Fic: The Joye of Sexe
I started this fic weeks ago, based on a conversation with thisissirius here. It's been growing ever since. So today I will post it in honour of her birthday: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SISSI!
Title: The Joye of Sexe (AKA That Arthur Is Obsessed with Sex Fic AKA The Little Porn Ficlet That Grew)
EDIT: ineptshieldmaid has informed me that the Old English for this title would be Hæmedes dreám (which is decidedly better than my tongue-in-cheek Olde Englishe version)
Fandom: BBC's Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: NC17 (very much porn)
Wordcount: 8688 (yes, it appears that the longest fic I've written in this fandom so far started out as a porn scene)
Summary: Arthur has a lot of sex.
AN: includes the Taming phrase prompt "Great Minds Have Purposes"
The more time Merlin spent as Arthur’s manservant, the more he realised that Arthur did have a lot of sex. He was certainly very discreet about it - no gossip ever ensued, but more and more frequently when Merlin arrived in the morning Arthur was ushering out a hurriedly-clad young lady. Occasionally it was a young man - and the first time Merlin saw that it made him blink in surprise.
And it wasn’t that it was a problem, after all, Arthur was the prince and could do as he liked. Merlin just wished he didn’t have to know. It was dreadfully embarrassing to run across one of the laundry maids in the corridor doing her job having walked in on Arthur sucking her nipples in bed that morning.
Merlin had knocked. And, damn him, Arthur had told him to come in.
This particular laundry maid winked knowingly at Merlin as she sauntered past, but many of the others blushed or refused to meet his eyes.
And Merlin knew that he blushed whenever he saw them.
And that squire. It took a lot of careful effort on Merlin’s part not to think about the slim, dark haired youth who’d ducked bashfully out of Arthur’s chamber when Merlin arrived that morning. And what they might have been doing together.
In public Arthur was the perfect gentleman. He teased and flirted at banquets - often under his father’s express orders to charm some lady or other - and he never, never overstepped his bounds with ladies who had a reputation to maintain. Virginal daughters of lords were hugely safe in Arthur’s company: especially since he was very wary of one trying to trap him into marriage.
Married ladies were something of a different issue… Merlin had been outraged to discover Arthur’s liaison with the wife of Sir Lionel, who had to be at least fifteen years his senior.
“Stop fussing,” Arthur told him wearily after the lady had left, her eyelashes fluttering back at Arthur as she closed the door. “It’s fine.”
“Um, she’s married,” Merlin pointed out.
“I was aware,” Arthur replied dryly. “But she was throwing herself at me. And it’s an honour for her and her husband that she shared my bed.”
Merlin raised an eyebrow.
Arthur smirked. “You don’t believe me? I assure you that sex with me is an honour!” He laughed. “But really, it is. The noble ladies will all know about our… tryst… by the end of the day and her ladyship will go up in everyone’s estimation even though nobody will ever mention it in public. Not quite the honour of getting into my father’s bed,” - Merlin pulled a face at the idea - “but an honour nonetheless.”
“And you just did it as a favour?” Merlin was highly sceptical.
Arthur shrugged on his jacket over his shirt and made for the door, glancing back at Merlin over his shoulder. “No. I did it because I like sex and she’s an attractive woman. Wash the sheets, would you?” And then he was gone, leaving Merlin to stare balefully at the huge bed and the tangle of sheets and blankets upon it.
*
“What?” Arthur asked in amusement bordering exasperation, as Merlin moved around the prince’s room tidying up in accusative silence.
It was the fourth morning that week that one of the serving girls had been in Arthur’s room when Merlin arrived.
“Nothing, sire,” Merlin replied, glowering at the prince.
“You’re such a prude!” Arthur exclaimed. “Is this because Lynette was still naked when you arrived?”
“Oh, so you do know her name,” Merlin commented, piling up the dishes on the table.
Arthur smiled in realisation, and sat down on the end of the bed. “I see. So this sullen, grumpy act of disapproval isn’t over the amount of sex I have, but over the frequent change of partners.”
Merlin glanced up at Arthur, then looked away again.
“Well, it would hardly be appropriate for me to have a favourite, now would it?”
Merlin still didn’t speak and Arthur began to feel annoyed. Merlin was only a servant. He didn’t have to justify himself. So he added spitefully, “Is it just because I’ve never propositioned you?”
Merlin’s head whipped around in shock and Arthur felt a moment of satisfaction before the guilt kicked in.
“No, sire, you can, of course, do whatever you like. I’ll take your boots for cleaning downstairs.”
And then he was gone, and Arthur was left sitting on his bed, running over the conversation in his head and failing to understand what had happened at all.
*
It had been a week and a half since Merlin had found anyone in Arthur’s room. He wasn’t sure if the prince, sensing his discomfort, had decided to be more discreet, or whether there hadn’t been any lovers attending him. Certainly some mornings Arthur was still in bed when Merlin arrived, and the prince was alone. Maybe he wasn’t letting them stay the night anymore. Whatever the reason, it allowed Merlin to relax.
Too soon, apparently.
“Merlin?” Arthur asked from the bed, lounging back on the pillows and making no move to get up and start the day. “Have you ever had sex?”
Luckily Merlin had his back to Arthur when the prince spoke, so he had a moment to compose his expression before he turned. “I don’t see that that’s any of your business, sire,” he replied as politely as he could. He thought of the two girls he’d had sex with: both times it had been clumsy and embarrassing. He supposed when one was a prince one didn’t have these problems.
Arthur’s mouth was twisting into a pensive frown and Merlin racked his brains for a reason to escape before the conversation continued. “Is there anything else you want, sire, or can I run some errands for Gaius?”
Arthur sighed.
“Yes, there is something else, Merlin. This is getting ridiculous. If you have something to say I’d rather you just said it. All this stomping and glaring is very annoying. I know you don’t approve of my behaviour, but really it’s none of your business who I sleep with. What would you have me do, live like a monk?”
“No,” Merlin snapped back. “But perhaps you should stick to one person who cares about you, rather than falling into bed with anyone with a pulse!”
He saw the prince’s expression become one of rage, and then Arthur was out of bed and far too close, his furious face inches from Merlin’s. “I pick my bedmates with great care!” he roared. “I’d never sleep with someone who might be hurt by the experience, who might lose their reputation or who might not actually want to. I assure you every one of them is more than willing.”
“Yes,” Merlin said softly, stepping backwards, away from Arthur. “Because you are the prince.”
For a moment Arthur remained motionless, then his face became shuttered, his posture deflated and he turned back towards the bed. “You can go now.” His voice was hard.
Merlin moved forward, his hand out to brush Arthur’s bare shoulder, his eyes on the back of the prince’s head as he tried to ignore the fact that Arthur was naked. “I - ”
“I said go,” Arthur snarled.
Merlin went.
*
Whatever balance they might have come to in the previous week was now gone. Merlin was certain that Arthur was deliberately provoking him - every morning there was a half dressed servant in Arthur’s chamber and when Merlin let them out Arthur stared at him defiantly, daring him to comment.
When they were alone the silence was icy, and Merlin left as quickly as possible after completing his chores.
The sixth day after their fight, when Merlin knocked on the door and was bade to enter he barely glanced at the bed. It wasn’t until he’d heated the water and begun to bank down the fire that he noticed Arthur wasn’t getting up. He glanced over at the bed and met Arthur’s challenging gaze. The prince lay on his side, the blankets pushed down to his waist, his muscular body wrapped around that of a slender youth Merlin recognised from the kitchens. Arthur’s hand was stroking down the boy’s chest and up across his hip. The boy’s eyes were closed, his head tipped back against Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur’s eyes were on Merlin.
“This is Gareth,’ Arthur called across the room to him, when Merlin turned away, intending to ignore him. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
Merlin put down the bowl and turned toward the bed. The boy had opened his eyes and was gazing adoringly at Arthur. “Look at him” Arthur challenged, still staring at Merlin. He pulled the blankets away further, so that Gareth’s body was completely exposed to Merlin’s eyes. The boy didn’t turn away from Arthur, but Merlin could see the blush staining his cheeks.
“Stop it,” Merlin said. “You’re embarrassing him.”
“No, I’m not,” Arthur contradicted. He turned his head and dropped a kiss on Gareth’s welcoming lips. “He’s had a wonderful night. He knows his body is gorgeous and exactly what to do with it.” The last became a murmur, making the boy smile. Arthur was still watching Merlin.
“Are you intending to get up?” Merlin asked. “Or shall I leave your clothes out for you? Perhaps Gareth can help you dress.” He looked pointedly at the clothes strewn on the floor beside the bed.
“I’m not sure we’re done here yet,” Arthur replied, flatly, running his hand down Gareth’s stomach. “You can join us, or you can shut the door when you leave.”
It took all Merlin’s willpower not to slam the door behind him.
*
He cornered Gareth later as he was leaving the scullery. The youth’s eyes widened when he recognised Merlin.
“Please, sir,” he whispered urgently. “Don’t say anything.” He looked frantically over his shoulder and Merlin felt suddenly, unbearably sick.
“He didn’t force you, did he?” he asked, horrified, before remembering the adoring expression on Gareth’s face that morning.
“No!” Gareth gasped. “No. He’s the prince: I was honoured. And it was…” he blushed. “It was good.”
Merlin looked away.
“I mean, I’m a bit sore this morning, after… well, I guess you know all about that…”
His voice trailed off when Merlin’s head jerked back towards him. “What?” Merlin asked sharply, in confusion.
Gareth blinked, then he too looked confused. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, leaning closer to Merlin. “I though… I assumed… I mean, the prince is so fond of you. I guess we all thought…”
Merlin opened his mouth by there were no words to come out. “Nnno,” he stuttered.
“But…” Gareth looked ever more confused. “When we were… he said… um.” He was getting redder by the second. “Ah, I have to get back to work,” he indicated over his shoulder, then ducked away.
Merlin stared after him.
*
The following morning when Merlin knocked cautiously on Arthur’s door the prince called for him to enter.
So Merlin did, warily. And almost backed right out again.
Arthur was lying crosswise on his bed, thrusting into the willing body of the serving girl beneath him. She was lying with her head tipped back off the side of the mattress, her eyes closed and her hair tumbling in messy curls to brush the floor. Arthur’s arms were braced either side of her shoulders, his long golden back gleaming with sweat, his hair in his eyes and sticking to his forehead.
Merlin turned his back on them when Arthur raised his head. “Merlin…” the prince said, and his voice was rough around his laboured breaths. “I’m going hunting later - can you polish my better pair of boots,” as if, for all the world, it were a normal circumstance in which to have a conversation.
“Yes, sire,” Merlin replied, crouching by the hearth and concentrating hard on not looking at the prince.
“And after that,” Arthur had to raise his voice over the whimpering sounds the girl was making, little keening cries that made Merlin dig his fingernails into his palms. “Could you make sure that the kitchen has packed a lunch because I don’t know what time we’ll be back.”
“Yes, sire,” Merlin said again, poking at the slow burning fire and wishing he could use his magic to get it going faster. Anything to be out of this room.
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, and this time Merlin did turn his head. He saw Arthur’s head tip back, his long neck exposed, his body arched up. A shudder ran down the visible muscles in his back and then his head dropped forward onto the girl’s breast.
She reached up to tangle her fingers possessively in his hair.
Merlin stood frozen, staring at them.
After a moment Arthur pushed himself up, pressed a warm kiss to the side of the girl’s jaw, then climbed off her, slapping gently at her hip to encourage her to rise also. He pulled on the trousers that were flung across the arm of his chair and sat down at the table.
“Breakfast?” he said pointedly to Merlin.
Merlin swallowed hard, then hurried across to the basket he’d brought with him into the room, flustered. The girl on the bed was lazily pulling a shift over her head and across her naked body and Merlin tried hard not to see the way her thighs glistened with moisture.
He served Arthur’s breakfast without looking at him, uncomfortably aware that his own breeches were tight around the groin and really, really willing Arthur to ignore that fact.
To his amazement the prince didn’t comment, focussing his attention on the bread and fruit instead. He didn’t speak until after the girl had finished dressing and crossed to the table. Arthur reached up and kissed her, soft and thorough, and then she left, smiling, closing the door firmly behind her.
“Did you like her?” Arthur asked, as he dipped his bread in a pool of honey on his plate.
“She seemed… nice,” Merlin replied noncommittally after the silence had stretched into an uncomfortable length.
Arthur nearly choked with laughter. “I suppose that’s one word for it,” he said, his eyebrows dancing. “She was insatiable. I had her three times this morning.” He looked up at Merlin, who hastily looked away and began to gather the empty bowls and plates back into the basket. “Her name’s Eluned,” Arthur said, his fingers brushing the back of Merlin’s hand and stilling them. “You should seek her out. She’d be good for you.”
Merlin pulled his hands away firmly. “I can do without your leftovers, sire,” he said.
Arthur laughed again. “Oh, come on. I only meant you’d have fun. She’d loosen you up a bit. Stop you being so prudish.”
Merlin left the room and has he closed the door he heard Arthur call out his name again and chose to pretend he didn’t hear it.
*
Merlin had thought that after that experience nothing could be quite as excruciating.
He wasn’t at all prepared for the king to call him aside that afternoon.
“Ah, Merlin,” Uther said as he passed in the corridor. “Just the person I wanted to see.”
Merlin’s heart stopped and his throat closed up, but the king was smiling in a friendly fashion, and it wasn’t as though Merlin could refuse to follow him when Uther opened the door to his audience room and motioned Merlin inside.
“Now,” the king said, sitting down in his chair and pouring himself a goblet of wine. “I know that you are very loyal to my son. Very loyal. And I admire that.”
Merlin muttered something that could have been agreement, he wasn’t even sure himself.
Uther apparently took this as an acceptable response, or he was used to unclear mumbling in his presence. “There’s something you can do for me,” the king said, and Merlin bobbed his head.
“Don’t be so nervous,” Uther smiled, and Merlin didn’t relax one bit. But he did force a bit of a smile to his face in response.
“Good boy,” the king said, patting him on the arm. “Now, can’t you do something about my son’s behaviour?”
“Your highness?” Merlin asked, perplexed.
“Well,” Uther said, leaning back in his chair and taking a mouthful from his goblet. “I’ve tried talking to him, but it evidently hasn’t made any difference at all.”
“I’m not sure I understand, sir, I’m only the prince’s manservant.”
Uther frowned. “But, alas, he listens to you. He seems to value you in a way significantly above your station.”
Merlin blushed. “I’m not sure that’s true any more,” he muttered.
Uther looked at him piercingly. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, honestly. And Merlin looked at him in surprise.
“What was it you wanted me to do?” he asked.
Uther sighed. “Try and speak to my son. While he is the Crown Prince, his behaviour is starting to go beyond what is acceptable.”
“His behaviour?”
“Well it would be quite nice if there were a few servants left in the castle that my son hadn’t slept with,” the king said.
“He hasn’t slept with me,” Merlin replied hotly.
“Yes,” Uther replied wryly. “And I suspect that might be the problem.”
Merlin stared at him.
Uther smiled. “Well, that’s given you something to think about. Run along now.” He waved at the door and Merlin escaped as fast as he could, heart racing.
*
All afternoon the king’s words circled in his head, making him flush, making his stomach flip-flop unpleasantly.
He tried to pretend that he was too ill to serve Arthur that evening, curling on his bed, clutching at his stomach and moaning. He did feel sick with nerves, and he tried to will himself to vomit as evidence for his ailment.
As it was Gaius frowned at him and told him to get up and that there was nothing wrong with him.
Sometimes living with the royal physician had serious drawbacks.
And so Merlin found himself loitering outside Arthur’s door, trying to come up with more errands he needed to do first, things that would take him away from the prince. But, to his amazement, he could find nothing on his usually excessively long list of chores that he could use as an excuse for not attending Arthur.
So he knocked, and went into the room.
Arthur was sitting in his chair, lacing up his boots as though he were intending to go outside.
“Sire?” Merlin asked. “Is there something I can get you?”
Arthur glanced up through his hair and shook his head.
“No, I don’t need anything. You can go to bed, Merlin.”
The dismissal was brief, easy. And despite twisting himself in knots to enter the room, Merlin felt disappointed.
“Oh,” he said. And then, because he was strangely reluctant to leave now that he was here: “Where are you going?”
“Do you really want to know the answer to that?” Arthur asked, sitting up and reaching for his second boot. “I’m going to the laundry room to see which young lady I can charm.” He didn’t look up at Merlin, couched his words as dry facts.
Merlin felt his heart sink within him, the twisting in his stomach tightening into pain.
“Don’t… “ he said, before he could stop himself, the words a blurted impulse. And Arthur lifted his head with a sigh, anticipating the launch of another argument. “Take me instead,” Merlin finished, the words harsh and tight in his throat. And he almost wished them back as soon as they were spoken since Arthur’s eyes widened in genuine surprise.
Then the prince smiled, a fond smile and the hint of a laugh.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin,” he said, going back to lacing his boot.
“I mean it, sire,” Merlin whispered, his mouth going dry. “Don’t go looking for someone else when I am right here.”
Arthur stood and crossed the room until he was eye to eye with Merlin. “Really?” he asked, and his tone was testing, expecting Merlin to change his mind.
Merlin nodded, nervously.
Arthur smiled. “Well then,” he said, as though he had discovered something satisfying. “In that case there is no need for me to go out into the cold. Could you not have said this before I put my boots on?” He grinned at Merlin, the wide, pleased smile that usually made Merlin melt. But now Arthur was looking at him in a predatory fashion and the twisting nausea in Merlin’s stomach was back.
“What are you waiting for?” Arthur asked, bending to unlace the boots he had just put on. “Get undressed and go lie on the bed.”
Hesitantly Merlin did as he was told, folding his shirt nervously in his hands, then adding his trousers to the pile. He could feel Arthur’s eyes on his back and it made him tingle. He crossed slowly to the bed, and sat. When he glanced at Arthur the prince was watching him with an unreadable expression, unfastening his own shirt.
Merlin lay back on the bed, his hands hovering close to his groin as he tried to resist the urge to hide himself from view.
Arthur prowled across the room, his trousers riding low on his hips, his shoulders smooth and golden, the hair on his chest a shade darker than that on his head and Merlin thought that the world wasn’t fair, that now that he could see Arthur he knew that he’d wanted him for a long time.
And all the same he dreaded what would happen.
Arthur paused by the bed, his hand resting on the post at its foot, and his eyes raked up and down Merlin’s body. For a moment they just looked at each other.
Then with an anguished moan, Arthur turned away. He picked up Merlin’s clothes and threw them at him.
“You’re trembling, Merlin. What do you think I am? Get dressed.” And he turned away, wiping his face with his hand, shrugging his shirt back on, and going to stand in front of the fire, glaring into the flames.
Without speaking Merlin pulled his trousers on, fumbling with the tie.
“Why did you do that?” Arthur asked him, without turning, his voice emotionless. “Why did you offer yourself to me like that?”
And Merlin bit his lip, clutched his shirt to his chest with one hand and held his trousers closed with the other.
“I thought,” he said, then paused and swallowed. “They only sleep with you because you are the prince.”
Arthur laughed, a harsh dry sound with no humour, and he lifted his head to look at Merlin.
“And you think this is better?” he asked. “That I’d rather have you because you see it as a duty?” He laughed again, harsh and dry.
“No…” Merlin said, stepping forward, his palm sweaty against his trousers where he clutched them to him. “I didn’t mean it like that…”
Arthur turned and glared at him. “No?” he spat. “You didn’t decide to give me what I wanted? You didn’t feel some obligation to me, to lie down and let me take you?”
“Give you… what?”
Arthur sighed and ran a hand across his face wearily. “Don’t make me say it, Merlin. You obviously found out that I have a tendency to call out your name when… well, yes.” He glanced up. “Don’t make it worse.”
“What?” Merlin said again, tentatively reaching out to Arthur with the hand that wasn’t holding his clothes to him.
“I’d rather sleep with them. They want me, even if it’s only because I’m the prince.”
“Arthur?” Merlin said, swallowing. “I didn’t know. I mean, I wasn’t offering…” He sighed, biting his lips. “I want you, Arthur. And not because of that.”
Arthur finally looked at him. Merlin looked back as evenly as he could, blushing.
It was Arthur’s turn to say, “What?”
“I want you,” Merlin said, more sure this time. “You. Not the prince. I want Arthur. It’s been killing me that you’ve ignored me and gone to find others for your bed. While all the time I’ve been right here.”
The tentative hope in Arthur’s eyes had been replaced by something else, something darker, and firmer, and more predatory. He moved into Merlin’s space, backing him up against the table.
“Hold on to something because I’m going to kiss you,” he growled.
Merlin opened his mouth to protest the arrogance of this statement, and then Arthur’s mouth covered his with hot aggressive lips and Arthur’s tongue was pressing against his and it turned out that Merlin did need to hold on to something. So he dropped his shirt, dug his fingers into Arthur’s shoulders, and kissed back.
And Arthur was really there, really kissing him, hot and strong under his hands, and the edge of the table was digging into Merlin’s lower back, and his trousers were sliding off his hips now that he was no longer holding them up, and Arthur’s hands were warm against his bare back, his fingers splayed and possessive while his mouth pressed urgently, urgently against Merlin’s, teeth clacking messily, lips wet and smooth and hot. And Merlin curled his fingers around the back of Arthur’s neck, clutching at the silky hairs, pulling him closer, closer, closer…
And then Arthur was kissing wetly along his jaw and Merlin was panting for breath, tingling in all the places where their bodies touched. And it wasn’t fair that Arthur still had his shirt on. He tried to pull at it, and Arthur moved away with a laugh of childish delight.
“You do want me,” he said, looking at Merlin in amazement.
“Well, yes,” Merlin said. “I thought we’d already agreed on that.”
And Arthur kissed him again, sweetly, catching Merlin’s lower lip between his own. And Merlin didn’t shut his eyes, stared instead at the golden curl of Arthur’s eyelashes against his cheek. And then the kiss was over, and Arthur’s fingers were drifting over Merlin’s lips, across his cheek and down his neck.
“Uh, do you want…” he began hesitantly, then stopped. “I mean, just because I, um, that doesn’t mean…”
And then Merlin laughed, and pushed Arthur away slightly, enough to look down at his own body, at the way his unlaced trousers were staying up only due to the fact that they were caught on his erection, pressed between his stomach and Arthur’s.
And then Arthur was laughing too, teasing him - “now that’s a good look” - and the nervousness dissipated. They pressed together again for another kiss, as though they couldn’t quite believe they had permission to do that, their hands reaching and touching, clutching and pulling and stroking at each other, as if to gorge on the sensation.
“So,” Arthur whispered, deep and rough, in Merlin’s ear. “You wouldn’t be entirely averse to taking this over to the bed?”
Then Merlin pushed him out of the way, limbs flailing as he undressed as swiftly as possible and stumbled over to the bed, almost tripping over Arthur’s boots.
The prince followed, laughing again. “Not so eager, then?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
Merlin blushed, but grinned back, holding his hands out to Arthur. Arthur pulled off his shirt, dropping it carelessly on the floor, then stepped closer so that Merlin could sit up and untie his trousers.
Merlin had helped the prince dress - and undress - many times before, but he’d never peeled Arthur out of his trousers, his breath hot against Arthur’s stomach and thighs, he’d never eased the trousers away from Arthur’s penis with gentle, curious fingers, touching tentatively, lingering slightly longer than was necessary.
And Arthur, once naked, had never smiled down at him and taken his hand, sucking Merlin’s fingers into his mouth before clambering over him to sprawl beside him in the bed.
“So, can I…?” Arthur asked, reaching out, his hands hovering milimeters from Merlin’s skin.
“Yes,” Merlin grinned, pulling at Arthur’s wrist until his hand was splayed across Merlin’s stomach. “I would have thought that you, of all people, knew how to behave when you had someone naked in your bed.”
Arthur blushed, to Merlin’s astonishment. “Well, yes,” he muttered. “But that was them and this is you.”
Merlin could feel his face hurting from all the grinning and he had the distinct feeling that he looked like a bit of a fool, but then Arthur’s fingers were running across his stomach, tugging slightly on the dark hair that grew in a trail across it, and then Arthur’s hand - Arthur’s hand - was wrapped around his cock, firm and warm, and Merlin pressed up into the touch.
Arthur’s mouth was hot and wet against his jawline, mouthing open kisses down Merlin’s neck as he moved over him, pressing closer to him, and Merlin knew that he was making small noises of encouragement, his fingers carding through Arthur’s hair. But that was fine, because Arthur was making little pleased gasps against his skin, and Merlin hadn’t even touched him yet.
Arthur’s mouth, leaving a trail of wetness that cooled tingling in the air, made its way across Merlin’s collarbones with careful intent, as though Arthur meant to kiss and lick every inch of Merlin’s skin. His hand, still wrapped loosely around Merlin’s erection, moved slightly, enough to keep Merlin squirming beneath him but not enough to bring him any real relief. Merlin’s hands were on his head, his shoulders, scrabbling through his hair as he descended down his body, lapping at his nipples and biting gently at his ribs. “You need to eat more,” he murmured against Merlin’s torso. “You’re too skinny.”
“I’m sorry, sire,” Merlin started sarcastically, his words morphing into a strangled moan as Arthur’s fingers tightened around him.
“So you should be,” Arthur retorted, mouthing wet kisses across Merlin’s hips, pressing his tongue into the join where Merlin’s leg became his body. “Can’t have you wasting away.”
Merlin desperately wanted to push Arthur’s head over, wanted him to stop teasing and reach his destination. He pushed his hips up, rubbing himself against Arthur’s hand where it now lay curled around him close to Arthur’s face. Arthur turned his head slightly from where he had been kissing Merlin’s hip, and the tip of Merlin’s cock grazed across his cheek leaving a silvery trail of precome. Merlin moaned at the contact and his hips jerked forward.
“Steady,” Arthur murmured, and his words vibrated through Merlin’s skin. Then Arthur’s hand was moving away, and Merlin was whimpering with displeasure, aware that he sounded desperate, but beyond caring. Arthur’s fingers gripped his hips, and Merlin tried, perversely, to wriggle, making Arthur’s hands tighten against him. Merlin hoped he’d have marks there in the morning to prove to himself that this really happened.
Arthur was kissing his thighs now, warm and butterfly-soft, and it almost tickled when he brushed his lips across the sensitive white skin. “You taste wonderful,” Arthur told him, licking his way across Merlin’s inner thigh. “I can’t believe you are letting me do this.”
Merlin groaned in frustration. “Anytime you want, sire. Just get on with it.”
“Bossy, aren’t we?” Arthur whispered against him, and his tongue darted out, hot and wet against Merlin’s balls. Merlin twisted beneath his hands. “Also,” Arthur murmured, his nose pressing against the side of Merlin’s erection while his lips ghosted against the root. “I think you can probably call me Arthur when I’m about to take your cock into my mouth.”
Merlin’s “Arthur!” came out as a strangled yelp as Arthur was as good as his word. Harsh fingers held him down against the bed while he tried to thrust up into that delicious heat.
And yes, he was annoyed that Arthur had had just a long string of casual lovers, but if that was how he’d learned to do this, then Merlin was just going to have to forgive him.
He’d forgotten how incredibly wonderful it felt to have someone’s mouth on him like this. Or maybe he’d never known, his previous experiences more exploratory than intense. Arthur, though, Arthur knew what he was doing, balancing the suction and the movement until Merlin was sure he could see lights dancing in front of his eyes. And then, when he thought he was about to come, Arthur backed off, licked flat and broad across the underside of his cock, and said, “Not yet,” grinning up at Merlin with lips swollen and glistening.
And Merlin could do nothing more than lie panting on the bed while Arthur’s tongue danced around his balls, sucking them gently into his mouth and lapping at their undersides. Arthur’s fingers were back on his erection now, a loose circle, sliding up and down, keeping his on the edge without pushing him far enough. And when Merlin braced himself up on his elbows and looked down his body there was something obscene about the prince kneeling between his thighs, his eyes closed in pleasure while he licked and suckled at the skin between Merlin’s legs.
And it was an odd feeling, Arthur’s tongue was going lower and lower, reaching back and back and Merlin almost wanted to stop him, wasn’t sure he wanted to confront that tingling that he could feel humming just below the surface of his skin. And then Arthur’s tongue brushed across the entrance to his anus, and Merlin couldn’t help the shiver of shock and pleasure that went through him, making him collapse back against the pillows and spread his legs as wide open as he could.
Arthur hummed appreciatively against him and licked again, his tongue hot and almost rough against Merlin’s sensitive skin. “What are you doing?” he asked, but Arthur didn’t answer, merely pressed his tongue harder against Merlin, the very tip breaching him slightly, before pulling back to lap across the entrance. He’d let go of Merlin’s cock now, which was lying fat and leaking across his stomach, and was using both his hands to hold Merlin’s thighs stretched apart and tipped upward, giving himself as much space as possible.
And it wasn’t like anything Merlin had felt before - had even thought of before - but once he’d gotten passed the oddness, it was wonderful. Arthur’s mobile lips kissed and suckled him, his tongue easing in and out of Merlin, wetting him, teasing him…
And then there was something else, ever so gently, easing in beside Arthur’s tongue, feeling giant and slightly sore inside him, but the pressure was delicious, even though it made him squirm uncomfortably. “Relax,” Arthur murmured against him. “I promise it will feel good.” And he licked more, slicking and opening where he’d pressed the tip of his finger into Merlin.
And so Merlin did try to relax, to trust Arthur’s word, and he felt Arthur move slightly, easing the tip of his finger back and forth. And then Arthur’s mouth was back on his cock, sucking it deeply into that wet heat, while he still played with Merlin’s arse with his hand.
And the surge of pleasure Merlin felt when Arthur hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head really did make up for - and somehow intensified - the feeling of the intrusion in his arse. And as he arched up, surrendering once again to Arthur’s ministrations, he felt himself relax, the finger inside him press further and while it still felt very strange, he began to like it.
So he let himself be played, eased back and forth between Arthur’s mouth and his finger, the pleasure gradually building deep inside him, coiling dark and elusive below his stomach, teased and coaxed by Arthur’s movements. And he felt himself striving, grasping for that edge, his hips thrusting all by themselves now, pressing his cock into Arthur’s mouth, then opening easily to engulf Arthur’s finger. And it was as though he was racing towards a cliff: an inevitable urgent charge, and he wanted to get there desperately, desperately and yet he never wanted this to end.
He opened his eyes and looked down at Arthur: his golden hair, his expression of bliss, one hand curled under Merlin, the other reaching back between his own legs and it was then, seeing that Arthur was getting himself off on what he was doing, that the heat inside Merlin’s belly began to hurriedly unravel, and he felt his orgasm approach like an onrushing army, curling his toes, shooting through all his nerves and spilling hot and unstoppable, into Arthur’s mouth.
The prince spluttered slightly, and stopped what he was doing, swallowing hard, his tongue darting out to catch the drips that spilled. Then he lifted his mouth away from Merlin and looked up at him.
Merlin blinked at him, trying to focus through the blur of headrush, and then Arthur was climbing back up his sensitive body to curl against his side, grinning smugly.
“Yes, okay, that was.. amazing,” Merlin said to him, once he could speak again. “You can have a limited amount of time to gloat.” And then he pulled Arthur to him, licking curiously at his mouth before kissing him thoroughly.
“I can taste me on you,” he said wonderingly, when they broke apart, staring at Arthur’s reddened lips.
“Well yes,” Arthur said, with raised eyebrows. “I would have thought you’d expect that.”
Merlin could feel himself going red as he thought about where Arthur’s mouth had been, and how it had felt. He could feel Arthur’s erection, hot and insistent against his thigh, and he pushed Arthur back a bit, so that there was enough room for him to reach down between them.
Arthur grunted softly, pressing closer again when Merlin wrapped his hand around him. And really, it didn’t feel that different to touching himself, the same soft skin stretched over a hard core. But the angle was different, and Arthur was wet against his wrist when he slid his hand forward. Arthur was looking at him intently, his mouth parted as he breathed heavily, and Merlin might never have done this before, but he wasn’t entirely ignorant of what happened between men.
“So um,” Merlin said, taking a deep breath. “Do you want to…” he paused, not knowing how to phrase it. “I mean,” he blushed, hotly. “Do you want to take me?”
And Arthur’s face lit up into a teasing grin as he leaned over and pressed a swift kiss to Merlin’s nose. “Actually,” he said, low against Merlin’s ear, “I’d quite like you to do something to me.”
For a second all Merlin could think of was what it would be like to put Arthur’s cock in his mouth and he could see Arthur grinning at him. “You don’t mind that idea?”
Merlin shook his head, saliva pooling in his mouth. “I don’t know how, I mean, I’ve never… yes, yes please.”
Then Arthur was disentangling himself from Merlin, easing Merlin’s hand away from his erection with regret, and moving across the bed to fumble down beside it. When he returned he had a little pottery vessel in his hand.
“Here,” he said, giving it to Merlin. “Use this oil to slick up your fingers, and then I want you to put them inside me, like I just showed you.”
Merlin was so surprised he was speechless, and Arthur laughed at the expression on his face. “What?” he asked. “It feels good!”
“I thought that, being the prince at all, you know, you’d be the on doing the…” Merlin couldn’t finish the sentence he was so embarrassed.
Arthur shrugged and lay back on the pillows, his body long and lean and muscled, his erection lying thick and dark across his hip. He bent his knees, letting them fall to the sides. “Mostly that is what happens,” he said. “But right now I’d really rather we did this.”
And Merlin let himself look, from Arthur’s smirk down his golden body to the dark hair that clustered between his legs, dusted his thighs and shadowed the deep crevasse of his arse. “Okay,” he said, and his voice sounded rough in his ears.
Tentatively, he reached out and touched Arthur’s cock again, running his fingers up its length and watching the shift of emotions flit across Arthur’s face. He pressed his fingers to the wet tip, then raised them to his mouth, watching Arthur’s eyes darken with lust as he tasted him. Then, very carefully, keeping his eyes on Arthur’s the whole time, he bent over and licked him, starting back in the curls of hair, up across the shaft, and ended by sucking the head slightly into his mouth.
Arthur’s eyes dropped to half closed and his body twitched. And Merlin realised that touching Arthur was going to be just as much pleasure as having Arthur touch him.
He took as much of Arthur’s cock into his mouth as he could manage, sucking at it inelegantly, while he stroked his hands up the insides of Arthur’s thighs. Arthur didn’t seem to mind his lack of experience, if the small moans he was making were any indication.
Merlin stroked gently at Arthur’s balls, rolling them between his fingers before reaching back, brushing down his perineum to flicker past his entrance. Arthur put his feet flat on the bed and pushed his hips up, willingly, forcing Merlin to pull back slightly to avoid choking.
He had to lift his mouth away from Arthur’s erection in order to see what he was doing when he poured some of the oil into the palm of his hand and then rubbed his hands together. Arthur made a small noise of discontent when Merlin moved away, but rewarded him with a long, low moan of delight when Merlin slid his slick hand up the length of him.
“Oh, yes,” Arthur sighed, his head tipping back into the pillows, and Merlin grinned, pleased with himself, as he watched Arthur’s neck and chest flush with pleasure. Arthur’s hips were writhing under his hands now, and Merlin concentrated to keep up the slip-slide of his hand on Arthur’s penis while focussing his attention on his other hand, exploring down between Arthur’s legs, leaving a glistening trail of oil along the back of his thighs and across his buttocks.
When he pressed the tip of his index finger into Arthur the prince gasped, a short, harsh breath, and Merlin froze, his finger squeezed tight in the vice of Arthur’s muscles. Then Arthur sighed and his muscles relaxed, his hips tipped further forward, and Merlin pressed more inside. When he looked up, Arthur was staring at him, his chest heaving and his mouth open.
So Merlin slid his finger out a little, then pushed it back in, the movement easy now with the oil dripping messily onto the sheets. Arthur’s lips formed an o, although no words came out. His eyes fluttered shut, then opened again to keep looking at Merlin.
Merlin smiled, awed at his power. Arthur smiled back, a deep, warm, satisfied smile. “Use two now,” he whispered. “Go on.” And so, on an out stroke, Merlin pressed his middle finger tight against his first and slid them back up into Arthur, trying not to break his rhythm.
Arthur groaned, his hand stretching up over his head to grip tightly to the headboard. “That’s it,” he murmured, then he grinned at Merlin. “Glad to see there’s some things you can learn quickly.” And then he moaned again, flexing his feet against the bed and lifting himself higher into Merlin’s hands.
And Merlin watched in amazement as Arthur rolled his body, fucking himself on Merlin’s fingers, biting his lip to contain the noises he was making, his erection sliding slickly through Merlin’s fist.
“Don’t suppress it,” Merlin whispered. “I want to hear you.”
And then he slid a third finger into Arthur’s body as the prince began to moan loudly, interspersing curses and divine invocations with Merlin’s name. It was hugely arousing for Merlin, watching the prince, arrogant, efficient, commanding Arthur coming apart under his hands.
And when Arthur lifted his head - eyes dark with need, hair mussed and sweaty - he couldn’t take his eyes of Merlin’s erection, newly returned to stand proud between his thighs.
“Oh, God, Merlin,” Arthur declared. “I want…” he licked his lips. “Please put your cock in me instead.”
And Merlin would have thought that he’d be surprised, that he’d bluster and blush at the intensity of Arthur’s gaze, at hearing those words tumble from Arthur’s lips, and yet it was easy to pull away, to pour more oil on his hands and to touch himself - and yes that felt good - all the while watching Arthur’s hungry stare. And yes, the oil dripped down his legs, and yes, he could see it staining the sheet, and yes, he’d be the one who had to clean that up, but when Arthur wrapped his legs eagerly around Merlin’s torso, hooking one as high up as he could reach across Merlin’s upper arm, and Merlin ran his oiled hands down the back of Arthur’s thighs to press against his arse, holding him open, then none of that mattered at all.
For a moment Arthur’s body resisted him, then the head was in, and they both let out a sigh of breath they’d been holding. And Arthur reached down between them to stroke himself where Merlin couldn’t reach, and Merlin pressed further forward, unable to keep his eyes off the sight of his length disappearing into Arthur, and then Arthur moaned, deep and needy, and the sound thrummed right through Merlin. And then movement was easy, the gentle press and pull of his hips, the tight, hot, vice of Arthur’s arse around him, Arthur’s hand, tugging fast, desperate, on his erection and already Merlin could feel the dark coil of his orgasm wrenching at his insides. And he tried not to see the golden expanse of Arthur’s exposed neck as he arched his back, the dusky coins of his nipples through the hair on his chest, the swollen, slick, dark head of his erection against his capable fingers, because then it would all be over, and he was determined to make it last long enough…
And then that ceased to be a problem because Arthur was shuddering beneath him, screaming out his name, and pulsing thick, white strings of come across his hand and stomach. Merlin stopped moving and watched.
Then Arthur’s eyes opened, and his legs tightened around Merlin holding him firm and close. “Do it,” he said. And Merlin complied, snapping his hips back and forth, arms trembling to keep him braced upright, chasing the tingle of need that danced just below his eyelids.
His orgasm hit him with blinding force, turning him inside out and emptying him into Arthur. For a moment everything was still, the rushing of the blood in his veins seemed deafening and the blue of Arthur’s eyes filled his vision.
And then he collapsed, landing sweaty and messy on Arthur’s chest as Arthur’s legs loosened and fell onto the bed and Merlin’s cock slipped uncomfortably from inside him.
Merlin didn’t know how long they lay there, too exhausted to speak or to move, concentrating instead on breathing. And then his skin began to cool, and he was sticking unpleasantly to Arthur, so, with a grunt of displeasure, he rolled onto his back.
“Well,” Arthur said, after a bit. “I think we should do that again.”
And Merlin laughed, his throat hoarse and his breathing still laboured.
“I told you not to go looking somewhere else, when I’m right here.”
Arthur’s hand, hot and sweaty, found his.
“It’s a deal,” he said. “Don’t ever plan to go sleep in your own bed again.”
Merlin grinned and rolled towards him, pressing a kiss to the side of Arthur’s jaw. “Oh, so now it’s okay for the prince to have a favourite?” he teased.
Arthur glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. “I think so. It’s convenient, you know. You’re always in and out of here already.”
Merlin laughed, licking gently at his ear. “As long as you don’t take me for granted.”
Arthur’s face screwed up in disbelief. “As if you’d ever let me do that.” And he stretched out his arm, wrapping Merlin up in it and holding him close against his body. “I promise I won’t,” he muttered against Merlin’s temple and his breath was hot.
They lay for a while, enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies, savouring the feeling of something beginning that had been coming for a long time.
Then, just when Merlin was going to suggest he get up and find a cloth to clean them up, Arthur spoke. “You do know,” he said quietly. “That I have to marry and produce and heir, someday. That’s my purpose.”
Merlin laughed softly against his shoulder. “Yes, Arthur, I know. Great minds have purposes, little minds have…” he paused.
“What?” Arthur asked, lifting his head so that he could look at Merlin.
“Selfishness,” Merlin replied with a grin. “I’m going to hold on to you for as long as you live.”
“Oh, okay,” Arthur agreed. Then, a moment later. “Did you just refer to yourself as a little mind? Because I’m glad to see that…”
Merlin punched his arm. “It was a turn of phrase.”
“Oh,” Arthur smirked. “If you’re sure.”
Merlin bit at his earlobe, then Arthur turned his head and kissed him.
“I wonder what my father’s going to say,” he said eventually, with a sigh.
Merlin’s laugh was strangled.
“What?”
“Can I tell you a secret? One that you’re going to want to scrub out your ears and wish you’d never heard?”
Arthur raised his eyebrows. “I suspect you’re going to whatever I say.”
Merlin shrugged. Then frowned. “I sort of think, well, I’m pretty damn sure, actually, that your father suggested that I sleep with you.”
“WHAT?” Arthur sat up, dislodging Merlin, his face twisted in a grimace of anguish. “My father what?”
“He seemed to think that if you had me in your bed you would stop whoring yourself around the castle.”
Arthur’s expression grew even darker. “That’s outrageous! I never whored myself, I merely…” he stopped, glaring at Merlin. “And you can stop laughing.”
“It is a bit funny,” Merlin replied, trying to stop his lips twitching with laughter and failing miserably.
“No, it isn’t,” Arthur retorted, crossing his arms and lying back on the bed.
Merlin looked down at him. “You have an adorable pout,” he told Arthur, kissing it.
“Don’t think you can get out of it that easily,” Arthur replied, turning his face away.
Merlin sighed, kissing Arthur’s jaw and cheek, where he could best reach. “Okay, sire,” he murmured coaxingly. “I withdraw my comment. No whoring. Just… making the most of the available resources?”
Arthur’s head turned and his eyes flashed indignantly at Merlin, although Merlin could see that he was suppressing laughter. “Actually,” he said, pointedly. “I was trying to get your attention.”
Merlin’s laughter was incredulous. “By making sure I caught you having sex? You have a truly warped mind.”
Arthur pouted. “But look, it worked.”
Merlin paused to consider. “I don’t think that’s what happened,” he said. “I think this was my doing, not yours.”
Arthur glared at him. “Absolutely not. I refuse to let you take the credit. It was my fantastic idea.”
Merlin frowned and opened his mouth with a retort, then he noticed the twinkle of amusement in Arthur’s eyes, so he leaned over and kissed him instead.
“Yes, sire,” he said against Arthur’s lips. “Of course it was your idea.”
And Arthur pinched his bottom, making him squeak. “I have the feeling you aren’t being entirely serious,” he said.
Merlin grinned. And then Arthur grinned back. Merlin thought of something. “You have to let me get some sleep,” Merlin said. “Or I won’t get all my chores done. And I won’t have anyone saying I’m not a good manservant.”
Arthur’s laughter was loud and sudden. “You’re the worst manservant I’ve ever had,” he said fondly, his hand stroking broad and warm down Merlin’s side. “But I think I can learn to live with that.”
Title: The Joye of Sexe (AKA That Arthur Is Obsessed with Sex Fic AKA The Little Porn Ficlet That Grew)
EDIT: ineptshieldmaid has informed me that the Old English for this title would be Hæmedes dreám (which is decidedly better than my tongue-in-cheek Olde Englishe version)
Fandom: BBC's Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: NC17 (very much porn)
Wordcount: 8688 (yes, it appears that the longest fic I've written in this fandom so far started out as a porn scene)
Summary: Arthur has a lot of sex.
AN: includes the Taming phrase prompt "Great Minds Have Purposes"
The more time Merlin spent as Arthur’s manservant, the more he realised that Arthur did have a lot of sex. He was certainly very discreet about it - no gossip ever ensued, but more and more frequently when Merlin arrived in the morning Arthur was ushering out a hurriedly-clad young lady. Occasionally it was a young man - and the first time Merlin saw that it made him blink in surprise.
And it wasn’t that it was a problem, after all, Arthur was the prince and could do as he liked. Merlin just wished he didn’t have to know. It was dreadfully embarrassing to run across one of the laundry maids in the corridor doing her job having walked in on Arthur sucking her nipples in bed that morning.
Merlin had knocked. And, damn him, Arthur had told him to come in.
This particular laundry maid winked knowingly at Merlin as she sauntered past, but many of the others blushed or refused to meet his eyes.
And Merlin knew that he blushed whenever he saw them.
And that squire. It took a lot of careful effort on Merlin’s part not to think about the slim, dark haired youth who’d ducked bashfully out of Arthur’s chamber when Merlin arrived that morning. And what they might have been doing together.
In public Arthur was the perfect gentleman. He teased and flirted at banquets - often under his father’s express orders to charm some lady or other - and he never, never overstepped his bounds with ladies who had a reputation to maintain. Virginal daughters of lords were hugely safe in Arthur’s company: especially since he was very wary of one trying to trap him into marriage.
Married ladies were something of a different issue… Merlin had been outraged to discover Arthur’s liaison with the wife of Sir Lionel, who had to be at least fifteen years his senior.
“Stop fussing,” Arthur told him wearily after the lady had left, her eyelashes fluttering back at Arthur as she closed the door. “It’s fine.”
“Um, she’s married,” Merlin pointed out.
“I was aware,” Arthur replied dryly. “But she was throwing herself at me. And it’s an honour for her and her husband that she shared my bed.”
Merlin raised an eyebrow.
Arthur smirked. “You don’t believe me? I assure you that sex with me is an honour!” He laughed. “But really, it is. The noble ladies will all know about our… tryst… by the end of the day and her ladyship will go up in everyone’s estimation even though nobody will ever mention it in public. Not quite the honour of getting into my father’s bed,” - Merlin pulled a face at the idea - “but an honour nonetheless.”
“And you just did it as a favour?” Merlin was highly sceptical.
Arthur shrugged on his jacket over his shirt and made for the door, glancing back at Merlin over his shoulder. “No. I did it because I like sex and she’s an attractive woman. Wash the sheets, would you?” And then he was gone, leaving Merlin to stare balefully at the huge bed and the tangle of sheets and blankets upon it.
*
“What?” Arthur asked in amusement bordering exasperation, as Merlin moved around the prince’s room tidying up in accusative silence.
It was the fourth morning that week that one of the serving girls had been in Arthur’s room when Merlin arrived.
“Nothing, sire,” Merlin replied, glowering at the prince.
“You’re such a prude!” Arthur exclaimed. “Is this because Lynette was still naked when you arrived?”
“Oh, so you do know her name,” Merlin commented, piling up the dishes on the table.
Arthur smiled in realisation, and sat down on the end of the bed. “I see. So this sullen, grumpy act of disapproval isn’t over the amount of sex I have, but over the frequent change of partners.”
Merlin glanced up at Arthur, then looked away again.
“Well, it would hardly be appropriate for me to have a favourite, now would it?”
Merlin still didn’t speak and Arthur began to feel annoyed. Merlin was only a servant. He didn’t have to justify himself. So he added spitefully, “Is it just because I’ve never propositioned you?”
Merlin’s head whipped around in shock and Arthur felt a moment of satisfaction before the guilt kicked in.
“No, sire, you can, of course, do whatever you like. I’ll take your boots for cleaning downstairs.”
And then he was gone, and Arthur was left sitting on his bed, running over the conversation in his head and failing to understand what had happened at all.
*
It had been a week and a half since Merlin had found anyone in Arthur’s room. He wasn’t sure if the prince, sensing his discomfort, had decided to be more discreet, or whether there hadn’t been any lovers attending him. Certainly some mornings Arthur was still in bed when Merlin arrived, and the prince was alone. Maybe he wasn’t letting them stay the night anymore. Whatever the reason, it allowed Merlin to relax.
Too soon, apparently.
“Merlin?” Arthur asked from the bed, lounging back on the pillows and making no move to get up and start the day. “Have you ever had sex?”
Luckily Merlin had his back to Arthur when the prince spoke, so he had a moment to compose his expression before he turned. “I don’t see that that’s any of your business, sire,” he replied as politely as he could. He thought of the two girls he’d had sex with: both times it had been clumsy and embarrassing. He supposed when one was a prince one didn’t have these problems.
Arthur’s mouth was twisting into a pensive frown and Merlin racked his brains for a reason to escape before the conversation continued. “Is there anything else you want, sire, or can I run some errands for Gaius?”
Arthur sighed.
“Yes, there is something else, Merlin. This is getting ridiculous. If you have something to say I’d rather you just said it. All this stomping and glaring is very annoying. I know you don’t approve of my behaviour, but really it’s none of your business who I sleep with. What would you have me do, live like a monk?”
“No,” Merlin snapped back. “But perhaps you should stick to one person who cares about you, rather than falling into bed with anyone with a pulse!”
He saw the prince’s expression become one of rage, and then Arthur was out of bed and far too close, his furious face inches from Merlin’s. “I pick my bedmates with great care!” he roared. “I’d never sleep with someone who might be hurt by the experience, who might lose their reputation or who might not actually want to. I assure you every one of them is more than willing.”
“Yes,” Merlin said softly, stepping backwards, away from Arthur. “Because you are the prince.”
For a moment Arthur remained motionless, then his face became shuttered, his posture deflated and he turned back towards the bed. “You can go now.” His voice was hard.
Merlin moved forward, his hand out to brush Arthur’s bare shoulder, his eyes on the back of the prince’s head as he tried to ignore the fact that Arthur was naked. “I - ”
“I said go,” Arthur snarled.
Merlin went.
*
Whatever balance they might have come to in the previous week was now gone. Merlin was certain that Arthur was deliberately provoking him - every morning there was a half dressed servant in Arthur’s chamber and when Merlin let them out Arthur stared at him defiantly, daring him to comment.
When they were alone the silence was icy, and Merlin left as quickly as possible after completing his chores.
The sixth day after their fight, when Merlin knocked on the door and was bade to enter he barely glanced at the bed. It wasn’t until he’d heated the water and begun to bank down the fire that he noticed Arthur wasn’t getting up. He glanced over at the bed and met Arthur’s challenging gaze. The prince lay on his side, the blankets pushed down to his waist, his muscular body wrapped around that of a slender youth Merlin recognised from the kitchens. Arthur’s hand was stroking down the boy’s chest and up across his hip. The boy’s eyes were closed, his head tipped back against Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur’s eyes were on Merlin.
“This is Gareth,’ Arthur called across the room to him, when Merlin turned away, intending to ignore him. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
Merlin put down the bowl and turned toward the bed. The boy had opened his eyes and was gazing adoringly at Arthur. “Look at him” Arthur challenged, still staring at Merlin. He pulled the blankets away further, so that Gareth’s body was completely exposed to Merlin’s eyes. The boy didn’t turn away from Arthur, but Merlin could see the blush staining his cheeks.
“Stop it,” Merlin said. “You’re embarrassing him.”
“No, I’m not,” Arthur contradicted. He turned his head and dropped a kiss on Gareth’s welcoming lips. “He’s had a wonderful night. He knows his body is gorgeous and exactly what to do with it.” The last became a murmur, making the boy smile. Arthur was still watching Merlin.
“Are you intending to get up?” Merlin asked. “Or shall I leave your clothes out for you? Perhaps Gareth can help you dress.” He looked pointedly at the clothes strewn on the floor beside the bed.
“I’m not sure we’re done here yet,” Arthur replied, flatly, running his hand down Gareth’s stomach. “You can join us, or you can shut the door when you leave.”
It took all Merlin’s willpower not to slam the door behind him.
*
He cornered Gareth later as he was leaving the scullery. The youth’s eyes widened when he recognised Merlin.
“Please, sir,” he whispered urgently. “Don’t say anything.” He looked frantically over his shoulder and Merlin felt suddenly, unbearably sick.
“He didn’t force you, did he?” he asked, horrified, before remembering the adoring expression on Gareth’s face that morning.
“No!” Gareth gasped. “No. He’s the prince: I was honoured. And it was…” he blushed. “It was good.”
Merlin looked away.
“I mean, I’m a bit sore this morning, after… well, I guess you know all about that…”
His voice trailed off when Merlin’s head jerked back towards him. “What?” Merlin asked sharply, in confusion.
Gareth blinked, then he too looked confused. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, leaning closer to Merlin. “I though… I assumed… I mean, the prince is so fond of you. I guess we all thought…”
Merlin opened his mouth by there were no words to come out. “Nnno,” he stuttered.
“But…” Gareth looked ever more confused. “When we were… he said… um.” He was getting redder by the second. “Ah, I have to get back to work,” he indicated over his shoulder, then ducked away.
Merlin stared after him.
*
The following morning when Merlin knocked cautiously on Arthur’s door the prince called for him to enter.
So Merlin did, warily. And almost backed right out again.
Arthur was lying crosswise on his bed, thrusting into the willing body of the serving girl beneath him. She was lying with her head tipped back off the side of the mattress, her eyes closed and her hair tumbling in messy curls to brush the floor. Arthur’s arms were braced either side of her shoulders, his long golden back gleaming with sweat, his hair in his eyes and sticking to his forehead.
Merlin turned his back on them when Arthur raised his head. “Merlin…” the prince said, and his voice was rough around his laboured breaths. “I’m going hunting later - can you polish my better pair of boots,” as if, for all the world, it were a normal circumstance in which to have a conversation.
“Yes, sire,” Merlin replied, crouching by the hearth and concentrating hard on not looking at the prince.
“And after that,” Arthur had to raise his voice over the whimpering sounds the girl was making, little keening cries that made Merlin dig his fingernails into his palms. “Could you make sure that the kitchen has packed a lunch because I don’t know what time we’ll be back.”
“Yes, sire,” Merlin said again, poking at the slow burning fire and wishing he could use his magic to get it going faster. Anything to be out of this room.
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, and this time Merlin did turn his head. He saw Arthur’s head tip back, his long neck exposed, his body arched up. A shudder ran down the visible muscles in his back and then his head dropped forward onto the girl’s breast.
She reached up to tangle her fingers possessively in his hair.
Merlin stood frozen, staring at them.
After a moment Arthur pushed himself up, pressed a warm kiss to the side of the girl’s jaw, then climbed off her, slapping gently at her hip to encourage her to rise also. He pulled on the trousers that were flung across the arm of his chair and sat down at the table.
“Breakfast?” he said pointedly to Merlin.
Merlin swallowed hard, then hurried across to the basket he’d brought with him into the room, flustered. The girl on the bed was lazily pulling a shift over her head and across her naked body and Merlin tried hard not to see the way her thighs glistened with moisture.
He served Arthur’s breakfast without looking at him, uncomfortably aware that his own breeches were tight around the groin and really, really willing Arthur to ignore that fact.
To his amazement the prince didn’t comment, focussing his attention on the bread and fruit instead. He didn’t speak until after the girl had finished dressing and crossed to the table. Arthur reached up and kissed her, soft and thorough, and then she left, smiling, closing the door firmly behind her.
“Did you like her?” Arthur asked, as he dipped his bread in a pool of honey on his plate.
“She seemed… nice,” Merlin replied noncommittally after the silence had stretched into an uncomfortable length.
Arthur nearly choked with laughter. “I suppose that’s one word for it,” he said, his eyebrows dancing. “She was insatiable. I had her three times this morning.” He looked up at Merlin, who hastily looked away and began to gather the empty bowls and plates back into the basket. “Her name’s Eluned,” Arthur said, his fingers brushing the back of Merlin’s hand and stilling them. “You should seek her out. She’d be good for you.”
Merlin pulled his hands away firmly. “I can do without your leftovers, sire,” he said.
Arthur laughed again. “Oh, come on. I only meant you’d have fun. She’d loosen you up a bit. Stop you being so prudish.”
Merlin left the room and has he closed the door he heard Arthur call out his name again and chose to pretend he didn’t hear it.
*
Merlin had thought that after that experience nothing could be quite as excruciating.
He wasn’t at all prepared for the king to call him aside that afternoon.
“Ah, Merlin,” Uther said as he passed in the corridor. “Just the person I wanted to see.”
Merlin’s heart stopped and his throat closed up, but the king was smiling in a friendly fashion, and it wasn’t as though Merlin could refuse to follow him when Uther opened the door to his audience room and motioned Merlin inside.
“Now,” the king said, sitting down in his chair and pouring himself a goblet of wine. “I know that you are very loyal to my son. Very loyal. And I admire that.”
Merlin muttered something that could have been agreement, he wasn’t even sure himself.
Uther apparently took this as an acceptable response, or he was used to unclear mumbling in his presence. “There’s something you can do for me,” the king said, and Merlin bobbed his head.
“Don’t be so nervous,” Uther smiled, and Merlin didn’t relax one bit. But he did force a bit of a smile to his face in response.
“Good boy,” the king said, patting him on the arm. “Now, can’t you do something about my son’s behaviour?”
“Your highness?” Merlin asked, perplexed.
“Well,” Uther said, leaning back in his chair and taking a mouthful from his goblet. “I’ve tried talking to him, but it evidently hasn’t made any difference at all.”
“I’m not sure I understand, sir, I’m only the prince’s manservant.”
Uther frowned. “But, alas, he listens to you. He seems to value you in a way significantly above your station.”
Merlin blushed. “I’m not sure that’s true any more,” he muttered.
Uther looked at him piercingly. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, honestly. And Merlin looked at him in surprise.
“What was it you wanted me to do?” he asked.
Uther sighed. “Try and speak to my son. While he is the Crown Prince, his behaviour is starting to go beyond what is acceptable.”
“His behaviour?”
“Well it would be quite nice if there were a few servants left in the castle that my son hadn’t slept with,” the king said.
“He hasn’t slept with me,” Merlin replied hotly.
“Yes,” Uther replied wryly. “And I suspect that might be the problem.”
Merlin stared at him.
Uther smiled. “Well, that’s given you something to think about. Run along now.” He waved at the door and Merlin escaped as fast as he could, heart racing.
*
All afternoon the king’s words circled in his head, making him flush, making his stomach flip-flop unpleasantly.
He tried to pretend that he was too ill to serve Arthur that evening, curling on his bed, clutching at his stomach and moaning. He did feel sick with nerves, and he tried to will himself to vomit as evidence for his ailment.
As it was Gaius frowned at him and told him to get up and that there was nothing wrong with him.
Sometimes living with the royal physician had serious drawbacks.
And so Merlin found himself loitering outside Arthur’s door, trying to come up with more errands he needed to do first, things that would take him away from the prince. But, to his amazement, he could find nothing on his usually excessively long list of chores that he could use as an excuse for not attending Arthur.
So he knocked, and went into the room.
Arthur was sitting in his chair, lacing up his boots as though he were intending to go outside.
“Sire?” Merlin asked. “Is there something I can get you?”
Arthur glanced up through his hair and shook his head.
“No, I don’t need anything. You can go to bed, Merlin.”
The dismissal was brief, easy. And despite twisting himself in knots to enter the room, Merlin felt disappointed.
“Oh,” he said. And then, because he was strangely reluctant to leave now that he was here: “Where are you going?”
“Do you really want to know the answer to that?” Arthur asked, sitting up and reaching for his second boot. “I’m going to the laundry room to see which young lady I can charm.” He didn’t look up at Merlin, couched his words as dry facts.
Merlin felt his heart sink within him, the twisting in his stomach tightening into pain.
“Don’t… “ he said, before he could stop himself, the words a blurted impulse. And Arthur lifted his head with a sigh, anticipating the launch of another argument. “Take me instead,” Merlin finished, the words harsh and tight in his throat. And he almost wished them back as soon as they were spoken since Arthur’s eyes widened in genuine surprise.
Then the prince smiled, a fond smile and the hint of a laugh.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin,” he said, going back to lacing his boot.
“I mean it, sire,” Merlin whispered, his mouth going dry. “Don’t go looking for someone else when I am right here.”
Arthur stood and crossed the room until he was eye to eye with Merlin. “Really?” he asked, and his tone was testing, expecting Merlin to change his mind.
Merlin nodded, nervously.
Arthur smiled. “Well then,” he said, as though he had discovered something satisfying. “In that case there is no need for me to go out into the cold. Could you not have said this before I put my boots on?” He grinned at Merlin, the wide, pleased smile that usually made Merlin melt. But now Arthur was looking at him in a predatory fashion and the twisting nausea in Merlin’s stomach was back.
“What are you waiting for?” Arthur asked, bending to unlace the boots he had just put on. “Get undressed and go lie on the bed.”
Hesitantly Merlin did as he was told, folding his shirt nervously in his hands, then adding his trousers to the pile. He could feel Arthur’s eyes on his back and it made him tingle. He crossed slowly to the bed, and sat. When he glanced at Arthur the prince was watching him with an unreadable expression, unfastening his own shirt.
Merlin lay back on the bed, his hands hovering close to his groin as he tried to resist the urge to hide himself from view.
Arthur prowled across the room, his trousers riding low on his hips, his shoulders smooth and golden, the hair on his chest a shade darker than that on his head and Merlin thought that the world wasn’t fair, that now that he could see Arthur he knew that he’d wanted him for a long time.
And all the same he dreaded what would happen.
Arthur paused by the bed, his hand resting on the post at its foot, and his eyes raked up and down Merlin’s body. For a moment they just looked at each other.
Then with an anguished moan, Arthur turned away. He picked up Merlin’s clothes and threw them at him.
“You’re trembling, Merlin. What do you think I am? Get dressed.” And he turned away, wiping his face with his hand, shrugging his shirt back on, and going to stand in front of the fire, glaring into the flames.
Without speaking Merlin pulled his trousers on, fumbling with the tie.
“Why did you do that?” Arthur asked him, without turning, his voice emotionless. “Why did you offer yourself to me like that?”
And Merlin bit his lip, clutched his shirt to his chest with one hand and held his trousers closed with the other.
“I thought,” he said, then paused and swallowed. “They only sleep with you because you are the prince.”
Arthur laughed, a harsh dry sound with no humour, and he lifted his head to look at Merlin.
“And you think this is better?” he asked. “That I’d rather have you because you see it as a duty?” He laughed again, harsh and dry.
“No…” Merlin said, stepping forward, his palm sweaty against his trousers where he clutched them to him. “I didn’t mean it like that…”
Arthur turned and glared at him. “No?” he spat. “You didn’t decide to give me what I wanted? You didn’t feel some obligation to me, to lie down and let me take you?”
“Give you… what?”
Arthur sighed and ran a hand across his face wearily. “Don’t make me say it, Merlin. You obviously found out that I have a tendency to call out your name when… well, yes.” He glanced up. “Don’t make it worse.”
“What?” Merlin said again, tentatively reaching out to Arthur with the hand that wasn’t holding his clothes to him.
“I’d rather sleep with them. They want me, even if it’s only because I’m the prince.”
“Arthur?” Merlin said, swallowing. “I didn’t know. I mean, I wasn’t offering…” He sighed, biting his lips. “I want you, Arthur. And not because of that.”
Arthur finally looked at him. Merlin looked back as evenly as he could, blushing.
It was Arthur’s turn to say, “What?”
“I want you,” Merlin said, more sure this time. “You. Not the prince. I want Arthur. It’s been killing me that you’ve ignored me and gone to find others for your bed. While all the time I’ve been right here.”
The tentative hope in Arthur’s eyes had been replaced by something else, something darker, and firmer, and more predatory. He moved into Merlin’s space, backing him up against the table.
“Hold on to something because I’m going to kiss you,” he growled.
Merlin opened his mouth to protest the arrogance of this statement, and then Arthur’s mouth covered his with hot aggressive lips and Arthur’s tongue was pressing against his and it turned out that Merlin did need to hold on to something. So he dropped his shirt, dug his fingers into Arthur’s shoulders, and kissed back.
And Arthur was really there, really kissing him, hot and strong under his hands, and the edge of the table was digging into Merlin’s lower back, and his trousers were sliding off his hips now that he was no longer holding them up, and Arthur’s hands were warm against his bare back, his fingers splayed and possessive while his mouth pressed urgently, urgently against Merlin’s, teeth clacking messily, lips wet and smooth and hot. And Merlin curled his fingers around the back of Arthur’s neck, clutching at the silky hairs, pulling him closer, closer, closer…
And then Arthur was kissing wetly along his jaw and Merlin was panting for breath, tingling in all the places where their bodies touched. And it wasn’t fair that Arthur still had his shirt on. He tried to pull at it, and Arthur moved away with a laugh of childish delight.
“You do want me,” he said, looking at Merlin in amazement.
“Well, yes,” Merlin said. “I thought we’d already agreed on that.”
And Arthur kissed him again, sweetly, catching Merlin’s lower lip between his own. And Merlin didn’t shut his eyes, stared instead at the golden curl of Arthur’s eyelashes against his cheek. And then the kiss was over, and Arthur’s fingers were drifting over Merlin’s lips, across his cheek and down his neck.
“Uh, do you want…” he began hesitantly, then stopped. “I mean, just because I, um, that doesn’t mean…”
And then Merlin laughed, and pushed Arthur away slightly, enough to look down at his own body, at the way his unlaced trousers were staying up only due to the fact that they were caught on his erection, pressed between his stomach and Arthur’s.
And then Arthur was laughing too, teasing him - “now that’s a good look” - and the nervousness dissipated. They pressed together again for another kiss, as though they couldn’t quite believe they had permission to do that, their hands reaching and touching, clutching and pulling and stroking at each other, as if to gorge on the sensation.
“So,” Arthur whispered, deep and rough, in Merlin’s ear. “You wouldn’t be entirely averse to taking this over to the bed?”
Then Merlin pushed him out of the way, limbs flailing as he undressed as swiftly as possible and stumbled over to the bed, almost tripping over Arthur’s boots.
The prince followed, laughing again. “Not so eager, then?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
Merlin blushed, but grinned back, holding his hands out to Arthur. Arthur pulled off his shirt, dropping it carelessly on the floor, then stepped closer so that Merlin could sit up and untie his trousers.
Merlin had helped the prince dress - and undress - many times before, but he’d never peeled Arthur out of his trousers, his breath hot against Arthur’s stomach and thighs, he’d never eased the trousers away from Arthur’s penis with gentle, curious fingers, touching tentatively, lingering slightly longer than was necessary.
And Arthur, once naked, had never smiled down at him and taken his hand, sucking Merlin’s fingers into his mouth before clambering over him to sprawl beside him in the bed.
“So, can I…?” Arthur asked, reaching out, his hands hovering milimeters from Merlin’s skin.
“Yes,” Merlin grinned, pulling at Arthur’s wrist until his hand was splayed across Merlin’s stomach. “I would have thought that you, of all people, knew how to behave when you had someone naked in your bed.”
Arthur blushed, to Merlin’s astonishment. “Well, yes,” he muttered. “But that was them and this is you.”
Merlin could feel his face hurting from all the grinning and he had the distinct feeling that he looked like a bit of a fool, but then Arthur’s fingers were running across his stomach, tugging slightly on the dark hair that grew in a trail across it, and then Arthur’s hand - Arthur’s hand - was wrapped around his cock, firm and warm, and Merlin pressed up into the touch.
Arthur’s mouth was hot and wet against his jawline, mouthing open kisses down Merlin’s neck as he moved over him, pressing closer to him, and Merlin knew that he was making small noises of encouragement, his fingers carding through Arthur’s hair. But that was fine, because Arthur was making little pleased gasps against his skin, and Merlin hadn’t even touched him yet.
Arthur’s mouth, leaving a trail of wetness that cooled tingling in the air, made its way across Merlin’s collarbones with careful intent, as though Arthur meant to kiss and lick every inch of Merlin’s skin. His hand, still wrapped loosely around Merlin’s erection, moved slightly, enough to keep Merlin squirming beneath him but not enough to bring him any real relief. Merlin’s hands were on his head, his shoulders, scrabbling through his hair as he descended down his body, lapping at his nipples and biting gently at his ribs. “You need to eat more,” he murmured against Merlin’s torso. “You’re too skinny.”
“I’m sorry, sire,” Merlin started sarcastically, his words morphing into a strangled moan as Arthur’s fingers tightened around him.
“So you should be,” Arthur retorted, mouthing wet kisses across Merlin’s hips, pressing his tongue into the join where Merlin’s leg became his body. “Can’t have you wasting away.”
Merlin desperately wanted to push Arthur’s head over, wanted him to stop teasing and reach his destination. He pushed his hips up, rubbing himself against Arthur’s hand where it now lay curled around him close to Arthur’s face. Arthur turned his head slightly from where he had been kissing Merlin’s hip, and the tip of Merlin’s cock grazed across his cheek leaving a silvery trail of precome. Merlin moaned at the contact and his hips jerked forward.
“Steady,” Arthur murmured, and his words vibrated through Merlin’s skin. Then Arthur’s hand was moving away, and Merlin was whimpering with displeasure, aware that he sounded desperate, but beyond caring. Arthur’s fingers gripped his hips, and Merlin tried, perversely, to wriggle, making Arthur’s hands tighten against him. Merlin hoped he’d have marks there in the morning to prove to himself that this really happened.
Arthur was kissing his thighs now, warm and butterfly-soft, and it almost tickled when he brushed his lips across the sensitive white skin. “You taste wonderful,” Arthur told him, licking his way across Merlin’s inner thigh. “I can’t believe you are letting me do this.”
Merlin groaned in frustration. “Anytime you want, sire. Just get on with it.”
“Bossy, aren’t we?” Arthur whispered against him, and his tongue darted out, hot and wet against Merlin’s balls. Merlin twisted beneath his hands. “Also,” Arthur murmured, his nose pressing against the side of Merlin’s erection while his lips ghosted against the root. “I think you can probably call me Arthur when I’m about to take your cock into my mouth.”
Merlin’s “Arthur!” came out as a strangled yelp as Arthur was as good as his word. Harsh fingers held him down against the bed while he tried to thrust up into that delicious heat.
And yes, he was annoyed that Arthur had had just a long string of casual lovers, but if that was how he’d learned to do this, then Merlin was just going to have to forgive him.
He’d forgotten how incredibly wonderful it felt to have someone’s mouth on him like this. Or maybe he’d never known, his previous experiences more exploratory than intense. Arthur, though, Arthur knew what he was doing, balancing the suction and the movement until Merlin was sure he could see lights dancing in front of his eyes. And then, when he thought he was about to come, Arthur backed off, licked flat and broad across the underside of his cock, and said, “Not yet,” grinning up at Merlin with lips swollen and glistening.
And Merlin could do nothing more than lie panting on the bed while Arthur’s tongue danced around his balls, sucking them gently into his mouth and lapping at their undersides. Arthur’s fingers were back on his erection now, a loose circle, sliding up and down, keeping his on the edge without pushing him far enough. And when Merlin braced himself up on his elbows and looked down his body there was something obscene about the prince kneeling between his thighs, his eyes closed in pleasure while he licked and suckled at the skin between Merlin’s legs.
And it was an odd feeling, Arthur’s tongue was going lower and lower, reaching back and back and Merlin almost wanted to stop him, wasn’t sure he wanted to confront that tingling that he could feel humming just below the surface of his skin. And then Arthur’s tongue brushed across the entrance to his anus, and Merlin couldn’t help the shiver of shock and pleasure that went through him, making him collapse back against the pillows and spread his legs as wide open as he could.
Arthur hummed appreciatively against him and licked again, his tongue hot and almost rough against Merlin’s sensitive skin. “What are you doing?” he asked, but Arthur didn’t answer, merely pressed his tongue harder against Merlin, the very tip breaching him slightly, before pulling back to lap across the entrance. He’d let go of Merlin’s cock now, which was lying fat and leaking across his stomach, and was using both his hands to hold Merlin’s thighs stretched apart and tipped upward, giving himself as much space as possible.
And it wasn’t like anything Merlin had felt before - had even thought of before - but once he’d gotten passed the oddness, it was wonderful. Arthur’s mobile lips kissed and suckled him, his tongue easing in and out of Merlin, wetting him, teasing him…
And then there was something else, ever so gently, easing in beside Arthur’s tongue, feeling giant and slightly sore inside him, but the pressure was delicious, even though it made him squirm uncomfortably. “Relax,” Arthur murmured against him. “I promise it will feel good.” And he licked more, slicking and opening where he’d pressed the tip of his finger into Merlin.
And so Merlin did try to relax, to trust Arthur’s word, and he felt Arthur move slightly, easing the tip of his finger back and forth. And then Arthur’s mouth was back on his cock, sucking it deeply into that wet heat, while he still played with Merlin’s arse with his hand.
And the surge of pleasure Merlin felt when Arthur hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head really did make up for - and somehow intensified - the feeling of the intrusion in his arse. And as he arched up, surrendering once again to Arthur’s ministrations, he felt himself relax, the finger inside him press further and while it still felt very strange, he began to like it.
So he let himself be played, eased back and forth between Arthur’s mouth and his finger, the pleasure gradually building deep inside him, coiling dark and elusive below his stomach, teased and coaxed by Arthur’s movements. And he felt himself striving, grasping for that edge, his hips thrusting all by themselves now, pressing his cock into Arthur’s mouth, then opening easily to engulf Arthur’s finger. And it was as though he was racing towards a cliff: an inevitable urgent charge, and he wanted to get there desperately, desperately and yet he never wanted this to end.
He opened his eyes and looked down at Arthur: his golden hair, his expression of bliss, one hand curled under Merlin, the other reaching back between his own legs and it was then, seeing that Arthur was getting himself off on what he was doing, that the heat inside Merlin’s belly began to hurriedly unravel, and he felt his orgasm approach like an onrushing army, curling his toes, shooting through all his nerves and spilling hot and unstoppable, into Arthur’s mouth.
The prince spluttered slightly, and stopped what he was doing, swallowing hard, his tongue darting out to catch the drips that spilled. Then he lifted his mouth away from Merlin and looked up at him.
Merlin blinked at him, trying to focus through the blur of headrush, and then Arthur was climbing back up his sensitive body to curl against his side, grinning smugly.
“Yes, okay, that was.. amazing,” Merlin said to him, once he could speak again. “You can have a limited amount of time to gloat.” And then he pulled Arthur to him, licking curiously at his mouth before kissing him thoroughly.
“I can taste me on you,” he said wonderingly, when they broke apart, staring at Arthur’s reddened lips.
“Well yes,” Arthur said, with raised eyebrows. “I would have thought you’d expect that.”
Merlin could feel himself going red as he thought about where Arthur’s mouth had been, and how it had felt. He could feel Arthur’s erection, hot and insistent against his thigh, and he pushed Arthur back a bit, so that there was enough room for him to reach down between them.
Arthur grunted softly, pressing closer again when Merlin wrapped his hand around him. And really, it didn’t feel that different to touching himself, the same soft skin stretched over a hard core. But the angle was different, and Arthur was wet against his wrist when he slid his hand forward. Arthur was looking at him intently, his mouth parted as he breathed heavily, and Merlin might never have done this before, but he wasn’t entirely ignorant of what happened between men.
“So um,” Merlin said, taking a deep breath. “Do you want to…” he paused, not knowing how to phrase it. “I mean,” he blushed, hotly. “Do you want to take me?”
And Arthur’s face lit up into a teasing grin as he leaned over and pressed a swift kiss to Merlin’s nose. “Actually,” he said, low against Merlin’s ear, “I’d quite like you to do something to me.”
For a second all Merlin could think of was what it would be like to put Arthur’s cock in his mouth and he could see Arthur grinning at him. “You don’t mind that idea?”
Merlin shook his head, saliva pooling in his mouth. “I don’t know how, I mean, I’ve never… yes, yes please.”
Then Arthur was disentangling himself from Merlin, easing Merlin’s hand away from his erection with regret, and moving across the bed to fumble down beside it. When he returned he had a little pottery vessel in his hand.
“Here,” he said, giving it to Merlin. “Use this oil to slick up your fingers, and then I want you to put them inside me, like I just showed you.”
Merlin was so surprised he was speechless, and Arthur laughed at the expression on his face. “What?” he asked. “It feels good!”
“I thought that, being the prince at all, you know, you’d be the on doing the…” Merlin couldn’t finish the sentence he was so embarrassed.
Arthur shrugged and lay back on the pillows, his body long and lean and muscled, his erection lying thick and dark across his hip. He bent his knees, letting them fall to the sides. “Mostly that is what happens,” he said. “But right now I’d really rather we did this.”
And Merlin let himself look, from Arthur’s smirk down his golden body to the dark hair that clustered between his legs, dusted his thighs and shadowed the deep crevasse of his arse. “Okay,” he said, and his voice sounded rough in his ears.
Tentatively, he reached out and touched Arthur’s cock again, running his fingers up its length and watching the shift of emotions flit across Arthur’s face. He pressed his fingers to the wet tip, then raised them to his mouth, watching Arthur’s eyes darken with lust as he tasted him. Then, very carefully, keeping his eyes on Arthur’s the whole time, he bent over and licked him, starting back in the curls of hair, up across the shaft, and ended by sucking the head slightly into his mouth.
Arthur’s eyes dropped to half closed and his body twitched. And Merlin realised that touching Arthur was going to be just as much pleasure as having Arthur touch him.
He took as much of Arthur’s cock into his mouth as he could manage, sucking at it inelegantly, while he stroked his hands up the insides of Arthur’s thighs. Arthur didn’t seem to mind his lack of experience, if the small moans he was making were any indication.
Merlin stroked gently at Arthur’s balls, rolling them between his fingers before reaching back, brushing down his perineum to flicker past his entrance. Arthur put his feet flat on the bed and pushed his hips up, willingly, forcing Merlin to pull back slightly to avoid choking.
He had to lift his mouth away from Arthur’s erection in order to see what he was doing when he poured some of the oil into the palm of his hand and then rubbed his hands together. Arthur made a small noise of discontent when Merlin moved away, but rewarded him with a long, low moan of delight when Merlin slid his slick hand up the length of him.
“Oh, yes,” Arthur sighed, his head tipping back into the pillows, and Merlin grinned, pleased with himself, as he watched Arthur’s neck and chest flush with pleasure. Arthur’s hips were writhing under his hands now, and Merlin concentrated to keep up the slip-slide of his hand on Arthur’s penis while focussing his attention on his other hand, exploring down between Arthur’s legs, leaving a glistening trail of oil along the back of his thighs and across his buttocks.
When he pressed the tip of his index finger into Arthur the prince gasped, a short, harsh breath, and Merlin froze, his finger squeezed tight in the vice of Arthur’s muscles. Then Arthur sighed and his muscles relaxed, his hips tipped further forward, and Merlin pressed more inside. When he looked up, Arthur was staring at him, his chest heaving and his mouth open.
So Merlin slid his finger out a little, then pushed it back in, the movement easy now with the oil dripping messily onto the sheets. Arthur’s lips formed an o, although no words came out. His eyes fluttered shut, then opened again to keep looking at Merlin.
Merlin smiled, awed at his power. Arthur smiled back, a deep, warm, satisfied smile. “Use two now,” he whispered. “Go on.” And so, on an out stroke, Merlin pressed his middle finger tight against his first and slid them back up into Arthur, trying not to break his rhythm.
Arthur groaned, his hand stretching up over his head to grip tightly to the headboard. “That’s it,” he murmured, then he grinned at Merlin. “Glad to see there’s some things you can learn quickly.” And then he moaned again, flexing his feet against the bed and lifting himself higher into Merlin’s hands.
And Merlin watched in amazement as Arthur rolled his body, fucking himself on Merlin’s fingers, biting his lip to contain the noises he was making, his erection sliding slickly through Merlin’s fist.
“Don’t suppress it,” Merlin whispered. “I want to hear you.”
And then he slid a third finger into Arthur’s body as the prince began to moan loudly, interspersing curses and divine invocations with Merlin’s name. It was hugely arousing for Merlin, watching the prince, arrogant, efficient, commanding Arthur coming apart under his hands.
And when Arthur lifted his head - eyes dark with need, hair mussed and sweaty - he couldn’t take his eyes of Merlin’s erection, newly returned to stand proud between his thighs.
“Oh, God, Merlin,” Arthur declared. “I want…” he licked his lips. “Please put your cock in me instead.”
And Merlin would have thought that he’d be surprised, that he’d bluster and blush at the intensity of Arthur’s gaze, at hearing those words tumble from Arthur’s lips, and yet it was easy to pull away, to pour more oil on his hands and to touch himself - and yes that felt good - all the while watching Arthur’s hungry stare. And yes, the oil dripped down his legs, and yes, he could see it staining the sheet, and yes, he’d be the one who had to clean that up, but when Arthur wrapped his legs eagerly around Merlin’s torso, hooking one as high up as he could reach across Merlin’s upper arm, and Merlin ran his oiled hands down the back of Arthur’s thighs to press against his arse, holding him open, then none of that mattered at all.
For a moment Arthur’s body resisted him, then the head was in, and they both let out a sigh of breath they’d been holding. And Arthur reached down between them to stroke himself where Merlin couldn’t reach, and Merlin pressed further forward, unable to keep his eyes off the sight of his length disappearing into Arthur, and then Arthur moaned, deep and needy, and the sound thrummed right through Merlin. And then movement was easy, the gentle press and pull of his hips, the tight, hot, vice of Arthur’s arse around him, Arthur’s hand, tugging fast, desperate, on his erection and already Merlin could feel the dark coil of his orgasm wrenching at his insides. And he tried not to see the golden expanse of Arthur’s exposed neck as he arched his back, the dusky coins of his nipples through the hair on his chest, the swollen, slick, dark head of his erection against his capable fingers, because then it would all be over, and he was determined to make it last long enough…
And then that ceased to be a problem because Arthur was shuddering beneath him, screaming out his name, and pulsing thick, white strings of come across his hand and stomach. Merlin stopped moving and watched.
Then Arthur’s eyes opened, and his legs tightened around Merlin holding him firm and close. “Do it,” he said. And Merlin complied, snapping his hips back and forth, arms trembling to keep him braced upright, chasing the tingle of need that danced just below his eyelids.
His orgasm hit him with blinding force, turning him inside out and emptying him into Arthur. For a moment everything was still, the rushing of the blood in his veins seemed deafening and the blue of Arthur’s eyes filled his vision.
And then he collapsed, landing sweaty and messy on Arthur’s chest as Arthur’s legs loosened and fell onto the bed and Merlin’s cock slipped uncomfortably from inside him.
Merlin didn’t know how long they lay there, too exhausted to speak or to move, concentrating instead on breathing. And then his skin began to cool, and he was sticking unpleasantly to Arthur, so, with a grunt of displeasure, he rolled onto his back.
“Well,” Arthur said, after a bit. “I think we should do that again.”
And Merlin laughed, his throat hoarse and his breathing still laboured.
“I told you not to go looking somewhere else, when I’m right here.”
Arthur’s hand, hot and sweaty, found his.
“It’s a deal,” he said. “Don’t ever plan to go sleep in your own bed again.”
Merlin grinned and rolled towards him, pressing a kiss to the side of Arthur’s jaw. “Oh, so now it’s okay for the prince to have a favourite?” he teased.
Arthur glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. “I think so. It’s convenient, you know. You’re always in and out of here already.”
Merlin laughed, licking gently at his ear. “As long as you don’t take me for granted.”
Arthur’s face screwed up in disbelief. “As if you’d ever let me do that.” And he stretched out his arm, wrapping Merlin up in it and holding him close against his body. “I promise I won’t,” he muttered against Merlin’s temple and his breath was hot.
They lay for a while, enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies, savouring the feeling of something beginning that had been coming for a long time.
Then, just when Merlin was going to suggest he get up and find a cloth to clean them up, Arthur spoke. “You do know,” he said quietly. “That I have to marry and produce and heir, someday. That’s my purpose.”
Merlin laughed softly against his shoulder. “Yes, Arthur, I know. Great minds have purposes, little minds have…” he paused.
“What?” Arthur asked, lifting his head so that he could look at Merlin.
“Selfishness,” Merlin replied with a grin. “I’m going to hold on to you for as long as you live.”
“Oh, okay,” Arthur agreed. Then, a moment later. “Did you just refer to yourself as a little mind? Because I’m glad to see that…”
Merlin punched his arm. “It was a turn of phrase.”
“Oh,” Arthur smirked. “If you’re sure.”
Merlin bit at his earlobe, then Arthur turned his head and kissed him.
“I wonder what my father’s going to say,” he said eventually, with a sigh.
Merlin’s laugh was strangled.
“What?”
“Can I tell you a secret? One that you’re going to want to scrub out your ears and wish you’d never heard?”
Arthur raised his eyebrows. “I suspect you’re going to whatever I say.”
Merlin shrugged. Then frowned. “I sort of think, well, I’m pretty damn sure, actually, that your father suggested that I sleep with you.”
“WHAT?” Arthur sat up, dislodging Merlin, his face twisted in a grimace of anguish. “My father what?”
“He seemed to think that if you had me in your bed you would stop whoring yourself around the castle.”
Arthur’s expression grew even darker. “That’s outrageous! I never whored myself, I merely…” he stopped, glaring at Merlin. “And you can stop laughing.”
“It is a bit funny,” Merlin replied, trying to stop his lips twitching with laughter and failing miserably.
“No, it isn’t,” Arthur retorted, crossing his arms and lying back on the bed.
Merlin looked down at him. “You have an adorable pout,” he told Arthur, kissing it.
“Don’t think you can get out of it that easily,” Arthur replied, turning his face away.
Merlin sighed, kissing Arthur’s jaw and cheek, where he could best reach. “Okay, sire,” he murmured coaxingly. “I withdraw my comment. No whoring. Just… making the most of the available resources?”
Arthur’s head turned and his eyes flashed indignantly at Merlin, although Merlin could see that he was suppressing laughter. “Actually,” he said, pointedly. “I was trying to get your attention.”
Merlin’s laughter was incredulous. “By making sure I caught you having sex? You have a truly warped mind.”
Arthur pouted. “But look, it worked.”
Merlin paused to consider. “I don’t think that’s what happened,” he said. “I think this was my doing, not yours.”
Arthur glared at him. “Absolutely not. I refuse to let you take the credit. It was my fantastic idea.”
Merlin frowned and opened his mouth with a retort, then he noticed the twinkle of amusement in Arthur’s eyes, so he leaned over and kissed him instead.
“Yes, sire,” he said against Arthur’s lips. “Of course it was your idea.”
And Arthur pinched his bottom, making him squeak. “I have the feeling you aren’t being entirely serious,” he said.
Merlin grinned. And then Arthur grinned back. Merlin thought of something. “You have to let me get some sleep,” Merlin said. “Or I won’t get all my chores done. And I won’t have anyone saying I’m not a good manservant.”
Arthur’s laughter was loud and sudden. “You’re the worst manservant I’ve ever had,” he said fondly, his hand stroking broad and warm down Merlin’s side. “But I think I can learn to live with that.”