Well, this is unexpected...
I've been rewatching Merlin lately. This week, it was 'The Crystal Cave'... love that episode so much. Not the least of my reasons being for that scene with Arthur fighting in the rain and Merlin leaning against the wall, watching him...
Right after that scene, they had sex. *nods* NO ONE CAN PERSUADE ME OTHERWISE!! So I wrote this. :) Enjoy. ( Cross-posted to merlinxarthur
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,300
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, not even a little.
Arthur let his sword fall from his hands, clanging harshly to the ground. He didn’t have the strength to wield it any more.
Morgana was lying in a bed, broken and dying, and he couldn’t do a single thing to help. That feeling of helplessness, more than anything, was what upset him. It was what urged him outside in the pouring rain, yelling and cursing and fighting just to keep from going mad.
As if Morgana being in pain wasn’t enough, he couldn’t stand seeing everyone else’s grief, either. His father, Gwen… even Merlin had a haunted look to his eyes that made Arthur ache. Merlin may be his servant, and Arthur might treat him like an idiot, but Merlin was… well, he was always there, and Arthur couldn’t really say that about anyone else, so that must count for something. Whatever it meant, he didn’t want Merlin upset.
Physically, he’d had enough, but inside, he was still jittery, like a horse caught in a thunderstorm. He didn’t know which way to turn or what to think… he just needed to do something.
Merlin walked beside him back to his chamber without a single sound. Arthur thought silence would be nice, but it wasn’t. He hated it. He needed normalcy, something to distract him.
“Come on, Merlin, where’s your usual chattering?” he asked, voice sounding harsher than he meant.
Merlin startled beside him, as if he’d even forgotten they were even walking together.
“I…” he shrugged, “I don’t really know what to say…”
“Nevermind,” Arthur muttered.
He ran a hand through his hair. He could already feel his wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to him. His armor felt heavier than usual and his skin was tingling, like he wanted to crawl right out of his own body.
Arthur flung open the door to his chamber and went to the table to remove his armor. Merlin was only a step behind him, but Arthur resisted his help, snapping that he’d do it himself. But he could only manage to remove his sword belt, his hands were shaking so. Bracing his arms on the tabletop, hung his head and breathed heavily, trying to get himself under control.
Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Merlin beside him - not rushing, not pushing - just waiting, patiently. He was always waiting, wasn’t he? He was always there.
“Merlin,” he began roughly, “I…”
Merlin’s hand touched his shoulder.
“Anything,” he answered, his voice a rough whisper.
Arthur felt all the air leave out of his lungs in one sudden rush. Merlin met his gaze with confidence, his eyes bright with the same sort of desperation Arthur was feeling. He didn’t realize he’d moved, but Merlin was lifting off his chainmail and laying it on the table and then he was standing before Arthur and he was exactly what Arthur wanted - needed - right then.
It took one step to close the distance between them and then his mouth was on Merlin’s and, oh yes, Merlin was kissing him back, his mouth open and eager, and Arthur felt like he was in the rain again, sinking and drowning, though he didn’t want to stop this time.
Merlin was clinging to him, his arms wrapped tightly around Arthur’s neck, tugging on his soaking skirt. They were both shivering and wet, but Merlin’s mouth was warm and Arthur pushed his tongue inside, craving that heat.
Arthur turned and pushed him up against the hard edge of the table, seeking friction, pressure, anything to get their bodies closer. Merlin’s hands scrambled to keep balance and he knocked Arthur’s sword to the floor with a crash.
“Clumsy fool,” Arthur muttered, his hands on Merlin’s back, pulling him in and grinding their hips together.
“Arrogant prat,” Merlin replied under his breath, his mouth roaming greedily along Arthur’s neck.
If Arthur thought he was a mess before, he was helpless now, with Merlin’s mouth on him like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted. He would never have even dreamed Merlin could be like this - just as desperate for him - and it was almost enough to send him tumbling headlong right over the edge.
As it was, Arthur managed to guide them across the room, with Merlin’s hands and mouth urging him on while they stumbled to the bed. With Merlin seated on the edge, Arthur knelt to remove his boots. He could see Merlin’s chest rising and falling with each shallow breath and Merlin’s hands were combing through his hair and Arthur was trembling so badly, he could hardly make his hands work at all.
When he finally managed to get the boots off, he looked up to find Merlin staring back at him. He was a wreck; his eyes were wild and dark, and his lips were parted, struggling for breath. He was gorgeous, Arthur realized, and it struck him so suddenly, as though someone had reached inside his chest and grabbed his heart to stop it beating.
Leaning in, Arthur pressed his mouth to the inside of Merlin’s leg just above the knee, sucking at the skin beneath his clothes. Merlin’s hands gripped his shoulders tightly, and he let out this moan that Arthur would swear to be the best sound he’d ever heard, and so he used his teeth on the same spot, just to hear it again.
Merlin started complaining about clothes and skin and saying things like please, and want you now until all Arthur could do was push him back against the sheets and crawl on top of him and kiss him. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t even thought of it before, really, but now that he had it - had Merlin - like this, it was perfect.
Merlin made quick work of their clothes then, his hands pulling and tugging with a fervor that Arthur greatly appreciated. And while he did, Arthur pressed his lips to every newly revealed part of Merlin’s body that he could reach, kissing and licking and biting his rain-damp skin, wanting to leave marks for him to see - for everyone to see - that Merlin was his.
Merlin was leaving his own marks, too, Arthur was sure of it. He could feel where the bruises would blossom in the morning... lines from fingers running down his back, and spots from hands that gripped his thighs as their hips pushed together recklessly.
It was intoxicating, having Merlin beneath him like this. Even the air around them seemed to come alive, and when Merlin gasped his name, all Arthur wanted was for him to say it again and again, and he told Merlin that. He begged him for more, begged him not to stop, and Merlin - god, Merlin - he didn’t. He gave Arthur everything he asked for until they were both breathless and spent and couldn’t even hear the sound of the storm raging outside over the pounding of their own hearts.
Arthur kept his body pressed tightly against Merlin’s for a while, as if they could somehow just remain like this and forget everything else. It was too soon that reality settled back around them both. Arthur knew he couldn’t stay here, and Merlin would need to leave soon, as well. Merlin stroked his hands through Arthur’s hair and kissed him lazily, before apologetically breaking away.
“I have to get back to Gaius,” he whispered, climbing out of bed and finding his scattered clothes.
Arthur nodded, knowing he needed to go check on his father.
“I’ll fix this,” Merlin murmured, sealing the promise with brush of his lips to Arthur’s shoulder before he left, “I’ll make this right.”
Arthur didn’t understand what he meant, though he thought of those words later, as he fell into a dreamless sleep.
The next day, when Morgana miraculously awoke and Merlin couldn’t quite meet his eyes, Arthur couldn’t help but wonder what, exactly, he was missing.
Right after that scene, they had sex. *nods* NO ONE CAN PERSUADE ME OTHERWISE!! So I wrote this. :) Enjoy. ( Cross-posted to merlinxarthur
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,300
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, not even a little.
Arthur let his sword fall from his hands, clanging harshly to the ground. He didn’t have the strength to wield it any more.
Morgana was lying in a bed, broken and dying, and he couldn’t do a single thing to help. That feeling of helplessness, more than anything, was what upset him. It was what urged him outside in the pouring rain, yelling and cursing and fighting just to keep from going mad.
As if Morgana being in pain wasn’t enough, he couldn’t stand seeing everyone else’s grief, either. His father, Gwen… even Merlin had a haunted look to his eyes that made Arthur ache. Merlin may be his servant, and Arthur might treat him like an idiot, but Merlin was… well, he was always there, and Arthur couldn’t really say that about anyone else, so that must count for something. Whatever it meant, he didn’t want Merlin upset.
Physically, he’d had enough, but inside, he was still jittery, like a horse caught in a thunderstorm. He didn’t know which way to turn or what to think… he just needed to do something.
Merlin walked beside him back to his chamber without a single sound. Arthur thought silence would be nice, but it wasn’t. He hated it. He needed normalcy, something to distract him.
“Come on, Merlin, where’s your usual chattering?” he asked, voice sounding harsher than he meant.
Merlin startled beside him, as if he’d even forgotten they were even walking together.
“I…” he shrugged, “I don’t really know what to say…”
“Nevermind,” Arthur muttered.
He ran a hand through his hair. He could already feel his wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to him. His armor felt heavier than usual and his skin was tingling, like he wanted to crawl right out of his own body.
Arthur flung open the door to his chamber and went to the table to remove his armor. Merlin was only a step behind him, but Arthur resisted his help, snapping that he’d do it himself. But he could only manage to remove his sword belt, his hands were shaking so. Bracing his arms on the tabletop, hung his head and breathed heavily, trying to get himself under control.
Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Merlin beside him - not rushing, not pushing - just waiting, patiently. He was always waiting, wasn’t he? He was always there.
“Merlin,” he began roughly, “I…”
Merlin’s hand touched his shoulder.
“Anything,” he answered, his voice a rough whisper.
Arthur felt all the air leave out of his lungs in one sudden rush. Merlin met his gaze with confidence, his eyes bright with the same sort of desperation Arthur was feeling. He didn’t realize he’d moved, but Merlin was lifting off his chainmail and laying it on the table and then he was standing before Arthur and he was exactly what Arthur wanted - needed - right then.
It took one step to close the distance between them and then his mouth was on Merlin’s and, oh yes, Merlin was kissing him back, his mouth open and eager, and Arthur felt like he was in the rain again, sinking and drowning, though he didn’t want to stop this time.
Merlin was clinging to him, his arms wrapped tightly around Arthur’s neck, tugging on his soaking skirt. They were both shivering and wet, but Merlin’s mouth was warm and Arthur pushed his tongue inside, craving that heat.
Arthur turned and pushed him up against the hard edge of the table, seeking friction, pressure, anything to get their bodies closer. Merlin’s hands scrambled to keep balance and he knocked Arthur’s sword to the floor with a crash.
“Clumsy fool,” Arthur muttered, his hands on Merlin’s back, pulling him in and grinding their hips together.
“Arrogant prat,” Merlin replied under his breath, his mouth roaming greedily along Arthur’s neck.
If Arthur thought he was a mess before, he was helpless now, with Merlin’s mouth on him like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted. He would never have even dreamed Merlin could be like this - just as desperate for him - and it was almost enough to send him tumbling headlong right over the edge.
As it was, Arthur managed to guide them across the room, with Merlin’s hands and mouth urging him on while they stumbled to the bed. With Merlin seated on the edge, Arthur knelt to remove his boots. He could see Merlin’s chest rising and falling with each shallow breath and Merlin’s hands were combing through his hair and Arthur was trembling so badly, he could hardly make his hands work at all.
When he finally managed to get the boots off, he looked up to find Merlin staring back at him. He was a wreck; his eyes were wild and dark, and his lips were parted, struggling for breath. He was gorgeous, Arthur realized, and it struck him so suddenly, as though someone had reached inside his chest and grabbed his heart to stop it beating.
Leaning in, Arthur pressed his mouth to the inside of Merlin’s leg just above the knee, sucking at the skin beneath his clothes. Merlin’s hands gripped his shoulders tightly, and he let out this moan that Arthur would swear to be the best sound he’d ever heard, and so he used his teeth on the same spot, just to hear it again.
Merlin started complaining about clothes and skin and saying things like please, and want you now until all Arthur could do was push him back against the sheets and crawl on top of him and kiss him. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t even thought of it before, really, but now that he had it - had Merlin - like this, it was perfect.
Merlin made quick work of their clothes then, his hands pulling and tugging with a fervor that Arthur greatly appreciated. And while he did, Arthur pressed his lips to every newly revealed part of Merlin’s body that he could reach, kissing and licking and biting his rain-damp skin, wanting to leave marks for him to see - for everyone to see - that Merlin was his.
Merlin was leaving his own marks, too, Arthur was sure of it. He could feel where the bruises would blossom in the morning... lines from fingers running down his back, and spots from hands that gripped his thighs as their hips pushed together recklessly.
It was intoxicating, having Merlin beneath him like this. Even the air around them seemed to come alive, and when Merlin gasped his name, all Arthur wanted was for him to say it again and again, and he told Merlin that. He begged him for more, begged him not to stop, and Merlin - god, Merlin - he didn’t. He gave Arthur everything he asked for until they were both breathless and spent and couldn’t even hear the sound of the storm raging outside over the pounding of their own hearts.
Arthur kept his body pressed tightly against Merlin’s for a while, as if they could somehow just remain like this and forget everything else. It was too soon that reality settled back around them both. Arthur knew he couldn’t stay here, and Merlin would need to leave soon, as well. Merlin stroked his hands through Arthur’s hair and kissed him lazily, before apologetically breaking away.
“I have to get back to Gaius,” he whispered, climbing out of bed and finding his scattered clothes.
Arthur nodded, knowing he needed to go check on his father.
“I’ll fix this,” Merlin murmured, sealing the promise with brush of his lips to Arthur’s shoulder before he left, “I’ll make this right.”
Arthur didn’t understand what he meant, though he thought of those words later, as he fell into a dreamless sleep.
The next day, when Morgana miraculously awoke and Merlin couldn’t quite meet his eyes, Arthur couldn’t help but wonder what, exactly, he was missing.