Silly Merlin Prawn
All right, where I come from, we used to call this a lemon. A light and citrusy PWP with zero craft involved.
I am ASHAMED. But it needed to be written.
Title: [doesn't deserve one]
Rating: R
Summary: A question from Gaius spurs on some prince/servant smut.
“Merlin, I must ask you a question,” Gaius said one morning, as Merlin stumbled out of his bedroom. “It might seem impertinent, but I assure you, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t feel it was necessary...”
“Go on, Gaius,” Merlin answered, a little bemused at the physician’s reticence, but also vaguely alarmed. Whatever it was, it was big; Gaius never seemed to worry too much about embarrassing Merlin, though he did usually allow him his privacy. Merlin combed his fingers through his hair and sat down to the breakfast porridge Gaius had laid out for them.
“Well, I don’t know exactly how to say this,” Gaius began. “But is your relationship with Arthur by any means... unusual?”
Merlin broke out into a wide grin. “Of course it is,” he answered. “You know as well as I do what the Great Dragon said about our destinies. It’s probably the prime example in a book about unusual relationships.”
“Clever,” Gaius retorted, slightly sarcastic. His face darkened. “No, what I mean to say is-- Merlin, is your friendship with Prince Arthur in any way-- by which of course I don’t mean to accuse--”
Merlin’s mouth dropped open. A half-chewed piece of bread fell out. “Gaius,” he said slowly, trying to chew enough to swallow, “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?”
“It’s only a question, Merlin,” Gaius responded uncomfortably. “Just a-- a thought I had.”
Merlin was stock-still for a moment, then burst into easy laughter. “Gaius, it’s Arthur,” he said, still laughing. “I don’t think he’s one to, er, go for manservants when he can have chambermaids.”
Gaius’ brow knit in consternation. “Perhaps,” he said, and smiled warmly.
***
“You will never believe what Gaius asked me this morning,” Merlin told Arthur later, as he folded his tunic and trousers and set about tidying Arthur’s bedchamber as the latter changed into sleeping clothes.
Arthur looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “No, I won’t,” he said.
“He thought-- he wanted to know-- whether you and I were...” Merlin drifted off, gesturing vaguely between himself and Arthur. “Can you imagine?”
Arthur turned pale. “Whether you and I were...?” He imitated Merlin’s vague gesture. “Come on, say it, Merlin.”
“Whether you and I had been tumbling, I suppose,” Merlin offered weakly, still grinning.
“What would have given him that impression?” Arthur asked, shrugging into the robe Merlin held out for him.
“I’ve no idea, didn’t ask,” Merlin answered, turning down the bedclothes.
“Could it be that you want to have me?” Arthur mused, a teasing gleam in his eyes. Merlin flushed, the smile frozen on his features. “Could it possibly be that Gaius noticed that you look at me that way sometimes? I’ve noticed.”
Merlin swallowed, suddenly serious. “Arthur,” he said, warningly.
“Right,” Arthur chuckled, turning around so that they were face to face, only centimetres apart. “If I were to kiss you, right now, you wouldn’t like it?”
Merlin swallowed again, his eyes struggling to stay open. His heart suddenly beat so fast that they could both hear it. He tried for his old insolence.
“I don’t know what you’re on about, but I think it’s you who wants me,” he tried, pulling back from Arthur’s raking gaze. “Sire,” he added as an afterthought.
“Oh, really,” Arthur said mockingly, rolling his eyes. “I think not.”
Merlin bit the insides of his lips compulsively as Arthur bent forward suddenly. His eyes closed and he leant infinitely close to Merlin’s mouth, then hesitated.
“You sure?” Arthur whispered, hoarse, blinking up at Merlin. His eyes were so close. Merlin’s wrist twitched slightly, and Arthur collided into him. He hadn’t intended to use magic, Merlin told himself, as he kissed Arthur in earnest. His hand had done that on its own, the force of the spell knocking Arthur the half-centimeter closer. At any rate, Arthur was kissing back, and if Merlin didn’t know better, he would have said it seemed like the prince was enjoying it.
Merlin felt innocent for all of three minutes, unsure of what to do until he stopped thinking about it. Arthur gasped out loud against his mouth when Merlin deepened the kiss, grabbing Arthur’s neck and pulling him closer, until they stumbled to the wall. Merlin’s back slammed up against the stones as Arthur reached out an arm to brace them, still holding Merlin to him with the other hand. They broke apart.
“Ehm,” Merlin started. Arthur’s eyes darkened.
“Don’t speak, Merlin, you’ll just ruin it,” Arthur muttered, letting his hand drift down to the front of Merlin’s trousers and cup him gently through the scratchy wool. Merlin inhaled sharply and opened his mouth to retort. “I mean it,” Arthur growled, pushing his thigh between Merlin’s legs and grinding roughly.
“Yes, Sire,” Merlin uttered, earning himself a glare. He grinned insolently and tucked a warm hand up Arthur’s tunic, rubbing slowly across his chest. He could feel the sparse hair there prickle over hard muscles. “Gods, you’re fit,” he breathed.
“I’d no idea you noticed,” Arthur panted, trying to hide his arousal. His thigh moved mercilessly against Merlin’s.
“I-- I noticed,” stammered Merlin, eyes closing with pleasure.
“You can’t seriously be about to come already?” Arthur said, ever the charmer.
Merlin flushed. “Maybe I would be, if you weren’t such a huge prat about it,” he breathed. “Oh,” he murmured, as Arthur licked his palm and gripped his cock in earnest.
“Want to call me a prat again, servant?” Arthur asked dangerously, though Merlin could hear no malice behind it.
“Prat,” he bit out, and then Arthur’s mouth was on his again and his lungs couldn’t get enough air. “Wait,” he said, and knelt down. Arthur’s eyes glittered down at him, and he tangled a hand in Merlin’s hair.
“It’s-- good to see you know your place,” Arthur managed, throat tight. Merlin just tossed him another one of those insouciant grins and nuzzled his erection through his trousers.
“I’m not going to call you ‘sire,’” Merlin said, unlacing the front. One hand surreptitiously grabbed hold of his own cock as the other held Arthur’s. The prince stifled a moan.
“Whatever,” Arthur grit out, pushing Merlin’s head forward.
I am ASHAMED. But it needed to be written.
Title: [doesn't deserve one]
Rating: R
Summary: A question from Gaius spurs on some prince/servant smut.
“Merlin, I must ask you a question,” Gaius said one morning, as Merlin stumbled out of his bedroom. “It might seem impertinent, but I assure you, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t feel it was necessary...”
“Go on, Gaius,” Merlin answered, a little bemused at the physician’s reticence, but also vaguely alarmed. Whatever it was, it was big; Gaius never seemed to worry too much about embarrassing Merlin, though he did usually allow him his privacy. Merlin combed his fingers through his hair and sat down to the breakfast porridge Gaius had laid out for them.
“Well, I don’t know exactly how to say this,” Gaius began. “But is your relationship with Arthur by any means... unusual?”
Merlin broke out into a wide grin. “Of course it is,” he answered. “You know as well as I do what the Great Dragon said about our destinies. It’s probably the prime example in a book about unusual relationships.”
“Clever,” Gaius retorted, slightly sarcastic. His face darkened. “No, what I mean to say is-- Merlin, is your friendship with Prince Arthur in any way-- by which of course I don’t mean to accuse--”
Merlin’s mouth dropped open. A half-chewed piece of bread fell out. “Gaius,” he said slowly, trying to chew enough to swallow, “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?”
“It’s only a question, Merlin,” Gaius responded uncomfortably. “Just a-- a thought I had.”
Merlin was stock-still for a moment, then burst into easy laughter. “Gaius, it’s Arthur,” he said, still laughing. “I don’t think he’s one to, er, go for manservants when he can have chambermaids.”
Gaius’ brow knit in consternation. “Perhaps,” he said, and smiled warmly.
***
“You will never believe what Gaius asked me this morning,” Merlin told Arthur later, as he folded his tunic and trousers and set about tidying Arthur’s bedchamber as the latter changed into sleeping clothes.
Arthur looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “No, I won’t,” he said.
“He thought-- he wanted to know-- whether you and I were...” Merlin drifted off, gesturing vaguely between himself and Arthur. “Can you imagine?”
Arthur turned pale. “Whether you and I were...?” He imitated Merlin’s vague gesture. “Come on, say it, Merlin.”
“Whether you and I had been tumbling, I suppose,” Merlin offered weakly, still grinning.
“What would have given him that impression?” Arthur asked, shrugging into the robe Merlin held out for him.
“I’ve no idea, didn’t ask,” Merlin answered, turning down the bedclothes.
“Could it be that you want to have me?” Arthur mused, a teasing gleam in his eyes. Merlin flushed, the smile frozen on his features. “Could it possibly be that Gaius noticed that you look at me that way sometimes? I’ve noticed.”
Merlin swallowed, suddenly serious. “Arthur,” he said, warningly.
“Right,” Arthur chuckled, turning around so that they were face to face, only centimetres apart. “If I were to kiss you, right now, you wouldn’t like it?”
Merlin swallowed again, his eyes struggling to stay open. His heart suddenly beat so fast that they could both hear it. He tried for his old insolence.
“I don’t know what you’re on about, but I think it’s you who wants me,” he tried, pulling back from Arthur’s raking gaze. “Sire,” he added as an afterthought.
“Oh, really,” Arthur said mockingly, rolling his eyes. “I think not.”
Merlin bit the insides of his lips compulsively as Arthur bent forward suddenly. His eyes closed and he leant infinitely close to Merlin’s mouth, then hesitated.
“You sure?” Arthur whispered, hoarse, blinking up at Merlin. His eyes were so close. Merlin’s wrist twitched slightly, and Arthur collided into him. He hadn’t intended to use magic, Merlin told himself, as he kissed Arthur in earnest. His hand had done that on its own, the force of the spell knocking Arthur the half-centimeter closer. At any rate, Arthur was kissing back, and if Merlin didn’t know better, he would have said it seemed like the prince was enjoying it.
Merlin felt innocent for all of three minutes, unsure of what to do until he stopped thinking about it. Arthur gasped out loud against his mouth when Merlin deepened the kiss, grabbing Arthur’s neck and pulling him closer, until they stumbled to the wall. Merlin’s back slammed up against the stones as Arthur reached out an arm to brace them, still holding Merlin to him with the other hand. They broke apart.
“Ehm,” Merlin started. Arthur’s eyes darkened.
“Don’t speak, Merlin, you’ll just ruin it,” Arthur muttered, letting his hand drift down to the front of Merlin’s trousers and cup him gently through the scratchy wool. Merlin inhaled sharply and opened his mouth to retort. “I mean it,” Arthur growled, pushing his thigh between Merlin’s legs and grinding roughly.
“Yes, Sire,” Merlin uttered, earning himself a glare. He grinned insolently and tucked a warm hand up Arthur’s tunic, rubbing slowly across his chest. He could feel the sparse hair there prickle over hard muscles. “Gods, you’re fit,” he breathed.
“I’d no idea you noticed,” Arthur panted, trying to hide his arousal. His thigh moved mercilessly against Merlin’s.
“I-- I noticed,” stammered Merlin, eyes closing with pleasure.
“You can’t seriously be about to come already?” Arthur said, ever the charmer.
Merlin flushed. “Maybe I would be, if you weren’t such a huge prat about it,” he breathed. “Oh,” he murmured, as Arthur licked his palm and gripped his cock in earnest.
“Want to call me a prat again, servant?” Arthur asked dangerously, though Merlin could hear no malice behind it.
“Prat,” he bit out, and then Arthur’s mouth was on his again and his lungs couldn’t get enough air. “Wait,” he said, and knelt down. Arthur’s eyes glittered down at him, and he tangled a hand in Merlin’s hair.
“It’s-- good to see you know your place,” Arthur managed, throat tight. Merlin just tossed him another one of those insouciant grins and nuzzled his erection through his trousers.
“I’m not going to call you ‘sire,’” Merlin said, unlacing the front. One hand surreptitiously grabbed hold of his own cock as the other held Arthur’s. The prince stifled a moan.
“Whatever,” Arthur grit out, pushing Merlin’s head forward.