Time's Up, Chapter 6 Part 2
Chapter 6 Part 1
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Part 2
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Arthur should’ve stopped right there, but his resolve was weak, so he pushed those righteous thoughts out of his mind. Merlin twisted from under his arms and turned-his eyes unfocused, lips slightly parted-and Arthur lost the last of his control. Merlin eagerly accepted his gentle explorations, clung to him-drunk from their closeness, delirious, aroused... wanted. Arthur unhurriedly popped the buttons on his jeans, pulled down the zipper, seeking access, and squeezed his already hard cock through the fabric.
“Arthur,” Merlin breathed out, spreading his legs.
“What do you want?” Arthur rasped, rubbing the bulge in Merlin’s jeans. He was so hard himself, he could hardly breathe: his lungs couldn’t get enough air, he was dizzy, warm waves radiated from his belly through his entire body.
Merlin didn’t answer, just pulled him closer-greedily, possessively-and hitched his hips into Arthur’s palm. Arthur bent closer, took Merlin’s bottom lip into his mouth and gently pulled. His fingers slipped under the thick band of Merlin’s underwear, found the already slick head and skated carefully over it, spreading pre-cum. Merlin arched, squeezing Arthur’s shoulder and moaned. Arthur, breathing hard, pushed his hand lower, drove the base of his palm over his balls and brushed against his hole-Merlin was practically laying flat on the sofa; his legs reflexively spread even more to the sides. Arthur removed his hand and, leaning very close to Merlin’s ear whispered, “I think I won.”
“What?”
Arthur swallowed and closed his eyes. Blood hammered in his temples, the fabric of his pants
painfully cut into his groin.
“I want you,” he said without any inhibition, and looked pointedly at the bulge against the zipper of his jeans, “and would do just about anything to take you to my bedroom and shag you all night.”
“But winning the bet is more important?” Merlin’s voice rang with fury.
“Fuck the bet,” Arthur said. “Bet has nothing to do with it.”
“Then what’s the problem? It’s because I’m an addict, isn’t it?” Merlin’s cheeks flamed from anger, wet lips twisted in resentment, and Arthur didn’t know how it happened, but he hovered over Merlin again, and, jerking him closer, started kissing him.
Furious Merlin tried to kick him in the nuts, but the impact was weak and almost painless.
“No.” Arthur had never seen Merlin this close, a mere millimetre between their faces. “Because I don’t want it like this. Not when you’re about to lose it, pumped with rum.”
He let Merlin go and slid away from him.
“I should’ve told Gaius to forget it when he asked me to help you, Merlin. I’m not good at mixing business with pleasure. Business is business.”
“You should have.” Merlin grabbed Arthur’s unfinished wine from the table and emptied it with one gulp.
“Couldn’t do it. Gaius is relentless.” Arthur exhaled loudly, feeling his erection slowly softening, and his mind clearing up. Something else was amiss here. He looked at Merlin sharply. An unsettling thought entered his mind. “Did someone fuck you without your consent?” he asked.
The fragile stem of the wine glass slipped from Merlin’s fingers, and the glass soundlessly hit the floor. The thick fur of the rug saved the antique crystal, but Arthur didn’t give a damn about that.
“How did you know? Did you send Gwaine to dig up my past again?”
“He didn’t find anything.” Arthur pulled his brows together in a tired frown. “Don’t forget, I put two and two together for a living.”
“I’m not telling you anything.” Merlin clammed up, pulling back.
That answer only spurred Arthur on. “Was it at a club? Were you high?”
“Sod off.”
“Thought it was a bird, but ended up with your arse violated?” The words stung, Arthur knew it, but he had to get through to Merlin. It was now or never.
“Fuck you!” For the tenth time Merlin tried to button up his jeans, but his shaky fingers didn’t obey.
“Did he hurt you?” Arthur’s voice was softer; he winced. He still couldn’t believe he guessed right. Slowly bringing his hand to Merlin’s face, he curled his fingers around the back of his neck, holding him steadily, reassuringly.
Merlin pressed his mouth into a hard line, averting his gaze.
“Merlin. Look at me.”
Merlin took a shaky breath and finally leveled his eyes with Arthur’s. He found no disapproval or disgust there.
After an impossibly long silence, Merlin sighed and said, “I got plastered at a party. Found some stupid reason. I was in a pissy mood, something about ‘life is shite, fuck the universe,’ and somehow... I got so bloody drunk. Some bloke hit on me. He looked familiar, so I totally bought into his invitation to get some fresh air. Instead, he dragged me to his room, locked the door and tied my hands with my shirt. I was so out of it, I couldn’t even fight him.” Merlin chewed on his lip, frowning, and then continued, “And then he fucked me. He wasn’t a brute-used lube and rubbers. So, as you can see-no drama, Arthur.”
“What happened after?”
“Nothing. He said I had a sweet arse, untied my hands, and sent me off. ‘Thank you, sweetheart,’ I still remember his words.”
Arthur closed his eyes, white-hot anger boiling under his skin. Now he could see the entire picture. The assault was the last straw; Merlin blamed himself for what happened and he resorted to drugs. They helped to take the edge off and gave him an illusion of control. Merlin ran away from his problems on the white crystal tracks into methamphetamine heaven.
“Do you know who it was?” Arthur asked, trying to keep his voice even.
Merlin shrugged, looking away again. “A mate of one bloke from my class. Came for a visit and left the next morning.”
“I see. Too bad. I wish I could kick the shite out of him.”
“Too late for that.” Merlin huffed.
Arthur squeezed Merlin’s neck again, his fingers cool on Merlin’s feverish skin. He used the knuckles of his other hand to brush over the side of Merlin’s jaw. “It wasn’t you, Merlin.”
“What?” Merlin shifted uncomfortably, but Arthur wasn’t letting him go.
“That piece of shite belongs in jail.”
“Arthur-”
“No, Merlin, listen to me. It wasn’t your fault. Being drunk is not an invitation.” Arthur muttered something else, sounding a lot like, “rip that arsehole limb from limb”.
“Yeah, I know,” Merlin said quietly.
“Do you?”
“I know now.” Merlin glanced at Arthur, he thought of something, his expression softened and a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’d really mess him up for me? Why?” It was almost playful, and Arthur could feel the worst was finally over.
“Because I’ll have to wank alone this evening,” he said very seriously and then smiled. He squeezed Merlin’s neck one more time and dropped his hand.
“Prat.” Merlin kicked him. and then cursed, hearing the clock strike one in the morning. “Mum will interrogate me again. Where I was, what I did, as usual.”
“Hunith knows you’re spending the night here.”
“If she only knew how little you can be trusted...” Merlin shook his head.
Arthur smirked.
“She is a wise woman, you should listen to her,” he said. And added, on a lot more serious note, “Merlin. I am going to show you your bedroom, you’ll take a shower and will go to bed. Tomorrow you’ll talk to your father about the contract and will start working in your lab.”
“What about you?” Merlin asked, his voice barely audible.
“I’ll go back to my normal life. There will be no more sessions.”
“Does it mean I’m cured?” Merlin asked in mock-hope.
“Not a therapist, remember?” Arthur pointed at himself.
“Never trusted them.” Merlin smiled.
“Right. You’d be an idiot if you start using again,” Arthur said. ”And if you do, I’d be the first to recommend rehab for you.”
“Fantastic.”
“But something tells me, you won’t,” Arthur announced jovially and stretched languidly, extending his leg out.
“And what about all this?” Merlin waved his hand around, pointing at the sofa, a crumpled blanket, and the wine glass still on the floor. “About the fact that you-that I-” Merlin stuttered.
“That’s no longer my decision,” Arthur said simply.
Arthur, who always made decisions for others? Merlin arched his eyebrows. But Arthur didn’t look like he was joking.
“I’ll wait for three weeks, Merlin. For you, with all your ideas, synopses and plans for the future. You’d have to change a lot of things if you want to succeed. Use it wisely.” Arthur brought his hand to Merlin’s face as if to brush his fingers over his cheek. Merlin shut his eyes, but the touch never happened. “Three weeks, Merlin. For now, time’s up.”
Epilogue
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Part 2
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Arthur should’ve stopped right there, but his resolve was weak, so he pushed those righteous thoughts out of his mind. Merlin twisted from under his arms and turned-his eyes unfocused, lips slightly parted-and Arthur lost the last of his control. Merlin eagerly accepted his gentle explorations, clung to him-drunk from their closeness, delirious, aroused... wanted. Arthur unhurriedly popped the buttons on his jeans, pulled down the zipper, seeking access, and squeezed his already hard cock through the fabric.
“Arthur,” Merlin breathed out, spreading his legs.
“What do you want?” Arthur rasped, rubbing the bulge in Merlin’s jeans. He was so hard himself, he could hardly breathe: his lungs couldn’t get enough air, he was dizzy, warm waves radiated from his belly through his entire body.
Merlin didn’t answer, just pulled him closer-greedily, possessively-and hitched his hips into Arthur’s palm. Arthur bent closer, took Merlin’s bottom lip into his mouth and gently pulled. His fingers slipped under the thick band of Merlin’s underwear, found the already slick head and skated carefully over it, spreading pre-cum. Merlin arched, squeezing Arthur’s shoulder and moaned. Arthur, breathing hard, pushed his hand lower, drove the base of his palm over his balls and brushed against his hole-Merlin was practically laying flat on the sofa; his legs reflexively spread even more to the sides. Arthur removed his hand and, leaning very close to Merlin’s ear whispered, “I think I won.”
“What?”
Arthur swallowed and closed his eyes. Blood hammered in his temples, the fabric of his pants
painfully cut into his groin.
“I want you,” he said without any inhibition, and looked pointedly at the bulge against the zipper of his jeans, “and would do just about anything to take you to my bedroom and shag you all night.”
“But winning the bet is more important?” Merlin’s voice rang with fury.
“Fuck the bet,” Arthur said. “Bet has nothing to do with it.”
“Then what’s the problem? It’s because I’m an addict, isn’t it?” Merlin’s cheeks flamed from anger, wet lips twisted in resentment, and Arthur didn’t know how it happened, but he hovered over Merlin again, and, jerking him closer, started kissing him.
Furious Merlin tried to kick him in the nuts, but the impact was weak and almost painless.
“No.” Arthur had never seen Merlin this close, a mere millimetre between their faces. “Because I don’t want it like this. Not when you’re about to lose it, pumped with rum.”
He let Merlin go and slid away from him.
“I should’ve told Gaius to forget it when he asked me to help you, Merlin. I’m not good at mixing business with pleasure. Business is business.”
“You should have.” Merlin grabbed Arthur’s unfinished wine from the table and emptied it with one gulp.
“Couldn’t do it. Gaius is relentless.” Arthur exhaled loudly, feeling his erection slowly softening, and his mind clearing up. Something else was amiss here. He looked at Merlin sharply. An unsettling thought entered his mind. “Did someone fuck you without your consent?” he asked.
The fragile stem of the wine glass slipped from Merlin’s fingers, and the glass soundlessly hit the floor. The thick fur of the rug saved the antique crystal, but Arthur didn’t give a damn about that.
“How did you know? Did you send Gwaine to dig up my past again?”
“He didn’t find anything.” Arthur pulled his brows together in a tired frown. “Don’t forget, I put two and two together for a living.”
“I’m not telling you anything.” Merlin clammed up, pulling back.
That answer only spurred Arthur on. “Was it at a club? Were you high?”
“Sod off.”
“Thought it was a bird, but ended up with your arse violated?” The words stung, Arthur knew it, but he had to get through to Merlin. It was now or never.
“Fuck you!” For the tenth time Merlin tried to button up his jeans, but his shaky fingers didn’t obey.
“Did he hurt you?” Arthur’s voice was softer; he winced. He still couldn’t believe he guessed right. Slowly bringing his hand to Merlin’s face, he curled his fingers around the back of his neck, holding him steadily, reassuringly.
Merlin pressed his mouth into a hard line, averting his gaze.
“Merlin. Look at me.”
Merlin took a shaky breath and finally leveled his eyes with Arthur’s. He found no disapproval or disgust there.
After an impossibly long silence, Merlin sighed and said, “I got plastered at a party. Found some stupid reason. I was in a pissy mood, something about ‘life is shite, fuck the universe,’ and somehow... I got so bloody drunk. Some bloke hit on me. He looked familiar, so I totally bought into his invitation to get some fresh air. Instead, he dragged me to his room, locked the door and tied my hands with my shirt. I was so out of it, I couldn’t even fight him.” Merlin chewed on his lip, frowning, and then continued, “And then he fucked me. He wasn’t a brute-used lube and rubbers. So, as you can see-no drama, Arthur.”
“What happened after?”
“Nothing. He said I had a sweet arse, untied my hands, and sent me off. ‘Thank you, sweetheart,’ I still remember his words.”
Arthur closed his eyes, white-hot anger boiling under his skin. Now he could see the entire picture. The assault was the last straw; Merlin blamed himself for what happened and he resorted to drugs. They helped to take the edge off and gave him an illusion of control. Merlin ran away from his problems on the white crystal tracks into methamphetamine heaven.
“Do you know who it was?” Arthur asked, trying to keep his voice even.
Merlin shrugged, looking away again. “A mate of one bloke from my class. Came for a visit and left the next morning.”
“I see. Too bad. I wish I could kick the shite out of him.”
“Too late for that.” Merlin huffed.
Arthur squeezed Merlin’s neck again, his fingers cool on Merlin’s feverish skin. He used the knuckles of his other hand to brush over the side of Merlin’s jaw. “It wasn’t you, Merlin.”
“What?” Merlin shifted uncomfortably, but Arthur wasn’t letting him go.
“That piece of shite belongs in jail.”
“Arthur-”
“No, Merlin, listen to me. It wasn’t your fault. Being drunk is not an invitation.” Arthur muttered something else, sounding a lot like, “rip that arsehole limb from limb”.
“Yeah, I know,” Merlin said quietly.
“Do you?”
“I know now.” Merlin glanced at Arthur, he thought of something, his expression softened and a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’d really mess him up for me? Why?” It was almost playful, and Arthur could feel the worst was finally over.
“Because I’ll have to wank alone this evening,” he said very seriously and then smiled. He squeezed Merlin’s neck one more time and dropped his hand.
“Prat.” Merlin kicked him. and then cursed, hearing the clock strike one in the morning. “Mum will interrogate me again. Where I was, what I did, as usual.”
“Hunith knows you’re spending the night here.”
“If she only knew how little you can be trusted...” Merlin shook his head.
Arthur smirked.
“She is a wise woman, you should listen to her,” he said. And added, on a lot more serious note, “Merlin. I am going to show you your bedroom, you’ll take a shower and will go to bed. Tomorrow you’ll talk to your father about the contract and will start working in your lab.”
“What about you?” Merlin asked, his voice barely audible.
“I’ll go back to my normal life. There will be no more sessions.”
“Does it mean I’m cured?” Merlin asked in mock-hope.
“Not a therapist, remember?” Arthur pointed at himself.
“Never trusted them.” Merlin smiled.
“Right. You’d be an idiot if you start using again,” Arthur said. ”And if you do, I’d be the first to recommend rehab for you.”
“Fantastic.”
“But something tells me, you won’t,” Arthur announced jovially and stretched languidly, extending his leg out.
“And what about all this?” Merlin waved his hand around, pointing at the sofa, a crumpled blanket, and the wine glass still on the floor. “About the fact that you-that I-” Merlin stuttered.
“That’s no longer my decision,” Arthur said simply.
Arthur, who always made decisions for others? Merlin arched his eyebrows. But Arthur didn’t look like he was joking.
“I’ll wait for three weeks, Merlin. For you, with all your ideas, synopses and plans for the future. You’d have to change a lot of things if you want to succeed. Use it wisely.” Arthur brought his hand to Merlin’s face as if to brush his fingers over his cheek. Merlin shut his eyes, but the touch never happened. “Three weeks, Merlin. For now, time’s up.”
Epilogue