Fic: Wrong Number
Title: Wrong Number
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur (kind of)
Rating: NC-17 (to be safe)
Disclaimer: I own nothing but an overactive imagination. And a computer.
Summary: Inspired by prompt 129 from the Anonymous Kink Meme in which Arthur calls a phone sex hotline and gets…Merlin (either as operator or wrong number). Hijinx ensue. (I kind of twisted and ran with it. Hope the OP doesn’t mind!)
Warning: AU, featuring CheekyTakingAdvantage!Merlin and SlightlyDrunkHorny!Arthur. May cause flailing and inability to speak.
Words: 1252
A/N: Thanks to hils for handholding, encouraging, betaing and the word “Nyargh”. *luffs*
The phone rang.
“Hello?” Merlin didn’t even look up from his book.
No answer, just a couple of breathy sighs.
“Hello?” He glared at his phone.
“Erm…Hal?”
Oh great. That was enough. He was getting a new phone. Getting wrong number calls was bad enough, but getting wrong number calls for a sex line was a completely different matter. If he ever found out who Hal, of Hal’s Hot n Horny Hunks (discreet phone services for gay men) was, the blasted man wasn’t going to be servicing anyone. Discreetly or otherwise.
“Hal?” the disembodied voice asked again, sounding very nervous.
Merlin wondered how to say ‘No’ without exactly saying it, recalling the abusive response he’d gotten last time. Although, admittedly, he probably shouldn’t have shouted at the caller, even if it was the fourth he’d received in the space of an hour, it wasn’t exactly their fault they couldn’t dial a bloody phone. And he probably shouldn’t have yelled ‘No I am not, you tosser, now bugger off!’ But still. So he gave what he hoped was a noncommittal murmur.
“I’m just - I’m not -” the voice was hesitant. And - familiar? “Are you Hal or a - hunk?”
It sounded like Arthur Pendragon. The tall, blond, godlike boy - man - who stalked the corridors of his college and his dreams. A lot like him in fact.
“I’m whoever you want me to be,” Merlin’s mouth was saying before his brain realised.
“Oh, ok,” the voice sounded simultaneously disappointed and relieved. If that were possible, “Ok, I’ve - I’ve got someone in mind.”
It was Arthur Pendragon. There was no mistaking him now. Merlin found himself smirking. Well, well, who knew the Mighty Pendragon needed to resort to phoning sex hotlines? Gay sex hotlines at that!
“That’s good.” Merlin said through his smirk.
“What -” a cough, “what do you want me to do?”
Really Arthur, there’s no need to - squeak like that.
“What’s your name?” Merlin asked.
“Ar - nold. Arnold.” Well, that’s not exactly disguising your name, thought Merlin; he should have gone with, like, Bob or something.
“Ok Arnold. What are you wearing?” oh great, he sounded like a bad porn script. Was there such a thing as a good porn script? Ok, not the time to be thinking about that.
“Jeans.” Arthur’s voice sounded cracked and most unlike it’s usual confident tone, “just - jeans.”
“No top?” Merlin asked with a hint of amusement, “someone’s eager.”
No answer.
“Don’t be nervous Arnold,” Merlin said, returning his attention to the book he’d been reading, and flicking through the pages absently, “tell me where you are.”
“In my room.”
“Describe it to me.” Merlin racked his brain to try and recall the Pendragon house. He’d only been there once, to a party, and had gotten hideously drunk very quickly (well, no change there) and couldn’t remember much after that.
“Er…big. Red.”
Not helpful. Merlin scrunched his eyes in thought. He remembered a bedroom. May not have been Arthur’s, but it was a huge room. You could fit a football team in the bed.
“Ok, so you’re in your room,” Merlin turned over the page in his book. It felt odd, to be talking to Arthur and scanning through a geology textbook, but he carried on anyway. “What are you doing?” He tried to sound husky.
“Sat on my bed. On the phone.”
Merlin chuckled softly, “What do you want me to do to you Arnold?”
Arthur gave a strangled sort of noise that sounded something like ‘nnnngh’.
“Ok, Arnold,” Merlin said, and a small part of him wished he could record this for future laughs, “I need you to relax. Lie down on your bed. You’ll be much more comfortable.”
“Ok,” there was a faint rustling.
“Still nervous?”
“A bit.”
“Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Close your eyes.”
A pause. Merlin skimmed through another page of his textbook. “Have you closed them?”
“Yes.”
“Ok, now I want you to concentrate on your breathing. In and out. Feel your heartbeat, ok?”
“Yeah?” nervously still.
“It’s very important. Feel your blood moving around your body. To the ends of your fingers and the end of your toes.”
“Um?”
“In and out. Slowly. Feel it moving around. Into every part of your body.”
“Ok.” Squeakily.
“Relax Arnold. We’re not going to do anything you don’t want to, ok?”
“Ok.”
“If you want to stop, you just say.”
“Ok.”
“Keep breathing.” It wouldn’t do to have him die on the end of the phone, after all.
“Ok.”
“I’m right there with you.”
“Yes.”
“I can see you breathing. I’m watching your chest rising and falling. I’m so close I could almost touch you. Do you want me to touch you Arnold?”
“Yes.” Arthur’s assent sounded like a gasp, but it was clear.
“I’m starting with your neck. Touching, stroking. Do you want hands or lips?”
“Mfrgle,” said Arthur.
“Hands or lips, Arnold?”
“L-lips.” Arthur stuttered. Merlin softly shut his textbook and shunted it to one side.
“Lips then. I’m kissing your neck Arnold. I’m going to leave marks. Do you want that Arnold?”
“Mmhmm.”
“I’m going to move now.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to touch every inch of you.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve reached your nipple now.” Merlin managed to refrain at giggling at the word ‘nipple’ which always reduced him to childish laughter, “fingers or lips, Arnold?”
“Both!”
“Greedy.” Merlin laughed softly, “Ok then both. Can you feel me, Arnold?”
“Yes.”
“First the left. Over your heart. Still breathing?”
“Yes.” Merlin could hear that Arthur’s breathing was quicker though.
“Then the right.” Merlin sat up straight on his bed. “Where now, Arnold?”
“Lo - lower.” Merlin had never known Arthur be so inarticulate.
“Across your stomach? Fingers then lips?”
“Lower,” grunted Arthur.
“Lower?” Merlin asked pretending to sound surprised.
“Yes.”
“Are you -” Merlin licked his lips, now he was a bit nervous, “-are you hard, Arnold?”
“Guh,”
“Do you want me Arnold?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes. Please.”
The great and mighty Pendragon practically begging for sex on the end of a phone! Well, this was a surprise.
“Undo your jeans,” said Merlin decisively.
There was a strangled, snuffling sort of noise in response that Merlin chose to take as agreement.
“Are they undone?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me Arnold?”
“Yes.”
“Are you touching yourself?”
There was no response at first, just a few gasping breaths, then,” yes.”
“Are you imagining it’s me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes.”
“Hands…or mouth?”
“Mmrble”
“Mouth? Do you want me to take you into my mouth Arnold? Do you want me to swallow you whole?”
“Offlg”
“Sorry?”
“P - please!” Arthur panted.
“I’m taking you into my mouth Arnold. I’m sucking you, licking you - is that what you want? Does that feel good?”
“Yes - oooooh, yes!”
“Is that all you want?” Merlin said, something devilish igniting inside him, “do you want more?”
“Oh my - oooh.” Arthur let loose a string of curses, some of which Merlin had never heard before.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he could hear Arthur’s breathing, short and fast and breathy, “do you want me to turn you over Arthur and fuck you till you scream?”
Oh, crap. Did he just say Arthur? No, he hadn’t had he? Yes he had. Oh god.
Arthur, however, didn’t appear to have heard.
“Nyargh!” Arthur was panting heavily, and then cried out.
The phone call was cut off.
Merlin stared at the phone as if it had cursed him.
Then he decided he needed to go and take a long cold shower.
on to sequel Not Available