Fic: Everybody Take Your Places ( Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Knights) NC-17
Title: Everybody Take Your Places
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Knights
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 700-ish
Summary: Arthur has an overactive imagination.
Notes: Written for marguerite-26's Thank You For the Fanservice commentfest. Unbetaed and written in the two-hour time limit. Spoilers for 4x04
Please feel free to point out any typos/errors if you see them. :)
He's thought about it before, just fleeting images rushing through his mind when he sees Merlin with them: laughing, joking, cleaning up. Grin spread across his face, his head tilted down and staring up at them through impossibly long eyelashes. Arthur wonders if Merlin even realises how flirtatious he is. He thinks he probably does.
The prank had been his idea of course, a little payback for the "trousers incident" as Gwaine likes to call it. Gwaine never lets anything go, it's part of what makes him such a good warrior, the way he holds onto his anger, his frustration, his love. But in matters like this, Gwaine's ability to never forget makes him profoundly irritating. Arthur would much prefer to forget having his trousers around his ankles with his idiot of a manservant climbing all over him in public, thank you very much.
Well mostly, anyway.
It isn't that he wants to remember how it felt: Merlin's hands on him, his legs wrapped around Arthur's, the way it made Arthur's breath catch in his throat. No, he doesn't want to remember that at all.
And then he sees Merlin with his men.
.
As amusing as the prank had been, and as much as it had been the most perfect form of revenge, it had brought something to light that Arthur hadn't even noticed before. His men love touching Merlin.
It's almost as if, when it comes to Merlin, his knights have no concept of personal space. Their hands on his shoulders, Elyan ruffling his hair, the way Gwaine leans into him when he eats, making the most obscene noises, the way Percival grins at him and puts a hand on his cheek and the way Leon, stoic, serious Leon smiles at Merlin- it makes Arthur's heart seize in his chest a little, makes his knees weak.
It's all he can think about now: Merlin with them. It plagues his thoughts during the day: watching them tease him on the practice field and at night, seeing the way Merlin's eyes linger on them when he pours Arthur's wine.
When Merlin blows out the candles and leaves him to sleep, Arthur closes his eyes and imagines how it would be. How Merlin would look if Elyan ran a thumb over his mouth and pushed it in, or if Percival pushed him up against the nearest tree, hand knotted in Merlin's neckerchief, pulling him wherever he wanted to: down to his knees, or in for a punishing kiss. Leon, large hands on Merlin's hips guiding him to sit astride him. Or Gwaine, who he's almost positive has taken Merlin to his bed, kissing him rough and wet before pushing Merlin to the ground and undressing him, his hands skating over every inch of pale, smooth skin.
He can't resist then, can't stop himself from sliding his hand into his sleeping trousers and finding his cock, already hard and wet at the tip. He strokes himself almost torturously, long and slow, thumb swiping over the head as his other hand pinches at his nipples, making them ache. He can't allow himself to imagine what it would be like if it were Merlin's hand on him, Merlin's mouth taking him inside. It's far easier to imagine situations where Merlin is undressed and fucked by his men, because then it doesn't have to mean anything. It certainly doesn't mean that Arthur can't stop thinking about his manservant day in and day out and wanting to-
Oh, but Arthur does. He does want. Wants to be there when Merlin gives it up for his men, when he lets them take him in any way possible: wanton like a tart. But more than that, he wants to be the one to do the taking, wants to own him. To tell the rest of them to go to hell and steal Merlin away, strip the clothes from his body and fuck him slowly, so slow it's almost unbearable.
He isn't ready to admit it though, that he wants Merlin all to himself, and when Arthur comes, he bites down on his hand to stop him from yelling things that he shouldn't. It's easier to pretend that way.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Knights
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 700-ish
Summary: Arthur has an overactive imagination.
Notes: Written for marguerite-26's Thank You For the Fanservice commentfest. Unbetaed and written in the two-hour time limit. Spoilers for 4x04
Please feel free to point out any typos/errors if you see them. :)
He's thought about it before, just fleeting images rushing through his mind when he sees Merlin with them: laughing, joking, cleaning up. Grin spread across his face, his head tilted down and staring up at them through impossibly long eyelashes. Arthur wonders if Merlin even realises how flirtatious he is. He thinks he probably does.
The prank had been his idea of course, a little payback for the "trousers incident" as Gwaine likes to call it. Gwaine never lets anything go, it's part of what makes him such a good warrior, the way he holds onto his anger, his frustration, his love. But in matters like this, Gwaine's ability to never forget makes him profoundly irritating. Arthur would much prefer to forget having his trousers around his ankles with his idiot of a manservant climbing all over him in public, thank you very much.
Well mostly, anyway.
It isn't that he wants to remember how it felt: Merlin's hands on him, his legs wrapped around Arthur's, the way it made Arthur's breath catch in his throat. No, he doesn't want to remember that at all.
And then he sees Merlin with his men.
.
As amusing as the prank had been, and as much as it had been the most perfect form of revenge, it had brought something to light that Arthur hadn't even noticed before. His men love touching Merlin.
It's almost as if, when it comes to Merlin, his knights have no concept of personal space. Their hands on his shoulders, Elyan ruffling his hair, the way Gwaine leans into him when he eats, making the most obscene noises, the way Percival grins at him and puts a hand on his cheek and the way Leon, stoic, serious Leon smiles at Merlin- it makes Arthur's heart seize in his chest a little, makes his knees weak.
It's all he can think about now: Merlin with them. It plagues his thoughts during the day: watching them tease him on the practice field and at night, seeing the way Merlin's eyes linger on them when he pours Arthur's wine.
When Merlin blows out the candles and leaves him to sleep, Arthur closes his eyes and imagines how it would be. How Merlin would look if Elyan ran a thumb over his mouth and pushed it in, or if Percival pushed him up against the nearest tree, hand knotted in Merlin's neckerchief, pulling him wherever he wanted to: down to his knees, or in for a punishing kiss. Leon, large hands on Merlin's hips guiding him to sit astride him. Or Gwaine, who he's almost positive has taken Merlin to his bed, kissing him rough and wet before pushing Merlin to the ground and undressing him, his hands skating over every inch of pale, smooth skin.
He can't resist then, can't stop himself from sliding his hand into his sleeping trousers and finding his cock, already hard and wet at the tip. He strokes himself almost torturously, long and slow, thumb swiping over the head as his other hand pinches at his nipples, making them ache. He can't allow himself to imagine what it would be like if it were Merlin's hand on him, Merlin's mouth taking him inside. It's far easier to imagine situations where Merlin is undressed and fucked by his men, because then it doesn't have to mean anything. It certainly doesn't mean that Arthur can't stop thinking about his manservant day in and day out and wanting to-
Oh, but Arthur does. He does want. Wants to be there when Merlin gives it up for his men, when he lets them take him in any way possible: wanton like a tart. But more than that, he wants to be the one to do the taking, wants to own him. To tell the rest of them to go to hell and steal Merlin away, strip the clothes from his body and fuck him slowly, so slow it's almost unbearable.
He isn't ready to admit it though, that he wants Merlin all to himself, and when Arthur comes, he bites down on his hand to stop him from yelling things that he shouldn't. It's easier to pretend that way.