srin
in
mad_poetics
Pornathon, part 1
I put all seven pornathon entries into one post last year, and that ended up being kind of unwieldy, so I'll do them in two batches this time - the second one will be tomorrow, probably.
All of these are NC-17 and 740-750 words.
Challenge 1: Sex toys
Elena/Vivian, Arthur/Merlin
Playing Around
“What is that?” Vivian asked, wrinkling her nose.
“It’s a sex toy!” Elena proclaimed. “You agreed that we could try some new things, remember?”
“I distinctly recall saying no food.”
“This isn’t!”
Vivian eyed her with extreme scepticism.
“It’s not! It’s a dildo shaped as a cucumber, not a real cucumber!”
“No.”
Elena pouted; Vivian rolled her eyes, took off her shirt, and the dildo was quickly forgotten.
~
“Elena, my darling, what in hell are they doing in our bedroom?”
“I’m not sure myself,” Merlin admitted. “Elena told us you needed our help?”
Arthur groaned, and buried his face against Merlin’s neck.
“Remember when you said-” Elena began.
“Merlin and Arthur are not sex toys! Arthur may have roughly the same wit and intelligence as a blob of silicon, but…”
Arthur detached his mouth from Merlin’s throat to object; Merlin kissed him swiftly on the lips, then grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the door while he was still too dazed to make a fuss.
“Wait,” Vivian called, digging into the bedside drawer. “Take this with you. The sight of it offends me.”
She handed Merlin the cucumber dildo. Merlin blinked at it.
“Well, this brings back memories,” he said.
“Teenage experimentation?” Arthur asked, smiling at him fondly.
Merlin laughed.
“Nope. Gwaine, on that beach holiday after we finished uni. He forgot to pack his toys, and the tiny little town really only had a post office and a grocer, so…”
“I would not put it past Gwaine to find some obscene use for postage stamps,” Arthur muttered.
“Well, I didn’t say we only went to the grocer,” Merlin said, and did something strange with his eyebrows which Arthur, judging by the sudden tightness of his jeans, found extremely sexy.
“Out!” Vivian shouted. “I don’t wish to know anything more about you and your phallic objects or your phalluses or anything of the sort!”
~
“What are - where did you even find a tiny plastic Arthur and Merlin?” Vivian demanded, sounding more perplexed than affronted this time.
“Crazy Gary’s shop, between the inflatable Daleks and those horrible sparkly vampires.”
“…Is there one of me?”
“Afraid not, love. You know Gary, he’s all about the boys fucking. I asked if he had any toys that would be good in bed and he pointed right to these.”
“I am not having sex with an action figure. Especially not one of Arthur.”
“No, I didn’t think you’d care for them, that’s why I got these,” Elena said.
She dropped the figures in the bedside drawer, then reached into her bag and held up a pink feather boa, a plastic tiara, and a purple vibrator with rhinestones set around the base. Vivian’s eyes lit up with glee, little plastic boys forgotten.
They undressed one another, then Elena crowned Vivian and wrapped her in the boa. Vivian maintained a very serious and regal expression - right up until the feathers tickled her naked skin, at which point she dissolved into giggles and tackled Elena to the bed.
“Now, is that any way for a princess to behave?” Elena teased.
“Hush, you, a princess may behave however she likes,” Vivian proclaimed, and kissed Elena, at first very sweetly and then in a manner that was thoroughly unladylike indeed. Elena wrapped her arms around Vivian and let herself enjoy for the moment: Vivian’s kisses, the press of her breasts against Elena’s, the slight weight of her. Eventually Elena let her hands drift lower, down Vivian’s back, over her bum, to her thighs, so she could gradually tug her upwards. Vivian shifted easily - she tended to be more accommodating with Elena’s tongue in her mouth - and when she could reach, Elena slipped her hand between Vivian’s legs.
Vivian squeaked and then sighed, going soft and boneless as soon as Elena slid a finger inside her. All according to plan; next came the tricky part… With her free hand, Elena groped around the bed for the vibrator, then carefully, carefully manoeuvred it into place against Vivian’s clit, hoping Vivian would be too distracted to notice that it wasn’t Elena’s hand there. She tilted her head to kiss Vivian’s nose, grinned broadly, and pressed the on button.
Elena wasn’t disappointed: Vivian made a stunned noise of absolute delight, and clung tightly to Elena’s body.
“Oh, you are good,” Vivian murmured, and went for another kiss.
(Neither of them noticed the miniature grunts and moans coming from the drawer later that night, which was probably for the best, really.)
Challenge 2: Kink grab-bag, in this case multiple partners and cleaning/washing. (Also includes a reference to tentacles.)
Arthur/Gwaine/Merlin
(This entry placed in the challenge!)
Necessary Accommodations
Merlin woke, as usual on this quest, to loud arguing.
“-my fault! You threw a sword at it!”
“Wouldn’t have needed to if you hadn’t provoked it!”
“I was trying to negotiate! I realize you’re unacquainted with the concept but - stop, you just hold him up, bet you’ve never washed a thing in your life-”
The sensations of wetness, slime, and hands all over him were rather less familiar.
“Mmnnf?” Merlin said.
“Merlin?”
“Wha’ happened?”
“Tentacle creature,” said Gwaine. “Tried to have its way with you. Exploded when Arthur-”
“-Rescued you, and lost my second-best sword for my trouble. Keep still, we’re trying to clean you off.”
Merlin opened his eyes and found himself in the middle of a placid river, naked, and coated in bright purple goop everywhere his clothes normally weren’t. Arthur was holding him up from behind, while Gwaine wiped at his neck with a scrap of Arthur’s shirt. Which Arthur wasn’t wearing. Gwaine wasn’t wearing a shirt either. Gwaine was biting his lip, concentrating intently on his task, the little drops of water all over him glimmering in the sun. Arthur’s arms were wrapped snug around Merlin’s torso, his body warm and solid along Merlin’s back, his breathing a little strained. Merlin promptly concluded that he was either dreaming or hallucinating, and either way, he might as well enjoy it.
“Merlin?” Arthur prompted, when Merlin failed to speak.
“Mm? Sure, okay, carry on,” Merlin said, distracted by his pleasure.
“Does anything hurt? Do you think you can stand on your own?”
“Nah. Probably could, don’t wanna.”
Gwaine snickered. Arthur snorted, but didn’t let go. His thumb kept rubbing at Merlin’s skin, absent-mindedly gentle.
Arthur’s firm embrace conspired with Gwaine’s tender ministrations to rapidly stiffen Merlin’s cock; Merlin couldn’t drum up much embarrassment. The water was pleasant enough, and Arthur’s and Gwaine’s closeness and clear concern - and, frankly, their wet naked hotness - were simply too much to resist. (He wasn’t alone in being affected, either, judging by hardness pressing against his backside.)
Gwaine cleaned Merlin’s neck, hands, and face, dallying a little near his lips, then Arthur adjusted his hold so Gwaine could rinse Merlin’s hair.
“There, all done,” Gwaine proclaimed finally, though one hand lingered on Merlin’s chest. “Your clothes were a lost cause, I’m afraid.”
“Mm, whatever,” Merlin said. He turned to nuzzle against Arthur, which elicited a delightfully strangled sound.
“Merlin-” Arthur began.
“Shush, my dream, can do what I want.”
“This isn’t a dream!” Arthur protested.
“Sure it is, you’re never this nice to me.”
“He’s got a point,” Gwaine said.
“Shut it, you aren’t helping,” Arthur snapped. “Merlin, you aren’t dreaming, you’re just - wet, and naked, and, um-”
“Can we pretend I’m dreaming?” Merlin asked before he could stop himself. He tilted his head to meet Arthur’s wide-eyed gaze, half expecting Arthur to shove him away, but instead Arthur muttered,
“Oh, to hell with it,” and kissed him. (No matter if this was a hallucination or a flimsy pretext, Merlin decided, it was fantastic.)
“Suppose I’ll leave you two to it, then,” Gwaine sighed, but Merlin grabbed his hand before he could remove it. Gwaine stopped, his gaze questioning.
“You could stay,” Merlin said, reckless in his excitement. “If Arthur doesn’t-”
“It’s your dream,” Arthur said quickly, sounding like a man who had been given a brilliant excuse and wasn’t about to let go of it.
“Can’t deny a man his dream,” Gwaine said, grinning, and let Merlin reel him in for a kiss.
Arthur stayed behind Merlin, holding him close and mouthing at his throat; Gwaine kept some distance between their bodies at first, but when Merlin’s tongue touched his, he groaned and pressed himself to Merlin’s front. He was hard too, and just as warm as Arthur, and soon Merlin lost track of whose roaming hands were where, which hot mouth was on his, whose arms or hips or cock he was stroking.
After a brief hesitation, Arthur kissed Gwaine, too, and then they were both rutting against Merlin, Gwaine moaning and Arthur’s hands trembling as he clutched Merlin’s waist, and Merlin desperately, gorgeously happy between them.
Later, when they were spent and dry, and dressed in whatever clothes remained intact, things threatened to get awkward. Gwaine radiated uncertainty; Arthur was retreating into defensive gruffness. Merlin wasn’t having any of it.
“I expect that’ll be a recurring dream,” he announced in a leading tone.
This time, no one was inclined to argue.
Challenge 3: AU, non-magical
Arthur/Merlin
(There's a sequel/expansion/something for this piece in the works.)
Legend (Love) and Empire
Arthur hates this land. He’s lived his entire life here, trapped behind defensive walls for fear of attack, never even seen another corner of the empire but he hates this one. The glorious civilization his tutor extols to him is so distant it may as well be myth, and the local company leaves much to be desired: Arthur’s too old to spend his time with women, too well-born to be friendly with peasants, too jealous of the soldiers who’ve campaigned in places Arthur’s only seen on maps. His father grew up in the centre of the world and claims this command is some great honour; Arthur sees nothing but exile from a home he’s never known.
*
The man Arthur gets to arguing with in the market is a native. He must be one of the civilized ones, otherwise he wouldn’t walk free in the town or know Arthur’s language, but he’s dressed like the savages and native words roll off his tongue like water when he converses with his companion, Father’s friend Gaius. Arthur doesn’t remember, later, what sparked their disagreement, but he remembers that the man was unimpressed with the empire, and more importantly, how his eyes gleamed when he laughed.
His name is Merlin. He is unlike Arthur in every way, and he’s the first man to speak to Arthur as an equal.
When the light fades, Merlin grins and asks Arthur if he’d care to continue their discussion tomorrow. Embarrassed by his own eagerness, Arthur says yes.
*
Merlin’s several years Arthur’s senior, and he loves this land. He has civilized friends and savage ones and speaks fondly of the south, where there are not so many walls between the two. He covers Arthur with a cloak, hands sure and gentle as he arranges the material, and takes him outside the town, shows him forests and streams and standing stones more ancient, Merlin says, than the oldest cities in the empire.
Arthur stares, awed, and does not notice how close Merlin’s come until Merlin rests his hands on Arthur’s shoulders. Arthur turns, then, and it seems only natural to press his mouth to Merlin’s, to share his joy with lips and shaking breaths. Merlin shudders against him and clutches him close, and Arthur forgets to long for distant places.
*
One day among those same stones, Merlin whispers stories in Arthur’s ear. He tells of gods, men, and bawdy things, and reaches between Arthur’s legs, his voice and nimble fingers making Arthur hard and hot and desperate in Merlin’s arms. Arthur knows no equal art to bring Merlin to his pleasure, but his mouth, sloppy and earnest where Merlin’s sensitive, suffices well enough.
*
When Merlin says, “I must go south,” Arthur doesn’t hesitate to answer,
“I’ll come with you.”
“Your father-”
“-Will be furious, but he’s away inspecting another outpost. I’ll leave word with Gaius, so he doesn’t think you lot have kidnapped me.”
Merlin laughs, musses Arthur’s hair, and then covers Arthur’s body with his.
A week later they ride out together. Arthur’s exhilarated and terrified; Merlin calms him with jokes and soft smiles, and with fervent kisses when they stop to water the horses.
*
They travel for months. By day Arthur learns the unfamiliar country, the languages he never bothered with before, the people who know Merlin, respect him, and greet him warmly. By night, Arthur learns all the secrets of Merlin’s body, and shares his own.
One summer evening Arthur opens himself for Merlin with trembling fingers, nervous but determined to have this. Merlin fills him carefully, looking as overwhelmed as Arthur feels, and as they move together he pledges his love with words Arthur didn’t understand before they met.
Arthur complains loudly of the ache in the morning; Merlin teases, soothes the tender place with his tongue, and then takes Arthur inside himself. They lose the day in one another, and regret nothing.
*
Years pass. There’s talk of withdrawing the army, sending it to meet invading barbarians elsewhere in the empire, nevermind those becoming ever bolder here.
In his youth Arthur would have been ecstatic at the prospect of leaving. But now all he can think of is Merlin losing his home and friends, Merlin’s eyes wet with tears as his dear land falls. Merlin all alone, as Arthur once was.
*
When the last legion marches out of Britannia, Arthur stands hand in hand with Merlin, their backs to Rome and eyes on their future.
Challenge 4: First/last times
Sophia/Vivian
A Gay Old Time
Vivian’s dad is more than a little overprotective. He absolutely flips his shit at the mere thought of Vivian going out anywhere she might pick up boys. Or boys might try to pick her up. Or look at her with lust in their eyes, Vivian, lust! And so on.
Which means her social life is pretty limited. She’s starting uni in the autumn (which makes Daddy’s face twitch, the tick simultaneously worrying and hilarious) and things’ll be better then, but for the rest of the summer she’s still, for all intents and purposes, a princess locked in a tower. Unfortunately her hair isn’t quite up to the task of serving as a means of ingress for fun.
Then, one week, Gwen and Morgana invite her along for ladies’ night at Avalon. Which is really sort of brilliant, because Daddy can’t come up with a reason to object to gay clubbing. The boys obviously won’t be a danger, (he hasn’t worked out yet that bisexuality exists,) and it doesn’t occur to him to be concerned about the girls. (He needn’t know that Vivian would rather girls be the ones looking at her with lust in their eyes, anyway.)
Vivian’s not sure why Gwen and Morgana bother going out, honestly, they’re only going to snog in a corner all night, but she’s not complaining. It’s her first time at Avalon, so it’s nice to have company going in, and Morgana’s great at sorting out the bouncer who questions the validity of their IDs. (She got less grief when it was a fake; this is just silly.)
Around the third brightly-coloured cocktail, (and the fourth time they’ve played that one Gaga song,) Vivian spots Sophia. She only really knows two things about Sophia: her father’s in the foreign service or something so she’s spent most of her life outside Britain, and she once shoved Arthur in a lake when he was drunk. (Which could have been bad, but Merlin saved him, gave him mouth-to-mouth, and they basically haven’t stopped giving each other not-so-medically-appropriate mouth-to-mouth since then. So it was fine, really.)
Oh, and Sophia’s smoking hot.
She seems to be alone, tonight. She’s wearing a clingy little velvet dress and swaying to the terrible music in a way that’s rather mesmerizing, and Vivian’s never been one for taking it slow, so she quickly finishes her drink and heads over.
“Mind if I join you?” she asks. Sophia looks her over, gaze serious, then gives a slow smile (there’s definitely lust in her eyes) and tugs Vivian in close by the hips.
They dance for a good while, the space between their bodies growing smaller and smaller until they’re pressed entirely together, Vivian’s fingers roaming over the plush fabric of Sophia’s dress and Sophia’s hands very nearly on Vivian’s bum. (Daddy would be horrified; Vivian’s delighted.) Sophia kisses Vivian’s neck, then her jaw, then her cheek, but pauses just short of her lips.
“Don’t stop there,” Vivian protests. Sophia grins at her.
“Kiss me,” she says; Vivian can hear the tease in her tone even over the pounding music.
So Vivian does. She’s had practice enough thanks to Morgana’s “perfectly innocent” sleepovers and she knows she’s good, but it’s still gratifying to feel the hitch in Sophia’s breathing and the way she melts against Vivian’s body when their tongues meet. Sophia takes the initiative then, backing Vivian into a corner and grinding against her, the movement too focussed and intense now to pass for anything to do with the music. Vivian gropes Sophia through her velvet; Sophia slips one hand up Vivian’s shirt to palm her breast and thumb her nipple.
Even in the dim light, they’re a little too exposed for the way this is going, so they move things to the toilets.
The instant the stall door is bolted behind them, Sophia tugs Vivian’s shirt off, unclips her bra, (thankfully hangs both on the purse hook - toilet floors are disgusting, no matter how aroused one is) and immediately starts sucking Vivian’s nipple. Then she slides a hand up Vivian’s skirt, reaching past her already-damp knickers, and then Vivian’s biting her knuckles to muffle her noises and losing track of everything but how fantastic it feels.
Afterwards, Sophia catches her before she can slump to the filthy floor, and says, “My father’s out of town. Come home with me.”
Vivian only hesitates long enough to remember she’d told Daddy she’ll be staying at Gwen’s tonight. Brilliant.
All of these are NC-17 and 740-750 words.
Challenge 1: Sex toys
Elena/Vivian, Arthur/Merlin
Playing Around
“What is that?” Vivian asked, wrinkling her nose.
“It’s a sex toy!” Elena proclaimed. “You agreed that we could try some new things, remember?”
“I distinctly recall saying no food.”
“This isn’t!”
Vivian eyed her with extreme scepticism.
“It’s not! It’s a dildo shaped as a cucumber, not a real cucumber!”
“No.”
Elena pouted; Vivian rolled her eyes, took off her shirt, and the dildo was quickly forgotten.
~
“Elena, my darling, what in hell are they doing in our bedroom?”
“I’m not sure myself,” Merlin admitted. “Elena told us you needed our help?”
Arthur groaned, and buried his face against Merlin’s neck.
“Remember when you said-” Elena began.
“Merlin and Arthur are not sex toys! Arthur may have roughly the same wit and intelligence as a blob of silicon, but…”
Arthur detached his mouth from Merlin’s throat to object; Merlin kissed him swiftly on the lips, then grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the door while he was still too dazed to make a fuss.
“Wait,” Vivian called, digging into the bedside drawer. “Take this with you. The sight of it offends me.”
She handed Merlin the cucumber dildo. Merlin blinked at it.
“Well, this brings back memories,” he said.
“Teenage experimentation?” Arthur asked, smiling at him fondly.
Merlin laughed.
“Nope. Gwaine, on that beach holiday after we finished uni. He forgot to pack his toys, and the tiny little town really only had a post office and a grocer, so…”
“I would not put it past Gwaine to find some obscene use for postage stamps,” Arthur muttered.
“Well, I didn’t say we only went to the grocer,” Merlin said, and did something strange with his eyebrows which Arthur, judging by the sudden tightness of his jeans, found extremely sexy.
“Out!” Vivian shouted. “I don’t wish to know anything more about you and your phallic objects or your phalluses or anything of the sort!”
~
“What are - where did you even find a tiny plastic Arthur and Merlin?” Vivian demanded, sounding more perplexed than affronted this time.
“Crazy Gary’s shop, between the inflatable Daleks and those horrible sparkly vampires.”
“…Is there one of me?”
“Afraid not, love. You know Gary, he’s all about the boys fucking. I asked if he had any toys that would be good in bed and he pointed right to these.”
“I am not having sex with an action figure. Especially not one of Arthur.”
“No, I didn’t think you’d care for them, that’s why I got these,” Elena said.
She dropped the figures in the bedside drawer, then reached into her bag and held up a pink feather boa, a plastic tiara, and a purple vibrator with rhinestones set around the base. Vivian’s eyes lit up with glee, little plastic boys forgotten.
They undressed one another, then Elena crowned Vivian and wrapped her in the boa. Vivian maintained a very serious and regal expression - right up until the feathers tickled her naked skin, at which point she dissolved into giggles and tackled Elena to the bed.
“Now, is that any way for a princess to behave?” Elena teased.
“Hush, you, a princess may behave however she likes,” Vivian proclaimed, and kissed Elena, at first very sweetly and then in a manner that was thoroughly unladylike indeed. Elena wrapped her arms around Vivian and let herself enjoy for the moment: Vivian’s kisses, the press of her breasts against Elena’s, the slight weight of her. Eventually Elena let her hands drift lower, down Vivian’s back, over her bum, to her thighs, so she could gradually tug her upwards. Vivian shifted easily - she tended to be more accommodating with Elena’s tongue in her mouth - and when she could reach, Elena slipped her hand between Vivian’s legs.
Vivian squeaked and then sighed, going soft and boneless as soon as Elena slid a finger inside her. All according to plan; next came the tricky part… With her free hand, Elena groped around the bed for the vibrator, then carefully, carefully manoeuvred it into place against Vivian’s clit, hoping Vivian would be too distracted to notice that it wasn’t Elena’s hand there. She tilted her head to kiss Vivian’s nose, grinned broadly, and pressed the on button.
Elena wasn’t disappointed: Vivian made a stunned noise of absolute delight, and clung tightly to Elena’s body.
“Oh, you are good,” Vivian murmured, and went for another kiss.
(Neither of them noticed the miniature grunts and moans coming from the drawer later that night, which was probably for the best, really.)
Challenge 2: Kink grab-bag, in this case multiple partners and cleaning/washing. (Also includes a reference to tentacles.)
Arthur/Gwaine/Merlin
(This entry placed in the challenge!)
Necessary Accommodations
Merlin woke, as usual on this quest, to loud arguing.
“-my fault! You threw a sword at it!”
“Wouldn’t have needed to if you hadn’t provoked it!”
“I was trying to negotiate! I realize you’re unacquainted with the concept but - stop, you just hold him up, bet you’ve never washed a thing in your life-”
The sensations of wetness, slime, and hands all over him were rather less familiar.
“Mmnnf?” Merlin said.
“Merlin?”
“Wha’ happened?”
“Tentacle creature,” said Gwaine. “Tried to have its way with you. Exploded when Arthur-”
“-Rescued you, and lost my second-best sword for my trouble. Keep still, we’re trying to clean you off.”
Merlin opened his eyes and found himself in the middle of a placid river, naked, and coated in bright purple goop everywhere his clothes normally weren’t. Arthur was holding him up from behind, while Gwaine wiped at his neck with a scrap of Arthur’s shirt. Which Arthur wasn’t wearing. Gwaine wasn’t wearing a shirt either. Gwaine was biting his lip, concentrating intently on his task, the little drops of water all over him glimmering in the sun. Arthur’s arms were wrapped snug around Merlin’s torso, his body warm and solid along Merlin’s back, his breathing a little strained. Merlin promptly concluded that he was either dreaming or hallucinating, and either way, he might as well enjoy it.
“Merlin?” Arthur prompted, when Merlin failed to speak.
“Mm? Sure, okay, carry on,” Merlin said, distracted by his pleasure.
“Does anything hurt? Do you think you can stand on your own?”
“Nah. Probably could, don’t wanna.”
Gwaine snickered. Arthur snorted, but didn’t let go. His thumb kept rubbing at Merlin’s skin, absent-mindedly gentle.
Arthur’s firm embrace conspired with Gwaine’s tender ministrations to rapidly stiffen Merlin’s cock; Merlin couldn’t drum up much embarrassment. The water was pleasant enough, and Arthur’s and Gwaine’s closeness and clear concern - and, frankly, their wet naked hotness - were simply too much to resist. (He wasn’t alone in being affected, either, judging by hardness pressing against his backside.)
Gwaine cleaned Merlin’s neck, hands, and face, dallying a little near his lips, then Arthur adjusted his hold so Gwaine could rinse Merlin’s hair.
“There, all done,” Gwaine proclaimed finally, though one hand lingered on Merlin’s chest. “Your clothes were a lost cause, I’m afraid.”
“Mm, whatever,” Merlin said. He turned to nuzzle against Arthur, which elicited a delightfully strangled sound.
“Merlin-” Arthur began.
“Shush, my dream, can do what I want.”
“This isn’t a dream!” Arthur protested.
“Sure it is, you’re never this nice to me.”
“He’s got a point,” Gwaine said.
“Shut it, you aren’t helping,” Arthur snapped. “Merlin, you aren’t dreaming, you’re just - wet, and naked, and, um-”
“Can we pretend I’m dreaming?” Merlin asked before he could stop himself. He tilted his head to meet Arthur’s wide-eyed gaze, half expecting Arthur to shove him away, but instead Arthur muttered,
“Oh, to hell with it,” and kissed him. (No matter if this was a hallucination or a flimsy pretext, Merlin decided, it was fantastic.)
“Suppose I’ll leave you two to it, then,” Gwaine sighed, but Merlin grabbed his hand before he could remove it. Gwaine stopped, his gaze questioning.
“You could stay,” Merlin said, reckless in his excitement. “If Arthur doesn’t-”
“It’s your dream,” Arthur said quickly, sounding like a man who had been given a brilliant excuse and wasn’t about to let go of it.
“Can’t deny a man his dream,” Gwaine said, grinning, and let Merlin reel him in for a kiss.
Arthur stayed behind Merlin, holding him close and mouthing at his throat; Gwaine kept some distance between their bodies at first, but when Merlin’s tongue touched his, he groaned and pressed himself to Merlin’s front. He was hard too, and just as warm as Arthur, and soon Merlin lost track of whose roaming hands were where, which hot mouth was on his, whose arms or hips or cock he was stroking.
After a brief hesitation, Arthur kissed Gwaine, too, and then they were both rutting against Merlin, Gwaine moaning and Arthur’s hands trembling as he clutched Merlin’s waist, and Merlin desperately, gorgeously happy between them.
Later, when they were spent and dry, and dressed in whatever clothes remained intact, things threatened to get awkward. Gwaine radiated uncertainty; Arthur was retreating into defensive gruffness. Merlin wasn’t having any of it.
“I expect that’ll be a recurring dream,” he announced in a leading tone.
This time, no one was inclined to argue.
Challenge 3: AU, non-magical
Arthur/Merlin
(There's a sequel/expansion/something for this piece in the works.)
Legend (Love) and Empire
Arthur hates this land. He’s lived his entire life here, trapped behind defensive walls for fear of attack, never even seen another corner of the empire but he hates this one. The glorious civilization his tutor extols to him is so distant it may as well be myth, and the local company leaves much to be desired: Arthur’s too old to spend his time with women, too well-born to be friendly with peasants, too jealous of the soldiers who’ve campaigned in places Arthur’s only seen on maps. His father grew up in the centre of the world and claims this command is some great honour; Arthur sees nothing but exile from a home he’s never known.
*
The man Arthur gets to arguing with in the market is a native. He must be one of the civilized ones, otherwise he wouldn’t walk free in the town or know Arthur’s language, but he’s dressed like the savages and native words roll off his tongue like water when he converses with his companion, Father’s friend Gaius. Arthur doesn’t remember, later, what sparked their disagreement, but he remembers that the man was unimpressed with the empire, and more importantly, how his eyes gleamed when he laughed.
His name is Merlin. He is unlike Arthur in every way, and he’s the first man to speak to Arthur as an equal.
When the light fades, Merlin grins and asks Arthur if he’d care to continue their discussion tomorrow. Embarrassed by his own eagerness, Arthur says yes.
*
Merlin’s several years Arthur’s senior, and he loves this land. He has civilized friends and savage ones and speaks fondly of the south, where there are not so many walls between the two. He covers Arthur with a cloak, hands sure and gentle as he arranges the material, and takes him outside the town, shows him forests and streams and standing stones more ancient, Merlin says, than the oldest cities in the empire.
Arthur stares, awed, and does not notice how close Merlin’s come until Merlin rests his hands on Arthur’s shoulders. Arthur turns, then, and it seems only natural to press his mouth to Merlin’s, to share his joy with lips and shaking breaths. Merlin shudders against him and clutches him close, and Arthur forgets to long for distant places.
*
One day among those same stones, Merlin whispers stories in Arthur’s ear. He tells of gods, men, and bawdy things, and reaches between Arthur’s legs, his voice and nimble fingers making Arthur hard and hot and desperate in Merlin’s arms. Arthur knows no equal art to bring Merlin to his pleasure, but his mouth, sloppy and earnest where Merlin’s sensitive, suffices well enough.
*
When Merlin says, “I must go south,” Arthur doesn’t hesitate to answer,
“I’ll come with you.”
“Your father-”
“-Will be furious, but he’s away inspecting another outpost. I’ll leave word with Gaius, so he doesn’t think you lot have kidnapped me.”
Merlin laughs, musses Arthur’s hair, and then covers Arthur’s body with his.
A week later they ride out together. Arthur’s exhilarated and terrified; Merlin calms him with jokes and soft smiles, and with fervent kisses when they stop to water the horses.
*
They travel for months. By day Arthur learns the unfamiliar country, the languages he never bothered with before, the people who know Merlin, respect him, and greet him warmly. By night, Arthur learns all the secrets of Merlin’s body, and shares his own.
One summer evening Arthur opens himself for Merlin with trembling fingers, nervous but determined to have this. Merlin fills him carefully, looking as overwhelmed as Arthur feels, and as they move together he pledges his love with words Arthur didn’t understand before they met.
Arthur complains loudly of the ache in the morning; Merlin teases, soothes the tender place with his tongue, and then takes Arthur inside himself. They lose the day in one another, and regret nothing.
*
Years pass. There’s talk of withdrawing the army, sending it to meet invading barbarians elsewhere in the empire, nevermind those becoming ever bolder here.
In his youth Arthur would have been ecstatic at the prospect of leaving. But now all he can think of is Merlin losing his home and friends, Merlin’s eyes wet with tears as his dear land falls. Merlin all alone, as Arthur once was.
*
When the last legion marches out of Britannia, Arthur stands hand in hand with Merlin, their backs to Rome and eyes on their future.
Challenge 4: First/last times
Sophia/Vivian
A Gay Old Time
Vivian’s dad is more than a little overprotective. He absolutely flips his shit at the mere thought of Vivian going out anywhere she might pick up boys. Or boys might try to pick her up. Or look at her with lust in their eyes, Vivian, lust! And so on.
Which means her social life is pretty limited. She’s starting uni in the autumn (which makes Daddy’s face twitch, the tick simultaneously worrying and hilarious) and things’ll be better then, but for the rest of the summer she’s still, for all intents and purposes, a princess locked in a tower. Unfortunately her hair isn’t quite up to the task of serving as a means of ingress for fun.
Then, one week, Gwen and Morgana invite her along for ladies’ night at Avalon. Which is really sort of brilliant, because Daddy can’t come up with a reason to object to gay clubbing. The boys obviously won’t be a danger, (he hasn’t worked out yet that bisexuality exists,) and it doesn’t occur to him to be concerned about the girls. (He needn’t know that Vivian would rather girls be the ones looking at her with lust in their eyes, anyway.)
Vivian’s not sure why Gwen and Morgana bother going out, honestly, they’re only going to snog in a corner all night, but she’s not complaining. It’s her first time at Avalon, so it’s nice to have company going in, and Morgana’s great at sorting out the bouncer who questions the validity of their IDs. (She got less grief when it was a fake; this is just silly.)
Around the third brightly-coloured cocktail, (and the fourth time they’ve played that one Gaga song,) Vivian spots Sophia. She only really knows two things about Sophia: her father’s in the foreign service or something so she’s spent most of her life outside Britain, and she once shoved Arthur in a lake when he was drunk. (Which could have been bad, but Merlin saved him, gave him mouth-to-mouth, and they basically haven’t stopped giving each other not-so-medically-appropriate mouth-to-mouth since then. So it was fine, really.)
Oh, and Sophia’s smoking hot.
She seems to be alone, tonight. She’s wearing a clingy little velvet dress and swaying to the terrible music in a way that’s rather mesmerizing, and Vivian’s never been one for taking it slow, so she quickly finishes her drink and heads over.
“Mind if I join you?” she asks. Sophia looks her over, gaze serious, then gives a slow smile (there’s definitely lust in her eyes) and tugs Vivian in close by the hips.
They dance for a good while, the space between their bodies growing smaller and smaller until they’re pressed entirely together, Vivian’s fingers roaming over the plush fabric of Sophia’s dress and Sophia’s hands very nearly on Vivian’s bum. (Daddy would be horrified; Vivian’s delighted.) Sophia kisses Vivian’s neck, then her jaw, then her cheek, but pauses just short of her lips.
“Don’t stop there,” Vivian protests. Sophia grins at her.
“Kiss me,” she says; Vivian can hear the tease in her tone even over the pounding music.
So Vivian does. She’s had practice enough thanks to Morgana’s “perfectly innocent” sleepovers and she knows she’s good, but it’s still gratifying to feel the hitch in Sophia’s breathing and the way she melts against Vivian’s body when their tongues meet. Sophia takes the initiative then, backing Vivian into a corner and grinding against her, the movement too focussed and intense now to pass for anything to do with the music. Vivian gropes Sophia through her velvet; Sophia slips one hand up Vivian’s shirt to palm her breast and thumb her nipple.
Even in the dim light, they’re a little too exposed for the way this is going, so they move things to the toilets.
The instant the stall door is bolted behind them, Sophia tugs Vivian’s shirt off, unclips her bra, (thankfully hangs both on the purse hook - toilet floors are disgusting, no matter how aroused one is) and immediately starts sucking Vivian’s nipple. Then she slides a hand up Vivian’s skirt, reaching past her already-damp knickers, and then Vivian’s biting her knuckles to muffle her noises and losing track of everything but how fantastic it feels.
Afterwards, Sophia catches her before she can slump to the filthy floor, and says, “My father’s out of town. Come home with me.”
Vivian only hesitates long enough to remember she’d told Daddy she’ll be staying at Gwen’s tonight. Brilliant.