~*~
~*~
“Your 1 o'clock is here,” comes Freya's voice from the speakerphone.
Arthur closes his laptop and stands up, buttoning his jacket. Then he sees Gwaine strut through the door like he owned the place. “Gwaine?” he asks disbelievingly.
“For all you know, I could be an actual client!” Arthur raises one eyebrow, unimpressed. “Fine, I'm not,” he admits, laughing.
“What are you even doing here? You realize you have my phone number, right?” Arthur waves a hand towards the chairs in front of Gwaine, years of business professionalism ingrained in his mind.
“Ah, yes, but Merlin would kill me if he knew I was talking to you about him, so I figured I was safest visiting you at work.”
“Merlin works here,” Arthur replies, unimpressed.
“Yeah, but he doesn't work with you. Which is all not what I came here to discuss,” Gwaine says. He's sprawling in one of Arthur's chairs and he looks like he is seconds away from putting his feet up somewhere.
“Don't,” Arthur warns. Gwaine gives him an indulging look. “So, what do you want?”
Gwaine hums and takes his time. Arthur is kind of mad that Gwaine, a professional lazy ass, looks so at ease in his office. Arthur will have to seriously reconsider putting such comfortable chairs out for his clients.
“So, I assume either Morgana or Merlin have already told you Merlin and I used to date.”
Arthur feels a slight pang of jealously, completely unreasonable and perfectly aware of it, which is precisely why his only reaction is to nod.
“I didn't come here to make you jealous,” Gwaine continues, picking up a pen from Arthur's desk and twirling it between his fingers. One corner of Arthur's mouth lifts - Gwaine is surprisingly similar to him and Arthur should have known he would understand. “I came here to tell you that Merlin is my friend. My best friend. He's the closest thing to family I have.”
“I know,” Arthur says. He's never spoken to Gwaine about his family, but from the mentions in various conversations he's picked up on the fact that Gwaine's never even met his father and he's never been very close to his mother. He understands Gwaine's protectiveness over Merlin perfectly; he can relate, having Morgana in his life.
“Don't hurt him,” Gwaine says, cutting straight to the point. “Or I will end you.” He's smiling, the charming sod that he is, but Arthur knows he's serious. Gwaine throws the pen over to Arthur. Arthur catches it and throws it back. “You make him happy,” Gwaine comments, not looking at Arthur as he throws the pen again. “And I want to help you make him even happier. So if you ever need a cheat sheet, I'm here.”
Arthur throws the pen at Gwaine's head, hoping to catch him off guard, but Gwaine ducks and the pen falls to the floor somewhere behind him. “I'm not gonna need it.”
“I hope so,” Gwaine shrugs, standing up to leave.
Something occurs to Arthur as Gwaine reaches for the door. “Hey, I have to ask you. Did you date Merlin before, I mean, back when he could still hear, or...?”
Gwaine looks at him over his shoulder. “Yeah, mostly. And briefly after he couldn't anymore.”
He doesn't elaborate, and Arthur doesn't ask. He adds Gwaine's number to his speed dial.
~*~
With only one lamp in the room turned on behind him, the light is dim and only just enough for Arthur to make out the lines of Merlin's face. The straight, long line of his nose and the sharp angles of his cheekbones are bathed in the warm, golden light, standing out even more against the deep shadows covering the rest of his face. Before his eyes can adjust and the artistic quality of his barely working appliances is lost, Arthur kisses Merlin, taking care not to break eye contact. Even Merlin's eyes appear golden before they close.
“Not to kill the mood,” Merlin says, slightly breathless, “but Morgana isn’t coming back tonight, is she?” His thighs on either side of Arthur's, he rolls his hips forward just enough for Arthur to feel the heat coming from Merlin's front.
Arthur laughs, his head dropping to Merlin's shoulder briefly before he looks up again. “No. Now can we please not talk about my sister anymore while I'm thinking about you naked?”
“Oh?” Merlin replies innocently, batting his eyelashes. “Well, I'm not naked yet.”
“I'm aware,” Arthur says, sliding his hands under Merlin's shirt and up his back. “I'm working on that.”
“Mmmm?” Merlin hums. “Need help with that?”
Arthur rubs Merlin's back and leans up for a kiss before deciding to sacrifice one hand in favour of unbuttoning Merlin's shirt. Merlin's hands on Arthur's shoulders are gentle, but twitchy. Merlin's nervous, Arthur realizes, for all that he's playing it cool. To his surprise, Arthur himself is not so much nervous as he's giddy on the effect he has on Merlin.
The first and second buttons on Merlin’s shirt give easily under his fingers, the dark plaid parting. Arthur leans in and kisses the dip under Merlin's throat, flicking his tongue out to taste the skin. Merlin smells good - light, fresh cologne just barely overpowering the clean, forest smell of his skin. Arthur closes his eyes and breaths in deep. On a whim, he bares his teeth, scraping them lightly over the bone. One of Merlin's hands is immediately in his hair and Merlin groans quietly. Arthur bites down harder, then soothes the mark with his tongue as he continues to work his way down Merlin's front.
When Merlin's shirt falls open, Arthur moves away enough to take him in. He puts his hand, fingers spread, over Merlin's warm stomach, feels the slight tickling of the hairs there. Merlin breathes in sharply.
“It's been a while for me,” Merlin says. His hand creases the material of Arthur's shirt as he slides down from Arthur's shoulder to his chest. “Probably two years,” he adds. He doesn't look embarrassed.
“I wasn't going to mount you on the floor caveman style,” Arthur jokes pushing Merlin's shirt enough to reveal one bony shoulder.
Merlin's eyes flash and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Damn, I was rather hoping,” he says. Arthur feels a surge of arousal go through him. He scratches at Merlin's back and delights in the way it makes Merlin arch away from his hand for an instant before pushing back against it. “Maybe some other time,” Merlin promises. He leans forward, his lips brushing over Arthur's cheek. “Because I would really like that,” he whispers directly in Arthur's ear, making him shiver. Arthur nips at the lobe of Merlin's ear in response.
He kisses the side of Merlin's neck, then lower until he reaches the place where it meets Merlin's shoulder. He bites down hard and sucks; fully aware he's leaving a mark. Merlin moans loudly, his nails scratching Arthur's scalp pleasantly and his other hand pulling on Arthur's shirt so hard the top button flies off, making them both laugh.
“You owe me a shirt,” Arthur says, grinning.
“I like you better without it anyway,” Merlin replies, quickly and efficiently undoing a few more buttons. His fingers only brush over Arthur's skin and the anticipation of a prolonged touch makes everything Arthur feels so much sharper.
Impatient, he holds the back of Merlin's shirt in his hand and pulls on it until Merlin, laughing, gives in and relaxes his arms enough for Arthur to pull his shirt completely off. Arthur puts both of his hands on Merlin's chest, spreads his fingers. Merlin's chest rises and falls as he breathes, a little shallow, but still even. His skin is warm and soft and Arthur can feel the lean muscles twitching under his palms. He lets his hands roam over Merlin's front.
Merlin continues to undo Arthur's buttons and strokes the side of Arthur's face. Arthur's fingers tangle in what little chest hair Merlin has, his other hand slowly making its way to the back of Merlin's neck. He's seen Merlin shirtless before, he's touched Merlin before, but not yet quite like this, not with these intentions.
Arthur rubs his thumb over Merlin's nipple, then pinches it, enjoying the surprised sound Merlin makes. He does it again, then moves on to the other nipple. Merlin knocks their foreheads together. He pushes Arthur's shirt off his shoulders, then grabs Arthur's biceps for better stability as Arthur continues touching him.
“Oh god,” Merlin sighs, his hips twitching forward. “Okay, god, stop, please.”
Arthur does, his hand gravitating to the centre of Merlin's chest and then lower, until it's resting just under Merlin's belly button, stroking over the soft skin gently. Merlin's breathing is harsher now and there are beads of sweat on his temples. His cheeks and neck are flushed pink.
“Too much?” Arthur asks, rubbing the back of Merlin's neck.
“A little, yeah.”
“Sorry.”
Merlin just hums noncommittally, cocking his head to the side and sliding one hand over Arthur's chest. “And you?” he asks. “What do you like?”
“You,” Arthur replies, without a thought. Merlin makes a face at that, like he's swallowing a lemon, but when their eyes meet, he doesn't seem to be able to hold it in anymore and starts laughing. Arthur's cheeks burn with embarrassment, but Merlin's laughter is infectious and soon, he's joining in.
“Sorry,” Merlin hiccups, “I didn't mean to laugh at you, but...” He touches Arthur's forehead with his, a few last bursts of laughter leaving his mouth. “That was... sweet,” he says at the same time as Arthur offers, “Juvenile?” Merlin strokes Arthur's cheek with a gentle hand. “I was gonna be nice about it but now that you mention it, yeah, a bit childish.”
“Yeah. I'm usually smoother than that,” Arthur promises.
Merlin puts a finger to his lips, pouting. “Not really, no.”
Arthur shakes his head, mock offended. Merlin just grins at him playfully and kisses him again.
“Don't worry,” he says. “You've gotten me into a bed, so clearly you're doing something right.”
“Clearly,” Arthur replies, wrapping his arms around Merlin's torso and bringing him closer to kiss him. One of Merlin's hands finds its way to Arthur's neck, while the other wastes no time going for Arthur's belt. Arthur appreciates the enthusiasm.
“Wait, hold on,” Merlin suddenly says, putting a hand on Arthur's chest and pushing him back a little. Arthur frowns at him, confused. “Before we are totally back into it we should probably get all the awkward stuff out of the way,” Merlin explains. “Like, for example, you don't really have a wide variety of positions to choose from, since I do need to see your face. At least for the beginning.”
“I can make that work,” Arthur replies, lying back onto the bed, his hands on Merlin's thighs.
“Right,” Merlin agrees. “More pressingly though, I sincerely hope you have lube and condoms, because I don't.”
That, Arthur has to think about. “I might?” Merlin groans, thumping his forehead on Arthur's chest.
“This is not exactly how I imagined tonight would go,” he mumbles.
It's not exactly what Arthur had in mind either, but all setbacks aside, he's still quite happy to have a half naked Merlin on top of him. He tilts Merlin's chin up. “We don't have to-“ he starts.
“No, no, no, don't get me wrong, I want to,” Merlin interrupts quickly, “I just... I mean, it's stupid I know, but... You know how, when you're looking forward to something...”
“You were looking forward to this?” Arthur asks, grinning.
Merlin rolls his eyes. “Don't let it go to your head. Anyway, you always imagine how it will be and, in your mind, it's perfect, right? But then it happens and, well, it's...”
“Nowhere near as satisfying as you thought it would be?” Arthur offers. He knows exactly how Merlin feels.
“Not perfect,” Merlin corrects mildly.
Arthur takes a deep breath. His palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn't think he's felt this awkward being in bed with someone since he was 19 and didn't know how to tell Sophia that the reason he couldn't get it up was because she wasn't his very fit male roommate.
Merlin clears his throat. “So, wanna start this over? We can pretend this all never happened and we somehow magically ended up naked together.”
“We seem to do that a lot,” Arthur comments. Then adds, “Start over. Not... end up naked.”
“Hmm, you're right. We should work on that,” Merlin replies as he climbs off of Arthur's lap. Arthur watches him take off what is left of his clothes until he's standing naked by the bed, his hands on his hips. Admirably, he's still most of the way hard, Arthur notices. He doesn't even pretend that he's not staring. Merlin does a little spin. “Like what you see?” he teases.
“Eh, you're not bad,” Arthur answers.
Merlin rolls his eyes, but he's still smiling. “If you're quite done ogling me,” he says, “you should consider telling me where to find those condoms and lube you might have,” he reaches down and pulls Arthur up by his hand, “and getting naked.”
Arthur lets the momentum carry him until he's crowding into Merlin's personal space. He leans in and kisses Merlin, bites at his bottom lip and sucks on it before pulling away enough for Merlin to see his face. “If I still have condoms,” Merlin's eyes are glued to his face, but Merlin's hands are a whole different story, pushing Arthur's shirt off his shoulders and making quick work of his belt, “they're in the cabinet behind the mirror in the bathroom. Probably on the left.”
“Mmm,” Merlin hums, hooking a finger in one of the now empty belt loops and pulling Arthur close. Arthur's skin tingles pleasantly where it touches Merlin's; their foreheads bump, and then their noses and Arthur feels the head of Merlin's cock brushing against his lower stomach. His own cock stirs in response again. Merlin kisses him briefly, just a press of lips, then starts moving away, his finger still looped in Arthur's pants, like he almost doesn't want to leave. “Okay,” he says suddenly, sounding determined. He breathes out a long breath and looks directly at Arthur. “I'll get the condoms from the bathroom, you get the lube and lose the clothes and I'll meet you here in a minute. And then no more distractions. And we never talk about how long it took us to get our sit together. Deal?”
Arthur grins. “Deal,” he agrees. His trousers are already on the floor before Merlin's even gotten to the bathroom, and his briefs follow quickly. He crawls over the bed to the other side to dig through the top drawer of the nightstand. The half-empty bottle of lube is not difficult to find.
“I can't believe neither of us thought to be prepared,” he hears Merlin complain from the bathroom as he rummages around through rattling bottles of pills in Arthur's cabinet.
Arthur chuckles to the pillows he's propping up against the wall to make himself more comfortable. He settles against them, quickly pours some lube onto his hand and pulls on his cock, a firm grip and slow slide until he's fully hard. He leaves his hand loosely wrapped around the base.
He looks towards the open bathroom door; all he can see is Merlin's foot, hovering over the floor - he's probably at the top shelf, the one that's a little too high up for Arthur to properly reach which would be a bad sign, if Merlin weren't making a eureka type sound. Arthur laughs again, shaking his head. It's a bit of a ridiculous situation really, and it's far from the sexiest, most romantic evening he's ever experienced, but when Merlin emerges from the bathroom waving around a small box victoriously, Arthur thinks he really doesn't have much to complain about.
“Now,” Merlin says, throwing the box at Arthur and then following it, climbing onto Arthur's lap again, his hand smoothly running over Arthur's thigh to give his cock two light strokes before sliding up to Arthur's shoulder so Merlin can easily lean over him, “where were we?”
Merlin is still finding his balance on top of Arthur when Arthur grabs him by the back of his neck and pulls him down to kiss him. Merlin falls on top of him smiling, but is quick to return the kiss, teasing at first, then deeper, more purposeful. Arthur strokes the back of Merlin's neck with his thumb, his other hand resting on Merlin's lower back, while Merlin keeps himself up with one hand on Arthur's shoulder while the other ghosts over Arthur's ribs and stomach. Merlin holds Arthur's bottom lip between his teeth, pulling on it when he angles his head down to look between their bodies. He hums approvingly, making Arthur look down as well. With only the one lamp on, it's still rather dark in the room, but Arthur can clearly see when Merlin move just that bit to the right and suddenly everything aligns perfectly, Merlin's body fitting in with Arthur's like it was meant to be there. When Merlin rolls his hips the next time, dragging his cock over Arthur's in one slow push, Arthur moans. He tips Merlin's head up again and kisses him with all he's got.
Merlin rolls his hips in a slow rhythm, every drag of their cocks together pulling a quiet, breathy moan from Arthur, who's quickly moving on from holding Merlin close to palming Merlin's ass. Merlin is the one who breaks the kiss, nipping at Arthur's lips and moving just enough to be able to see between them while still keeping their foreheads touching. Arthur is not as fascinated with watching their bodies moving together as he is fascinated with examining Merlin's face, the slight frown marring his forehead, his spit-shined lips parted as Merlin pants lightly, the beads of sweat on his hairline.
Arthur nudges Merlin's nose with his own, successfully getting Merlin's attention so Merlin looks at him, dragging his eyes to Arthur's face like it physically pains him to do so, his eyes half-closed and unfocused. “Hmmm?” he hums questioningly.
“You, um, like to watch?” Arthur asks awkwardly between two noisy breaths that he drags in when Merlin pushes down into him harder.
“Yeah, it's, ooooh, it's...” Merlin looks directly into Arthur's eyes, his rhythm faltering a little. “I used to get off on sounds,” he says quietly, “but now... Watching is a, hm, a second best.”
“Oh.” Arthur frowns, his hand falling to Merlin's hip. He squeezes it, lets his thumb trace the jutting bone. “Let's watch then.”
Merlin smiles tentatively at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Arthur grins back. He yanks the pillows out from under his back and lies flat down on the bed. The dim light spills over them, making every dip and raise of their bodies more clearly visible.
Merlin dives down, kissing the corner of Arthur's lips and mumbling, “Thanks,” while one of his hands searches through the mess they've made of Arthur's sheets. He sits back up, triumphantly raising a hand wrapped around the bottle of lube.
Arthur watches as Merlin squeezes some of the clear cream onto his hand, which he then wraps around them both, giving it an experimental pull. The first touch is strange, the lube still cold, Merlin's hands warm and his grip uncertain, but Merlin is a quick study and it doesn't take him too long to find a good angle at which he can easily and effectively jerk them both. His hold on them gets firmer and he starts twisting his hand at the heads; Arthur's hands on Merlin's thighs ball up into fists and he starts to push up into Merlin's hand. Merlin moans loudly, his hips also snapping forward; the feel of Merlin's cock rubbing against his own in the tight circle of Merlin's fingers has Arthur's heart beating faster. Merlin hasn't looked away from his hand since he wrapped it around them and looking now, Arthur can see the appeal - the way Merlin's hand moves slowly and surely over their slick cocks, the ripple of muscles in Merlin's legs whenever Merlin fucks up into his own fist and Arthur can see why Merlin likes to watch.
Except when he looks up, Merlin is not watching, he's staring at Arthur's face and their eyes meet. Merlin makes a quiet strangled noise before he closes his eyes and gives their cocks one last squeeze, then lets go. He kneels up, putting some distance between them. Arthur arches off the bed, instinctively following, but Merlin stops him by shoving the bottle of lube into his hand. Arthur raises his eyebrows.
“Can you? I know it's an awkward angle.” Merlin looks at his own hand, still sticky, makes a face, then wipes it on the sheets.
“Oi,” Arthur complains, shoving at Merlin's shoulder.
Merlin grins at him mischievously. “Please, they were done with anyway,” he says. His voice is lower and a little hoarse and he's breathing through his mouth. Arthur thinks he can get over the sheets, maybe.
He sleeks his fingers. Merlin's right, the angle is completely wrong and Arthur can't see a damn thing so all he has to go on is what he can feel under his fingertips. He starts by pressing two just behind Merlin's balls, probing a little, listening for the little noises falling from Merlin's lips. He looks at Merlin's face, expecting to find Merlin's eyes closed, but Merlin is actually looking back, his eyes glassy and shiny and dark in the awful light. Arthur finds he can't look away.
He runs his fingers up, then back down Merlin's crack, almost as a warning, before feeling out for Merlin's hole. He doesn't push in, just presses at the muscle, and prods with one finger. Merlin's eyelids flutter almost closed, but he doesn't look away. Arthur takes that as his cue, putting more pressure until the muscle under his finger gives. The only reaction he gets is a quiet ooh. He waits until Merlin gives him a small nod before he starts to move his finger in and out. This time Merlin's oohs are louder.
Still not breaking eye contact, Merlin reaches down and gives Arthur's cock a few slow pulls. He stops, almost like he's forgetting, when Arthur adds another finger and Merlin grunts, his knees parting a little further when he pushes back against Arthur's hand. Arthur knows it's a sign, but he deliberately leaves his fingers still, smirking up at Merlin.
“Oh, come on,” Merlin whines, apparently easily interpreting the look on Arthur's face, since he starts to fuck himself on Arthur's fingers, his hand on Arthur's cock moving again. Arthur's arm hurts from the way it's twisted, but he's too immersed in watching Merlin move on top of him to do anything about it. There's a blush creeping up Merlin's neck to his cheeks and his thighs are already shaking and the noises he makes are stuck between frustrated groans and obscene moans. Arthur takes pity on him, shoves his fingers inside roughly and curls them slowly, experimentally until Merlin shudders with a strangled cry. Arthur rubs against the same spot again and Merlin squeezes around him. “More,” he breathes. He presses his thumb under the head of Arthur's cock then drags it up to the slit, distracting Arthur. “More,” he repeats.
Arthur easily slips the third finger inside. This time he doesn't wait, pulling his fingers out and pushing them back in immediately, speeding the movement up. Merlin rewards him with a high-pitched sound that comes through his nose. He tries to push back, but his thighs give out and he falls on top of Arthur, bracing himself with both of his hands on Arthur's chest. Arthur's fingers slip out of Merlin's ass with a wet sound and Merlin hisses, displeased. Arthur tries to placate him by fondling his balls with the hand still stuck between them, but Merlin is already sitting up and batting Arthur's arm away.
“No,” he says, “enough, fuck me already.” Arthur wants to say something back, but all that comes out of his mouth is a pathetic needy little sound. He's rather beginning to like Merlin's bossiness.
Merlin crouches over him, steadying himself with a hand on Arthur's bicep. Arthur grabs Merlin's forearm to help him. It's an odd gesture of support, but he likes it. He lets the fingers of his free hand ghost over Merlin's ankle. With his free hand, Merlin fishes a condom out of the box, lying forgotten on the pillows, rips the foil with his teeth and slips the condom on Arthur expertly (Arthur tries not to think that Merlin's done this before, done it many times, because he hasn't done it with Arthur and that makes it different). He locks eyes with Arthur briefly, reassurance Arthur thinks, before his arm disappears behind him. He holds the base of Arthur's cock and guides the head between his cheeks, rubbing it over his hole and humming appreciatively. Arthur bites his bottom lip to distract himself from the overwhelming urge to just push up into Merlin.
Merlin pumps Arthur's cock a few times, then wraps two fingers just under the head. He sinks down, taking just the tip in, then lets it slip out. Arthur watches Merlin's face, looking for signs of discomfort, but he doesn't think he finds any. Merlin's eyes are closed and his mouth is open, his brows drawn together, but he doesn't look like he's in pain. He pushes down again, this time taking the whole head in and moans loudly. Arthur just barely resists arching off the bed. Merlin takes in a little more of Arthur, then sits up again so that Arthur’s cock slips out of his body again. They both groan at the feeling but for different reasons, Arthur suspects.
Merlin opens his eyes, looking a little bashful. “My favourite part,” he admits, guiding Arthur's cock back inside slowly, his eyes closing again and his head falling back. This time he only pauses before sliding all the way down. Arthur watches as his cock disappears into Merlin's body easily. Above him, Merlin whispers, “Oh my god.” He squirms around on Arthur's lap, finding a more comfortable position and grinding his hips down into Arthur's at different angles, every move dragging a moan louder than the one before it out of him. Arthur's hips are already stuttering upwards and he has to focus to make sure his hands stroking Merlin's inner thighs are gentle. And then Merlin just lets his legs fall open around Arthur and sinks all the way down, taking Arthur’s cock even deeper and Arthur can't not grab at Merlin's sides with a groan at that. Merlin scratches at Arthur's stomach, like he's grabbing for the clothes that are no longer there and mumbles, “Come 'ere.”
He looks wrecked, Arthur decides, taking a long look of the picture before him and committing it to memory before sitting up. They're so close like this, Merlin's damp hair brushing Arthur’s forehead and Merlin's warm breath ghosting over Arthur's lips; the intimacy of the position is overwhelming - Arthur closes his eyes and buries his face in Merlin's neck, tasting the salty sweat under his tongue. He holds Merlin close with arms wrapped tightly around his back. Merlin's body angles towards him and slides closer easily when Arthur hugs him tighter and he hears Merlin curse softly in his ear. Merlin wraps his arms around Arthur's shoulders, one of his hands tangling into Arthur's hair. It gives him just enough purchase to start moving, rocking up and down. There isn't a lot of space to move at all, not enough for anything more than shallow thrusts and grinding, but Arthur can feel every flex of muscle, every push and pull and drag of Merlin's body against his, he can feel Merlin like Merlin's an extension of himself, like they're both melting and mingling and become one, and it's, well, it's different. A little intimidating in its intensity, but not bad.
Arthur can barely even breathe, his face squished as it is against Merlin's shoulder, and Merlin doesn't sound much better, panting harshly into Arthur’s ear. “Show me,” he says between breaths, “come on, show me, please.” He tugs on Arthur’s hair gently. Arthur lets it happen, lets his head follow the motion and lets Merlin turn his face up so they're looking at each other. Merlin strokes the side of Arthur's face gently, like he thinks maybe he can break Arthur if he's any rougher, and makes the prettiest sound, and then that's all Arthur can take. He surges up and kisses Merlin, a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, broken by their pants and moans; he grabs at Merlin's shoulders, digs his heels into the bed and starts to fuck up into Merlin fast and rough. Merlin melts against him, his whole body relaxing, and Arthur gives up any control he had left.
It's not long after that; Arthur's thigh are beginning to burn from the exertion, and he's holding on to Merlin so hard that his fingers are beginning to cramp, and he thinks he may stay permanently glued to Merlin, and he still can't stop, not even long enough to change the position. Merlin's mouth is slack against his, his tongue lazily playing with Arthur’s through the broken little sounds he keeps breathing into Arthur's mouth, and that's when Arthur can't take it anymore, he pulls Merlin down onto his cock as he pushes up and all the air leaves his lungs as he comes. He rides it out with a few more slow thrusts, grunting against Merlin's cheek as his head falls to rest on Merlin's shoulder.
When the ringing in his ears stops, he becomes aware of the fact that Merlin is talking. “Keep going,” he's saying, Arthur realizes when he focuses a little. He opens his eyes and sees that Merlin is jerking himself off fast, his hand moving furiously over his flushed cock. Arthur gives an experimental thrust up, delighting in the way it makes Merlin's hand stutter. He's tired, but still mostly hard so he fucks Merlin slowly, gently, a contrast to the way Merlin is touching himself which seems to be working. He can't manage it for long though, so instead he covers Merlin's hand with his own, lacing their fingers and letting Merlin guide him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Merlin hisses in his ear moments before his whole body seizes up and he spills over Arthur's chest, a few drops landing on Arthur's chin. “Fuck,” he breathes again when he finishes. He pulls himself up a little so Arthur's no soft cock slips out of him with an awful wet noise. Merlin makes a face, but Arthur chuckles. “That,” Merlin says, his voice breaking on the word. He laughs breathlessly, licks his lips. “That,” he tries again; he only sounds moderately less like he's just been thoroughly fucked, “was actually pretty good.”
Arthur snorts. “Worth repeating?”
Merlin leans in to kiss him, a sweet and chaste brush of lips. “Maybe,” he whispers, pulling back. His breathing is still not back to normal though. Arthur steals another kiss before Merlin can roll over to the bed and let Arthur get up.
“Ugh, I'm a mess,” Arthur complains, looking down at himself. He stands up and heads for the bathroom to clean up.
“Sorry!” Merlin yells cheerful after him. He doesn't sound sorry at all.
~*~
Merlin leans into Arthur heavily as they walk through the park. Arthur pulls him in closer with the arm around his waist.
“You know, I appreciate the romantic aspect of this,” Merlin says, turning his head and kissing the side of Arthur's neck, “but I hope to god you are not talking to me.”
Arthur turns so his lips are just brushing Merlin's forehead and mouths, “I'm not.”
“Good,” Merlin replies. “Not in the mood for talking anyway.”
They walk in silence until Merlin asks Arthur to take him back home. It's not exactly uncomfortable, but it is frustrating because while Arthur understands that Merlin is missing Gwaine (who was only too happy to accept a job on a cruiser and sailed out 11 days ago), he wants Merlin focused on him. It's selfish, and he can hear Morgana's voice in his head lecturing him, so he doesn't say anything, but he can't help wishing Merlin and Gwaine perhaps weren't that close, wishing Merlin was in the same stupidly romantic mood as him. He sighs. Merlin doesn't appear to notice.
Arthur parks the car in front of Merlin's building. Even though they've been dating for almost five weeks now, Arthur has never been in Merlin's apartment. He's driven Merlin home many times, but Merlin's never invited him in. Arthur tries not to be offended. He gets out of the car and goes over to the other side to open Merlin's door, but Merlin is already closing the door himself.
“Told you, not a 17th century lady you need to court,” he teases. He looks tired, Arthur suddenly notices, the dimmed lights casting deep shadows over his face and showing the bags under his eyes. Any irritation Arthur might have been feeling disappears when he pulls Merlin into a hug. “Come up with me, please,” Merlin mumbles into Arthur's chest. Arthur nods excessively, knowing Merlin will feel the movement. Merlin's arms snake around Arthur, pressing tightly against his back, like Merlin is trying to hide inside him.
It's weird, because Merlin is a little taller than him and is actually quite strong; feeling Merlin shake in his arms is not something Arthur likes. He doesn't let go of Merlin until they're up on the third floor and Merlin is unlocking the door to his apartment. It's a small place, but being on two levels makes it appear larger, leaving the entire bottom level for a spacious living room with just a small cooking and dining area. Merlin locks the door behind them and touches two switches to the side of the door. The first one has the lights on, but nothing happens when Merlin presses the second one.
“It's for the…I call them notice lights,” Merlin answers the unvoiced question. “My doorbell and phone and, really, everything that relies on sound is connected to a light bulb that informs me something is happening.”
Arthur looks around and sees little light bulbs all over the apartment, in places that can be seen easily but where there's no need for extra light. He admires the creative solution Merlin's come up with.
“Gwaine installed it for me,” Merlin says, taking off his hoodie and draping it over a chair. Arthur watches as his muscles move under the relatively tight black t-shirt he's wearing. He wants to reach out and trace every line of Merlin's body with his fingers and lips and tongue, but instead he just bows his head and takes off his shoes. He's not sure what Merlin wants him to do there, so he stands next to a coffee table, confused. “I'm gonna take a shower,” Merlin tells him, looking over at Arthur. A fond smile lights up his face and he steps forward to give Arthur a chaste kiss on the lips. “Make yourself comfortable,” he whispers before leaving.
Arthur briefly considers following him upstairs, but decides against it simply because he doesn't quite feel comfortable enough to do that and risk crossing some boundaries he is not aware of. He sits on the beige two-seat sofa. It's soft and comfortable and Arthur feels like he's sinking into a cloud, sitting on it. It's only when he has to sit back up to take the remote form the coffee table that he realizes just how tired he is. He turns the TV on to something random (it's not his fault his fingers just so happen to stop working when he sees Police Women of Broward County). He hopes Merlin won't mind his sleeping on the sofa because he doesn't think he could get out of it if his life depended on it. His legs are tingling and his back hurts, god damn it. He wants to put his feet up, but he's been raised better than to put them on someone's table, no matter how inviting it is. Then he notices an ottoman stashed under the coffee table. He sends a silent blessing to Gwaine's terrible habits and Merlin's desire to please.
He wonders how tired Merlin must be when he comes home at the end of a long day. It must be even more difficult for him, Arthur reasons. Not just because he's living in a world that is not always ready for him, but even more so because he knows Merlin tries so hard to always be cheerful, to never let anything bring him down, which must be difficult. Arthur has been there and he knows what Merlin is doing. Pretend long and hard enough and you become who you pretend to be. It's a sound logic, but it's exhausting, Arthur should know. That's how he became as strong as everyone thinks he is. He wonders how much of the Merlin he's seeing is actually him and how much is a mask. One day, Merlin will tell him, he concludes. It's just how Merlin is, and that much Arthur knows is real.
His feet now up and his body in a mostly reclined position, Arthur is much more comfortable. Also, much less likely to stay awake. His head lolls back against the sofa and he only vaguely continues to follow the chase on the screen. He can feel that he's drifting off to the faint sound of Merlin's shower.
When he startles awake he's still on the sofa. There's a soft brown blanket over him and he's somehow managed to lose his pants. Merlin is pressed to his side, snoring softly, his temple resting against Arthur's and his hand on Arthur's arm. Arthur decides he doesn't have to get up yet.
~*~
Gwen licks the sauce off her finger. Arthur has given up on chopsticks and is now cleaning out his container of Chinese takeout with a fork. He finishes his wine; he's lost count on how many glasses he's had. Gwen is swirling her whiskey a little shakily.
“It's weird when Morgana is not around, isn't it?” she comments. “Feels emptier somehow.”
“It is emptier,” Arthur says with a laugh, “she packs like she's travelling around the world and not to the country next door.”
“Oh, you know what I mean,” Gwen drawls. She's beginning to slur her words, which Arthur finds very funny. “Oh, have I told you? Lancelot is going to Nepal next week. Fucking Doctors Without Borders.”
Arthur takes the wine bottle from the table and goes to fill his glass, then thinks better of it and takes a pull directly from the bottle. He's not sure why he ever even drinks with Gwen, she's such a solemn, morose drunk. He just wants to laugh and cuddle when he's buzzed on alcohol.
“We're probably gonna do a goodbye party. I assume you'll be there?”
“Yeah, just tell me when and where,” he replies. He likes Lancelot. Lancelot is fun.
She nods and then knocks back the rest of her drink. “So you and Merlin? How's that?” she asks, looking at the bottom of her tumbler like it holds the answer to the meaning of life. The thick glass makes her face look disproportionate, it's funny.
“It's good,” Arthur says, dragging out the last syllable. “Gwaine's in town again for a few days. They're going out tonight.” Arthur kind of wishes he was with them. He loves Gwen, he does, but Merlin is always so warm and pliant and ready to cuddle. And Gwaine is, well, he's a teddy bear. Arthur can't imagine he wouldn't be down with joining in a group hug or something more. Arthur wouldn't mind, Gwaine is nice and fun and attractive and he smells good. He's sure Merlin would like Gwaine to join them, he thinks a little bitterly.
“Arthur Pendragon, are you jealous?” Gwen gawks at him reaching blindly to the side and grabbing the whiskey bottle.
“I am not jealous.”
“Aww, you are so jealous,” Gwen giggles, also deciding to do away with the glass.
“Yeah, all right, maybe a little,” Arthur admits, taking a long gulp from his bottle. He wishes Merlin was there so they could sit close together and kiss and hug and maybe make out. Yes, that would be nice. He scoots closer to Gwen until their sides are touching. She puts an arm around his shoulders. “I'm not jealous that he's... spending time with Merlin or anything. And I don't think something will happen between them, I mean, I trust Merlin and he says they're over, but...” He thinks about it. “Gwaine knows more about my own boyfriend than I do,” he complains. It sounds like he has a hot potato in his mouth. He laughs.
“Well, ask Merlin stuff... and things,” she suggests.
“I don't want him to feel like... I'm questioning him or something?” He snuggles closer to Gwen. The bottle of wine is slipping from his fingers so he puts it down. He feels a bit like a baby - he's eaten, he's drunk and now he's sleepy.
“Or you know, maybe it doesn't really matter,” Gwen continues like he didn't say anything, “maybe Merlin doesn't care if you don't know stuff about him. Maybe he cares if you know him. And you have to remember - he's with you; he chose you. It's an important thing, to be chosen.”
“I'm way too drunk for this conversation,” Arthur moans.
~*~