. Merlin.”

Merlin turned round to face him, eyes uncertain.

Arthur cupped Merlin’s jaw in one hand and swallowed. “Sorry,” he said, looking down and shaking his head, stepping away, letting his hand drop. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. I just thought maybe…”

Merlin stepped back towards Arthur, threaded his hand in Arthur’s golden hair, and gently pressed his lips to Arthur’s open mouth. Arthur moaned, making Merlin’s heart thud, and turned his head into the kiss, which they held for a long moment, soft tongues melting into one another. Merlin’s eyes fluttered closed as he was drawn into Arthur’s warmth; he tasted of beer, tea and raspberry jam. Merlin pressed his leg between Arthur’s, sighing at the feel of Arthur’s tautening erection against his hip, and reached behind Arthur with both hands to grip those firm buttocks, gasping as he squeezed them with long, strong fingers.

“Arthur,” he moaned between filthy wet kisses. “Your arse, oh God. Your gorgeous, gorgeous arse.” He flexed his hips, pressed against Arthur, folded his lean arms around him, enveloping him in heat and desire. Arthur’s irises were a thin sapphire annulus round huge gleaming black pupils, his lashes pale, fluttering.

“Merlin,” he whispered. “Driving me mad, you talentless, scruffy Irish ragamuffin. Those lips.” He teased at them with his teeth as he named them. “Those ears!” Arthur’s pink tongue flicked out and drew hot and cold patterns inside the shell of his ear.

“Aaah Aaah Nnnngh!” said Merlin coherently. “Tickles!”

“Those fingers… God!” Arthur continued and gently removed one of Merlin’s hands from its death grip on his bum. With his eyes locked on Merlin’s, he moved Merlin’s hand round and placed it on his own crotch. “Feel what you do to me Merlin, such a tease.” Arthur’s cock felt huge and hot through his trousers. Merlin rubbed it gently, moaning, panting, jeans straining to contain his own bulging prick, and leaned forward to follow Arthur when he quietly disengaged from the embrace. Merlin felt suddenly bereft, cold when Arthur pushed him away, held both his hands, breathing deeply through his nose, looking down, looking up.

“Is this OK?” Arthur said earnestly through panting breaths. “Are you OK?”

Merlin nodded and smiled. Arthur smiled shyly back. His smile was the most beautiful thing Merlin had ever seen. He ducked forward to steal another kiss, but Arthur stopped him with a finger.

“Wait. Wait! Let me speak, you impatient, stupid, gorgeous, black-haired, lanky idiot! Listen.” He had Merlin’s attention now.

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t tell me to,” said Arthur. “And I’m not going to do anything fast. But I have to tell you now, Merlin Emrys, that I want it all, everything you are prepared to give me, I want it. I… want…” And Merlin was humbled by the way that Arthur’s voice trembled. “I want you. Vegetable brains, noodle arms, spindly legs, snarky lips, the works. So please, either stop now, or never, never stop.”

“Not going to stop,” breathed Merlin, although his heart nearly did, just then when Arthur was so unguarded and exposed, so trusting. Merlin disengaged his hands and pushed Arthur gently onto the bed, straddling him, grinding into him, dipping low to another deep kiss, long legs lined up alongside Arthur’s steely thighs. Arthur’s body, so hot and firm against his, fitted him perfectly, here and here. Arthur’s broad chest inflated and deflated beneath him; he could feel Arthur’s heart thumping against him. In that moment he felt finely balanced, poised on the brink of something-to fall or to fly? Arthur pulled him gently down, caressing him with lips and tongue, firm hands gently on his shoulders. Merlin’s nose ghosted down Arthur’s still-clad torso and his face came to rest in Arthur’s crotch, inhaling Arthur’s scent deeply, groaning.

He could drown in that musky perfume. If he allowed himself to fall, he would fall steeply and far, never to return. He gulped, still on the brink, caught between the necessity of flight and the urgency of need. Sensing his uncertainty, Arthur lessened his hold. They lay together shaking with want, breaths shallow and fast. Slowly, gently, Merlin drew Arthur’s fingers to him, pressed them to his mouth and sucked them in, swirling round them with his tongue, watching Arthur. Arthur stilled and inhaled sharply, focussing on Merlin’s mouth.

“Is this what you want Arthur,” asked Merlin, gently. Arthur nodded, swallowed, eyes glinting as he watched. His breath hitched as Merlin removed Arthur’s belt, shucked his trousers and pants down round his ankles, Arthur’s prominent cock bobbing up, a moist bead at its tip. Merlin took his own trousers and pants down, palming his own dark-red erect cock, and then turned back to Arthur, burying his nose in his crotch again, planting filthy kisses around the root of Arthur’s prick, losing himself in the sensation of wiry pubic hair on his lips.

“Oh my god,” said Merlin reverently. “Your prick, Arthur. Your gorgeous fucking prick.” It was gorgeous; fat, pink, and perky.

Merlin encased it in his lips, sucking a diamond of salty pre-come from the tip where it emerged from the foreskin, swirling it with his tongue, eliciting a soft gasp from Arthur.

“Turn round,” said Merlin huskily. “On your hands and knees.” Arthur turned, obediently.

“Look at you! Fuck, Arthur, look at your perfect fucking arse,” and Merlin caressed Arthur’s taut buttocks. They were lightly freckled, golden globes, with a faint scattering of delicate blonde hairs. He could watch them for hours. He snaked teasing thumbs into the crack between them. “One day I’m going to fuck you so hard, Arthur, going to ram my prick into your arse until I make you see stars.” He ran his fingertips appreciatively down Arthur’s thighs, so hard, so muscular.

“Merlin,” Arthur croaked, and Merlin felt a deep tug in his groin at the sounds Arthur was making. He wanted to draw more of those sounds out, wanted to record them in his head, they were like music. “Merlin you filthy Irish pervert. God, your filthy mouth.”

Merlin knelt up on the bed behind Arthur, pressed his lips to Arthur’s back, ghosted down his spine, his tongue leaving a hot-cold wet trail, until he shivered as Merlin nipped him gently and then a little harder with his teeth so that Arthur hissed. Merlin flipped him onto his back, felt Arthur tremble in his intent gaze as Merlin settled between his legs, aligned their cocks and rutted into him. Arthur was wet from Merlin’s mouth, but still too dry, and too hot, and perfect. Their mouths closed in a wet kiss. Merlin could see that Arthur’s chin was pink, chafed from his stubble, and he panted into Arthur’s neck, planting and sucking a mark on Arthur’s collarbone. Mine.

“Not going to last,” said Merlin hoarsely. “Gonna come all over you Arthur. Gonna coat you with my come.”

“God Merlin! Yes! Please Merlin.”

Merlin’s rhythm stuttered, and he felt the orgasm building, tension growing deliciously in his groin, his balls, and his thighs. He couldn’t speak any more, could only grunt as finally he came apart, panting, streaking onto Arthur’s abdomen and chest. Then he reached to encircle Arthur’s still-pert knob in his fingers, twisting and tugging it until Arthur followed him over with a shout.

Sated, damp, sticky they lay together, drowsing and wondering.

Arthur chuckled.

“What,” said Merlin.

“Nothing really,” Said Arthur. “It’s just… your mouth Merlin! Your filthy mouth!”

Merlin snorted sheepishly.

“Merlin, when I think of other dates I’ve had… Playing music with you was just… sex with you is just… being with you is just… perfect. I am not good with words Merlin, but I think this is the best date I’ve ever had.”

Merlin punched his arm.

“Sap,” he said, but he couldn’t suppress the elation he felt. Arthur chuckled again, but then fell serious.

“Merlin, I want you to know that always I’ll wait for you. As long as you need. I’ll only do what you tell me to do. And I want to see you again. Do this again. Don’t want to stop,” he said.

“Thank you Arthur,” said Merlin, quietly. “Won’t stop. Thank you for everything.”