Fic: The Flying Dragon
Title: The Flying Dragon
Author:
jelazakazone
Fandom: Merlin
Pairings/characters: Gwaine/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: about 2.5K
Warnings: uh, sex happens?
Summary: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Merlin and Gwaine style
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am not intending to profit from them
Author’s notes: Mad props to lewisian_gneiss for telling me about this prompt and encouraging me and brainstorming with me and helping me write it. It never would have happened without her. Also, thanks to betas:kleinefee92 and dorkathus . Written for this prompt on the gwaine_quest comm.
Merlin felt his skin tingle the moment he walked through the doorway. At first he put it up to the familiar scents of oil, leather, and rubber mixing: a scent he knew from his years of riding and fixing motorcycles. He meandered around the show lazily, no particular path, just enjoying the sight of the beautiful bikes people had brought. After a while, he realized that he kept passing a particular bike, a spectacular bike, truth be told, that stood out in part for the bright red handles.
Unable to resist the pull the bike was having on him, he finally approached it, feeling a bit timid as if something wild lurked underneath the metal and leather and he wiped damp palms on his tight leather trousers.
“Afternoon.”
The voice shook Merlin out of his reverie.
“Uh, afternoon. I, uh, couldn’t help noticing your bike. It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. The Flying Dragon. She’s something special. I worked hard on her, getting all the right components so she would shine as well as fly like the wind.”
Something clicked in Merlin’s mind and he understood the tingle he’d felt upon walking in the doorway. The bike had magic. He was suddenly desperate for a ride. He tried to calm himself so the man wouldn’t throw him out on his arse.
“Do you mind if I touch her?”
Shaking his head and grinning, the man said, “Go ahead. Just remember, she is coming home with me.”
As he stroked the seat and then caressed the unusual handlebars, Merlin muttered, “Maybe I’ll go home with you too.”
“What was that?”
Merlin broke away from the bike and looked up, finally noticing the broad man the voice was attached to. He had loose shoulder length hair, like many of the men there, but his was a deep mahogany rather than peppered with white and black.
“Oh, uh, nothing. Would you mind telling me about the handlebars?”
“Sure,” the man said, clapping his hand on Merlin’s shoulder and squeezing it. “The handlebars were a gift from my uncle. This is my first motorcycle. I couldn’t afford a nice bike, so I bought a junker and built her up. Everyone in the family has contributed something over time.”
Merlin stared at the man, wondering how long he was going to talk about the individual components.
The man said, “Oh, the handlebars. Riiiight. As I was saying, my uncle bought the handlebars and the metal was kind of sharp, so my Granda offered to make me some wooden handles to go over them. He’s been turning bowls and vases out of wood for years, so the handlebars were easy for him and he wanted to contribute something special too.”
“I’m Merlin, by the way. Nice to meet you....”
“Gwaine.” He stuck out his arm, grasping Merlin’s long slender fingers with his warm hand.
Unable to keep his hands off the fine red wood, Merlin returned to stroking it gently.
“Oh, you have some fine taste there. Granda started with ash and was inspired to ‘pep it up a little’. He told me he used this stuff he’d gotten from his granda.”
Merlin hadn’t really been paying attention; he’d been communing with the wood, trying to figure out what the song was that was not quite audible. This piece of information caused him to perk up.
“Oh? He used some really old stuff to dye the wood? Do you remember what he used?”
Gwaine put his hands up to his face, rubbed his eyes and shifted from one foot to the other, thinking.
“Mmmmm, what was it? Dinosaur bone? No no.”
Merlin stopped breathing.
“Mm, Dragon Bone?”
Merlin bit his lip.
“Oh! Dragon’s Blood!”
Gwaine opened his eyes to discover Merlin a shade or two lighter than he had been moments before. Merlin took in a shuddery breath and eased it out. Then another.
“Dragon’s blood?”
“Oh, don’t worry, it is not from a real dragon!” Gwaine chuckled.
Merlin leaned against the bike, looking for the machine to support him.
“You ok?”
Merlin took in a smooth breath, calming himself, and then said, “Fine.”
A bell rang, signaling five minutes to the end of the show.
“Um, I’ve got to pack up now.”
“Oh, of course. Can I help with anything?”
“Sure, grab the stuff on the table and just sling it in the duffel that’s underneath.”
A few minutes later and Gwaine’s belongings were sorted.
“Did you want to go out for a bite to eat?”
The siren song of the Dragon’s blood was drowned out by the thumping of his heart in his ears.
“Yeah, sure! That’d be great.”
Outside, Gwaine arranged the bags on the bike and handed Merlin the extra helmet. He straddled the bike and motioned for Merlin to hop on behind him. A little disappointed not to be driving, Merlin swung his leg around the seat. Gwaine started the engine. Now Merlin was glad he wasn’t driving and that Gwaine couldn’t see his face because he felt his cheeks heat up and a twist in his gut as the magic in the machine sang an aria to him. Merlin wrapped his arms around Gwaine tightly.
Daylight was waning as they pulled up to the The Green Dragon Pub. It hadn’t been a long ride, but Merlin felt jittery. Just before they entered, Gwaine paused, looking at Merlin.
“Hey. Merlin. I think I know that name.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m a mechanic. I see my reputation precedes me.”
Snapping his fingers and laughing Gwaine said, “Magical Merlin, the man who can fix any bike. I knew I’d heard that name!”
Merlin bit his lip, looked down and twisted his fingers together.
“Oh. Yeah. That’s me.”
Separated from the enchanting machine at last, Merlin was finally able to attend to Gwaine properly. From the look in Gwaine’s eyes, he would have sworn he was having the same effect on Gwaine that the motorcycle was having on him. Then Gwaine turned that same charming look on the waitress and Merlin felt his heart sink a little; the biker just looked at everyone that way.
Food ordered and song subdued, Merlin felt he could finally focus on Gwaine, except he realized that a foot was tenderly caressing his leg under the table. Merlin was desperate to know if Gwaine knew about the effect of the Dragon’s Blood on the bike, so he reluctantly withdrew his leg in order to concentrate on conversation.
“So, tell me more about your bike.”
“Oh, that’s right! We were talking about my custom touches. Um, where was I? Yes, the handlebars and the Dragon’s Blood.”
“Right, what is the story behind the Dragon’s Blood?”
“The story that my uncle and Granda tell is this: Something like ten generations ago, there was a knight in the family who went on a quest and along the way they met up with a pack of wyvern who were young and easily vanquished. The knights were always looking for easy sources of meat and so they dressed the beasts and ate them for supper. They had drained the blood because that’s where the magic of the creatures resided and they knew it would be poisonous for them. They saved that blood and brought it home where the court alchemist could properly preserve it and each knight who was on that quest got a block.”
Gwaine shrugged.
“Apparently my great-great-great howevermany greats granda never used it and just kept passing it down. But no one in my family believes it’s magic. You know what happens in stories. That’s just a bit of rubbish to make the thing look more enticing.”
Merlin’s bright blue eyes widened.
Hoarsely, he whispered, “It’s not rubbish.”
Gwaine guffawed, throwing his head back, hair swinging with the movement. He reached a thick arm across the table, clapping Merlin on the shoulder.
“Oh Merlin, if there were magic, I wouldn’t need to buy a second hand bike from a dump.”
Merlin decided to let this slide for now. He had recovered from his earlier astonishment and noticed a distressing pang in his belly that was probably responding to the savory odors of the food in front of him. As he tucked in to his meal, Gwaine gave him that lingering look, this time sending pleasant tingles down his torso, warming his groin.
The men were hungry and ate in silence for a while, enjoying the easy companionship. Gwaine stretched out his legs and rubbed his belly, tapping Merlin’s foot again in the process.
Gwaine said, “You want another pint of Guinness?”
Merlin shook his head. They’d eaten at a leisurely pace and Merlin felt if he ate another bite he’d explode. He refrained from ordering any more. As his eyelids drooped a little, he wondered if Gwaine was trying to forestall parting ways. The foot started caressing gently behind his knee making Merlin smile.
It was time to go. They could linger no longer. They stepped outside into darkness that was illuminated by a burst of light followed by the loud bang of fireworks! Startled, the men jostled together, clinging to each other for a moment for support. Once they’d recovered, they laughed, but companionably kept hold of each other.
“I’d forgotten about Chinese New Year,” Gwaine laughed. “Look, there’s a parade in progress, let’s go check it out!”
He grabbed Merlin’s hand and dragged him down the street where they soon joined a crowd of revelers under a big red undulating dragon held aloft by a dozen walkers. Merlin looked up in awe, Gwaine looking fondly at Merlin. Chinese cocktails were passed around in plastic cups. The mood was very convivial. There was even fiddling and drumming at some point on the route.
Having circled round, and several cocktails later, they found themselves back at The Green Dragon where Gwaine’s bike was parked.
Festivities were just getting into full swing. Gwaine had an arm over Merlin’s shoulders, so Merlin wasn’t surprised when Gwaine said, “Aw, Merlin. How the hell are we going to get out of here? I juss wanna go home and I’m no condition to drive.”
“Gwaine, do you trust me?”
“Sure man. I can direct you to my flat.”
“Not a problem. Just get on the bike behind me and whatever you do, don’t let go.”
This time Merlin handed out the helmets and got on first. Gwaine wrapped his arms around Merlin, who was tingling. He tentatively reached out to put his hands on the Dragon’s Blood handles. As soon as he touched ignition switch, the magic gently flowed into him, relaxing him as well as sobering him up.
Magic and anticipation flowing through his veins, Merlin revved the engine and yelled, “Let’s see what this baby can do!”
As Merlin let out the clutch, the bike lurched forward and Merlin felt Gwaine’s already firm hold tighten, as if Gwaine thought he were going to mow down the revelers in front of them. Merlin felt his stomach drop; he whooped with delight. Aware of Gwaine at his back, he felt the initial tremors of terror slide into shivers of joy as Gwaine howled his delight when they lifted over the heads of the crowd.
Merlin flew over the revelers, confident they’d blame the memory of a flying motorcycle on the celebration. He wanted this trip to last, so he decided to take the scenic route. They weren’t in a hurry and Merlin was happy to give Gwaine a ride he would remember.
Protected by their clothing and helmets, the chill wind that whooshed by did not bother them. The night sky was clear: stars twinkled above them, lights shone below them, each dotting their own landscape. Merlin was glad of Gwaine’s warmth behind him; it was cold up here. He could feel Gwaine’s body, melded to his own, easily anticipating turns as Merlin telegraphed them through his own movements.
When Merlin flew, he felt at one with the world. He was in complete control of the bike and his awareness extended beyond his own body, encompassing as far as he could see. The magic that flowed into him heightened his sensitivities. Merlin was impressed with Gwaine’s ready acceptance followed by excitement. The other man’s exhilaration fed into his own. As one, they shivered with excitement, their mutual desire building.
Merlin was intoxicated, flying high. The thrum of the machine underneath him, the virile man at his back, and the magic looping through his body acted in concert, raising his excitement to a fevered pitch. He could only imagine how Gwaine was feeling, but he knew Gwaine wanted him if the bulge at his buttocks was anything to go by.
Merlin’s heart felt light; his path reflected his feelings. He circled around to fly over rooftops, rising and diving when they came to chimneys, across the river and over several parks.
He glided down, landing smoothly on the pavement in front of Gwaine’s flat. Throwing back his head, Gwaine laughed and whooped. They hopped off the bike and took their helmets off. Gwaine grabbed Merlin and planted a big kiss on his lips.
“That was some ride! Come on in.”
Merlin was not surprised, and more than willing, when Gwaine grabbed his hand and bounded up the steps to the front door. Keys jingling, he had the door opened quickly and then Gwaine was shoving Merlin against the wall, pulling the leather jacket off, kissing him, mouth open and wet and Merlin was kissing back, grabbing Gwaine’s hair.
Merlin broke off the kiss, breathing heavily, and said, “Slow down. We’ve got all night.”
He stripped Gwaine’s jacket off, leading him to a tattered couch that looked like it had been inherited from his great-aunt and then taken over by a cat. They sank down onto the couch and reached for each other, kissing right where they’d left off. The ride had left them with more energy than they knew what to do with. Hands roamed over backs and arms and they slid over so that Gwaine was lying on top of Merlin. Merlin snaked his hands under Gwaine’s waistband to cup his arse. Gwaine moaned and rutted against Merlin’s thigh. Merlin smiled, vigorously kissing Gwaine, pulling him closer.
He pushed Gwaine’s jeans down, gaining access to the zipper. Quick hands exposed Gwaine’s erection to finger and palm the smooth warm skin. Gwaine bucked his hips, smiling from the pleasure of it.
Merlin scooted underneath Gwaine, catching Gwaine’s cock in his mouth and wrapping a hand back around to cup his arse.
Merlin heard a grunted, “I’m close.”
Merlin licked and sucked. He moaned and rubbed his own cock, straining against his leather trousers, on a leg. With a shudder, Gwaine came.
Gently, Gwaine lay down next to Merlin on the cramped couch, Merlin’s face still near his crotch, warm breath stirring the hairs and sensitized skin. Gwaine laughed and pulled Merlin back up to him, kissing him sloppily, feeling at his still hard dick.
Merlin unzipped his fly; he was anxious for his turn and Gwaine wasted no time reaching in to free Merlin’s erection. This time it was Merlin’s turn to buck his hips into Gwaine’s calloused hands. Magic still flowing through his veins, it didn’t take long before Merlin spilled into those hands.
Sated and messy, the men lay in each others arm for a long time before Gwaine said, “You gotta tell me how you do that. That was some ride.”
This entry was originally posted at http://jelazakazone.dreamwidth.org/537877.html. Feel free to comment here or there.
Author:
jelazakazone
Fandom: Merlin
Pairings/characters: Gwaine/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: about 2.5K
Warnings: uh, sex happens?
Summary: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Merlin and Gwaine style
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am not intending to profit from them
Author’s notes: Mad props to lewisian_gneiss for telling me about this prompt and encouraging me and brainstorming with me and helping me write it. It never would have happened without her. Also, thanks to betas:kleinefee92 and dorkathus . Written for this prompt on the gwaine_quest comm.
Merlin felt his skin tingle the moment he walked through the doorway. At first he put it up to the familiar scents of oil, leather, and rubber mixing: a scent he knew from his years of riding and fixing motorcycles. He meandered around the show lazily, no particular path, just enjoying the sight of the beautiful bikes people had brought. After a while, he realized that he kept passing a particular bike, a spectacular bike, truth be told, that stood out in part for the bright red handles.
Unable to resist the pull the bike was having on him, he finally approached it, feeling a bit timid as if something wild lurked underneath the metal and leather and he wiped damp palms on his tight leather trousers.
“Afternoon.”
The voice shook Merlin out of his reverie.
“Uh, afternoon. I, uh, couldn’t help noticing your bike. It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. The Flying Dragon. She’s something special. I worked hard on her, getting all the right components so she would shine as well as fly like the wind.”
Something clicked in Merlin’s mind and he understood the tingle he’d felt upon walking in the doorway. The bike had magic. He was suddenly desperate for a ride. He tried to calm himself so the man wouldn’t throw him out on his arse.
“Do you mind if I touch her?”
Shaking his head and grinning, the man said, “Go ahead. Just remember, she is coming home with me.”
As he stroked the seat and then caressed the unusual handlebars, Merlin muttered, “Maybe I’ll go home with you too.”
“What was that?”
Merlin broke away from the bike and looked up, finally noticing the broad man the voice was attached to. He had loose shoulder length hair, like many of the men there, but his was a deep mahogany rather than peppered with white and black.
“Oh, uh, nothing. Would you mind telling me about the handlebars?”
“Sure,” the man said, clapping his hand on Merlin’s shoulder and squeezing it. “The handlebars were a gift from my uncle. This is my first motorcycle. I couldn’t afford a nice bike, so I bought a junker and built her up. Everyone in the family has contributed something over time.”
Merlin stared at the man, wondering how long he was going to talk about the individual components.
The man said, “Oh, the handlebars. Riiiight. As I was saying, my uncle bought the handlebars and the metal was kind of sharp, so my Granda offered to make me some wooden handles to go over them. He’s been turning bowls and vases out of wood for years, so the handlebars were easy for him and he wanted to contribute something special too.”
“I’m Merlin, by the way. Nice to meet you....”
“Gwaine.” He stuck out his arm, grasping Merlin’s long slender fingers with his warm hand.
Unable to keep his hands off the fine red wood, Merlin returned to stroking it gently.
“Oh, you have some fine taste there. Granda started with ash and was inspired to ‘pep it up a little’. He told me he used this stuff he’d gotten from his granda.”
Merlin hadn’t really been paying attention; he’d been communing with the wood, trying to figure out what the song was that was not quite audible. This piece of information caused him to perk up.
“Oh? He used some really old stuff to dye the wood? Do you remember what he used?”
Gwaine put his hands up to his face, rubbed his eyes and shifted from one foot to the other, thinking.
“Mmmmm, what was it? Dinosaur bone? No no.”
Merlin stopped breathing.
“Mm, Dragon Bone?”
Merlin bit his lip.
“Oh! Dragon’s Blood!”
Gwaine opened his eyes to discover Merlin a shade or two lighter than he had been moments before. Merlin took in a shuddery breath and eased it out. Then another.
“Dragon’s blood?”
“Oh, don’t worry, it is not from a real dragon!” Gwaine chuckled.
Merlin leaned against the bike, looking for the machine to support him.
“You ok?”
Merlin took in a smooth breath, calming himself, and then said, “Fine.”
A bell rang, signaling five minutes to the end of the show.
“Um, I’ve got to pack up now.”
“Oh, of course. Can I help with anything?”
“Sure, grab the stuff on the table and just sling it in the duffel that’s underneath.”
A few minutes later and Gwaine’s belongings were sorted.
“Did you want to go out for a bite to eat?”
The siren song of the Dragon’s blood was drowned out by the thumping of his heart in his ears.
“Yeah, sure! That’d be great.”
Outside, Gwaine arranged the bags on the bike and handed Merlin the extra helmet. He straddled the bike and motioned for Merlin to hop on behind him. A little disappointed not to be driving, Merlin swung his leg around the seat. Gwaine started the engine. Now Merlin was glad he wasn’t driving and that Gwaine couldn’t see his face because he felt his cheeks heat up and a twist in his gut as the magic in the machine sang an aria to him. Merlin wrapped his arms around Gwaine tightly.
Daylight was waning as they pulled up to the The Green Dragon Pub. It hadn’t been a long ride, but Merlin felt jittery. Just before they entered, Gwaine paused, looking at Merlin.
“Hey. Merlin. I think I know that name.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m a mechanic. I see my reputation precedes me.”
Snapping his fingers and laughing Gwaine said, “Magical Merlin, the man who can fix any bike. I knew I’d heard that name!”
Merlin bit his lip, looked down and twisted his fingers together.
“Oh. Yeah. That’s me.”
Separated from the enchanting machine at last, Merlin was finally able to attend to Gwaine properly. From the look in Gwaine’s eyes, he would have sworn he was having the same effect on Gwaine that the motorcycle was having on him. Then Gwaine turned that same charming look on the waitress and Merlin felt his heart sink a little; the biker just looked at everyone that way.
Food ordered and song subdued, Merlin felt he could finally focus on Gwaine, except he realized that a foot was tenderly caressing his leg under the table. Merlin was desperate to know if Gwaine knew about the effect of the Dragon’s Blood on the bike, so he reluctantly withdrew his leg in order to concentrate on conversation.
“So, tell me more about your bike.”
“Oh, that’s right! We were talking about my custom touches. Um, where was I? Yes, the handlebars and the Dragon’s Blood.”
“Right, what is the story behind the Dragon’s Blood?”
“The story that my uncle and Granda tell is this: Something like ten generations ago, there was a knight in the family who went on a quest and along the way they met up with a pack of wyvern who were young and easily vanquished. The knights were always looking for easy sources of meat and so they dressed the beasts and ate them for supper. They had drained the blood because that’s where the magic of the creatures resided and they knew it would be poisonous for them. They saved that blood and brought it home where the court alchemist could properly preserve it and each knight who was on that quest got a block.”
Gwaine shrugged.
“Apparently my great-great-great howevermany greats granda never used it and just kept passing it down. But no one in my family believes it’s magic. You know what happens in stories. That’s just a bit of rubbish to make the thing look more enticing.”
Merlin’s bright blue eyes widened.
Hoarsely, he whispered, “It’s not rubbish.”
Gwaine guffawed, throwing his head back, hair swinging with the movement. He reached a thick arm across the table, clapping Merlin on the shoulder.
“Oh Merlin, if there were magic, I wouldn’t need to buy a second hand bike from a dump.”
Merlin decided to let this slide for now. He had recovered from his earlier astonishment and noticed a distressing pang in his belly that was probably responding to the savory odors of the food in front of him. As he tucked in to his meal, Gwaine gave him that lingering look, this time sending pleasant tingles down his torso, warming his groin.
The men were hungry and ate in silence for a while, enjoying the easy companionship. Gwaine stretched out his legs and rubbed his belly, tapping Merlin’s foot again in the process.
Gwaine said, “You want another pint of Guinness?”
Merlin shook his head. They’d eaten at a leisurely pace and Merlin felt if he ate another bite he’d explode. He refrained from ordering any more. As his eyelids drooped a little, he wondered if Gwaine was trying to forestall parting ways. The foot started caressing gently behind his knee making Merlin smile.
It was time to go. They could linger no longer. They stepped outside into darkness that was illuminated by a burst of light followed by the loud bang of fireworks! Startled, the men jostled together, clinging to each other for a moment for support. Once they’d recovered, they laughed, but companionably kept hold of each other.
“I’d forgotten about Chinese New Year,” Gwaine laughed. “Look, there’s a parade in progress, let’s go check it out!”
He grabbed Merlin’s hand and dragged him down the street where they soon joined a crowd of revelers under a big red undulating dragon held aloft by a dozen walkers. Merlin looked up in awe, Gwaine looking fondly at Merlin. Chinese cocktails were passed around in plastic cups. The mood was very convivial. There was even fiddling and drumming at some point on the route.
Having circled round, and several cocktails later, they found themselves back at The Green Dragon where Gwaine’s bike was parked.
Festivities were just getting into full swing. Gwaine had an arm over Merlin’s shoulders, so Merlin wasn’t surprised when Gwaine said, “Aw, Merlin. How the hell are we going to get out of here? I juss wanna go home and I’m no condition to drive.”
“Gwaine, do you trust me?”
“Sure man. I can direct you to my flat.”
“Not a problem. Just get on the bike behind me and whatever you do, don’t let go.”
This time Merlin handed out the helmets and got on first. Gwaine wrapped his arms around Merlin, who was tingling. He tentatively reached out to put his hands on the Dragon’s Blood handles. As soon as he touched ignition switch, the magic gently flowed into him, relaxing him as well as sobering him up.
Magic and anticipation flowing through his veins, Merlin revved the engine and yelled, “Let’s see what this baby can do!”
As Merlin let out the clutch, the bike lurched forward and Merlin felt Gwaine’s already firm hold tighten, as if Gwaine thought he were going to mow down the revelers in front of them. Merlin felt his stomach drop; he whooped with delight. Aware of Gwaine at his back, he felt the initial tremors of terror slide into shivers of joy as Gwaine howled his delight when they lifted over the heads of the crowd.
Merlin flew over the revelers, confident they’d blame the memory of a flying motorcycle on the celebration. He wanted this trip to last, so he decided to take the scenic route. They weren’t in a hurry and Merlin was happy to give Gwaine a ride he would remember.
Protected by their clothing and helmets, the chill wind that whooshed by did not bother them. The night sky was clear: stars twinkled above them, lights shone below them, each dotting their own landscape. Merlin was glad of Gwaine’s warmth behind him; it was cold up here. He could feel Gwaine’s body, melded to his own, easily anticipating turns as Merlin telegraphed them through his own movements.
When Merlin flew, he felt at one with the world. He was in complete control of the bike and his awareness extended beyond his own body, encompassing as far as he could see. The magic that flowed into him heightened his sensitivities. Merlin was impressed with Gwaine’s ready acceptance followed by excitement. The other man’s exhilaration fed into his own. As one, they shivered with excitement, their mutual desire building.
Merlin was intoxicated, flying high. The thrum of the machine underneath him, the virile man at his back, and the magic looping through his body acted in concert, raising his excitement to a fevered pitch. He could only imagine how Gwaine was feeling, but he knew Gwaine wanted him if the bulge at his buttocks was anything to go by.
Merlin’s heart felt light; his path reflected his feelings. He circled around to fly over rooftops, rising and diving when they came to chimneys, across the river and over several parks.
He glided down, landing smoothly on the pavement in front of Gwaine’s flat. Throwing back his head, Gwaine laughed and whooped. They hopped off the bike and took their helmets off. Gwaine grabbed Merlin and planted a big kiss on his lips.
“That was some ride! Come on in.”
Merlin was not surprised, and more than willing, when Gwaine grabbed his hand and bounded up the steps to the front door. Keys jingling, he had the door opened quickly and then Gwaine was shoving Merlin against the wall, pulling the leather jacket off, kissing him, mouth open and wet and Merlin was kissing back, grabbing Gwaine’s hair.
Merlin broke off the kiss, breathing heavily, and said, “Slow down. We’ve got all night.”
He stripped Gwaine’s jacket off, leading him to a tattered couch that looked like it had been inherited from his great-aunt and then taken over by a cat. They sank down onto the couch and reached for each other, kissing right where they’d left off. The ride had left them with more energy than they knew what to do with. Hands roamed over backs and arms and they slid over so that Gwaine was lying on top of Merlin. Merlin snaked his hands under Gwaine’s waistband to cup his arse. Gwaine moaned and rutted against Merlin’s thigh. Merlin smiled, vigorously kissing Gwaine, pulling him closer.
He pushed Gwaine’s jeans down, gaining access to the zipper. Quick hands exposed Gwaine’s erection to finger and palm the smooth warm skin. Gwaine bucked his hips, smiling from the pleasure of it.
Merlin scooted underneath Gwaine, catching Gwaine’s cock in his mouth and wrapping a hand back around to cup his arse.
Merlin heard a grunted, “I’m close.”
Merlin licked and sucked. He moaned and rubbed his own cock, straining against his leather trousers, on a leg. With a shudder, Gwaine came.
Gently, Gwaine lay down next to Merlin on the cramped couch, Merlin’s face still near his crotch, warm breath stirring the hairs and sensitized skin. Gwaine laughed and pulled Merlin back up to him, kissing him sloppily, feeling at his still hard dick.
Merlin unzipped his fly; he was anxious for his turn and Gwaine wasted no time reaching in to free Merlin’s erection. This time it was Merlin’s turn to buck his hips into Gwaine’s calloused hands. Magic still flowing through his veins, it didn’t take long before Merlin spilled into those hands.
Sated and messy, the men lay in each others arm for a long time before Gwaine said, “You gotta tell me how you do that. That was some ride.”
This entry was originally posted at http://jelazakazone.dreamwidth.org/537877.html. Feel free to comment here or there.