Need You Now
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin and Arthur
Rating: R
Prompt: it's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk, and I need you now; said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now
Word Count: 680
Author's Notes: This was the first thing I ever wrote in the Merlin fandom. Originally posted here anonymously for kinkme_merlin on February 2nd, 2010.
Merlin shouldn't be creeping along the corridors of the castle, shouldn't even be in Camelot. Arthur forbade him to be within the lands of the kingdom, but Merlin can count on one hand the number of times he's ever followed one of Arthur's commandments to the letter.
The harvest is abundant this year, and tonight all the people of Camelot have gorged themselves on the fruits of their labour, and no one has noticed him in their midst. He's been around all week, observing Arthur standing unhappily in his father's shadow, watching him feign interest and even joy that the kingdom's storerooms will be full and his people fed. Merlin's made sure to stay out of the line of sight of Gaius and Gwen, but otherwise has moved about unmolested.
It isn't far from the stairwell where he's standing to the door to Arthur's chambers, and yet he can't seem to make his feet move. There's no one about to see him at this time of night, even if there was, everyone from the lowliest servant to the most dutiful guard is drunk from the new wine of the vineyards; Merlin managed to sneak a glass for courage before he made it this far.
Of course, that had just made his feet feel heavier than ever.
Still.
He needs to do this. Needs to see for himself that Arthur is fine.
He'd heard the rumours, of course. There is little else to do but listen to gossip out in the far reaches of Cendrid's kingdom, a place where he is far enough from Ealdor not to be in danger from Uther's sword, but close enough to Camelot that he can be at Arthur's side the moment he is needed. And while it seems as though Uther, or the knights, or perhaps Gaius was able to defeat the latest broach of magic into Camelot and specifically against Arthur, Merlin needs to see, to feel that Arthur was not harmed.
He pushes the door open slowly, spelling it against the creak that it always makes, and stands there in the doorway, unable to move, unable to turn away and run, yet unable to step into the room. The fire in Arthur's chambers is still lit, as are the candles, and Merlin can see the shape of Arthur's lanky body huddled in his bed, his back to the door.
The evening is warm and Arthur appears to have decided to forgo a nightshirt, and Merlin has to shake his head to rid it of the memory of other warm, sultry nights, nights when they'd both decided that sleeping naked had its benefits, or even that sleep itself was overvalued.
He stares for another minute, another half an hour- he's not sure- until Arthur groans and rolls onto his back, his sheets slipping down well below his waist, and Merlin can tell that at least part of Arthur remains unharmed. Merlin's knees buckle as Arthur's hand slowly closes into a fist over his cock, his thumb sliding across the moisture gathered at the head, and Merlin wants to moan as Arthur falls into that rhythm that they are both so familiar with.
Merlin leans his head against the door unthinkingly, watching Arthur's hand stroking, and he presses the flat of his own hand against his own hardening cock. He shouldn't do this, shouldn't be here, in Arthur's chambers or even in Camelot, and yet he can't turn away, can't return to safety. He misses this too much, misses Arthur too much, more than he'd even realised.
"Can't listen to me even when your life is at stake, can you?"
Arthur's always been a master of strategy, and Merlin's been so entranced watching Arthur's hand continuing to move that he never noticed Arthur noticing him. He straightens and steps into the room, closing the door behind him.
"You of all people should know that I don't take direction well."
Arthur smirks, then uses his free hand to lift the corner of the sheets, his other hand working all the while.
"We'll see about that."
Pairing: Merlin and Arthur
Rating: R
Prompt: it's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk, and I need you now; said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now
Word Count: 680
Author's Notes: This was the first thing I ever wrote in the Merlin fandom. Originally posted here anonymously for kinkme_merlin on February 2nd, 2010.
Merlin shouldn't be creeping along the corridors of the castle, shouldn't even be in Camelot. Arthur forbade him to be within the lands of the kingdom, but Merlin can count on one hand the number of times he's ever followed one of Arthur's commandments to the letter.
The harvest is abundant this year, and tonight all the people of Camelot have gorged themselves on the fruits of their labour, and no one has noticed him in their midst. He's been around all week, observing Arthur standing unhappily in his father's shadow, watching him feign interest and even joy that the kingdom's storerooms will be full and his people fed. Merlin's made sure to stay out of the line of sight of Gaius and Gwen, but otherwise has moved about unmolested.
It isn't far from the stairwell where he's standing to the door to Arthur's chambers, and yet he can't seem to make his feet move. There's no one about to see him at this time of night, even if there was, everyone from the lowliest servant to the most dutiful guard is drunk from the new wine of the vineyards; Merlin managed to sneak a glass for courage before he made it this far.
Of course, that had just made his feet feel heavier than ever.
Still.
He needs to do this. Needs to see for himself that Arthur is fine.
He'd heard the rumours, of course. There is little else to do but listen to gossip out in the far reaches of Cendrid's kingdom, a place where he is far enough from Ealdor not to be in danger from Uther's sword, but close enough to Camelot that he can be at Arthur's side the moment he is needed. And while it seems as though Uther, or the knights, or perhaps Gaius was able to defeat the latest broach of magic into Camelot and specifically against Arthur, Merlin needs to see, to feel that Arthur was not harmed.
He pushes the door open slowly, spelling it against the creak that it always makes, and stands there in the doorway, unable to move, unable to turn away and run, yet unable to step into the room. The fire in Arthur's chambers is still lit, as are the candles, and Merlin can see the shape of Arthur's lanky body huddled in his bed, his back to the door.
The evening is warm and Arthur appears to have decided to forgo a nightshirt, and Merlin has to shake his head to rid it of the memory of other warm, sultry nights, nights when they'd both decided that sleeping naked had its benefits, or even that sleep itself was overvalued.
He stares for another minute, another half an hour- he's not sure- until Arthur groans and rolls onto his back, his sheets slipping down well below his waist, and Merlin can tell that at least part of Arthur remains unharmed. Merlin's knees buckle as Arthur's hand slowly closes into a fist over his cock, his thumb sliding across the moisture gathered at the head, and Merlin wants to moan as Arthur falls into that rhythm that they are both so familiar with.
Merlin leans his head against the door unthinkingly, watching Arthur's hand stroking, and he presses the flat of his own hand against his own hardening cock. He shouldn't do this, shouldn't be here, in Arthur's chambers or even in Camelot, and yet he can't turn away, can't return to safety. He misses this too much, misses Arthur too much, more than he'd even realised.
"Can't listen to me even when your life is at stake, can you?"
Arthur's always been a master of strategy, and Merlin's been so entranced watching Arthur's hand continuing to move that he never noticed Arthur noticing him. He straightens and steps into the room, closing the door behind him.
"You of all people should know that I don't take direction well."
Arthur smirks, then uses his free hand to lift the corner of the sheets, his other hand working all the while.
"We'll see about that."