Merlin Fic: A Lamb With The Thoughts Of A Tiger (Merlin/Arthur; NC17)
Title: A Lamb With The Thoughts Of A Tiger
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Word Count: 2761
Prompt(s): Written for Em (who wanted Sub!Merlin bent over a table) and for the prompt 'table' at lover100.
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Explicit sexual content and language.
Summary: Canon divergence of the beginning of 4x12, because there was a whole 'nother way that scene could have gone.
AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/749461
Merlin drew in a breath, clutching the belt tighter in his hands with every step that Arthur took towards him. He tried not to let his eyes drift down but the closer Arthur got the harder that became until he just gave in and let his eyes cast themselves down. He hoped Arthur took that as a sign of respect and submission rather than as a sign his servant was staring at his bare legs.
Merlin felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced up in time just to see Arthur's face before he was turned around and the belt was pulled from his hands. For a second he thought, almost wished, Arthur was going to hold him there but he let him go. As he turned, his eyes were drawn again to the fact Arthur didn't deem it necessary to wear breeches while manhandling him. A habit he hoped Arthur hadn't noticed.
"What's that look for?" Arthur asked him when he finally raised his eyes.
Merlin blinked, not sure what the look on his face had been, let alone how to explain it. "What look? I don't have a look."
"You had a look," Arthur said. "The look of an animal seeing a crossbow. Skittish, guilty even."
"No, don't know what you're talking about," Merlin said, glancing away. "You should finish getting dressed, sire."
"What is it?" Arthur asked with a tone of very little patience.
"Nothing, nothing at all," Merlin shook his head, begging his thoughts not to be reflected on his face. Or anywhere else for that matter.
"Merlin."
"I just... misread the situation for a moment,” Merlin admitted, half telling the full truth. He’d hoped the situation would have been different, was what he had really been thinking.
"What did you think I was going to do?" Arthur asked, shaking his head in despair.
Bend me over the table? Merlin thought but all he could trust himself with was a shrug.
"I wasn't going to hurt you, Merlin. Well, not over a belt at least," Arthur mused, looking at the belt.
"I never thought you would," Merlin replied. "You much prefer to throw things from a distance."
"I can always change my mind if you don’t hurry up," Arthur said, giving him a stern look before turning away. They'd wasted enough time already and he was still standing around only half dressed, discussing the finer points of physically...
"Hold on," Arthur turned mid step, catching Merlin as his eyes darted up from his arse to his face again. "Did you think..."
"No," Merlin said, a little too quickly.
"I haven't even said it yet," Arthur complained, retracing his steps back to Merlin. "Did you think that was meant to be..."
"Strangely intimate bordering on blatantly sexual?" Merlin finished for him.
"Yes."
"No."
"Really?"
"Only slightly."
"Honestly Merlin, do you think if I were going to have you over my dining table that I would choose a time when we're already running late enough as it is?" Arthur asked rhetorically.
"I think if you were going to have me over your dining table that I wouldn't be thinking at all about how late we were going to be," Merlin answered without hesitation, his mouth working faster than his brain.
Arthur pulled a face; he hadn't been expecting an answer at all, let alone one as candid as Merlin's had been. "You sound like you've put a lot of thought into the matter?"
"Not really."
"Merlin."
"Perhaps a little."
Arthur looked Merlin up and down, sure that they shouldn't be having this conversation. "I should get dressed."
"Oh, do you have to?" Merlin said aloud, still without thinking.
"Well, yes, I can't go to a banquet like this, can I?" Arthur gestured down at his legs and Merlin’s eyes followed.
"We're already running late..." Merlin trailed off, not sure how he was steering this moment but not at all hating where it was going.
"What are you suggesting?"
"Nothing... you could go to the banquet, sure," Merlin cast his eyes down again, playing on the effect it might have. "Or you could just...have me on your dining table?"
"Are you being serious?" Arthur asked, painfully aware that he wasn’t dismissing the idea out of hand. But at the same time, if it was a joke at his expense...
"You were the one that nearly bent me over it,” Merlin said, glancing back over his shoulder at the table.
"I did not nearly bend you over it."
"That's a matter of opinion."
"I didn't bend you over the table!" Arthur protested grabbing hold of Merlin's collar and spinning him again. "Look, this would be bending you over the table."
He pushed Merlin down onto the table, trying to ignore the entirely inappropriate thrill it gave him.
"Fine. But now we're both agreed that you have bent me over a table."
"Well now I have but..."
"So, why not..." Merlin started but Arthur's hand began to drift down his spine, distracting him from his proposition.
"Because we're late already," Arthur said and Merlin couldn't help but notice a touch of regret in his voice.
"You're the King, they will wait for you," Merlin pointed out, attempting to stand just to see what would happen. Arthur's hand stayed firm on his back, pushing him back down onto the surface of the table.
"Or I could leave you here like this and you could wait for me,” Arthur pointed out and Merlin closed his eyes, pressing his cheek into the grain of the wood.
“For someone else to come and find, you mean?”
“No, good point. We couldn’t have that, could we?” Arthur pushed up the hem of Merlin’s shirt, not entirely sure how he’d gotten from trying to get dressed to thinking about undressing Merlin. “And if I was, hypothetically, going to bend my servant over a table and have my way with him, we couldn’t have the whole court knowing, could we?”
“You wouldn’t believe the secrets I can keep,” Merlin answered. “Not just hypothetical ones either.”
Arthur took his hand away from Merlin’s back and Merlin bit his lip, disappointed. It was a nice fantasy while it lasted though, he told himself.
“Get up,” Arthur prompted him and Merlin stood, about to turn and brush the whole discussion off when Arthur grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled it over his head.
“Am I right in thinking this is no longer hypothetical?” He asked as Arthur shoved him roughly back down, his hands catching the platter of grapes and sending it flying. “Oops. I guess I’ll have to clean that up later. Shame though.”
“Merlin,” Arthur said, running his nails down Merlin’s back until he stopped talking. “Shut up.”
“Yes, sire,” Merlin said, arching his back up in response.
Arthur closed his eyes, feeling the muscles of Merlin's back curl and tense under his fingers. Was this really happening, was he really going to do this? His hand trailed downwards, over Merlin's arse until his legs trembled under him with the apprehension. Arthur sighed; he couldn't have him even if he wanted to. It wasn't like it was with a woman, no matter how hard he teased, Merlin's body wouldn't want to accommodate him. Men needed extra measures to be taken so readily and that required forethought, something he certainly hadn't had.
Merlin shifted his hips, angling his arse up as though he was thinking the very same thoughts. "Top draw of your dresser."
"What?" Arthur asked, brought out of his reverie.
"If you're going to have me over your table, you'll be wanting what I've got hidden in your top draw," Merlin turned his head towards the dresser.
"You've been hiding things in my chambers?" Arthur asked, following Merlin's eye line. "What if I'd found it?"
"Like you'd ever get yourself dressed," Merlin said with a laugh.
"Don't you dare move," Arthur commanded him, not able to think up a better response.
He left Merlin spread over the table and approached his dressed, pulling open the top draw and smiling to himself when he pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid, returning the belt to its proper place while he was there.
"What is it?" Arthur asked, not well versed in the more delicate details of what Merlin was suggesting they do. What he was agreeing to alarmingly easily.
"You're better off not knowing," Merlin said, pulling a face. He'd had to improvise some of the advised contents and adapt the whole idea from something decidedly more surgical. Talking about it wasn't likely to leave one wanting to use it.
"I'll take your word for it, what do I do with it?" Arthur asked, turning the bottle over and not finding any hint of instructions.
"What do you think you do with it?" Merlin asked, rolling his eyes. "Come here."
Arthur looked up from the bottle, Merlin's tone surprising him slightly in its forwardness. He walked back over to him, placing the bottle on the table beside his eyes.
"As you were," Merlin said, bringing himself up to rest on his elbows.
Arthur returned his hands to Merlin's back, this time running them around his hips and down under his stomach, coming to rest over the distinctly hard press of Merlin's cock against his breeches. His fingers teased over its outline, stroking against the unforgiving material until Merlin bucked his hips forward, put back in his place by Arthur's touch.
Arthur slipped his hand under the laces, loosening them with his other hand as he went, his fingers working them as his palm worked Merlin's cock. When his breeches fell to the floor, Arthur’s free hand moved back over Merlin's arse teasing him with feather light touches that didn't linger long enough.
"Hands?" Merlin asked, giving in and grabbing the bottle.
Arthur obliged, reaching his hands forward and letting Merlin pour half the contents of the bottle on Arthur's right hand. "That one's for me, just do what you're used to, you can't be far off..."
Arthur took his hand back, placing the other one on the table top for balance. He thought back to his fumbles with women; sure that was what Merlin was referring to. Perhaps it wasn't that different.
He brought a finger up to Merlin's hole, teasing around that in the place of how he'd usually tease a woman's cunt. When he pushed inside, he found he was wrong, it was entirely different to a woman, it was tighter, making him fight for every movement. But Merlin still drew in that first hitched breath, just like a woman would and when he pushed back towards him, Arthur was reassured, repeating the movement until the tightness stopped fighting him.
"More?" Arthur asked, just a bit resentful that he had to take instruction from Merlin in this matter. But then, it was him in control and Merlin pressed against the table in submission, so he could live with it.
"Yes, more," Merlin answered, his voice strained, making Arthur just that bit more pleased with the situation. Merlin was fighting to string words together and that had to be a good thing. Not to mention a rarity.
Arthur pushed two fingers together, returning them to their place inside Merlin.
"Pull them apart," Merlin instructed, lifting himself off his elbows onto his hands and turning to look at Arthur over his shoulder. "As much as you can manage."
"Like that?" Arthur asked, doing as Merlin said.
"Yes and again, keep going" Merlin nodded. His back was starting to get tight from how he was holding himself up but he couldn't stand and he couldn't stretch himself over the table, not yet. He had to guide Arthur, to make all this go smoothly, to make sure Arthur would come back wanting more.
When Arthur seemed to have the hang of what he was doing, nobody could ever fault him for being a slow learner, Merlin turned back towards the table, folding his arms and resting his head against them, content as a cat. He was caught entirely off-guard when Arthur changed the angle of his fingers, accidentally catching his prostate and sending a sweet shock through him. Seemingly aware of it effects, Arthur repeated the movement, over and over until Merlin was scrabbling at the table for purchase and moaning like a common whore.
Rather liking the sight, Arthur leaned over him, moving in close to his body and talking into his ear. "Would you like me to have you now?"
"Gods, Arthur, yes, just..." Merlin pushed himself up, reaching for the bottle and nearly knocking it off the table in his haste. He nudged the hand that Arthur had resting on the table with his own, waiting for him to turn it palm up. When he did, Merlin poured the rest of the bottle’s content on to Arthur's palm, watching it spread and drip. "For you."
Arthur nodded, guessing what he should do with it. He ran his hand back and forth over his cock, coating it until there was no friction left whatsoever. He took his fingers out of Merlin, lining his cock up to replace them. His hand found its way back to the small of Merlin's back, pinning him back down as he pushed inside. Again, so much different to what he'd had before, who he'd had before.
Merlin's legs shook with the effort of holding himself still while his body wanted to push back, into Arthur's. It wasn't until he felt the cold press of Arthur's mail against his arse that he let himself go, let himself push back to meet him. He reached out to the sides, grabbing the edge of the table and pressing himself flush against it as Arthur set a slow but hard pace, the tops of his thighs hitting the wood hard enough with each movement that he was sure he'd have some pretty unusual bruises by morning.
Arthur's hand moved up his back, reaching up over Merlin's shoulders as far as he could now that he was flattened against the wood. He could just about see Merlin's face, turned to one side, barely off the table. His nails dug into Merlin’s shoulder, wanting to see his face properly, wanting to pull him up but unable to reach. He wanted to reach around for Merlin's cock as well and match the treatment his own was getting but it was trapped between the table and Merlin's body.
He could feel sweat tickling his back, under all of his ceremonial chainmail. He cursed it and cursed himself for not having Merlin take it off of him. Now he'd have to go to the banquet not only late but unkempt too, smelling of sex and sweat, something easily recognized but not as easily explained. The idea of Merlin leaning over him, pouring his wine while smelling of him passed through his mind, making his hips stutter. He was reaching his limits, Merlin's body and Merlin's mouth dragging him to a finish while unbidden thoughts spurred him on.
He leaned forward, almost against Merlin's skin, making Merlin yelp in surprise. He wanted to ask him to stand, to explain what he wanted but words failed him so his hands found their way to Merlin's shoulder and into Merlin's hair, pulling him up sharply until he was as close to standing as he could get with his legs spread so wide. Arthur kept his hand in Merlin's hair, turning his head so that he could press his face to his cheek, kissing as close to his mouth as he could get. His other hand abandoned his shoulder, reaching for his cock and taking it in hand, trying to match his own desperate pace. Merlin's hands reached again to gain purchase on the table, finding it's edge and curling his fingers around it, using it to steady them both when his legs started to fail him, pitching him forward, painting white lines on the table as Arthur's hand tightened around his cock.
"Fuck, Arthur."
Arthur followed Merlin forward, hopelessly trying to keep control of himself as Merlin's body contracted around him, dragging him over the edge and leaving him sprawled over Merlin's body, both of them relying on the table to stop them from falling.
Merlin glanced over his shoulder, smiling to himself. "Well, we’re certainly going to be late now, aren’t we?"
Arthur smiled despite himself, unable to pretend to be annoyed with Merlin's smart mouth, not now he'd heard some of the other things that could come out of it. "They'll wait."
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Word Count: 2761
Prompt(s): Written for Em (who wanted Sub!Merlin bent over a table) and for the prompt 'table' at lover100.
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Explicit sexual content and language.
Summary: Canon divergence of the beginning of 4x12, because there was a whole 'nother way that scene could have gone.
AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/749461
Merlin drew in a breath, clutching the belt tighter in his hands with every step that Arthur took towards him. He tried not to let his eyes drift down but the closer Arthur got the harder that became until he just gave in and let his eyes cast themselves down. He hoped Arthur took that as a sign of respect and submission rather than as a sign his servant was staring at his bare legs.
Merlin felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced up in time just to see Arthur's face before he was turned around and the belt was pulled from his hands. For a second he thought, almost wished, Arthur was going to hold him there but he let him go. As he turned, his eyes were drawn again to the fact Arthur didn't deem it necessary to wear breeches while manhandling him. A habit he hoped Arthur hadn't noticed.
"What's that look for?" Arthur asked him when he finally raised his eyes.
Merlin blinked, not sure what the look on his face had been, let alone how to explain it. "What look? I don't have a look."
"You had a look," Arthur said. "The look of an animal seeing a crossbow. Skittish, guilty even."
"No, don't know what you're talking about," Merlin said, glancing away. "You should finish getting dressed, sire."
"What is it?" Arthur asked with a tone of very little patience.
"Nothing, nothing at all," Merlin shook his head, begging his thoughts not to be reflected on his face. Or anywhere else for that matter.
"Merlin."
"I just... misread the situation for a moment,” Merlin admitted, half telling the full truth. He’d hoped the situation would have been different, was what he had really been thinking.
"What did you think I was going to do?" Arthur asked, shaking his head in despair.
Bend me over the table? Merlin thought but all he could trust himself with was a shrug.
"I wasn't going to hurt you, Merlin. Well, not over a belt at least," Arthur mused, looking at the belt.
"I never thought you would," Merlin replied. "You much prefer to throw things from a distance."
"I can always change my mind if you don’t hurry up," Arthur said, giving him a stern look before turning away. They'd wasted enough time already and he was still standing around only half dressed, discussing the finer points of physically...
"Hold on," Arthur turned mid step, catching Merlin as his eyes darted up from his arse to his face again. "Did you think..."
"No," Merlin said, a little too quickly.
"I haven't even said it yet," Arthur complained, retracing his steps back to Merlin. "Did you think that was meant to be..."
"Strangely intimate bordering on blatantly sexual?" Merlin finished for him.
"Yes."
"No."
"Really?"
"Only slightly."
"Honestly Merlin, do you think if I were going to have you over my dining table that I would choose a time when we're already running late enough as it is?" Arthur asked rhetorically.
"I think if you were going to have me over your dining table that I wouldn't be thinking at all about how late we were going to be," Merlin answered without hesitation, his mouth working faster than his brain.
Arthur pulled a face; he hadn't been expecting an answer at all, let alone one as candid as Merlin's had been. "You sound like you've put a lot of thought into the matter?"
"Not really."
"Merlin."
"Perhaps a little."
Arthur looked Merlin up and down, sure that they shouldn't be having this conversation. "I should get dressed."
"Oh, do you have to?" Merlin said aloud, still without thinking.
"Well, yes, I can't go to a banquet like this, can I?" Arthur gestured down at his legs and Merlin’s eyes followed.
"We're already running late..." Merlin trailed off, not sure how he was steering this moment but not at all hating where it was going.
"What are you suggesting?"
"Nothing... you could go to the banquet, sure," Merlin cast his eyes down again, playing on the effect it might have. "Or you could just...have me on your dining table?"
"Are you being serious?" Arthur asked, painfully aware that he wasn’t dismissing the idea out of hand. But at the same time, if it was a joke at his expense...
"You were the one that nearly bent me over it,” Merlin said, glancing back over his shoulder at the table.
"I did not nearly bend you over it."
"That's a matter of opinion."
"I didn't bend you over the table!" Arthur protested grabbing hold of Merlin's collar and spinning him again. "Look, this would be bending you over the table."
He pushed Merlin down onto the table, trying to ignore the entirely inappropriate thrill it gave him.
"Fine. But now we're both agreed that you have bent me over a table."
"Well now I have but..."
"So, why not..." Merlin started but Arthur's hand began to drift down his spine, distracting him from his proposition.
"Because we're late already," Arthur said and Merlin couldn't help but notice a touch of regret in his voice.
"You're the King, they will wait for you," Merlin pointed out, attempting to stand just to see what would happen. Arthur's hand stayed firm on his back, pushing him back down onto the surface of the table.
"Or I could leave you here like this and you could wait for me,” Arthur pointed out and Merlin closed his eyes, pressing his cheek into the grain of the wood.
“For someone else to come and find, you mean?”
“No, good point. We couldn’t have that, could we?” Arthur pushed up the hem of Merlin’s shirt, not entirely sure how he’d gotten from trying to get dressed to thinking about undressing Merlin. “And if I was, hypothetically, going to bend my servant over a table and have my way with him, we couldn’t have the whole court knowing, could we?”
“You wouldn’t believe the secrets I can keep,” Merlin answered. “Not just hypothetical ones either.”
Arthur took his hand away from Merlin’s back and Merlin bit his lip, disappointed. It was a nice fantasy while it lasted though, he told himself.
“Get up,” Arthur prompted him and Merlin stood, about to turn and brush the whole discussion off when Arthur grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled it over his head.
“Am I right in thinking this is no longer hypothetical?” He asked as Arthur shoved him roughly back down, his hands catching the platter of grapes and sending it flying. “Oops. I guess I’ll have to clean that up later. Shame though.”
“Merlin,” Arthur said, running his nails down Merlin’s back until he stopped talking. “Shut up.”
“Yes, sire,” Merlin said, arching his back up in response.
Arthur closed his eyes, feeling the muscles of Merlin's back curl and tense under his fingers. Was this really happening, was he really going to do this? His hand trailed downwards, over Merlin's arse until his legs trembled under him with the apprehension. Arthur sighed; he couldn't have him even if he wanted to. It wasn't like it was with a woman, no matter how hard he teased, Merlin's body wouldn't want to accommodate him. Men needed extra measures to be taken so readily and that required forethought, something he certainly hadn't had.
Merlin shifted his hips, angling his arse up as though he was thinking the very same thoughts. "Top draw of your dresser."
"What?" Arthur asked, brought out of his reverie.
"If you're going to have me over your table, you'll be wanting what I've got hidden in your top draw," Merlin turned his head towards the dresser.
"You've been hiding things in my chambers?" Arthur asked, following Merlin's eye line. "What if I'd found it?"
"Like you'd ever get yourself dressed," Merlin said with a laugh.
"Don't you dare move," Arthur commanded him, not able to think up a better response.
He left Merlin spread over the table and approached his dressed, pulling open the top draw and smiling to himself when he pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid, returning the belt to its proper place while he was there.
"What is it?" Arthur asked, not well versed in the more delicate details of what Merlin was suggesting they do. What he was agreeing to alarmingly easily.
"You're better off not knowing," Merlin said, pulling a face. He'd had to improvise some of the advised contents and adapt the whole idea from something decidedly more surgical. Talking about it wasn't likely to leave one wanting to use it.
"I'll take your word for it, what do I do with it?" Arthur asked, turning the bottle over and not finding any hint of instructions.
"What do you think you do with it?" Merlin asked, rolling his eyes. "Come here."
Arthur looked up from the bottle, Merlin's tone surprising him slightly in its forwardness. He walked back over to him, placing the bottle on the table beside his eyes.
"As you were," Merlin said, bringing himself up to rest on his elbows.
Arthur returned his hands to Merlin's back, this time running them around his hips and down under his stomach, coming to rest over the distinctly hard press of Merlin's cock against his breeches. His fingers teased over its outline, stroking against the unforgiving material until Merlin bucked his hips forward, put back in his place by Arthur's touch.
Arthur slipped his hand under the laces, loosening them with his other hand as he went, his fingers working them as his palm worked Merlin's cock. When his breeches fell to the floor, Arthur’s free hand moved back over Merlin's arse teasing him with feather light touches that didn't linger long enough.
"Hands?" Merlin asked, giving in and grabbing the bottle.
Arthur obliged, reaching his hands forward and letting Merlin pour half the contents of the bottle on Arthur's right hand. "That one's for me, just do what you're used to, you can't be far off..."
Arthur took his hand back, placing the other one on the table top for balance. He thought back to his fumbles with women; sure that was what Merlin was referring to. Perhaps it wasn't that different.
He brought a finger up to Merlin's hole, teasing around that in the place of how he'd usually tease a woman's cunt. When he pushed inside, he found he was wrong, it was entirely different to a woman, it was tighter, making him fight for every movement. But Merlin still drew in that first hitched breath, just like a woman would and when he pushed back towards him, Arthur was reassured, repeating the movement until the tightness stopped fighting him.
"More?" Arthur asked, just a bit resentful that he had to take instruction from Merlin in this matter. But then, it was him in control and Merlin pressed against the table in submission, so he could live with it.
"Yes, more," Merlin answered, his voice strained, making Arthur just that bit more pleased with the situation. Merlin was fighting to string words together and that had to be a good thing. Not to mention a rarity.
Arthur pushed two fingers together, returning them to their place inside Merlin.
"Pull them apart," Merlin instructed, lifting himself off his elbows onto his hands and turning to look at Arthur over his shoulder. "As much as you can manage."
"Like that?" Arthur asked, doing as Merlin said.
"Yes and again, keep going" Merlin nodded. His back was starting to get tight from how he was holding himself up but he couldn't stand and he couldn't stretch himself over the table, not yet. He had to guide Arthur, to make all this go smoothly, to make sure Arthur would come back wanting more.
When Arthur seemed to have the hang of what he was doing, nobody could ever fault him for being a slow learner, Merlin turned back towards the table, folding his arms and resting his head against them, content as a cat. He was caught entirely off-guard when Arthur changed the angle of his fingers, accidentally catching his prostate and sending a sweet shock through him. Seemingly aware of it effects, Arthur repeated the movement, over and over until Merlin was scrabbling at the table for purchase and moaning like a common whore.
Rather liking the sight, Arthur leaned over him, moving in close to his body and talking into his ear. "Would you like me to have you now?"
"Gods, Arthur, yes, just..." Merlin pushed himself up, reaching for the bottle and nearly knocking it off the table in his haste. He nudged the hand that Arthur had resting on the table with his own, waiting for him to turn it palm up. When he did, Merlin poured the rest of the bottle’s content on to Arthur's palm, watching it spread and drip. "For you."
Arthur nodded, guessing what he should do with it. He ran his hand back and forth over his cock, coating it until there was no friction left whatsoever. He took his fingers out of Merlin, lining his cock up to replace them. His hand found its way back to the small of Merlin's back, pinning him back down as he pushed inside. Again, so much different to what he'd had before, who he'd had before.
Merlin's legs shook with the effort of holding himself still while his body wanted to push back, into Arthur's. It wasn't until he felt the cold press of Arthur's mail against his arse that he let himself go, let himself push back to meet him. He reached out to the sides, grabbing the edge of the table and pressing himself flush against it as Arthur set a slow but hard pace, the tops of his thighs hitting the wood hard enough with each movement that he was sure he'd have some pretty unusual bruises by morning.
Arthur's hand moved up his back, reaching up over Merlin's shoulders as far as he could now that he was flattened against the wood. He could just about see Merlin's face, turned to one side, barely off the table. His nails dug into Merlin’s shoulder, wanting to see his face properly, wanting to pull him up but unable to reach. He wanted to reach around for Merlin's cock as well and match the treatment his own was getting but it was trapped between the table and Merlin's body.
He could feel sweat tickling his back, under all of his ceremonial chainmail. He cursed it and cursed himself for not having Merlin take it off of him. Now he'd have to go to the banquet not only late but unkempt too, smelling of sex and sweat, something easily recognized but not as easily explained. The idea of Merlin leaning over him, pouring his wine while smelling of him passed through his mind, making his hips stutter. He was reaching his limits, Merlin's body and Merlin's mouth dragging him to a finish while unbidden thoughts spurred him on.
He leaned forward, almost against Merlin's skin, making Merlin yelp in surprise. He wanted to ask him to stand, to explain what he wanted but words failed him so his hands found their way to Merlin's shoulder and into Merlin's hair, pulling him up sharply until he was as close to standing as he could get with his legs spread so wide. Arthur kept his hand in Merlin's hair, turning his head so that he could press his face to his cheek, kissing as close to his mouth as he could get. His other hand abandoned his shoulder, reaching for his cock and taking it in hand, trying to match his own desperate pace. Merlin's hands reached again to gain purchase on the table, finding it's edge and curling his fingers around it, using it to steady them both when his legs started to fail him, pitching him forward, painting white lines on the table as Arthur's hand tightened around his cock.
"Fuck, Arthur."
Arthur followed Merlin forward, hopelessly trying to keep control of himself as Merlin's body contracted around him, dragging him over the edge and leaving him sprawled over Merlin's body, both of them relying on the table to stop them from falling.
Merlin glanced over his shoulder, smiling to himself. "Well, we’re certainly going to be late now, aren’t we?"
Arthur smiled despite himself, unable to pretend to be annoyed with Merlin's smart mouth, not now he'd heard some of the other things that could come out of it. "They'll wait."