I'M FAILING A CLASS FOR THIS COMM., I HOPE YOU ALL KNOW.
NO, NOT REALLY, I'M JUST ONCE AGAIN PROCRASTINATING INSTEAD OF STUDYING.
BUT LO, MY SISTER TEXTED ME WITH THE WORDS 'WHITE KNUCKLED ARTHUR' BECAUSE SHE KNOWS WHAT MY MIND DOES WITH THESE THINGS.
THEREFORE:
“Arthur, are you all right?” Uther demands, caring more about Arthur’s lack of attention than his actual health. Arthur’s head snaps up and he blinks a few times.
“Uh,” he says, clearing his throat. “Perfect. Just perfect.” He pretends his voice doesn’t crack on that last syllable. The entire table of nobles is still staring at him however, so he flashes a convincing grin and tries to settle back into his chair.
Motherfucking Merlin, Arthur thinks, biting into the soft flesh of his hand. Sonofabitch better stop it right this second, or Arthur was going to get into serious trouble.
Merlin sucks a little harder, teases his fingertips in places Arthur’s not used to.
So maybe not right this second, he amends.
“Get a little control of yourself, Arthur, you’ll make a scene,” Morgana hisses unhelpfully, then gives him a knowing look.
“Well, incase you didn’t realize, I’m slightly preOCC-“ he squeaks, slamming his hand onto the table. This gets more stares than ever, and Arthur gives a shaky laugh and covers it by gulping down his drink. “Preoccupied,” he finishes after a moment.
Morgana is the hugest bitch ever, because if she didn’t know Merlin was there before, she certainly knew now, now that she had kicked him underneath the table and Merlin choked around Arthur’s cock, which had caused Arthur to choke and grip his armrest so hard his knuckles turned white. In short, Arthur was forced to cough very loudly for a very long time, because Merlin was having a difficult time catching his own breath. Arthur holds up his free hand to signal that he’s all right.
“Maybe you should excuse yourself, Arthur.” Uther’s suggestions are suggestions in the way that festering wounds are sexy, which is to say, not at all. Not only that, but they usually are really shitty ideas.
“Actually, father, I’ll be quITE-quite all right, now,” Arthur struggles, clearing his throat a few times and making some very interesting noises.
“See that you are.” Arthur thinks about ripping Merlin’s ears off, but-Sweet JESUS, he does this thing with his tongue and that’s pretty much it, Arthur’s coming so hard his toes curl in his boots and the arm rest nearly breaks off in his hand.
A few moments pass, and Morgana leans over again to invade his personal space. “Wipe that stupid look off your face already, or else everyone will know how good it was.” Arthur feels Merlin shaking with laughter between his thighs.
Stupid, stupid, rotten, utterly useless manservant. Who happens to be excellent at blowjobs, his mind supplies. You’re just shite at poker faces.
P.S., I RECIEVED ALL OF YOUR LETTERS AND AM THRILLED TO KNOW THAT YOU'RE ENJOYING YOURSELVES, PULLING PRANKS AND BEING CALLED FAT BY ARTHUR. I'LL BE SO PROUD TO COLLECT ALL OF YOU BRATS IN A FEW WEEKS.
LOVE, MUMMY.