Fic: Secret Harmonies
Title: Secret Harmonies
Pairing: Merlin/Percival; Merlin/Leon; Merlin/Elyan; Merlin/Gwaine
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~2900
Summary: Arthur doesn't understand what all the knights see in his manservant.
Notes: Written as sort of a gift for janesgravity for putting up with my damage. Thank you! Title from Queen's A Kind of Magic.
Arthur
It was late evening, the sun setting amongst the trees of the forest, and Arthur was just scraping the last bit of filling but bland stew out of his bowl. Merlin certainly didn’t have a future as a cook. Arthur wasn’t sure why he let him cook for the knights at all, if he was being honest. Even Percival could probably do a better job, and the one time he’d made them breakfast, the porridge was so sticky they’d had to throw away the pot. Arthur opened his mouth to say something to that effect, but he was stopped when he saw the other knights going over to Merlin one by one, clapping their hands on his shoulder before piling their empty bowls in front of him.
“Delicious, Merlin!”
“Just great, perfect meal.”
“Thanks, Merlin, we really do appreciate it.”
Merlin beamed up at them, Gwaine, Elyan and Percival in succession, and Arthur found himself staring in silence. His jaw must have been hanging open a little, because Leon paused on front of him, a slight look of concern wrinkling his brow.
“Are you alright, sire?” He reached out and took Arthur’s bowl from him, stacking it with his own.
“What? Oh, yes, yes I’m fine. Thank you.” He nodded distractedly up at him, and watched as even Leon strode purposefully over to Merlin and complimented him, squeezing his shoulder. Merlin looked up at Leon with twinkling eyes and a crooked smile, and Arthur wondered if his bowl had been filled with something different than his knights had eaten, despite seeing it all come from the same bubbling pot. He could come up with no other explanation for the knights undeserved praise of his dim manservant’s cooking, which was passable at best. Either that, or his knights were mad and lacking taste buds.
Percival
Percival groaned as Merlin dug his fingers hard into the broad span of Percival’s back, his thin frame arching perfectly as Percival moved slickly inside him. The small bed creaked underneath them as Merlin rocked in Percival’s lap, a gorgeous flush spreading over his chest as he panted, lips parted invitingly. Merlin’s body fit in Percival’s arms like he was made for it, and Percival ran his hands over Merlin’s back, a groan spilling from his lips when he he felt how his hands easily covered the span of Merlin’s narrow frame.
Merlin answered with a moan of his own, pressing himself impossibly closer, wrapping his long legs around Percival’s waist. He pushed down, Percival as deep in Merlin’s body as he could be, and then a little deeper, Merlin shaking with need and exertion. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Percival’s ear, and Percival tightened his grip on Merlin until his fingers ached with it. Merlin’s voice was filthy and wonderful as he whispered words like big and safe and more, and Percival’s head spun with it, with the way Merlin always knew just what to say, what to do, confident in a way people would be surprised to see. Percival let out a strangled groan, his hips pushing up hard enough into Merlin’s welcoming body that he thought he might buck Merlin off.
Percival hoped he never got used to the way Merlin felt in his arms, the way that he gave himself fully when Percival wrapped his arms tight around Merlin and rolled them over until Merlin was nearly crushed under Percival’s weight. The soft, pleading sounds Merlin made when he was close, the sweet way Percival’s name spilled from his lips as his seed spilled from his body. Most of all, he hoped he never got used to the easy way Merlin let himself be pulled close to Percival’s chest when it was all over, the sated smile on his drowsy face when Percival covered him so completely with his own body there was no need for a blanket even in the chill of winter. Percival was always struck with how young Merlin looked when he slept, his face gone smooth and easy, any hard edges from the day blended away. Just before he drifted off himself, Percival couldn’t help but trace his fingers softly over Merlin’s face, vowing to protect him always, no matter what it took.
Leon
It was dark inside the tent, just the barest light from the crackling fire outside filtering through through the door. Most of the knights were still awake, and their voices and laughter rose above the sound of the fire and mixed with the quiet night. Inside the tent, Leon spoke softly, his lips pressed as close to Merlin’s ear as their bodies were together. He ran his hands over Merlin’s warm skin, fingers pausing whenever he found the rough skin of a scar, tracing the edges of the familiar marks. They spoke of all the things they couldn’t or wouldn’t share with the other knights, the things that could only be shared between the King’s first knight and his most trusted servant.
When they fell silent, Leon’s hands grew more insistent, moving to feather down Merlin’s chest, flicking over his nipples, leaning in to catch the shaky moan that fell from Merlin’s lips with his own. They groaned together when Leon’s strong, rough hand wrapped around their cocks, callouses catching deliciously on the dry skin. Merlin moved sinuously against Leon, graceful in a way that not everyone got to see. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Leon’s neck, wet, open-mouthed kisses making Leon’s hand stutter on their cocks and his breathe huff out in a wavery gasp.
Leon came with a soft moan, a weight lifting off his chest as his cock spilled over his hand. Merlin kissed him through it, dropping his own hand to twine their fingers together, stroking until his release joined Leon’s, a rapidly cooling mess between their bodies. Leon’s cheeks flushed scarlet as they always did in the aftermath, and as always, Merlin leaned in with a grin and kissed away the flush, cleaning them up with a damp cloth he’d handily left beside the bedroll. He curled up, linking his fingers with Leon’s and tugging until he curled his own body around Merlin’s, burying his face into the damp hair at the nape of Merlin’s neck. There were more nights than Leon cared to admit that he didn’t sleep, staring wide-eyed and worried for the fate of his home and his king, his mind racing so fast he couldn’t keep up. He’d tried every remedy Gaius could brew, and drank everything the innkeepers could pour, but nothing worked. Nothing worked, except Merlin’s steady breathing, warm body, and fingers stroking gently over the back of Leon’s hand as he gratefully drifted off to sleep, worries forgotten, at least for tonight.
Elyan
Elyan stroked his fingers across Merlin’s collarbones, over the pale skin stretched tight over sharp bones, leaning in to follow the path with his lips. He loved the way Merlin shuddered underneath him, the way his skin flushed pink as Elyan’s fingers roamed over it, almost like he was painting Merlin with his touch. Merlin was small, almost slight, but what almost no one got to see was the strength hiding under his ill-fitting clothes, and that was what Elyan loved most. His skin was almost milk-pale and smooth, his bones fine and bird-like. Elyan would be inclined to call him delicate if he didn’t know better, running his hands down Merlin’s arms and feeling the strength there, muscles twitching under his hands as Merlin arched into the touch.
He followed the path of his hands with his lips, kissing and biting and sucking until Merlin’s shoulders and chest were peppered with deep red marks and he was panting helplessly, his cock straining neglected against his belly. Elyan smirked up at him, seeing a quick twinkle in Merlin’s eye the second before he bent and swallowed Merlin’s cock to the root, his tongue working expertly over the sensitive flesh. He dug his fingers into Merlin’s hips, sliding his hands down over the twitching muscles in his thighs, pushing Merlin’s legs wide open. Merlin’s voice went high and wild above him when Elyan pulled his mouth off Merlin’s cock and moved lower, tongue teasing over Merlin’s arse and pushing inside.
Later, when Merlin was on his knees, fingers gripping the headboard of Elyan’s bed, Elyan admired the way the muscles in his back moved as he pushed deep into Merlin’s body, pulling him back harder and harder. Elyan felt his own muscles straining, his thighs starting to shake with the effort of hanging on, of giving Merlin everything he had. He leaned down over Merlin, wrapping one arm around Merlin’s chest and pulled him close, close enough to sink his teeth into the meat of Merlin’s shoulder, feeling Merlin shake as his orgasm took him over, his cock spilling onto the bed beneath him as Elyan’s cock spilled inside of him.
Merlin was loose and spent, sleepy as Elyan lay next to him, stroking his fingers over the marks he’d left, some of them already beginning to fade. He grinned up at Elyan, smile crooked and relaxed as he reached out, wrapping his arms around Elyan and pressing a kiss to his forehead and then his lips. Elyan was strong, anyone who looked at him could see it in the way he moved, the way he fought. But Merlin, Merlin was strong in a way that Elyan envied, so much stronger than anyone could ever see, able to carry so much on his narrow shoulders. Elyan could take on nearly anyone in a sword fight and come out still standing, but on the days when he felt like he might crumble under the weight of it all, it was only Merlin’s slim arms that could hold him together.
Gwaine
Gwaine laughed and wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist as they nearly tumbled through the door together, too much wine making their limbs loose in the joints. They’d been down in the tavern celebrating being just barely alive once again, the wine flowing like water, Merlin moving closer and closer till he was nearly sitting in Gwaine’s lap. He’d whispered that it was unseemly for a knight of Camelot to be so drunk in public, and surely it would be even worse for him to be seen stumbling through the town towards the castle. When Gwaine looked up at him with eyes that were just a little blurry, Merlin was grinning and dangling key from his fingers, and after draining his drink, Gwaine was leading the way up the stairs and into a dusty room with little more than a bed and a basin.
Their fingers fumbled, but it wasn’t long before their clothes were scattered over the floor, Merlin’s laugh ending in a huff as his back hit the bed, Gwaine settling comfortably in the wide spread of Merlin’s legs. His grin was crooked and naughty, and Merlin matched it, reaching up to fist a hand in Gwaine’s hair and pull him down for a kiss that was sloppy and eager. Gwaine pushed his tongue deep into Merlin’s mouth, licking out the taste of the wine and pulling a groan from Merlin’s throat. He ground his hips down against Merlin’s, their cocks already hard where they slid together, Gwaine’s breath catching in his throat as he pulled his mouth away from Merlin’s to pant.
The air in the room felt hot and heavy as they moved together, rolling on the bed in a teasing battle for dominance. Gwaine ran his tongue along the edge of Merlin’s ear, taking the lobe between his teeth in the way that made Merlin’s body turn to jelly, his breath leaving him in a shaky, needy sigh. Merlin flipped them over, grinning in the second before he dropped his head, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Gwaine’s inner thigh, swirling his tongue over the sensitive mark he left behind. He nipped the skin there again and again, Gwaine’s legs falling farther open, with each bite until he was panting, waving his hand around in surrender, murmuring that Merlin was a cheating bastard, and he should hurry up already.
Gwaine watched as Merlin stumbled over to the pile of clothing, digging around until he came up triumphant with a small vial of oil, and they both grinned as Merlin sicked his fingers, sliding them around Gwaine’s hole until he was begging. Merlin was the only person who could make Gwaine beg like this, who could make him even want to beg like this, and everything felt hectic and urgent as Merlin pushed his fingers inside, even as Gwaine’s wine-heavy blood slogged through his limbs. Gwaine urged him on, asking for more and faster and Merlin, fingers digging into Merlin’s arms until he finally replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing into Gwaine’s body with uneven, eager thrusts.
The bed rocked fiercely beneath them, the frame slamming into the wall with each thrust, their shouts and moans nearly as loud. The din from the tavern filtered up to them, and hopefully blocked out the noises they were making, because surely it was unseemly for a knight of Camelot to be heard being fucked soundly by the King’s servant. Gwaine wrapped his legs around Merlin’s waist and pulled him closer, tossing his head back as Merlin slid deeper, his thrusts smooth and even now. Merlin was panting, his face and ears gone red, and he balanced on one hand, fisting the other in Gwaine’s hair and pulling him up until he could kiss him deeply, teeth scraping deliciously over Gwaine’s lower lip.
Gwaine laughed as he came, a throaty chuckle that ended in a moan. Merlin couldn’t help but join in, the two of them laughing breathlessly as they collapsed into a sweaty, sticky tangle of limbs. Gwaine’s head was still spinning from the drink and his body felt heavy and floaty all at the same time, and he sighed as Merlin’s fingers carded through his hair, twisting the strands around his nimble fingers until tingles arced across Gwaine’s scalp. He’d spent most of his life moving from place to place, running away from something, or maybe towards something. He’d never known what he was looking for before, but with the wine in his blood and Merlin’s fingers against his skin, he allowed himself to think that perhaps he’d found it.
Merlin
Merlin sat by the light of the fire, scrubbing the bowls clean as best he could with a pot of water retrieved from the nearby river. The knights were sitting around the camp, engaged in conversation or games, winding down before settling in for the night. Arthur walked over and settled himself next to Merlin, a look of confusion settled around his brow.
“Merlin, why is it that my knights all seem so happy? Because whatever you made, it certainly wasn’t food.” Arthur’s brow wrinkled further when a sharp peal of laughter rang out in the night, muffled quickly when Gwaine, Percival, Elyan and Leon dropped their gazes, hiding their laughter in their sleeves. “What? What am I missing here? Merlin, tell me what’s going on!”
Merlin’s eyes twinkled, and he dug his teeth into his lower lip, holding back his own laughter as he caught eyes with Gwaine, who waggled his eyebrows. “It’s nothing sire, nothing at all. The knights simply aren’t as accustomed to the fine cooking that you are, and my meager offerings suit them just fine.”
Arthur looked around the camp, the look on his face saying he wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but unable to come up with a good reason to reject it.
“Right then. I think I’ll go to bed. Merlin, make sure all these dishes are clean and the horses are ready for tomorrow. The rest of you, get some sleep, we have lots of ground to cover in the morning.” Arthur stood and smoothed out his tunic, turning on his heel and heading for his tent, sparing one last confused backwards glance before letting the flap shut behind him.
“I don’t know, Merlin, I wouldn’t say your offerings are meager, exactly.” Gwaine hardly waited for the tent to close before he spoke with a grin on his face, his comment earning a long-suffering groan from Leon and an answering grin from Percival and Elyan.
Merlin rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face or the flush that crept up to the tips of his ears. “Ha ha. Get over here and help me with these dishes if I’m so wonderful.”
He was only a little surprised when Gwaine actually came and settled next to Merlin, smiling as he grabbed a bowl and started to wash. One by one the other knights followed, and they sat together chatting companionably until the dishes were as clean as they were going to get, and the fire was burning low. When the last log was turning to embers, they all stood and bid each other good night, the knights joking and clapping each other on the shoulders as they headed off to bed. Merlin doused the last of the fire before ducking into Arthur’s tent, tripping over something on the way to his bedroll. He grimaced as Arthur rolled over, grumbling “Maybe you could make more noise next time, Merlin,” deciding that just this once, he didn’t feel too badly keeping a secret from the King.
Pairing: Merlin/Percival; Merlin/Leon; Merlin/Elyan; Merlin/Gwaine
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~2900
Summary: Arthur doesn't understand what all the knights see in his manservant.
Notes: Written as sort of a gift for janesgravity for putting up with my damage. Thank you! Title from Queen's A Kind of Magic.
Arthur
It was late evening, the sun setting amongst the trees of the forest, and Arthur was just scraping the last bit of filling but bland stew out of his bowl. Merlin certainly didn’t have a future as a cook. Arthur wasn’t sure why he let him cook for the knights at all, if he was being honest. Even Percival could probably do a better job, and the one time he’d made them breakfast, the porridge was so sticky they’d had to throw away the pot. Arthur opened his mouth to say something to that effect, but he was stopped when he saw the other knights going over to Merlin one by one, clapping their hands on his shoulder before piling their empty bowls in front of him.
“Delicious, Merlin!”
“Just great, perfect meal.”
“Thanks, Merlin, we really do appreciate it.”
Merlin beamed up at them, Gwaine, Elyan and Percival in succession, and Arthur found himself staring in silence. His jaw must have been hanging open a little, because Leon paused on front of him, a slight look of concern wrinkling his brow.
“Are you alright, sire?” He reached out and took Arthur’s bowl from him, stacking it with his own.
“What? Oh, yes, yes I’m fine. Thank you.” He nodded distractedly up at him, and watched as even Leon strode purposefully over to Merlin and complimented him, squeezing his shoulder. Merlin looked up at Leon with twinkling eyes and a crooked smile, and Arthur wondered if his bowl had been filled with something different than his knights had eaten, despite seeing it all come from the same bubbling pot. He could come up with no other explanation for the knights undeserved praise of his dim manservant’s cooking, which was passable at best. Either that, or his knights were mad and lacking taste buds.
Percival
Percival groaned as Merlin dug his fingers hard into the broad span of Percival’s back, his thin frame arching perfectly as Percival moved slickly inside him. The small bed creaked underneath them as Merlin rocked in Percival’s lap, a gorgeous flush spreading over his chest as he panted, lips parted invitingly. Merlin’s body fit in Percival’s arms like he was made for it, and Percival ran his hands over Merlin’s back, a groan spilling from his lips when he he felt how his hands easily covered the span of Merlin’s narrow frame.
Merlin answered with a moan of his own, pressing himself impossibly closer, wrapping his long legs around Percival’s waist. He pushed down, Percival as deep in Merlin’s body as he could be, and then a little deeper, Merlin shaking with need and exertion. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Percival’s ear, and Percival tightened his grip on Merlin until his fingers ached with it. Merlin’s voice was filthy and wonderful as he whispered words like big and safe and more, and Percival’s head spun with it, with the way Merlin always knew just what to say, what to do, confident in a way people would be surprised to see. Percival let out a strangled groan, his hips pushing up hard enough into Merlin’s welcoming body that he thought he might buck Merlin off.
Percival hoped he never got used to the way Merlin felt in his arms, the way that he gave himself fully when Percival wrapped his arms tight around Merlin and rolled them over until Merlin was nearly crushed under Percival’s weight. The soft, pleading sounds Merlin made when he was close, the sweet way Percival’s name spilled from his lips as his seed spilled from his body. Most of all, he hoped he never got used to the easy way Merlin let himself be pulled close to Percival’s chest when it was all over, the sated smile on his drowsy face when Percival covered him so completely with his own body there was no need for a blanket even in the chill of winter. Percival was always struck with how young Merlin looked when he slept, his face gone smooth and easy, any hard edges from the day blended away. Just before he drifted off himself, Percival couldn’t help but trace his fingers softly over Merlin’s face, vowing to protect him always, no matter what it took.
Leon
It was dark inside the tent, just the barest light from the crackling fire outside filtering through through the door. Most of the knights were still awake, and their voices and laughter rose above the sound of the fire and mixed with the quiet night. Inside the tent, Leon spoke softly, his lips pressed as close to Merlin’s ear as their bodies were together. He ran his hands over Merlin’s warm skin, fingers pausing whenever he found the rough skin of a scar, tracing the edges of the familiar marks. They spoke of all the things they couldn’t or wouldn’t share with the other knights, the things that could only be shared between the King’s first knight and his most trusted servant.
When they fell silent, Leon’s hands grew more insistent, moving to feather down Merlin’s chest, flicking over his nipples, leaning in to catch the shaky moan that fell from Merlin’s lips with his own. They groaned together when Leon’s strong, rough hand wrapped around their cocks, callouses catching deliciously on the dry skin. Merlin moved sinuously against Leon, graceful in a way that not everyone got to see. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Leon’s neck, wet, open-mouthed kisses making Leon’s hand stutter on their cocks and his breathe huff out in a wavery gasp.
Leon came with a soft moan, a weight lifting off his chest as his cock spilled over his hand. Merlin kissed him through it, dropping his own hand to twine their fingers together, stroking until his release joined Leon’s, a rapidly cooling mess between their bodies. Leon’s cheeks flushed scarlet as they always did in the aftermath, and as always, Merlin leaned in with a grin and kissed away the flush, cleaning them up with a damp cloth he’d handily left beside the bedroll. He curled up, linking his fingers with Leon’s and tugging until he curled his own body around Merlin’s, burying his face into the damp hair at the nape of Merlin’s neck. There were more nights than Leon cared to admit that he didn’t sleep, staring wide-eyed and worried for the fate of his home and his king, his mind racing so fast he couldn’t keep up. He’d tried every remedy Gaius could brew, and drank everything the innkeepers could pour, but nothing worked. Nothing worked, except Merlin’s steady breathing, warm body, and fingers stroking gently over the back of Leon’s hand as he gratefully drifted off to sleep, worries forgotten, at least for tonight.
Elyan
Elyan stroked his fingers across Merlin’s collarbones, over the pale skin stretched tight over sharp bones, leaning in to follow the path with his lips. He loved the way Merlin shuddered underneath him, the way his skin flushed pink as Elyan’s fingers roamed over it, almost like he was painting Merlin with his touch. Merlin was small, almost slight, but what almost no one got to see was the strength hiding under his ill-fitting clothes, and that was what Elyan loved most. His skin was almost milk-pale and smooth, his bones fine and bird-like. Elyan would be inclined to call him delicate if he didn’t know better, running his hands down Merlin’s arms and feeling the strength there, muscles twitching under his hands as Merlin arched into the touch.
He followed the path of his hands with his lips, kissing and biting and sucking until Merlin’s shoulders and chest were peppered with deep red marks and he was panting helplessly, his cock straining neglected against his belly. Elyan smirked up at him, seeing a quick twinkle in Merlin’s eye the second before he bent and swallowed Merlin’s cock to the root, his tongue working expertly over the sensitive flesh. He dug his fingers into Merlin’s hips, sliding his hands down over the twitching muscles in his thighs, pushing Merlin’s legs wide open. Merlin’s voice went high and wild above him when Elyan pulled his mouth off Merlin’s cock and moved lower, tongue teasing over Merlin’s arse and pushing inside.
Later, when Merlin was on his knees, fingers gripping the headboard of Elyan’s bed, Elyan admired the way the muscles in his back moved as he pushed deep into Merlin’s body, pulling him back harder and harder. Elyan felt his own muscles straining, his thighs starting to shake with the effort of hanging on, of giving Merlin everything he had. He leaned down over Merlin, wrapping one arm around Merlin’s chest and pulled him close, close enough to sink his teeth into the meat of Merlin’s shoulder, feeling Merlin shake as his orgasm took him over, his cock spilling onto the bed beneath him as Elyan’s cock spilled inside of him.
Merlin was loose and spent, sleepy as Elyan lay next to him, stroking his fingers over the marks he’d left, some of them already beginning to fade. He grinned up at Elyan, smile crooked and relaxed as he reached out, wrapping his arms around Elyan and pressing a kiss to his forehead and then his lips. Elyan was strong, anyone who looked at him could see it in the way he moved, the way he fought. But Merlin, Merlin was strong in a way that Elyan envied, so much stronger than anyone could ever see, able to carry so much on his narrow shoulders. Elyan could take on nearly anyone in a sword fight and come out still standing, but on the days when he felt like he might crumble under the weight of it all, it was only Merlin’s slim arms that could hold him together.
Gwaine
Gwaine laughed and wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist as they nearly tumbled through the door together, too much wine making their limbs loose in the joints. They’d been down in the tavern celebrating being just barely alive once again, the wine flowing like water, Merlin moving closer and closer till he was nearly sitting in Gwaine’s lap. He’d whispered that it was unseemly for a knight of Camelot to be so drunk in public, and surely it would be even worse for him to be seen stumbling through the town towards the castle. When Gwaine looked up at him with eyes that were just a little blurry, Merlin was grinning and dangling key from his fingers, and after draining his drink, Gwaine was leading the way up the stairs and into a dusty room with little more than a bed and a basin.
Their fingers fumbled, but it wasn’t long before their clothes were scattered over the floor, Merlin’s laugh ending in a huff as his back hit the bed, Gwaine settling comfortably in the wide spread of Merlin’s legs. His grin was crooked and naughty, and Merlin matched it, reaching up to fist a hand in Gwaine’s hair and pull him down for a kiss that was sloppy and eager. Gwaine pushed his tongue deep into Merlin’s mouth, licking out the taste of the wine and pulling a groan from Merlin’s throat. He ground his hips down against Merlin’s, their cocks already hard where they slid together, Gwaine’s breath catching in his throat as he pulled his mouth away from Merlin’s to pant.
The air in the room felt hot and heavy as they moved together, rolling on the bed in a teasing battle for dominance. Gwaine ran his tongue along the edge of Merlin’s ear, taking the lobe between his teeth in the way that made Merlin’s body turn to jelly, his breath leaving him in a shaky, needy sigh. Merlin flipped them over, grinning in the second before he dropped his head, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Gwaine’s inner thigh, swirling his tongue over the sensitive mark he left behind. He nipped the skin there again and again, Gwaine’s legs falling farther open, with each bite until he was panting, waving his hand around in surrender, murmuring that Merlin was a cheating bastard, and he should hurry up already.
Gwaine watched as Merlin stumbled over to the pile of clothing, digging around until he came up triumphant with a small vial of oil, and they both grinned as Merlin sicked his fingers, sliding them around Gwaine’s hole until he was begging. Merlin was the only person who could make Gwaine beg like this, who could make him even want to beg like this, and everything felt hectic and urgent as Merlin pushed his fingers inside, even as Gwaine’s wine-heavy blood slogged through his limbs. Gwaine urged him on, asking for more and faster and Merlin, fingers digging into Merlin’s arms until he finally replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing into Gwaine’s body with uneven, eager thrusts.
The bed rocked fiercely beneath them, the frame slamming into the wall with each thrust, their shouts and moans nearly as loud. The din from the tavern filtered up to them, and hopefully blocked out the noises they were making, because surely it was unseemly for a knight of Camelot to be heard being fucked soundly by the King’s servant. Gwaine wrapped his legs around Merlin’s waist and pulled him closer, tossing his head back as Merlin slid deeper, his thrusts smooth and even now. Merlin was panting, his face and ears gone red, and he balanced on one hand, fisting the other in Gwaine’s hair and pulling him up until he could kiss him deeply, teeth scraping deliciously over Gwaine’s lower lip.
Gwaine laughed as he came, a throaty chuckle that ended in a moan. Merlin couldn’t help but join in, the two of them laughing breathlessly as they collapsed into a sweaty, sticky tangle of limbs. Gwaine’s head was still spinning from the drink and his body felt heavy and floaty all at the same time, and he sighed as Merlin’s fingers carded through his hair, twisting the strands around his nimble fingers until tingles arced across Gwaine’s scalp. He’d spent most of his life moving from place to place, running away from something, or maybe towards something. He’d never known what he was looking for before, but with the wine in his blood and Merlin’s fingers against his skin, he allowed himself to think that perhaps he’d found it.
Merlin
Merlin sat by the light of the fire, scrubbing the bowls clean as best he could with a pot of water retrieved from the nearby river. The knights were sitting around the camp, engaged in conversation or games, winding down before settling in for the night. Arthur walked over and settled himself next to Merlin, a look of confusion settled around his brow.
“Merlin, why is it that my knights all seem so happy? Because whatever you made, it certainly wasn’t food.” Arthur’s brow wrinkled further when a sharp peal of laughter rang out in the night, muffled quickly when Gwaine, Percival, Elyan and Leon dropped their gazes, hiding their laughter in their sleeves. “What? What am I missing here? Merlin, tell me what’s going on!”
Merlin’s eyes twinkled, and he dug his teeth into his lower lip, holding back his own laughter as he caught eyes with Gwaine, who waggled his eyebrows. “It’s nothing sire, nothing at all. The knights simply aren’t as accustomed to the fine cooking that you are, and my meager offerings suit them just fine.”
Arthur looked around the camp, the look on his face saying he wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but unable to come up with a good reason to reject it.
“Right then. I think I’ll go to bed. Merlin, make sure all these dishes are clean and the horses are ready for tomorrow. The rest of you, get some sleep, we have lots of ground to cover in the morning.” Arthur stood and smoothed out his tunic, turning on his heel and heading for his tent, sparing one last confused backwards glance before letting the flap shut behind him.
“I don’t know, Merlin, I wouldn’t say your offerings are meager, exactly.” Gwaine hardly waited for the tent to close before he spoke with a grin on his face, his comment earning a long-suffering groan from Leon and an answering grin from Percival and Elyan.
Merlin rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face or the flush that crept up to the tips of his ears. “Ha ha. Get over here and help me with these dishes if I’m so wonderful.”
He was only a little surprised when Gwaine actually came and settled next to Merlin, smiling as he grabbed a bowl and started to wash. One by one the other knights followed, and they sat together chatting companionably until the dishes were as clean as they were going to get, and the fire was burning low. When the last log was turning to embers, they all stood and bid each other good night, the knights joking and clapping each other on the shoulders as they headed off to bed. Merlin doused the last of the fire before ducking into Arthur’s tent, tripping over something on the way to his bedroll. He grimaced as Arthur rolled over, grumbling “Maybe you could make more noise next time, Merlin,” deciding that just this once, he didn’t feel too badly keeping a secret from the King.