Fic: "Coming Clean" | NC-17 | Arthur/Merlin
Title: Coming Clean
Author: shes_gone
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,600
Summary: Merlin's newest shortcut to finishing his chores is something of an acquired taste.
Warnings: Meritless porn. With felching. :D
Author's Note: In an effort to jump-start my completely broken porn engine, I decided to write something filthy and not let myself waffle over it. So this happened. 2011 Resolution? WRITE MORE ACTUAL PORN. WAFFLE LESS. (Saying it in all caps helps, y/y?) ♥reallycorking♥tailoredshirt♥
Coming Clean
The bed linen is smooth under his knees as he waits: a fine, luxurious weave that must have been a gift from a neighbouring kingdom, because fabrics woven in Camelot-even those meant for the royal beds-take months of washing before they're half so soft. It's a pity, Arthur thinks, that they will need to be changed in the morning. Merlin will just have to see that the laundresses are quicker with them this time.
"Are you planning to wait all night, Merlin?" he asks, peering back over his shoulder to where Merlin is kneeling behind him. "I'm getting cold."
"Just hold on," Merlin replies, "I'm trying not to make a mess with all this oil."
Arthur scoffs half-heartedly and watches Merlin wrap glistening fingers around his long, pale cock, then slide them along the shaft and over the tip, and if he'd been telling the truth about feeling cold, it wouldn't be a problem any more, as heat shivers through him. "C'mon then," he says, admiring the red flush of arousal colouring Merlin's chest and neck.
Merlin keeps a hand on his cock as he moves forward and tucks himself in close to Arthur's back, and there's damp breath against Arthur's neck as he aligns himself and pushes inside. Arthur grunts and pushes back, breathing hard as Merlin fills him until the tops of his thighs are flush against Arthur's hamstrings, hot and surprisingly sturdy.
"Fuck," Arthur grunts, resting in Merlin's lap until a pale hand comes around and splays over his stomach for leverage, and then he's on his knees again and Merlin's fucking him, cock sliding in and out of his arse, fingers digging into taut muscle, hot and uncomfortable and so fucking good-better than it has any right to be. He shouldn't like it so much, Arthur thinks, Merlin fucking him and fucking him and fucking him, but the heat of it coils in his balls anyway, pooling and humming and pulsing, and all he can do in answer is reach for his own cock.
"Don't," Merlin suddenly says, hard. Arthur startles, as much at the broken silence as at Merlin's tone, and his body stutters as they lose their rhythm. "Not yet," Merlin continues before Arthur can respond, voice less hard but only a little less demanding. Arthur's hand hovers a few inches from his cock as heavy breath drags in and out of his throat, and neither of them moves for a long, assessing moment.
Merlin leans forward and takes Arthur's earlobe into his mouth, scrapes it between his teeth. "Don't want you come yet," he says. Arthur breathes, and then his hand falls away from his cock.
Merlin pauses only another moment before moving again, finding his rhythm quickly, and Arthur meets every one of his thrusts, pushing himself down onto his cock and squeezing tight around it when Merlin's voice goes all high and needy, his thrusts getting faster, and then Merlin's coming, trembling and twitching inside him. After a moment, Merlin collapses into Arthur's back, pushing him face-first onto the mattress and landing on top of him, not so much pinning him as covering him like a wet blanket.
Arthur groans and slides his legs out from underneath them so his cock can reach the sheets, desperate for any sort of friction. Merlin's cock, warm and flagging, drags over the inside of his arsehole with the movement, sliding almost all the way out when Arthur presses his pelvis down.
"Stop," Merlin says, his breath hot and thick against the side of Arthur's throat. "Don't."
"Merlin," Arthur warns.
"Just wait," Merlin says. "Please." The last word produces a particularly warm burst of breath, and Arthur shudders. He goes still and focuses on the rhythmic heaving of Merlin's chest against his back, and the way it comes in perfect time with each breath against his neck.
Merlin pulls his wet cock the rest of the way out a minute later, and then, unexpectedly, aligns the length of it along Arthur's crease, letting it settle into it. Arthur knits his brow as Merlin presses it more snugly down between his cheeks and then slides up and down, slowly and deliberately wiping come all over Arthur's arse. When Merlin sits back, pulling himself free, Arthur watches over his shoulder as he swipes off what little come still clings to his cock with a tight circle of fingers, then brings them to his own mouth and sucks them clean.
"Merlin, I-"
"Just wait," Merlin cuts him off. Arthur frowns and strains his neck to watch as Merlin grips his arse and spreads him open. Nothing happens for a moment, and Arthur shivers as the come smeared over his skin starts to cool. Merlin leans his face down and breathes against the wetness before swiping at it with his tongue.
Arthur groans and pushes his hips back against Merlin's face, squirms under the wet trail of his tongue as it makes its way over his arse, lapping up all the mess. He swipes over Arthur's hole, which is still tender and wet, and Arthur buries his face in the pillow as he feels the tip work its way inside, breaching him just enough to give a small swirl along the inner ring.
"Fuck," Arthur chokes out, a moment before Merlin gives a frustrated grunt and sits back on his knees, hoisting Arthur's arse up and over his lap, forcing him onto all fours. Arthur's questioning oof is silenced the moment Merlin dives back in, the angle allowing him much easier access to Arthur's hole. His tongue pushes all the way inside and wriggles around a bit before his lips close over the rim of his arse, form a seal and suck, and it's possible Arthur actually expires a little bit on the spot, feeling the slickness inside him respond, slide out over his twitching arsehole and into Merlin's mouth.
Arthur's fingers fist desperately in the sheets before he reaches behind himself and twists his hand into Merlin's hair, accidentally-on-purpose pulling his face in harder, pressing Merlin's nose against his tailbone. Merlin grunts, then chuckles, hums, and suckles at Arthur's arsehole even more enthusiastically.
Arthur ruts back against his face, ruts forwards against his own stomach in a desperate attempt for friction on his cock, and he needs something, anything, just a tiny bit more so he can come-and his fingers are almost to his cock when, "Arthur, don't," Merlin says, and Arthur doesn't understand, because Merlin's tongue was buried in his arse just a second ago, and there's no way he could see anything, how did he know-"Merlin," Arthur whinges.
"I'm just about done here," Merlin says, breath ghosting hot over the spit-wet spread of Arthur's cheeks, "and then I'll tend to that. Be patient."
Arthur makes a noise that absolutely does not qualify as a whimper, and then Merlin's tongue returns to his arsehole, slipping inside once more before licking over and around it. He pulls back, after a minute, and runs his palms over Arthur's arse appraisingly.
"All right," he finally says, "turn over," and Arthur complies without a thought. Merlin smiles and kisses his way up Arthur's thighs like the shameless, torturous tease he is before finally, finally, finally touching his lips to the tip of Arthur's cock.
"Don't you dare get coy on me now," Arthur grits out, as Merlin runs the very tip of his tongue along the length of his shaft, the touch so light that it's not even warm, just cool where it leaves a tiny trail of wetness.
"Merlin," Arthur says, twitching. Merlin swirls his tongue around the rigid head of his cock before giving in, wrapping his lips firmly around it, and Arthur's coming into his mouth before Merlin has a chance to do much of anything else.
He very nearly blacks out, and is only vaguely aware of Merlin continuing to do... something as Arthur sinks, shattered, into the mattress. When he can focus, Merlin is still lapping at him gently, finding every stray bit of come he hasn't already managed to swallow.
"Are you-are you not getting enough to eat?" Arthur asks, attempting a frown but failing, the muscles of his face as slack as all the rest of him. "Is that what this is about?"
Merlin looks up at him, grin huge and pleased, the sight of which doesn't do anything at all funny to Arthur's insides. "No," Merlin answers. "I'm just tired of needing to change the linens every sodding time, and there're fewer stains this way."
Arthur stares as Merlin climbs his way up his body. "That's very-practical," Arthur says, and Merlin just smirks at him before leaning down to kiss him, deep and filthy.
"You taste like come," Arthur says, aiming for disapproving and missing by a country mile. Merlin responds by licking the flat of his tongue over Arthur's deliberately.
Later, as he settles in for sleep with Merlin's soft breath against his shoulder and their feet tangled together under the blanket, Arthur doesn't admit that it's rather nice not needing to squabble over who ought to sleep in the wet spot.
Author: shes_gone
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,600
Summary: Merlin's newest shortcut to finishing his chores is something of an acquired taste.
Warnings: Meritless porn. With felching. :D
Author's Note: In an effort to jump-start my completely broken porn engine, I decided to write something filthy and not let myself waffle over it. So this happened. 2011 Resolution? WRITE MORE ACTUAL PORN. WAFFLE LESS. (Saying it in all caps helps, y/y?) ♥reallycorking♥tailoredshirt♥
Coming Clean
The bed linen is smooth under his knees as he waits: a fine, luxurious weave that must have been a gift from a neighbouring kingdom, because fabrics woven in Camelot-even those meant for the royal beds-take months of washing before they're half so soft. It's a pity, Arthur thinks, that they will need to be changed in the morning. Merlin will just have to see that the laundresses are quicker with them this time.
"Are you planning to wait all night, Merlin?" he asks, peering back over his shoulder to where Merlin is kneeling behind him. "I'm getting cold."
"Just hold on," Merlin replies, "I'm trying not to make a mess with all this oil."
Arthur scoffs half-heartedly and watches Merlin wrap glistening fingers around his long, pale cock, then slide them along the shaft and over the tip, and if he'd been telling the truth about feeling cold, it wouldn't be a problem any more, as heat shivers through him. "C'mon then," he says, admiring the red flush of arousal colouring Merlin's chest and neck.
Merlin keeps a hand on his cock as he moves forward and tucks himself in close to Arthur's back, and there's damp breath against Arthur's neck as he aligns himself and pushes inside. Arthur grunts and pushes back, breathing hard as Merlin fills him until the tops of his thighs are flush against Arthur's hamstrings, hot and surprisingly sturdy.
"Fuck," Arthur grunts, resting in Merlin's lap until a pale hand comes around and splays over his stomach for leverage, and then he's on his knees again and Merlin's fucking him, cock sliding in and out of his arse, fingers digging into taut muscle, hot and uncomfortable and so fucking good-better than it has any right to be. He shouldn't like it so much, Arthur thinks, Merlin fucking him and fucking him and fucking him, but the heat of it coils in his balls anyway, pooling and humming and pulsing, and all he can do in answer is reach for his own cock.
"Don't," Merlin suddenly says, hard. Arthur startles, as much at the broken silence as at Merlin's tone, and his body stutters as they lose their rhythm. "Not yet," Merlin continues before Arthur can respond, voice less hard but only a little less demanding. Arthur's hand hovers a few inches from his cock as heavy breath drags in and out of his throat, and neither of them moves for a long, assessing moment.
Merlin leans forward and takes Arthur's earlobe into his mouth, scrapes it between his teeth. "Don't want you come yet," he says. Arthur breathes, and then his hand falls away from his cock.
Merlin pauses only another moment before moving again, finding his rhythm quickly, and Arthur meets every one of his thrusts, pushing himself down onto his cock and squeezing tight around it when Merlin's voice goes all high and needy, his thrusts getting faster, and then Merlin's coming, trembling and twitching inside him. After a moment, Merlin collapses into Arthur's back, pushing him face-first onto the mattress and landing on top of him, not so much pinning him as covering him like a wet blanket.
Arthur groans and slides his legs out from underneath them so his cock can reach the sheets, desperate for any sort of friction. Merlin's cock, warm and flagging, drags over the inside of his arsehole with the movement, sliding almost all the way out when Arthur presses his pelvis down.
"Stop," Merlin says, his breath hot and thick against the side of Arthur's throat. "Don't."
"Merlin," Arthur warns.
"Just wait," Merlin says. "Please." The last word produces a particularly warm burst of breath, and Arthur shudders. He goes still and focuses on the rhythmic heaving of Merlin's chest against his back, and the way it comes in perfect time with each breath against his neck.
Merlin pulls his wet cock the rest of the way out a minute later, and then, unexpectedly, aligns the length of it along Arthur's crease, letting it settle into it. Arthur knits his brow as Merlin presses it more snugly down between his cheeks and then slides up and down, slowly and deliberately wiping come all over Arthur's arse. When Merlin sits back, pulling himself free, Arthur watches over his shoulder as he swipes off what little come still clings to his cock with a tight circle of fingers, then brings them to his own mouth and sucks them clean.
"Merlin, I-"
"Just wait," Merlin cuts him off. Arthur frowns and strains his neck to watch as Merlin grips his arse and spreads him open. Nothing happens for a moment, and Arthur shivers as the come smeared over his skin starts to cool. Merlin leans his face down and breathes against the wetness before swiping at it with his tongue.
Arthur groans and pushes his hips back against Merlin's face, squirms under the wet trail of his tongue as it makes its way over his arse, lapping up all the mess. He swipes over Arthur's hole, which is still tender and wet, and Arthur buries his face in the pillow as he feels the tip work its way inside, breaching him just enough to give a small swirl along the inner ring.
"Fuck," Arthur chokes out, a moment before Merlin gives a frustrated grunt and sits back on his knees, hoisting Arthur's arse up and over his lap, forcing him onto all fours. Arthur's questioning oof is silenced the moment Merlin dives back in, the angle allowing him much easier access to Arthur's hole. His tongue pushes all the way inside and wriggles around a bit before his lips close over the rim of his arse, form a seal and suck, and it's possible Arthur actually expires a little bit on the spot, feeling the slickness inside him respond, slide out over his twitching arsehole and into Merlin's mouth.
Arthur's fingers fist desperately in the sheets before he reaches behind himself and twists his hand into Merlin's hair, accidentally-on-purpose pulling his face in harder, pressing Merlin's nose against his tailbone. Merlin grunts, then chuckles, hums, and suckles at Arthur's arsehole even more enthusiastically.
Arthur ruts back against his face, ruts forwards against his own stomach in a desperate attempt for friction on his cock, and he needs something, anything, just a tiny bit more so he can come-and his fingers are almost to his cock when, "Arthur, don't," Merlin says, and Arthur doesn't understand, because Merlin's tongue was buried in his arse just a second ago, and there's no way he could see anything, how did he know-"Merlin," Arthur whinges.
"I'm just about done here," Merlin says, breath ghosting hot over the spit-wet spread of Arthur's cheeks, "and then I'll tend to that. Be patient."
Arthur makes a noise that absolutely does not qualify as a whimper, and then Merlin's tongue returns to his arsehole, slipping inside once more before licking over and around it. He pulls back, after a minute, and runs his palms over Arthur's arse appraisingly.
"All right," he finally says, "turn over," and Arthur complies without a thought. Merlin smiles and kisses his way up Arthur's thighs like the shameless, torturous tease he is before finally, finally, finally touching his lips to the tip of Arthur's cock.
"Don't you dare get coy on me now," Arthur grits out, as Merlin runs the very tip of his tongue along the length of his shaft, the touch so light that it's not even warm, just cool where it leaves a tiny trail of wetness.
"Merlin," Arthur says, twitching. Merlin swirls his tongue around the rigid head of his cock before giving in, wrapping his lips firmly around it, and Arthur's coming into his mouth before Merlin has a chance to do much of anything else.
He very nearly blacks out, and is only vaguely aware of Merlin continuing to do... something as Arthur sinks, shattered, into the mattress. When he can focus, Merlin is still lapping at him gently, finding every stray bit of come he hasn't already managed to swallow.
"Are you-are you not getting enough to eat?" Arthur asks, attempting a frown but failing, the muscles of his face as slack as all the rest of him. "Is that what this is about?"
Merlin looks up at him, grin huge and pleased, the sight of which doesn't do anything at all funny to Arthur's insides. "No," Merlin answers. "I'm just tired of needing to change the linens every sodding time, and there're fewer stains this way."
Arthur stares as Merlin climbs his way up his body. "That's very-practical," Arthur says, and Merlin just smirks at him before leaning down to kiss him, deep and filthy.
"You taste like come," Arthur says, aiming for disapproving and missing by a country mile. Merlin responds by licking the flat of his tongue over Arthur's deliberately.
Later, as he settles in for sleep with Merlin's soft breath against his shoulder and their feet tangled together under the blanket, Arthur doesn't admit that it's rather nice not needing to squabble over who ought to sleep in the wet spot.