Fic - The Servant Conundrum

Oct 22, 2011 15:35

Title - The Servant Conundrum
Rating - M
Pairing - Arthur/Merlin
Characters - Arthur, Merlin, Morgana, Gwen
Warnings - angst, first time
Spoilers - S01E02
Disclaimer - Not mine unfortunately, not matter how much I wish.
Summary - Arthur sleeps with Merlin after he fires him in 'Valiant', but won't once he's rehired him. Merlin is not happy.
A/N - Written in response to this prompt at the kinkme_merlin prompt. And for those who picked Merlin in the poll (I am writing stories for the others too, so expect some Smallville and Twilight :)).

If Merlin had known what being fired by Arthur meant, he would’ve taken the other prat’s ‘firings’ more seriously.

Biting his lip to hold in a groan, he lets his hands reach up and tangle in Arthur’s hair, pleasure surging up in him as Arthur thrusts in again, somehow managing to find the right angle, watching him intently as he moves, eyes fluttering shut every now and again.

He’s the most beautiful thing Merlin’s ever seen.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispers, leaning down and taking his mouth in a hard kiss.

Merlin had simply come to try and convince Arthur not to compete in the tournament, knowing that Valiant would use the snakes to kill the Prince. He’d had no idea that Arthur would listen, would believe him and then tell him that he couldn’t forfeit, that it was his duty as the Prince of Camelot to fight.

And then he’d kissed Merlin.

Turning his thoughts away from before, Merlin sinks into the kiss, wondering how much longer he can last, knowing that it won’t be long. He hadn’t ever really thought of Arthur in this sense, hadn’t ever imagined that he could have this, have the beautiful Prat moving in him, looking down at him like he’s something he’s always wanted but thought he could never have.

“Arthur,” he gasps, arching up as the other man’s hand wraps around his cock, the pressure inside him building until he can’t hold onto it any longer, his release coating Arthur’s hand and his own stomach.

His orgasm seems to rip Arthur’s from him, the Prince stilling on top of him, a soft murmur leaving his mouth before he falls onto Merlin. Closing his eyes, Merlin wonders how he’d never thought of this, before remembering that Arthur had pretty much been a prat to him since they’d met.

Arthur seems to move reluctantly off him, laying on his back for a few seconds before looking over at Merlin.

“Stay?” he asks, face back to the perfect mask that he usually wears, and Merlin doesn’t realise until this moment, how much he hates it.

How can he already feel so much for someone he barely knows?

Merlin blames the Dragon for putting all the propaganda about Destiny into his head.

“Okay,” he replies, unable to stop the smile when Arthur beams at him.

**

Merlin is not happy.

It’s been three days since Valiant, since Arthur rehired him, and the Prat is insufferable.

Oh, he’s not acting any different than before, but that’s the problem. Arthur’s acting exactly the same way as he had before Merlin had been fired.

Before Merlin had realised how beautiful Arthur could be.

How he looked when he came.

How he looked when he slept, spooned up against Merlin, smiling softly in the morning and kissing him chastely on the lips, like they’d been doing it for years, and it had felt right, Merlin for once in his life feeling like he belonged exactly where he had been.

But now Arthur was pretending like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t seduced his manservant into his bed and made Merlin want something he hadn’t before.

He really was a prat.

“… and don’t forget my armour, Merlin,” Arthur says, as they walk into his rooms. “It’s not nearly as shiny as it should be.”

Rolling his eyes, Merlin goes about his usual chores, trying to figure out how to get Arthur to snap out of whatever it is that’s stopping him from taking Merlin to his bed again.

“Merlin? Merlin, are you even listening to me?” Arthur asks, folding his arms and glaring at him.

“Metal, shiny, got it,” Merlin replies, before lighting the fire, moving over to help Arthur out of said armour.

Maybe it had been nothing to Arthur, just a warm body to share his bed the night before a tournament. Maybe that’s what Arthur always did? But if he did, Merlin would’ve heard about it by now. One of the girls would’ve told him, or the stable boys, all of them more than eager to pass on gossip about the Lords and Ladies they served.

He’s almost too caught up in his own thoughts to hear the soft intake of breath as he brushes against Arthur’s neck when he starts to disrobe him. Looking up he catches the pink flush spreading across the Prince’s face, as Arthur stares straight ahead.

Slowing his hands, Merlin purposely drags the process out, letting his hands skim against Arthur’s skin much more often than usual, leaning closer, and biting his lip just to see Arthur’s eyes flick down to it, before taking its place back on the wall.

“Arthur,” he murmurs, not missing the huskiness of his voice, or the way Arthur’s pupils are huge when they look at him.

“What is it, Merlin?” Arthur asks, body stiff under Merlin’s hands.

Taking a chance, Merlin leans up, biting Arthur’s jaw before soothing it with his tongue. Arthur lets out a low groan, arching his neck so Merlin can suck along it, their bodies fitting perfectly together as Merlin presses up against him.

He can feel them both responding, and can’t help the grin that crosses his face, before the grin disappears as Arthur steps away.

“You’re dismissed, Merlin,” Arthur says, turning away and moving towards the table.

“What?” Merlin asks, his brain not quiet caught up with what’s happening. “You can’t be serious?”

“I thought you would’ve been glad to have the evening off,” Arthur replies, his back still to Merlin.

“You’re seriously just going to ignore what happened?” Merlin asks incredulously.

“You’re my servant, Merlin,” Arthur answers, looking at him like that means something.

“And?” Merlin replies when Arthur doesn’t continue.

“You’re my servant, Merlin” Arthur repeats, looking at Merlin like he’s an idiot.

Frowning, it takes Merlin a few moments to understand what Arthur is saying. That he won’t sleep with him because he serves Arthur.

“So?” he says, frowning.

Arthur sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“So I won’t take advantage of someone under my service,” Arthur replies, as if it should’ve been obvious. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

“But … but I want it too!” Merlin exclaims.

Arthur pauses for a second, swallowing hard as his eyes flick over Merlin’s body, before he shakes his head.

“You’re dismissed, Merlin,” Arthur repeats.

Snorting, Merlin strides over to the door, feeling only a little satisfaction when he lets it slam shut behind him.

Stupid, chivalrous, prat, he thinks as he walks away.

**

Operation ‘Make Arthur realise what an enormous prat he’s being by not giving in and taking Merlin to bed again’ was going splendidly, up until Prince Mortimer arrived in Camelot and Merlin had realised what Arthur had been on about.

Merlin had gone about his duties without a word of complaint, doing everything perfectly and not saying a word when Arthur was his usual prat self, which had Arthur annoyed and angry. When the Prince had questioned him about what was going on, Merlin had simply raised an eyebrow at him, given Arthur a slow once over and then looked at Arthur again.

Arthur’s cheeks had gone a light pink, the flush making its way down his neck, and lust flashing across his face, before the Prince had cleared his throat and said that he had somewhere else to be. Merlin couldn’t help the grin as he watched Arthur leave.

He’d purposely let his hands linger on Arthur as he undressed and dressed him, making sure to bend over and do things so that Arthur could see what it was he was missing. And it had all been going well, Arthur leaning in to him more, his eyes lingering on Merlin’s lips and ass for long moments before he ripped them away.

And then Prince Mortimer had arrived and Merlin had had to spend his time avoiding the other man, who seemed to think that he had a right to Merlin’s body because he was a servant.

And that’s when Merlin understood why Arthur had said he wouldn’t sleep with Merlin because he was a servant. Because Arthur didn’t want to be like Mortimer, didn’t want his people to think he was like the other Prince, a man who thought it was his right to bed any servant, for the simple fact that he thought servants were nothing.

Sighing, Merlin frowned down at the sword he was cleaning.

Just because he understood why now, didn’t mean that he didn’t still want Arthur to give in and take him back to bed. He’d just stopped torturing Arthur, which had the Prince looking at him even more suspiciously.

“Merlin.”

Merlin froze at the voice, looking up slowly into the black eyes, having to use a lot of effort to stop his magic from reaching out and throwing the man across the room.

“You’re a hard man to find,” Mortimer says, moving into the room, door closing behind him.

“The Prince keeps me busy,” Merlin replies, deciding that he can finish the sword later, standing up and making his way towards the door before his magic can do something that will hurt the other man.

He can’t help the gasp as he feels himself pushed into a wall, Mortimer using his body to keep Merlin hard against the wall, his hands pinning Merlin’s against the cold stone, before he leans in and kisses him.

Struggling for a moment, Merlin tries to wrench his head away, his magic rising up to push the other man off him, only to stop when the Prince is tossed away from him before he can do anything.

“How dare y-”

Mortimer’s outrage is cut off as he looks up at the person standing in front of him.

Arthur.

“How dare you,” Arthur says quietly, and Merlin had learnt in a very short period of time that Arthur was the angriest when he was quiet. “How dare you push yourself onmy servant.”

“It was consensual,” Mortimer objects, small smile crossing his face, obviously hoping Arthur will believe him.

Arthur turns to look at him for a moment, Merlin’s breath stolen from him as he sees how angry the Prince looks, and how beautiful, before Arthur takes a step closer towards Mortimer, looking down at him again.

“Get. Out,” he says, Mortimer clearly realising the trouble he’s in if the way he scrambles is any indication.

Before he can let out a sigh of relief, or a thank you, Merlin finds himself pushed up against the wall again, Arthur’s forehead against his own, his breaths puffing gently against Merlin’s lips.

“Are you okay, Merlin?” he asks quietly.

Merlin nods, letting his hands run up Arthur’s chest, before resting on his neck. Arthur’s eyes close at the touch, and Merlin wants him so much in that moment that it actually hurts. He can’t help it, can’t stop the way he leans forward and kisses Arthur softly, letting out a small groan when Arthur pushes back against him, their mouths tangling together.

“Merlin,” Arthur gasps, pulling his mouth away, something almost like pain on his face.

“I know,” Merlin groans, hitting his head against the wall as Arthur moves away.

Whatever Arthur is about to say is cut off as the door is thrown open, Gwen rushing in and then stopping as she takes in the scene, a small frown on her face.

“Yes, well,” Arthur says, nodding once before walking out of the room.

Merlin watches him go and wonders if any of this will get any easier.

**

“… being an idiot, Arthur.”

Merlin stops as he hears Morgana’s voice, peeking around the corner to see her sitting on one of the window chairs, Arthur pacing in front of her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Arthur responds.

Morgana tuts, standing up and placing herself right in front of him, stopping him from moving.

“No one thinks you’re like Mortimer, Arthur,” Morgana says, folding her arms. “And from what Gwen said, the way Merlin watched you leave; he wants it as much as you do.”

“He’s my servant,” Arthur replies, running a hand over his face.

“And he’s half way to being in love with you,” Morgana answers, moving closer to her. “And I don’t think he’s the only one.”

“I barely know him!” Arthur exclaims, moving past her again and pacing.

“Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Morgana says, small smile on her face. “There’s no one in this kingdom who would think that Merlin went to your bed because he was coerced, or afraid, or felt you pressured him. He challenges you, Arthur, and you deserve a little happiness.”

Pulling his head back, Merlin watches her as she walks past him, his heart racing as he realises that she basically just gave Arthur her blessing. And if there was anyone Arthur listened to, it was the Lady who was like a sister to him.

Taking a deep breath, he walks around the corner, smiling when Arthur looks up at him, watching as he swallows hard.

“Merlin,” Arthur murmurs.

He doesn’t stop, moves right into Arthur’s space, placing his hands gently on Arthur’s face and then kisses him, relaxing when he feels Arthur respond, the Prince’s arms wrapping around him and pulling him even closer.

“Merlin,” Arthur murmurs again as they pull apart.

“I understand, Arthur,” Merlin says, letting his hands move to Arthur’s neck, massaging the stiffness away from his shoulders. “But you know that I’m the worse man servant in history. The whole kingdom knows it. And I can’t just shut off what I’m feeling.”

“I can’t either, Merlin,” he whispers against his mouth, before leaning in and kissing him again, his hands moving down Merlin’s back to rest on his ass, pulling him closer.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Merlin replies, breaking off the kiss to grin at him, glad to see a smile cross the Prince’s face, his heart feeling lighter as Arthur takes a step back, decision and determination crossing his face before he grabs Merlin’s hand, pulling him towards his room.

END

**

So not too sure about the end, but this seemed to fit bettter than everything else I wrote. Hope you enjoy :).

rating: ma, fandom: merlin, pairing: arthur/merlin

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