deep as a secret nobody knows part 1/?
(BBC MERLIN) MERLIN/ARTHUR
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Fandom: Merlin
Warnings: underage, dub-con, non-con, angst
Disclaimer: Yeah, no. I own nothing.
A/N: For the Kinkme_merlin prompt: Arthur/Merlin, AU, non con/dub con. Hunith is a servant in Camelot so Arthur and Merlin have grown up together, except Arthur is a few years older. When Arthur begins to have his sexual awakening (around ages 14 or 15) he begins to take advantage of Merlin (who is around 11 or 12). As they grow older Merlin becomes pathetically in love with Arthur and is somewhat desperate anytime he is around him. Arthur can either feel bad about this and try to pull away or he can just not care and continue to take advantage of Merlin, it's up to the author.
Hunith is cleaning one of the upper rooms when she hears the clatter of running feet. A moment later, the door bursts open and Merlin catapults inside, nearly tripping in his haste.
"Mum!" Merlin shouts as he clings to her legs, staring up at her with wide, pleading eyes. "Hide me!"
She falls to her knees and hugs him. "Why?"
"Arthur," the boy whispers into Hunith's hair. Merlin is still so small that he fits completely in her arms.
Hunith nods in understanding and quickly ushers him under the bed, hiding a smile as she returns to smoothing the bed linens. Not long afterward, the door opens again and Arthur steps inside, looking around suspiciously. "He's here, isn't he?" Arthur asks imperiously. "I saw him run through here."
"I don't know who you're referring to, sire," Hunith says with another secret smile, sinking into a respectful curtsy. "I haven't seen my son since this morning. If you'll excuse me, I have my chores to complete."
Arthur looks like he wants to say something but changes his mind, walking deeper into the room and inspecting every nook and cranny of it. Hunith pauses in the doorway, watching the young prince with a touch of melancholy, because Arthur is so much like the Queen when she'd been alive, when she'd been a young girl herself playing the same hiding games with Hunith.
The door closes behind her just as Arthur says, softly, "There you are."
-
The air is dusty under the bed and Merlin's nose tickles but he can't make a sound because he doesn't want Arthur to find him. Arthur is his friend (and the prince, but Merlin doesn't really think that's so important) but ever since Arthur became Sir Kay's squire he's been acting rather strange. He's quiet and irritable and more of a prat than usual and Merlin isn't so old that he didn't feel scared when Arthur pushed him against the wall. The cuts on his elbows hurt - Merlin told his mum he slipped because, well, he doesn't want to get Arthur in trouble even if Arthur had hurt him - and Merlin tries to hold his breath when he hears Arthur's voice.
"Merlin, come out," Arthur whispers as his muddy boots come into view and despite his fear, Merlin wants to reveal himself. He wants to play with Arthur who's been too busy with his new duties to give Merlin attention. Vaguely, Merlin knows that Arthur doesn't need to give him anything but it's overcome by years of growing up side by side and games and pranks and special allowances given to Merlin because he is Prince Arthur's playmate.
Just as he's about to crawl out, hands suddenly reach under the bed and pull Merlin out. Merlin blinks and sees Arthur's hooded blue eyes before he's dragged forward on his knees. The younger boy's cry is muffled by the palm that covers his mouth. He meets Arthur's gaze, his own confused and scared.
"There you are," his friend murmurs.
-
"What have you and Arthur been up to?" Hunith asks with a small frown as she gently wipes Merlin's sooty face with a wet cloth. He is a mess, hair in disarray and clothes askew. His breeches are torn at the knees and she takes special care to clean the fresh wounds there.
Merlin bites his lip. "I fell," he whispers, staring at the floor. "I'm sorry."
Hunith sighs and kisses his damp cheek. "It's all right but next time, be careful. I don't want you hurting yourself."
"I was playing with Arthur," Merlin tells her and the smile returns to her lips.
After she dries and changes his clothes, Hunith brings her son to the small dining table. "Here, I took some of the leftovers from tonight's dinner," she says with a wink. "Besides, I think the cook loves you, says you help her mightily in the kitchen by doing errands."
Merlin grins for the first time that night. "I like to smell the food cooking."
"I bet you do," Hunith laughs as she watches Merlin eat. "I'm very proud of you, Merlin. You're a great friend to Prince Arthur and he doesn't have very many friends."
Merlin stares intently at his plate. "But Arthur has lots of friends."
"Not like you," Hunith insists with a soft look in her eyes. "I can tell that the prince cares a great deal for you, despite the age difference. Always has."
Merlin picks up the apple and bites into it, chewing noisily with juice running down his chin. "He's a prat, though," he says out loud with conviction.
Hunith reaches over and wipes the juice away. "He may be, at times, but there's greatness in him too. You might not see it yet because you're still young, and he's still young, but you'll see. Arthur will be the King someday and I'm certain you'll still be by his side when that happens. So take care of him, Merlin. He's your prince and friend."
-
In his chambers, Arthur fists himself slowly, wonderingly, learning the sharp twists of his wrist that makes him gasp out. He closes his eyes, a little wary of the pleasure and yet helpless to do anything but feel it, as if his body cannot control the urge to touch his cock. That first time, weeks ago, had been tinged with humiliation when he could no longer help but relieve the ache between his legs.
It is happening more frequently and Arthur is frustrated because he wants to be a good squire, wants to be a good knight, and yet everything seems to set him off: Morgana's increasingly low-cut gowns, the feel of a horse bucking underneath him, even the soft maddening fabric of his breeches gets him hard.
And then earlier, with Merlin.
Arthur flushes with hot arousal and deep shame, trying to forget but failing because he remembers -
He bends Merlin over the bed, pressing flush against the boy's warm, warm, oh so warm body. He is small and thin, not yet growing in the way Arthur is, so every tremor is felt. Arthur's hands are tight around Merlin's arms, rutting against the body below his. A haze has fallen over him, clouding his mind ever since he'd earlier seen Merlin grinning at one of the newer chambermaids, cheeks round and flushed with youth. He recalls pushing the younger boy against the wall the night before, overcome by frustration because Merlin had been chattering away and there had been a deep itch in his gut.
He is breathing harshly against Merlin's ear, unable to do anything but move, unable to even think about what he is doing. He buries his nose in dark hair and he gets his first feel of another warm body, his first whiff of another's scent. Arthur runs his tongue on the back of Merlin's neck and the salty taste overwhelms him, stutters his heartbeat, makes him soil his breeches not for the first time. Arthur is coming down from his orgasm when he realizes that Merlin is crying underneath him -
just now remembers that Merlin had been saying, "Arthur, w-what are you doing? Arthur? Ar-thur?" in a small, frightened voice he's never associated with the older boy before. Not even during the time they'd first met, when Arthur was ten and sulking and six-year-old Merlin had tripped all over him on his way to the castle. He can't believe he'd done that to a child, to Merlin, and Arthur must be some kind of monster because he liked it, loved it so that the remembrance of the way he'd pinned Merlin down, rubbing all over the boy's back is making him spiral down into oblivion faster than the thought of Morgana's developing breasts.
He spills hotly over his fist with a drawn-out groan, body taut like the drawn string of a bow, before it melts into the mattress in boneless gratification.
Arthur brings his hand up and stares balefully at the pearly fluid sticking to his fingers. Arthur knows it's wrong, it is horrifying, he could be sent to the chopping block for what he has done, defiling one so young and innocent (Merlin). It's only - Arthur is confused and aching and hard all the time, changing in ways he doesn't know of, and there is no one to talk to because of his rank and own deepening pride.
He recalls the way he'd sent Merlin away with a threat - a threat - not to tell anyone of what had happened, especially Hunith, and Merlin had run from him in fear. A pang shoots through him because Arthur never wants to make Merlin feel that way about him; not Merlin who has more disrespect in his little body than anyone else in Camelot. Who Arthur knows is going to grow up spectacular and subversive -
And not next to him, if Arthur will not stop. He closes his fingers one by one, holding his damp fist over him, and swears never to do it again.
>>
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Fandom: Merlin
Warnings: underage, dub-con, non-con, angst
Disclaimer: Yeah, no. I own nothing.
A/N: For the Kinkme_merlin prompt: Arthur/Merlin, AU, non con/dub con. Hunith is a servant in Camelot so Arthur and Merlin have grown up together, except Arthur is a few years older. When Arthur begins to have his sexual awakening (around ages 14 or 15) he begins to take advantage of Merlin (who is around 11 or 12). As they grow older Merlin becomes pathetically in love with Arthur and is somewhat desperate anytime he is around him. Arthur can either feel bad about this and try to pull away or he can just not care and continue to take advantage of Merlin, it's up to the author.
Hunith is cleaning one of the upper rooms when she hears the clatter of running feet. A moment later, the door bursts open and Merlin catapults inside, nearly tripping in his haste.
"Mum!" Merlin shouts as he clings to her legs, staring up at her with wide, pleading eyes. "Hide me!"
She falls to her knees and hugs him. "Why?"
"Arthur," the boy whispers into Hunith's hair. Merlin is still so small that he fits completely in her arms.
Hunith nods in understanding and quickly ushers him under the bed, hiding a smile as she returns to smoothing the bed linens. Not long afterward, the door opens again and Arthur steps inside, looking around suspiciously. "He's here, isn't he?" Arthur asks imperiously. "I saw him run through here."
"I don't know who you're referring to, sire," Hunith says with another secret smile, sinking into a respectful curtsy. "I haven't seen my son since this morning. If you'll excuse me, I have my chores to complete."
Arthur looks like he wants to say something but changes his mind, walking deeper into the room and inspecting every nook and cranny of it. Hunith pauses in the doorway, watching the young prince with a touch of melancholy, because Arthur is so much like the Queen when she'd been alive, when she'd been a young girl herself playing the same hiding games with Hunith.
The door closes behind her just as Arthur says, softly, "There you are."
-
The air is dusty under the bed and Merlin's nose tickles but he can't make a sound because he doesn't want Arthur to find him. Arthur is his friend (and the prince, but Merlin doesn't really think that's so important) but ever since Arthur became Sir Kay's squire he's been acting rather strange. He's quiet and irritable and more of a prat than usual and Merlin isn't so old that he didn't feel scared when Arthur pushed him against the wall. The cuts on his elbows hurt - Merlin told his mum he slipped because, well, he doesn't want to get Arthur in trouble even if Arthur had hurt him - and Merlin tries to hold his breath when he hears Arthur's voice.
"Merlin, come out," Arthur whispers as his muddy boots come into view and despite his fear, Merlin wants to reveal himself. He wants to play with Arthur who's been too busy with his new duties to give Merlin attention. Vaguely, Merlin knows that Arthur doesn't need to give him anything but it's overcome by years of growing up side by side and games and pranks and special allowances given to Merlin because he is Prince Arthur's playmate.
Just as he's about to crawl out, hands suddenly reach under the bed and pull Merlin out. Merlin blinks and sees Arthur's hooded blue eyes before he's dragged forward on his knees. The younger boy's cry is muffled by the palm that covers his mouth. He meets Arthur's gaze, his own confused and scared.
"There you are," his friend murmurs.
-
"What have you and Arthur been up to?" Hunith asks with a small frown as she gently wipes Merlin's sooty face with a wet cloth. He is a mess, hair in disarray and clothes askew. His breeches are torn at the knees and she takes special care to clean the fresh wounds there.
Merlin bites his lip. "I fell," he whispers, staring at the floor. "I'm sorry."
Hunith sighs and kisses his damp cheek. "It's all right but next time, be careful. I don't want you hurting yourself."
"I was playing with Arthur," Merlin tells her and the smile returns to her lips.
After she dries and changes his clothes, Hunith brings her son to the small dining table. "Here, I took some of the leftovers from tonight's dinner," she says with a wink. "Besides, I think the cook loves you, says you help her mightily in the kitchen by doing errands."
Merlin grins for the first time that night. "I like to smell the food cooking."
"I bet you do," Hunith laughs as she watches Merlin eat. "I'm very proud of you, Merlin. You're a great friend to Prince Arthur and he doesn't have very many friends."
Merlin stares intently at his plate. "But Arthur has lots of friends."
"Not like you," Hunith insists with a soft look in her eyes. "I can tell that the prince cares a great deal for you, despite the age difference. Always has."
Merlin picks up the apple and bites into it, chewing noisily with juice running down his chin. "He's a prat, though," he says out loud with conviction.
Hunith reaches over and wipes the juice away. "He may be, at times, but there's greatness in him too. You might not see it yet because you're still young, and he's still young, but you'll see. Arthur will be the King someday and I'm certain you'll still be by his side when that happens. So take care of him, Merlin. He's your prince and friend."
-
In his chambers, Arthur fists himself slowly, wonderingly, learning the sharp twists of his wrist that makes him gasp out. He closes his eyes, a little wary of the pleasure and yet helpless to do anything but feel it, as if his body cannot control the urge to touch his cock. That first time, weeks ago, had been tinged with humiliation when he could no longer help but relieve the ache between his legs.
It is happening more frequently and Arthur is frustrated because he wants to be a good squire, wants to be a good knight, and yet everything seems to set him off: Morgana's increasingly low-cut gowns, the feel of a horse bucking underneath him, even the soft maddening fabric of his breeches gets him hard.
And then earlier, with Merlin.
Arthur flushes with hot arousal and deep shame, trying to forget but failing because he remembers -
He bends Merlin over the bed, pressing flush against the boy's warm, warm, oh so warm body. He is small and thin, not yet growing in the way Arthur is, so every tremor is felt. Arthur's hands are tight around Merlin's arms, rutting against the body below his. A haze has fallen over him, clouding his mind ever since he'd earlier seen Merlin grinning at one of the newer chambermaids, cheeks round and flushed with youth. He recalls pushing the younger boy against the wall the night before, overcome by frustration because Merlin had been chattering away and there had been a deep itch in his gut.
He is breathing harshly against Merlin's ear, unable to do anything but move, unable to even think about what he is doing. He buries his nose in dark hair and he gets his first feel of another warm body, his first whiff of another's scent. Arthur runs his tongue on the back of Merlin's neck and the salty taste overwhelms him, stutters his heartbeat, makes him soil his breeches not for the first time. Arthur is coming down from his orgasm when he realizes that Merlin is crying underneath him -
just now remembers that Merlin had been saying, "Arthur, w-what are you doing? Arthur? Ar-thur?" in a small, frightened voice he's never associated with the older boy before. Not even during the time they'd first met, when Arthur was ten and sulking and six-year-old Merlin had tripped all over him on his way to the castle. He can't believe he'd done that to a child, to Merlin, and Arthur must be some kind of monster because he liked it, loved it so that the remembrance of the way he'd pinned Merlin down, rubbing all over the boy's back is making him spiral down into oblivion faster than the thought of Morgana's developing breasts.
He spills hotly over his fist with a drawn-out groan, body taut like the drawn string of a bow, before it melts into the mattress in boneless gratification.
Arthur brings his hand up and stares balefully at the pearly fluid sticking to his fingers. Arthur knows it's wrong, it is horrifying, he could be sent to the chopping block for what he has done, defiling one so young and innocent (Merlin). It's only - Arthur is confused and aching and hard all the time, changing in ways he doesn't know of, and there is no one to talk to because of his rank and own deepening pride.
He recalls the way he'd sent Merlin away with a threat - a threat - not to tell anyone of what had happened, especially Hunith, and Merlin had run from him in fear. A pang shoots through him because Arthur never wants to make Merlin feel that way about him; not Merlin who has more disrespect in his little body than anyone else in Camelot. Who Arthur knows is going to grow up spectacular and subversive -
And not next to him, if Arthur will not stop. He closes his fingers one by one, holding his damp fist over him, and swears never to do it again.
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