Fic: Cafall
Title: Cafall
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6,250
Warnings: Explicit slash, some angst, and a dog.
Summary: Merlin has adopted a dog, which in turn, adopts Arthur. Angst and then sex ensue.
AN: Only my second piece of explicit schmexing here, so I'd be grateful for feedback! It didn't write as easily as the other piece, so I'd really welcome people's opinions.
**
“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice hovered over outright disapproval, “What in the name of all that is holy is… that?”
Merlin tried his most ingratiating smile, which failed dismally. “It’s a puppy, sire.” He said, and hoped against hope that Arthur didn’t take against his new pet like Gaius had.
“Yes, I can see it’s a puppy, Merlin.” Arthur said, sharply. “What I really meant was, why is it in my rooms?”
“He follows me.” Merlin said, weakly, and Arthur raised an eyebrow.
“Doors are good for stopping that kind of thing, Merlin.”
“I tried, but he howled.” Merlin explained, quickly. “And Gaius didn’t like it, so I had to bring him with me. He… pines.”
“Without you?” The expression on Arthur’s face was pure disbelief. “Stupid mutt.”
“Yes, sire.” Merlin agreed, hoping that Arthur would be let it go at that, and hurrying on to stop the conversation continuing any further. “Now, where would you like me to start?”
**
The puppy really was a good companion, Merlin thought, looking back down at it fondly. He’d managed to keep it in his room for the first month or so - with Gaius’ disapproving eyes on him the whole time - just while it was tiny and feeble and growing, and couldn’t see very much. Unfortunately, what with him feeding it and stroking it and making sure that it was warm and comfortable, it - he, in fact - had become very attached to Merlin, and now whimpered miserably whenever Merlin tried to leave it.
Merlin was working on lessening the canine’s separation anxiety, but in doing so had only managed to get the dog similarly attached to someone else.
And that someone else just had to be Arthur.
It took a while, but finally when he turned up at Arthur’s chambers with the dog in tow, Arthur had unbent just a little, and had patted him awkwardly on the head, and muttered,
“Yes, good dog. Sit.”
“He, er, doesn’t respond much to that, sire.” Merlin said, awkwardly.
“Then you should train him better.” Arthur threw over his shoulder, and Merlin subsided. The dog gambolled ridiculously when Arthur looked back at him, and the blond boy cracked a smile, and obligingly pulled on the dog’s ears. It whined pitifully when he took his hand away, and he read through the rest of his reports with the puppy - young dog, now, really - leaning it’s head on his lap, one hand occasionally stroking it.
So the only person he could leave the dog with - without it whining and bringing undue attention to itself - was Arthur. Which brought undue attention of a totally different kind, in that Arthur grew almost as attached to the dog as Merlin himself.
It took him a couple of weeks, while the dog grew - and ate, Merlin had never seen a creature eat as much as that dog - but Arthur did eventually comment on the dog’s unusual lineage. He’d been training the animal to follow basic commands with some success, and he finally stopped his training and gave Merlin a piercing look.
“Tell me, Merlin, just how is it you managed to adopt a dog that looks a lot like one of the royal hunting hounds, hmm?”
Merlin flushed. “Well, he’s not pure-bred, sire.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s very interesting, Merlin, but it doesn’t answer my question.”
“The master of hounds was going to kill him.” Merlin told him, uncomfortably, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible, and not let any of his outrage show. “Because he’s a cross-breed. He was the last one in his litter; the rest had all been drowned when I got there.”
Arthur’s face was impassive, but his eyes were affectionate when he looked down at the mutt sprawled out on his floor. Looking back up, he simply nodded. “D’you know what he’s a cross with?”
“No, sire.” Merlin said, truthfully.
“Looks a bit like a collie.” Arthur said, absently, and they left it at that.
**
The next week found Arthur heading out after Merlin, who’d forgotten that the Prince needed his better clothes for the session during which Uther opened the doors of his court to the public and listened to any outstanding grievances. At the moment, it was little more than a propaganda move, but Arthur was determined to make it something real and worthwhile when he became King.
For now, though, he just wanted his manservant to actually do his job, and it seemed that Merlin had scampered off with the dog - who still had no name, because neither of them could agree on it, and both refused to let the other name the poor animal - and had last been seen heading out of Camelot with the ridiculous mutt close on his heels. And of course, Arthur had to head out after him. After all the mistakes Merlin had made, he wasn’t sure he was ever going to trust a servant to do anything for him.
He steadfastly ignored the part of him which was saying he was using that excuse to escape a boring court session and spend more time with the dog. And possibly Merlin, too.
He finally found the two of them out in a clearing fairly near the castle, alerted to their presence by the dog’s barking and Merlin’s laughter. When he finally saw them, Merlin had one end of a stick, and the dog had the other. Merlin’s hair was all over the place, and his clothes were in disarray - but he was grinning widely and Arthur couldn’t quite catch himself before the thought crossed his mind that his slight, gawky manservant had never looked so good, so happy.
And it wasn’t Arthur that had made him look that way.
It was absolutely ridiculous to be jealous of a dog, but he was aware that he wanted to put that look on Merlin’s face, and it wasn’t something he could ever do. Not in the way he wanted, not as a good Prince.
Not as a good friend.
He turned away. For the moment, he’d leave them to it. He had no place here.
**
When Merlin got back to the castle, flushed and tousled, Arthur was waiting for him in his room, the court session long since over.
“Arthur!” Merlin sounded surprised; but then, Arthur was normally down at the practice courts by now, and Merlin normally spent this time tidying the room up, setting the fire, and getting rid of any refuse which had built up during the day.
“Where were you, earlier?” Arthur asked, coolly. “I needed you to help with my clothes.”
Merlin glanced guiltily down at the dog, who was stood at his feet, deceptively calm and obedient. As though sensing the discussion, he padded over to Arthur, and thrust his nose into the other boy’s hand.
Arthur folded his arms, and ignored the way huge brown eyes fixed themselves on his face mournfully. “Well?”
“I took him for a walk,” Merlin said, awkwardly, “And I lost track of time.”
“Don’t do so again.” Arthur said, stiffly. “And keep this mutt out of my chambers, I don’t want to see him again.”
Merlin’s own eyes went wide. “What?” he said, a frown beginning. “Why not? I - you like him!”
“I tolerated him.” Arthur corrected coldly. “I never said I liked him. Either you don’t bring him - it - back here, or you don’t come back yourself.”
Merlin’s expressive eyes were shuttered. “Yes, sire.” He agreed, flatly. “I’ll take him away for you.” he held out a hand to the dog, who went to him with one last reproachful look back at Arthur, and a whine at the door.
Arthur kept his face blank until the door shut, when he turned to the window and made himself believe that that hadn’t hurt more than he’d been expecting.
**
The relationship he had with Merlin after that hadn’t been so stilted since Merlin first came to work for him, but Arthur still found his eyes following the other boy whenever he was in the room. Now that he’d had that horrible, insidious thought, he couldn’t seem to turn the following ones off, and he found himself wondering constantly what it would be like to kiss Merlin the way he’d kissed girls, what it would be like to touch Merlin…
And then there was that damn dog, which still followed Merlin round with those big reproachful eyes, the tail that wagged whenever Arthur got near and which drooped every time he was ignored again. Stupid dog, Arthur thought, viciously, why couldn’t it learn?
Merlin seemed, if possible, even fonder of the stupid animal now than he had been before, petting it and letting it fawn all over him and follow him whenever he wasn’t doing jobs for Arthur. True to his word, he didn’t bring the animal into Arthur’s chambers, but the hours spent training the dog had paid off, and it sat obediently outside the door, tail thumping gently against the floor while he waited for his master to finish and come out again.
Whenever Arthur came by, the dog’s tongue lolled ridiculously and he gave Arthur the same pleading eyes which had had such effect just a fortnight ago. It was a wrench to ignore the creature, but in his mind his attraction to Merlin and the damn dog were inextricably linked, and he couldn’t give in to one without giving in to the other. Not to mention, the last thing he needed were further ties to his manservant beyond the standard master/servant relationship.
**
Things might have continued like that forever if the ‘damn dog’ hadn’t decided to get involved when Uther was giving Merlin a particularly vicious reprimand in front of the court, for acting as stupidly as normal. The men of the court were going on a hunt, and Merlin had managed to ruin Arthur’s hunting boots by forgetting to polish them, and had then compounded the offence by being late to saddle Arthur’s horse and delaying the entire hunt.
Uther’s reprimand was therefore justified, even if it was a little over-the-top, and even if Arthur would have preferred to be able to discipline his own servants - despite the fact that he knew that he was appallingly bad at disciplining Merlin, no matter how much their relationship had deteriorated. But when Uther had shaken Merlin, even as Arthur stepped forward, the stupid mutt had flown at the king, growling and snapping and looking far more dangerous than Arthur knew it could ever hope to be.
To his credit, Uther had looked neither frightened nor thrown by this. What he did look was absolutely furious.
“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, his voice very hushed. “Whose is this - creature?”
Merlin had at least the sense not to own to the dog, knowing that to do so would only increase his own punishment and whatever the dog was now facing.
“No one?” Uther asked, softly, and turned to one of his guards. “Take it away and destroy it.” He turned back to Merlin, who had gone very white.
“Your majesty…” he started, but Arthur couldn’t watch the wreckage any longer.
“I’m sorry, Father, I can’t let you do that,” He strode forward, and met Uther’s rather surprised gaze levelly. “The dog’s mine. It was a - misguided present,” his eyes flickered briefly to Merlin, who was staring at him with unflattering shock, “But I’ve grown fond of him.”
“And what is the creature’s name?” Uther asked, ever suspicious.
Arthur’s mind flashed back to the names he had been planning on giving the dog, before he had disavowed all interest in it. “Cafall.” He said, after a brief pause. “He’s disobedient and idle, but I’m training him.”
“See that you do.” Uther said, coldly. “I won’t bear a repeat of this, do you understand? And while you’re training your dog, you might try training your manservant - both seem equally unruly.” He turned away, and Arthur met Merlin’s eyes briefly. For the first time in a fortnight, they were warm and alive as they looked at him, and he risked a brief smile.
Merlin’s answering grin lit up his entire face. “Thank you.” he mouthed, and Arthur shrugged, turning away.
“Cafall!” he called, rather experimentally, holding out a hand to the dog, and it streaked over to him with a speed any creature with any self-respect would have been ashamed of. It seemed, though, as the newly-named Cafall capered round him, that the dog had no self-respect or sense of propriety whatsoever. Glancing ruefully at Merlin, he thought that maybe, between himself and the dog, the dog was the lucky one.
**
When he got back from the hunt, tired and mud-splattered, he found Cafall outside his door, a sure indication that Merlin was inside, and he sighed, heavily. Opening the door, he gestured the dog in, and the gesturing hand received an enthusiastic lick for its pains.
Merlin had prepared a bath for him, and fresh, clean clothes were waiting for him over the back of a chair, while a large towel warmed by the fire. Arthur, chilled to the bone and exhausted, thought it looked a little bit like heaven.
“Organised, for once, I see, Merlin.” He sniped, to cover his surprise, and Merlin nodded, awkwardly.
“I, er… I wanted to say thank you.” he said, slowly. “For saving Cafall.”
“So, you’re keeping the name?” he asked, idly.
“Good a name as any.” Merlin shrugged. “And - really. Thank you.”
“Well, we’re both - fond of him.” Arthur returned, equally uncomfortable. Wild horses wouldn’t get him to admit that his main motivation for saving the dog was to stop the heartbreak he had seen dawning on Merlin’s face.
“I didn’t think you were that fond of him, actually.” Merlin said, quietly, and Arthur frowned at him. From the way Merlin was standing, uncertain but determined, he was set on having this talk now, and Arthur had no answers to give which wouldn’t damage their relationship - what was left of it, anyway - beyond all repair.
“I’m Crown Prince of Camelot.” He said, his voice more defeated than he would have liked. “Showing an interest in something is just asking to have it taken away ‘for my own good’.”
“You showed an interest in Cafall.”
“I’m past the stage where my father can have my pets killed to teach me a lesson.” Arthur said, bitterly, and didn’t miss the shock on Merlin’s face. “Is there anything else you wanted to say? If not, get out.”
Merlin bit his lip. “Why did you save him, Arthur?” he asked, softly.
For a moment, Arthur was silent. He wasn’t used to people asking questions like that directly; people danced around things they wanted him to tell them, until he told them whatever it was without realising it. Merlin had never been like that, though. “He’s your dog.” He said, gruffly. “And there was no reason for him to be killed. For you to be hurt like that.”
It was Merlin’s turn to be silent, but he did finally speak up again. “You know,” he paused, but continued slowly. “You can be very sweet sometimes.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He said, looking away. “Now, are you going to let me have that bath or not?”
“Of course, sire.” Merlin nodded. “I’ll go and get you a meal while you bathe.”
“Ah, yes. Um, good.” Arthur hadn’t thought about that; but the kitchen staff were going to be busy preparing the carcasses of the animals they’d hunted, and nothing was going to be served tonight. “Well done.”
Merlin’s expression was more than a little amused. “Thank you, sire,” His tone bordered on sly as he added, “Would you like me to leave your dog here, or should I take him with me?”
Arthur refused to look at him. “You can leave him here.” He said, haughtily. “And get him some food, too.”
“Of course.” As Merlin slipped out, Arthur finally looked down at Cafall with a hunted expression.
“This is all your fault.” He informed him, and Cafall panted at him endearingly. “Oh, shut up.” He said, grumpily, and started shucking his clothes for the bath.
**
Merlin returned with the food about twenty minutes later, while Arthur was towelling himself down, having rushed through the deliciously hot bath so as not to be in while Merlin was in the room. His attraction to Merlin was bad enough without being in the same room as him while he, Arthur, was naked and wet.
“Put it on the table, then you’re dismissed for the night.”
Merlin looked up at him, face very set. “I want to show you how grateful I am.” He said, firmly. “I know we - haven’t been getting on recently, and I’m sorry. I - know it’s wrong, or whatever, but I didn’t mean to - to…” he shrugged, helplessly, “Be that way,” he finished, lamely. “And then you - and I want to show you that I’m grateful. And sorry. For that.”
Arthur could feel his resolve cracking. “For heaven’s sake, Merlin!” he pulled his shirt on with jerky movements. “It was a whim, that’s all! Now would you please just get out?”
“No.” Merlin said, stubbornly, closing what little remained of the distance between them. “Just let me show you that I’m grateful, Arthur!”
“Sire, not Arthur. You still can’t talk to me like that!” Arthur was clutching at straws here and he knew it. “And I don’t want gratitude!”
“Please, then, just - let me prove I’m sorry.” Merlin’s expression was torn between hurt and annoyance, and he took another step forwards, till he was nearly nose-to-nose with Arthur. “I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you, but you saved Cafall’s life, and the least I can do is-”
“I saved his life because - I suppose I’m fond of him, idiot, it’s nothing to do with you!” Arthur returned, desperately trying to put a little space between them.
Unfortunately, Merlin refused to let him. “Well, then, if you don’t want gratitude, at least let me apologise properly!” his eyes were wide and as hurt as Cafall’s had been, and Arthur stifled a groan. “I just don’t understand why you’re so - upset about it!” Merlin finished, and though Arthur had no idea what he was talking about, he opened his mouth to reply anyway.
Later, Arthur would have sworn blind that he hadn’t meant his reply to be anything like that, but he found himself kissing Merlin a couple of seconds later. Merlin was unresponsive for a moment or two, and it was only when Arthur was about to pull back, mortified, and find some way of blaming that on Merlin, that he began to kiss him back, one hand coming up to card in Arthur’s hair, keeping the other boy in place.
It was nothing like kissing girls, Arthur thought, rather hazily. Girls were soft where Merlin wasn’t, and he normally had to bend down to kiss girls. Not to mention, girls just didn’t kiss at all like Merlin, who kissed with an intensity which would have surprised anyone who hadn’t had the number of conversations Arthur had had with Merlin just before a life-or-death situation.
Arthur pulled back, a little out of breath, and stared at Merlin, who looked flushed and strangely confused. “If this is about gratitude-” he began, warningly, and Merlin shook his head, that same poleaxed expression firmly in place.
“Don’t be stupid.” He said, almost absently. “Why would I think you wanted that? After the way you’ve been-”
“About that.” Arthur interrupted. “What are talking about? What’s all this ‘I know it’s wrong’ nonsense about?”
Merlin gave him a look which Arthur was normally giving rather than receiving, one which implied that not only was Arthur an idiot, he was one who talked in a foreign language as well. “You weren’t exactly being subtle,” he pointed out, dryly. “I thought the reason why you’ve been - well, such a dick lately - was because you found out… how I, um, y’know, felt about you,” that last in an embarrassed murmur.
Arthur shut his eyes and had to bite back a groan. “Merlin, you idiot.” He said, with feeling.
“What?!”
“I like you, that’s why I’ve been a bit - distant, lately,” Arthur began, but was cut off by Merlin, frowning slightly.
“I don’t understand the problem…?”
“I’m the Crown Prince! I’m not allowed to like you - like that. I’m going to have to marry a nice, noble girl and have nice, noble children who can inherit-”
“Your nice, noble throne, yes, I get it,” Merlin nodded, rolling his eyes. “But you’re not married yet.”
“Were you not listening when I said that everything I showed any interest in at all was taken away from me?” Arthur snapped.
“You’re too old to have your friends taken away from you to teach you a lesson.” Merlin swayed a little closer, his voice persuasive. “And if you like, we just won’t tell anyone.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Merlin, do you even know yourself?” he asked, sarcastically. “You’re the least subtle person in Camelot.”
“For this, I’ll try harder.” Merlin promised, impishly, and Arthur sighed, heavily. “Really, Arthur, I think you’re overcomplicating things. You like me, I like you, you’re not married, no one has to know. Now either we do something a little more interesting than standing around arguing, or I take Cafall here for a nice long walk.”
“Start walking, then.” Arthur started to say, but Merlin cut him off, pressing his lips almost chastely to Arthur’s, before deepening the kiss, wrapping one arm around the Prince’s waist, and the other around his neck, pulling himself closer to the blond. Arthur half-groaned into it, before giving up the argument for the moment, and slipping his arms round his manservant’s waist, kissing back.
Merlin pulled back a little, before pressing a lazy kiss to the skin just below Arthur’s ear, letting him feel the other boy’s smile against his skin. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” He grinned, and Arthur’s resistance broke completely. He sighed, pulling Merlin back for another long kiss.
“How about those ‘more interesting’ things you mentioned?” he suggested when it ended, and Merlin grinned, then paused.
“I’m game, but - Cafall is staring.”
Arthur sighed, disentangling himself from Merlin and shooing the dog outside. “At least we’ll have warning if anyone tries to come in.” he said as he turned back from shutting and locking the door, but immediately found himself with an armful of enthusiastic Merlin. The other boy certainly wasn’t the most experienced person he’d ever kissed, but he was certainly the most rewarding. Kissing Merlin felt like he was being given everything of him, like Merlin was pouring all of himself into it; and Arthur really did groan this time, trying to get even closer to Merlin.
His hands slid lower, and Merlin broke their kiss for a short moan, before attacking the lacing on Arthur’s shirt.
“Shouldn’t have - put out clean clothes for you.” he said, a little breathlessly, glancing up at Arthur with a grin, and Arthur couldn’t quite hold back his own smile.
“Bed.” He ordered, and for once, Merlin didn’t protest, taking his hand and actively leading Arthur into his own bedroom. Once there, Arthur pulled his now-unlaced shirt over his head, and went to untie his trousers, when he found Merlin on his knees in front of him, doing it for him. “Well, while you’re down there…” he managed, and Merlin grinned again.
“Ask nicely.” He said, sweetly, pushing Arthur’s trousers down and letting his breath ghost over the tip of Arthur’s cock. Though he would deny it emphatically later, Arthur whimpered. Merlin grinned. “Something you want, sire?”
“Merlin, please…”
Apparently, that was all it took, and Merlin licked a broad stripe up the underside of Arthur’s cock, following the main vein, before wrapping his lips round the head, and sucking hard, hollowing his cheeks and looking up at Arthur through his lashes.
Arthur groaned, letting his hands rest on Merlin’s head, trying to thrust - but, distracted by Merlin’s mouth on his dick, he’d missed Merlin placing his hands on Arthur’s hips, holding him in place with surprising strength.
The darker boy pulled back. “Oh, no.” he said, simply, and went back to sucking on his cock like it was some kind of obscene sweet, taking a little more of it this time, and doing something amazing with his tongue which made Arthur’s knees weaken just a little.
“Please please please…” he whimpered, and Merlin mumbled something round the dick in his mouth which sounded a lot like ‘you’re getting the hang of it’, but Arthur was too distracted to care. The feeling of those lips moving like that on his cock, the tongue stroking erratically against the underside, the vibrations from the words, drew a keening sound from Arthur he would have been embarrassed by it if he hadn’t been half out of his mind.
Achingly slowly, Merlin sucked a little more of his cock into his mouth, his tongue wrapping around it, and Arthur tried to thrust once again, but this time, Merlin let him, allowing Arthur to slide his cock a little further into his servant’s mouth. Dimly Arthur felt Merlin’s hands leave his hips, but he couldn’t quite remember why that was important until he thrust again and Merlin somehow managed to take him all the way to the root. He swallowed around it, and the feeling of muscles moving around his cock drew yet another embarrassing noise from Arthur which he couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed about.
It took conscious effort, but he pulled back from Merlin, who knelt back on his heels, lips puffy and obscenely red. “What?” he asked, and just watching his mouth form the word was an exercise in self-control.
Arthur managed a smile. “I have something else in mind.” He said. It was, he felt, rather impressive that he managed to sound so coherent.
Merlin grinned. “Oh? Like what?”
Without Merlin sucking his cock, it was getting easier to think things beyond hotwetgoodohgod, and Arthur grinned back, offering him a hand up. “Well, for one thing, it involves you in fewer clothes.” Merlin obligingly took his ever-present scarf off, hands fumbling slightly with the knot until Arthur covered them with his own. “Let me.” He said, almost fondly. “Idiot.” He got the knot undone easily, and stepped back, waving a regal hand - as much as he could be regal while stark naked. “Continue.”
Merlin stared for a moment or two, then grinned again, very, very slowly, pulling his jacket off and letting it drop unceremoniously to the ground. Arthur watched in silence, his mouth going ever so slightly dry, as Merlin stripped off his shirt, until Merlin’s hands fumbled once again with the lacings at his trousers. Arthur sighed, reaching out and pulling Merlin forwards, closer to him. “Idiot.” He murmured, again, and Merlin grinned.
“Yes, sire.” He agreed, meekly, and Arthur choked back a laugh.
Once the other boy was naked, Arthur let his hands slide down to Merlin’s own, neglected cock, letting one finger slide ever so slowly down it to the root - Merlin’s breath hitched - before grasping it firmly and twisting his hand back up. Merlin let his head drop forward onto Arthur’s shoulder as he moaned, and Arthur revelled momentarily in the way the tables had turned. He stroked his thumb over the head of his manservant’s cock, and grinned when Merlin whimpered; it looked like his new lover was fixing to be the vocal kind, and Arthur could hardly wait to hear what kind of noises Merlin made when he was actually being fucked.
He managed to manoeuvre them over to the bed, where he got Merlin laid back on the sheets, looking more than slightly glassy-eyed. He stood back for a moment, just staring - Merlin was a sight for sore eyes, spread out on his bed, flushed and wanton like that - but the other boy didn’t give him much time to look, starting to sit up and reaching for him.
Arthur obliged him, climbing onto the bed himself only to be pulled down on top of Merlin. Both of them groaned as the move brought their cocks into contact, and Merlin’s kiss tasted of lust and desperation. He arched up against Arthur, increasing the friction for both of them, and Arthur reached for the vial of oil he kept under his mattress for just this* kind of occasion, opening it with fingers that shook rather more than he would have liked.
Merlin watched, frowning a little, but obeyed when Arthur told him to spread his legs. Arthur settled back between them, his hand wet with oil, and one finger teased the skin around Merlin’s hole. Merlin wriggled, desperate for more than that, and Arthur chuckled low in his throat, before letting that one finger slip inside.
Whatever Arthur might be like elsewhere, he was surprisingly considerate in bed, Merlin discovered, as the prince allowed Merlin more than enough time to adjust to one finger, slowly thrusting it in and out until Merlin was willing to kill just to get more.
“Please,” he begged shamelessly, and Arthur grinned ferally, and added another oil-slick finger.
Merlin’s head fell to one side, eyes shut, as he groaned, and Arthur reflected briefly that he’d never had such a responsive lover. All the women he’d been with were servant girls who seemed to find the whole thing rather boring, and all the men were other knights who would have considered it beneath them to come apart for Arthur the way Merlin was letting himself. Merlin was whimpering as Arthur’s fingers scissored inside him, hips jerking minutely with every thrust, and when Arthur added a third finger, pumping them in and out of the other boy’s hole, Merlin actually cried out, his head tipping back against the pillows.
Arthur leant forward, so his lips were touching against Merlin’s skin. “Ready?” he asked, his voice very low.
Merlin barely managed a nod, canting his hips again in order to back up his claim. Arthur’s hands were still less than steady as he slicked his cock up with what remained of the oil on his hands, but he was slow and careful as he guided himself into Merlin.
The other boy grimaced, the expressive eyes shut tightly, his mouth tense, as Arthur’s cock entered him, and Arthur stopped immediately. “Are you alright?” he asked, unsurely.
Merlin’s breath was rather stuttered. “Yes.” He managed, but the frown remained in place. “Just - need a moment.”
It was agony to wait, but Arthur would rather have taken a vow of lifelong celibacy than hurt Merlin after everything he’d already done, and he forced himself to stay still until Merlin’s expression relaxed a little and he nodded. He eased himself in a little further, excruciatingly slowly, until he was in down to the base. Merlin looked a little tense, but determined.
“Move.” He grunted, and Arthur was only too happy to oblige, pulling back a little way, and giving one experimental little thrust. It took two or three of those before Merlin eased up enough to start responding, but Arthur was willing to take it at any pace Merlin wanted.
The darker boy’s expression relaxed, and he pulled Arthur down for a long kiss, one so intense that Arthur forgot to move, joined to Merlin but still, and it was only when they broke the kiss that he started to thrust again. Now that Merlin had relaxed, he was making those delicious little sounds again, his breath coming in pants as he arched his back and moaned while Arthur thrust into him with increasing force.
One long leg wrapped around Arthur’s waist, and he bent down, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to Merlin’s skin. Merlin made a choked noise, baring his neck to Arthur, who took full advantage of it, kisses becoming feral as he sucked on the skin until it was sensitised almost to the point of pain. Merlin was whimpering and moaning as his body reacted to Arthur’s actions, one hand resting at Arthur’s hip, the other against his neck, feeling the blood pump against his palm. He met Arthur’s thrusts with ones of his own, arching against them and instinctively tightening his muscles. He could feel pressure building in his veins, and clenched his eyes shut because he knew they would be glowing gold.
Merlin came without Arthur having to touch him once, his climax pulling Arthur into his own with a shout. For a minute or so, the two of them just lay there, panting, coming down off the high, but eventually Arthur moved, pulling out of Merlin, whose breath caught slightly as he did so.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Arthur asked, anxiously, and Merlin grinned sleepily up at him.
“Nope.” He said, cheerfully.
“Well, good.” Arthur said, affecting a self-assurance he wasn’t sure he had any longer. By being so open and responsive himself, Merlin seemed to have stripped Arthur of all his carefully-built defences, and he was left feeling horribly vulnerable. “All that moaning you were doing, it was hard to tell.”
“Right.” Merlin agreed, with half-hearted sarcasm. “Because I didn’t sound like I was enjoying that at all, did I?”
Arthur lay back on the pillows next to Merlin, managing to get himself under the messed up sheets with no small effort. Merlin fitted himself along Arthur’s side, resting his head on the prince’s shoulder as though it belonged there, and seemed set to fall asleep then and there. Arthur’s arm slid round his shoulders almost of it’s own volition. “With you, Merlin,” he said, softly, “It’s sometimes hard to tell.”
Merlin smiled, but didn’t seem about to reply, and they settled into a comfortable, sleepy silence.
It didn’t last long. Arthur was just floating between asleep and awake, looking forward to dropping into sleep, when both he and Merlin jerked awake to the sound of scratching at the door.
“Cafall.” They both said, and Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin. “You might as well go and let him in.”
Merlin shook his head, refusing to open his eyes. “You let him in.” he said, childishly.
“Merlin, you’re my servant.”
“I’m sore!” he protested, and though Arthur tried to come up with a decent response, he didn’t quite manage it. Grumbling, he threw the covers off and padded over to the door, unlocking it and somehow managing to let the wretched mutt in without displaying himself naked to the whole of Camelot.
For the first time ever, Cafall almost growled at Arthur, before loping over to the bed and leaping onto it, nudging at Merlin’s warm, half-asleep body with a pitiful whine.
Arthur watched this scene from the re-locked door, having found a robe to wrap himself in for the time being. One blond eyebrow was raised.
“I think he thinks I was hurting you.” he informed his lover, and Merlin sat up only to find himself knocked flat again by an overly-anxious mongrel, who gave his face a couple of concerned licks.
“Cafall, down.” Merlin ordered, firmly, but the dog paid no attention to him. “Get over here, would you?” he ordered Arthur, who came, despite wanting to baulk at being ordered around by his own servant. “Cafall, I’m fine. I’m fine!” he pushed the dog away, and he sat at the end of the bed giving Arthur a baleful look as he climbed into - his own! - bed.
Merlin took Arthur’s hand, holding it up for Cafall to see. “We’re friends, you stupid animal.” Arthur told the dog, even as it growled at him.
“Friends, Cafall. Friends.” Merlin stressed the word, and Cafall did eventually stop growling. With a sigh, Merlin held out their joined hands to the stupid animal, who sniffed at them, suspiciously, before looking back up at Arthur.
“Great.” Arthur sighed. “Now my dog hates me because you’re too loud in bed.”
“Well, he’s my dog, really. Uther just thinks he’s yours.” Merlin pointed out, reasonably.
“I claimed him, and I trained him. Makes him mine.” Arthur said, smugly.
“No, it doesn’t!” Merlin protested.
Tempted though Arthur was to continue the argument, it wasn’t worth missing out on sleep. Or annoying Merlin too much, but he wasn’t about to admit that out loud. “We could share him?” he suggested, and Merlin nodded, reluctantly.
“I suppose that could work.” He nodded.
“Good. Now get the dog off the bed, and go to sleep, I’m tired after all that hunting.”
“Oh, so that’s the only thing that’s tired you out, is it?” Merlin asked, suggestively.
“Of course.” Arthur gave him a supercilious look as he shed the robe. “You’re not nearly good enough to wear me out, Merlin.”
Merlin glared at him for a moment, but then grinned. “Oh, and - Cafall sleeps on the bed. He always does.”
“Not here, he doesn’t.” Arthur said, firmly.
“You try telling him that.” Merlin said, smugly.
Arthur, as was getting to be a habit with Merlin, gave in, and Cafall curled up, nose-to-tail, at the end of the bed, undisturbed. Merlin blew out the candle, and the two of them resumed their previous positions. For a few minutes, they lay in silence.
“If Cafall heard us through the door…” Merlin began, and Arthur groaned. “Who else did?”
“No one.” He said, firmly. “He’s got a dog’s hearing.”
A few more moments of silence.
“Oh, and you’d better wash your face before you kiss me again.”
**
There you go! Hope it was OK. ^_^