Merlin fic: Two Weeks and Two Days (Merlin/Arthur, NC-17)
Two Weeks and Two Days
Merlin/Arthur, NC-17, ~800 words
Written for oxoniensis's Porn Battle VII, for the prompts "pride, fire." It was too long to fit into a comment. Thanks to luzdeestrellas for the quick beta.
Merlin knelt and added another log to the fire on Arthur's hearth. Arthur's mud-spattered and rain-rusted armor lay in a heap on the table, ready for Merlin to attend to it. Arthur himself lay sprawled on his back across the width of his bed in his shirt and breeches.
"You no doubt got used to an easy life while I was away," Arthur said, his voice a lazy drawl. But when Merlin glanced over, he found Arthur's gaze intent upon him.
Two weeks and two days. Merlin hadn't even realized he'd been counting until that sharp moment when he'd seen Arthur riding into the courtyard with his knights. He'd ducked back under the arch, unprepared for the way his heart had beat faster with relief.
"Gaius kept me busy," Merlin said, and that didn't come out nearly as flippant as he'd wanted. "Delivering medicines and gathering herbs."
The stories of the bloodiness and viciousness of the raids across the border had spread from kitchen to stables. Two weeks and two days.
"I barely noticed you were gone," Merlin added, picking up Arthur's boots to set them by the door.
Arthur sat up. "Really?" He said, a mocking, lopsided smile on his face.
"Really," Merlin said calmly, his fingers clenching tight around the leather.
He wished Arthur would stop watching him like that. It was too hot in the room from the fire and he felt a flush rise warm to his face. He stood there holding the muddy boots like an idiot.
He probably would've kept on standing there holding the muddy boots for a hundred years, except Arthur got up suddenly and walked over to him, padding in his bare feet, and the boots fell from Merlin's fingers. Everything narrowed to the crackle of the fire, the way the light played over Arthur's bright, damp hair.
Arthur stepped right up close to him, put his hands on either side of Merlin's head, palms against the wall. Short of ducking under Arthur's arm in a very undignified way, Merlin was caught. The stone of the wall was cool against his back through his shirt. Arthur smelled of soap from his bath and still a trace of horse and grass from his long journey, and underneath the smoke and blood that was probably only Merlin's imagination.
"Liar," Arthur said, his voice rasping low, before he leaned in and covered Merlin's mouth with his own.
The kiss was hard and demanding. Arthur's hands moved from the wall to cradle either side of Merlin's head, his fingers as gentle as the kiss wasn't. With a blank, stunned sort of flash, Merlin understood that Arthur had missed him quite a lot.
"Arthur," Merlin murmured against his mouth, then grabbed Arthur's biceps, feeling the taut muscles under his grasp. He let himself kiss back as hungrily as he'd wanted to for a while. Arthur's whole body pressed up against Merlin's, the wall at his back. Merlin let go of Arthur's arms and slid his hands up Arthur's back, under his shirt, finding the shallow ridge of a scar, feeling the warmth of his skin.
Arthur's fingers started to undo the laces of Merlin's breeches while his mouth moved to Merlin's jaw, then his neck. Moving a hand down, Merlin felt the hardness of Arthur's cock through the cloth. He cupped him, squeezed lightly, causing Arthur to make a low sound in his throat. Encouraged, Merlin slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of Arthur's already loose breeches, which sat low-slung on his hips. He curled his fingers around Arthur's cock, touched the wetness at the tip with his thumb, and Arthur's body jerked in response. His tongue licked at the hollow of Arthur's throat, tasting skin salty with fresh sweat.
It was too much, so long trying to pretend he didn't want this, and then the two weeks and two days, and now this, Arthur thrusting up against him while he murmured Merlin, Merlin, and it was better, more exciting than doing magic. He felt Arthur's fingers pulling his cock free, and the sudden brush of cool air wasn't the reason for his shiver.
Their breaths emerged in short gasps. Their sounds and their heat drowned the noise and warmth of the fire.
His lips found Arthur's again, and he came with his shout muffled into Arthur's mouth. A moment later he felt Arthur spurt hot over his fingers as Arthur arched his head back and groaned out Merlin's name. He slumped forward and Merlin slumped back, the wall holding them up.
Then they both sank down to the floor together, their arms and legs tangled, Arthur's head against Merlin's chest.
Merlin/Arthur, NC-17, ~800 words
Written for oxoniensis's Porn Battle VII, for the prompts "pride, fire." It was too long to fit into a comment. Thanks to luzdeestrellas for the quick beta.
Merlin knelt and added another log to the fire on Arthur's hearth. Arthur's mud-spattered and rain-rusted armor lay in a heap on the table, ready for Merlin to attend to it. Arthur himself lay sprawled on his back across the width of his bed in his shirt and breeches.
"You no doubt got used to an easy life while I was away," Arthur said, his voice a lazy drawl. But when Merlin glanced over, he found Arthur's gaze intent upon him.
Two weeks and two days. Merlin hadn't even realized he'd been counting until that sharp moment when he'd seen Arthur riding into the courtyard with his knights. He'd ducked back under the arch, unprepared for the way his heart had beat faster with relief.
"Gaius kept me busy," Merlin said, and that didn't come out nearly as flippant as he'd wanted. "Delivering medicines and gathering herbs."
The stories of the bloodiness and viciousness of the raids across the border had spread from kitchen to stables. Two weeks and two days.
"I barely noticed you were gone," Merlin added, picking up Arthur's boots to set them by the door.
Arthur sat up. "Really?" He said, a mocking, lopsided smile on his face.
"Really," Merlin said calmly, his fingers clenching tight around the leather.
He wished Arthur would stop watching him like that. It was too hot in the room from the fire and he felt a flush rise warm to his face. He stood there holding the muddy boots like an idiot.
He probably would've kept on standing there holding the muddy boots for a hundred years, except Arthur got up suddenly and walked over to him, padding in his bare feet, and the boots fell from Merlin's fingers. Everything narrowed to the crackle of the fire, the way the light played over Arthur's bright, damp hair.
Arthur stepped right up close to him, put his hands on either side of Merlin's head, palms against the wall. Short of ducking under Arthur's arm in a very undignified way, Merlin was caught. The stone of the wall was cool against his back through his shirt. Arthur smelled of soap from his bath and still a trace of horse and grass from his long journey, and underneath the smoke and blood that was probably only Merlin's imagination.
"Liar," Arthur said, his voice rasping low, before he leaned in and covered Merlin's mouth with his own.
The kiss was hard and demanding. Arthur's hands moved from the wall to cradle either side of Merlin's head, his fingers as gentle as the kiss wasn't. With a blank, stunned sort of flash, Merlin understood that Arthur had missed him quite a lot.
"Arthur," Merlin murmured against his mouth, then grabbed Arthur's biceps, feeling the taut muscles under his grasp. He let himself kiss back as hungrily as he'd wanted to for a while. Arthur's whole body pressed up against Merlin's, the wall at his back. Merlin let go of Arthur's arms and slid his hands up Arthur's back, under his shirt, finding the shallow ridge of a scar, feeling the warmth of his skin.
Arthur's fingers started to undo the laces of Merlin's breeches while his mouth moved to Merlin's jaw, then his neck. Moving a hand down, Merlin felt the hardness of Arthur's cock through the cloth. He cupped him, squeezed lightly, causing Arthur to make a low sound in his throat. Encouraged, Merlin slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of Arthur's already loose breeches, which sat low-slung on his hips. He curled his fingers around Arthur's cock, touched the wetness at the tip with his thumb, and Arthur's body jerked in response. His tongue licked at the hollow of Arthur's throat, tasting skin salty with fresh sweat.
It was too much, so long trying to pretend he didn't want this, and then the two weeks and two days, and now this, Arthur thrusting up against him while he murmured Merlin, Merlin, and it was better, more exciting than doing magic. He felt Arthur's fingers pulling his cock free, and the sudden brush of cool air wasn't the reason for his shiver.
Their breaths emerged in short gasps. Their sounds and their heat drowned the noise and warmth of the fire.
His lips found Arthur's again, and he came with his shout muffled into Arthur's mouth. A moment later he felt Arthur spurt hot over his fingers as Arthur arched his head back and groaned out Merlin's name. He slumped forward and Merlin slumped back, the wall holding them up.
Then they both sank down to the floor together, their arms and legs tangled, Arthur's head against Merlin's chest.