Fic: Dressed to Impress
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,235
Warnings: none
Summary: Merlin enlists Gwen's help in making a new costume for his upcoming competition, and Arthur...Arthur enjoys the show.
Part 3 of my Pole Dancing series [Part 1 | 2 | all]
Read on AO3.
Arthur thought he probably should have been more surprised when he let himself into his boyfriend’s flat and found said boyfriend standing in the sitting room, shirt off, and his secretary crouched at his feet running her hands down his leg. As it was, he just snorted when Merlin squirmed and Gwen slapped his arse with a sharp, “Stop fidgeting!”, and grinned when they both looked up at him.
“Arthur!” Merlin said, and smiled as if his friend’s face wasn’t currently at his crotch. “You’re early.” Gwen flashed him a smile, still crouched at Merlin’s feet.
“Oh, hi, Arthur.”
“Hi,” Arthur replied. And then, when neither of them seemed inclined to explain, “What’s all this about?”
“Measurements,” Gwen supplied, and Arthur finally saw the measuring tape in her hands as she readjusted it.
“I think you mean torture,” Merlin whinged. Gwen gave him an unimpressed look.
“I could’ve let Vivian do this,” she threatened. Merlin gaped down at her in horror at the mention of the other dancer, who, in addition to being incredibly vapid, had developed something of an obsession with Arthur after they’d been introduced, and a resulting hatred of Merlin. “Thought so. Now quit moving, unless you want your costume to fall off on stage.”
“What’s wrong with the old costume?” Arthur asked.
“New routine, new costume,” Gwen answered while scribbling something in a notebook. Arthur smirked when he saw Merlin already beginning to fidget again. He stopped immediately when Gwen raised an eyebrow at him, and adopted a martyred expression as she brandished her tape measure one more time before nodding, satisfied. “There, finished. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Merlin didn’t say anything, perhaps wisely, and Gwen began to shove her things back into her purse.
“I’ll let you know when it gets close to finished so we can do a fitting. Should only be a few days. You’re both coming to dinner this weekend, right?”
“Of course,” Arthur assured her.
“Good. I’ll see myself out, then. See you tomorrow, Arthur.”
“Bye, Gwen. And thank you,” Merlin added somewhat sheepishly. Gwen smiled at him, and then she was gone, and Merlin collapsed onto the sofa with an exaggerated sigh. Arthur laughed.
“It can’t have been that bad.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Merlin grumbled, lifting his head from a throw pillow to glare at Arthur. “She made me look at fabric swatches for an hour.”
“Poor thing,” Arthur mocked, and Merlin pulled a ridiculous pathetic face and held his arms wide like a child, which Arthur was helpless to resist. He allowed himself to be dragged onto the sofa and arranged them so Merlin was lying with his legs across Arthur’s lap. Merlin immediately snuggled up against him.
“This is my least favourite part of dancing,” he grumbled. “I don’t understand why I can’t just wear my normal shorts for competitions. I mean, honestly, who cares whether bloody ‘spring hill’ or ‘misty fern’ is the right shade of green for my skin tone?”
Arthur thought he deserved an award for not laughing. “Well, which is it?”
“Neither. Apparently, I’m a winter.”
Arthur did laugh at that, but he did it quietly and punctuated it with kisses against Merlin’s jaw. “You know, as fascinating as this conversation is, I have to say I’d prefer getting you out of your clothes rather than talk about them.”
It was Merlin’s turn to laugh then. “Was that a line? Did you actually just use that on me?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Arthur replied smugly, hand moving to follow the inseam of Merlin’s sweats. Merlin laughed again and ducked his head to avoid Arthur’s lips.
“I’m not that easy,” he teased, smirking at Arthur’s sound of protest. “Feed me first, then we’ll talk.”
“So needy,” Arthur complained, before dragging Merlin off of the sofa and into the kitchen.
---
No matter his original indifference about Merlin’s costume, in the weeks leading up to the competition Arthur couldn’t help but feel curious. Whenever he brought it up, Merlin would blush and change the subject, and Gwen had taken to giving him sly looks whenever Merlin was mentioned. Any attempts to get her to tell him anything, though, were met with failure.
“You’re more impatient than a child,” Gwen had accused him just a few days ago after she’d caught him trying to peek at a few sketches poking out of her bag (again).
“I just don’t understand all the bloody secrecy,” Arthur had retorted mulishly. Gwen’d laughed.
“You’re grumpy when you don’t get your way. Just wait a while longer. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
On the day of the competition, Arthur woke up in his own bed, alone, for the first Saturday in weeks. His grumpiness at the fact lasted until he rolled over and checked his mobile, and found that he had a text from Merlin.
gwen woke me up at 7 to start getting ready. on a saturday. you may need a new secretary.
He laughed, sent back Serves you right for enlisting her, and moved to get ready for the day.
---
Arthur was far from an expert on pole dancing, but he’d learned enough to know that the performers so far had been good. Even Vivian had done well in her beginner class, though Arthur has spent a good part of her routine praying her tits wouldn’t pop out of her glittery slip of a costume. Freya was excellent. Arthur always loved watching her perform, where all shades of the shy girl she was off stage disappeared.
Gwen watched it all from beside him, occasionally throwing him sly looks, like she had a secret she was dying to reveal. Arthur ignored her. But he couldn’t quite stifle the feeling of anticipation when the men’s division began, and he shifted in his seat, which earned him a full-out smirk from Gwen.
“First in competition for men’s intermediate class,” the announcer said, preventing Gwen from further comment, “is Cedric Cornelius.”
There were only a few dancers in the intermediate class, but they all seemed to drag by. Finally the advanced class began. The man on stage was a man Arthur had never seen before. He was dressed simply in black trousers and a beanie, with a triskelion tattooed on his chest. And he was good. Arthur could easily imagine Merlin watching nervously from the eaves somewhere as the dancer (Mordred, according to the program) literally swung himself around. Mordred received more than a few catcalls at the end of his routine, which he accepted with a grin and a tiny wave.
“Merlin’s going to have to do really well to top that,” Gwen observed, watching Mordred as he sauntered offstage.
“He will,” Arthur replied firmly.
“He better,” Lance put in from Gwen’s other side, “because he’s up next.”
“Next in competition,” the announcer called, right on time, “for men’s advanced class is Merlin Emrys.”
The audience clapped politely, but before Arthur could catch a glimpse of Merlin the lights dimmed. A shadowy figure made its way on stage, but it was too dark to see anything. The figure stopped in the middle of the stage. Right on cue, the first note of the song played, and a single spotlight flared into life, right on Merlin.
Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. He was used to seeing Merlin in the tight, short trousers he preferred for dancing, but he was sure he’d never seen a pair tighter or shorter than the ones he was wearing now. They put his long legs on full display, a deep royal purple against the pale skin of his thighs. He was mostly doubled over with his face in shadow, but Arthur could see the glimmer of glitter catching the light on his chest. He was moving too quickly for Arthur to catch any of the finer details, but then suddenly he froze in a half split, and slowly, slowly arched his back, stretching his arm along with it, and Arthur practically swallowed his tongue because Merlin’s body was gorgeous, long and lean and powerful.
That was when Arthur noticed the wrist cuffs.
He barely had time to register the sight before Merlin was moving again, this time towards the pole. He gave a cheeky wink over his shoulder, like he did every performance, and then spun and lifted his body. For a moment Arthur had a perfect, upside-down view of Merlin’s arse in those shorts, and made a quick mental note to give Gwen a raise before he was distracted again by Merlin’s body.
Merlin’s routines always had an undertone of sexiness to them, but this one was different. There was nothing overly sexual about the costume in particular, but something about the low hum of the music and Merlin’s easy confidence made a slow heat burn in Arthur’s stomach. Merlin ran a hand through his hair, carefully styled into a messy, after-sex scruff, and Arthur pictured himself doing the same thing later, weaving his fingers through Merlin’s hair to anchor himself while he sucks kisses into his neck. His legs wrapped around the pole for balance, and Arthur imagined them around his waist, and his fingers tucking into the smooth leather wrapped around his wrists.
The music slowed, and Arthur finally got a full view of Merlin’s face. Like everything else, it was subtly done, but the barest hint of eyeliner around his eyes was enough to flare the heat in Arthur’s belly. Make-up had never really done much for him before, but Merlin. Arthur imagined he could see the blue of his eyes even from here, accented by the slight shimmer of glitter on his cheekbones.
The routine was over before Arthur realized it. Merlin bowed for his applause (and surely it was louder than Mordred’s?), and waved as he exited. Arthur watched him even as he disappeared.
“So,” Gwen began, and Arthur didn’t have to look to know she was grinning smugly, “what’d you think?”
---
Arthur remembered very little of the awards. He had a vague memory of applauding while Freya collected her silver medal, and of Gwen gripping his arm when Mordred did the same. The next thing he knew his arm was nearly ripped off when Merlin’s name was called for first place, and he cheered louder than anyone while Merlin accepted his medal.
The instant the awards were over, Merlin hurried off of the stage and ran straight towards their small group. Arthur had about two seconds to brace himself before he threw himself into Arthur’s arms, crushing their chests together without a care for the glitter still on his skin or the medal between them, and Arthur absolutely had to kiss him then.
“I won!” Merlin laughed once he and Arthur separated. “Christ, I can’t believe it. I thought for sure it’d be Mordred.”
“You were amazing,” Gwen assured him, sweeping forward to pull him into a hug. “Best routine yet.”
“Well done,” Lance agreed. Arthur said nothing, too busy staring at Merlin’s body to focus on much else.
“Freya, too. Helen’s going to be thrilled,” Merlin continued.
“As she should be, you two were brilliant. Why don’t we grab a pint to celebrate? My treat.”
“Mmm, tempting. But I’m gonna pass. There’s something I have to take care of first. Right, Arthur?” Merlin said, and Arthur guiltily tore his gaze away from the glitter making the hollow of Merlin’s throat shimmer to see Merlin watching him with a knowing smirk on his face. Arthur swallowed, and Merlin’s eyes darkened.
“We’ll see you later, then,” he said to Gwen and Lance, and reached over to grab Arthur’s hand.
---
They were both a little too old to be groping someone in the back of a cab, so Arthur settled for keeping his hand firmly on Merlin’s sweatpants-clad thigh for the entirety of the journey. He practically tripped over his own feet when Merlin wriggled his arse cheekily as he climbed out of the cab, but by some miracle they made it up the stairs and into Arthur’s flat.
The door had barely closed before Arthur pressed Merlin against the wall, mouthing hungrily at his neck with all the pent up frustration of having to look for so long without touching. Merlin’s skin was sticky with sweat and glitter, but Arthur couldn’t get enough of it anyway. He reached down to Merlin’s wrists and tucked his fingers into the cuffs there, feeling Merlin’s wild pulse against his skin.
“Arthur,” Merlin huffed when Arthur licked at his collarbones, “come on, move-“
He pushed at Arthur’s shoulders until he relented and released Merlin just enough to let him move away from the wall. He let Merlin lead them through the flat and into the bedroom before his patience ran out and he tugged Merlin against him again.
Arthur slid his hands under Merlin’s t-shirt and, palms flat against his belly, then his chest, dragged them up until Merlin made an impatient sound and tugged it completely off. A flush was already spreading across Merlin’s chest, and Arthur leaned in to press his mouth to it. Merlin giggled and squirmed when Arthur brushed over a ticklish spot on his belly on his way to hook his fingers into the waistband of Merlin’s sweats. Grinning against Merlin’s chest, Arthur pushed them out of the way and slid his hands up to cup Merlin’s arse, loving the way his muscles shifted beneath his hands as Merlin kicked his trousers the rest of the way off.
“Gorgeous,” Arthur mumbled, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband to feel Merlin’s skin. Merlin huffed out a laugh.
“Like them?”
“Love them,” Arthur replied, straightening to follow the trail of glitter with his lips up to Merlin’s jaw.
“Gwen’s going to be insufferable about this,” Merlin said a little breathlessly. “She’s been all smug since the first fitting.”
“Are you really thinking about Guinevere right now?” Arthur demanded with a pointed squeeze to Merlin’s arse. Merlin blinked at him innocently.
“Am I supposed to be thinking about anyone else in particular?”
“Cheeky,” Arthur growled, but Merlin just laughed. His eyeliner had smudged a little, and Arthur reached up to thumb along the mark. Merlin, though, was contrary, and turned his head before Arthur had the chance to suck Arthur’s thumb into his mouth. Arthur moaned as Merlin dragged his tongue around his finger, eyes dark and cheeks hollowed and the fucking glitter still everywhere. He released the finger with one last suck, using Arthur’s distraction to step away and let himself fall back onto the mattress, grinning up at Arthur.
“Your turn,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows and nodding at Arthur’s clothes.
Arthur glared weakly at him but hurried to strip, anyway. His shirt went first, and Merlin watched hungrily as each inch of skin was exposed. He made no move to pull Arthur to him, so Arthur reached for the buttons of his trousers. Merlin bit his lip at the sight of Arthur’s half-hard cock tenting his pants and shifted, letting his thighs fall open. He reached down as Arthur watched to rub himself through his shorts, which were already tight across his erection.
He made an impatient motion with his hands.
“Get those off, too,” he demanded, and Arthur might’ve made a snarky comment back if it hadn’t been Merin’s best idea yet. Merlin made an approving sound when Arthur stripped off his pants, drinking in his naked body.
“Like what you see?” Arthur asked pointedly.
“You had plenty of time to ogle. Now it’s my turn,” replied Merlin, but he scooted back in invitation anyway. Arthur climbed onto the bed and drew Merlin in for a kiss, letting his hands travel down to grope Merlin’s arse again. Merlin stuttered out a surprised breath when one of his fingers slipped down to rub against his hole and pushed back into the touch. Arthur smirked.
“Someone’s eager.”
In response, Merlin just raised an eyebrow and wrapped his fingers around Arthur’s very interested cock and sniggered at Arthur’s resulting groan.
Arthur’d been too long aroused tonight, and the smallest touch from Merlin to his cock sent a jolt of pleasure down his spine. He rolled them over eagerly, fitting their mouths together and rolling his hips. Merlin was still wearing his costume shorts, but beneath them he was as hard as Arthur was, and met Arthur’s eagerness with his own enthusiasm. Neither of them made any move to speed things along for several minutes, content with messy snogging and lazy rutting with so-good-not-enough friction.
Arthur might’ve kept doing just that until they both came if Merlin hadn’t started making tiny, desperate sounds with every thrust. His hands, which before had been pressed into Arthur’s back, were clutching at his arms now, and Arthur realized his own had moved in to tangle in Merlin’s hair. His mind flashed back to his fantasy during Merlin’s performance, and he groaned into the skin of Merlin’s throat.
“Arthur?” Merlin gasped, confused, when Arthur shifted his weight up and away from Merlin’s body. He relaxed a little when Arthur gave him a reassuring smile, and then grinned when Arthur clarified, “Condoms.”
“Mmm. Good idea,” Merlin agreed, giving himself a few tugs through his shorts. Arthur had to force himself to turn away to dig through the nightstand, and when he came back he threw the supplies beside Merlin before leaning down to suck kisses into his chest, trailing down the line of hair on his abdomen down to where the fabric began.
He pressed a kiss to the wing of Merlin’s dragon tattoo as he eased the shorts down, and then again to the head of Merlin’s cock once it sprang free.
“Don’t tease,” Merlin huffed, curling his fingers into Arthur’s hair, “Arthur.”
Arthur put a hand on each of Merlin’s thighs and spread them, pushing up until his knees were tucked against his chest. Merlin got the hint then, and eagerly held himself open as Arthur settled into position.
The first lick was light, just a test. The second was surer. On the third Arthur let himself linger, pressing his tongue to Merlin’s hole without really pushing. Merlin practically purred when Arthur finally thrust inside. The muscles of his thighs were tight with the strain of being in such an awkward position, but Arthur reveled in each tremble. He fucking loved rimming his partners, loved how it made them fall apart just to have his tongue. Merlin, especially, was gorgeous whenever he did this. He always started out with his hands behind his knees, keeping himself folded, but soon he’d begin whinging and he’d reach down to grab his arse cheeks, spreading himself wider and letting his toes curl against Arthur’s shoulders. Usually Arthur would take pity and reach up to stroke his cock whenever he got like this, but tonight he had other plans.
“Don’t fucking stop,” Merlin cried, staring down at Arthur with wild eyes as Arthur straightened. Arthur ignored him and crawled forward so his cock slid into the crease of Merlin’s thigh, and both of them moaned.
“Don’t want you to come yet,” Arthur told him as he reached for the lube.
Merlin moaned again when he saw what Arthur was doing, and pushed himself to lie on his belly, shoving a pillow under his hips.
Arthur didn’t dawdle opening him up. He went as quickly as he could without actually hurting Merlin before rolling on the condom and moving into position. Merlin’s eyes were closed, half his face hidden in pillows, and Arthur leaned down to suck on the lobe of his ear as he eased inside his hole. He couldn’t hold back his soft groan, but judging by the hitch in Merlin’s breathing, he didn’t care. Arthur gave him the barest moment to adjust before he started thrusting, just the merest roll of his hips until Merlin huffed in frustration and pushed back against him.
“I’m not a doll, Arthur, just fuck me,” Merlin panted, which melted into a moan when Arthur obeyed. The angle was awkward, though, so Arthur shifted so he was kneeling between Merlin’s splayed thighs, and fuck it was good. He was vaguely aware of Merlin moaning something into the pillow, but he was far too distracted by the sight of his cock pounding into Merlin’s arse to pay attention. Merlin didn’t seem to care. He rolled his hips back to meet each of Arthur’s, grinding his cock into the mattress for friction.
“Yes, yes,” Arthur heard Merlin moan, and he came with a hard shudder. Arthur slowed his thrusts, letting Merlin ride the aftershocks before leaning down and pressing his mouth against his shoulder blade.
“Alright?” he asked. He saw the small quirk of a smile on Merlin’s lips, followed by a short nod. “Can I still fuck you?”
Another nod. Arthur kissed his shoulder in thanks before he gave a small, experimental thrust. That only lasted a few moment, though, before he gave in and resumed the rhythm from before. He managed a few more thrusts before he felt the tightness in his belly, but the instant he felt Merlin squeeze around his cock he was gone, hips stuttering in orgasm.
He let himself fall forward to press along Merlin’s back for just a moment before rolling off to dispose of the condom. Merlin watched him with a lazy grin, kicking the stained pillow off of the bed and stretching like a cat. A very sated, happy cat. Arthur grinned at the thought.
“What?” Merlin asked him, sliding the leather cuffs off his wrists.
“Nothing,” Arthur replied. He threw his arm over Merlin’s waist to draw him closer. “Just thinking.”
“Sleep now. Think later,” Merlin mumbled, snuggling in closer to Arthur. Arthur chuckled, but made no comment and reached down to wrestle the duvet over them for the night.
---
It’s the sun that wakes Arthur up the next morning. He grumbles and squints and contemplates poking Merlin awake, but that idea disappears the instant he looks down and sees Merlin curled in sleep. He looks sweet and there’s still fucking glitter on his face where it hasn’t rubbed off on the pillow. Arthur carefully traces a finger over Merlin’s hand on the pillow, and he twitches, but doesn’t stir. Good, Arthur decides, he’ll have more time.
He slides carefully out of bed, keeping a watchful eye on Merlin. He doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror, just steps into his pants and walks towards the kitchen. Usually on competition nights, Merlin would go out for drinks with Gwen or Lance or whoever else was there. Arthur felt a little guilty about dragging him into bed after such a good performance, but he hoped this would make up for it.
There were thankfully eggs in the fridge, and bread for toast, and enough tea for an army. Bacon was a little harder, so Arthur had to make do with beans. He’d gathered his supplies and was working on the eggs when a stifled laugh came from the doorway, and he spun around to see Merlin watching him, hiding a grin behind his hand.
“You’re awake,” he said with a frown. Merlin sniggered.
“I am. And you’re cooking.”
“I was supposed to make you breakfast in bed,” Arthur pouted, feeling thoroughly put out. “It was going to be incredibly romantic.”
He got a ridiculously fond smile for that, and the sight of it almost made up for his ruined gesture. Almost.
“We can still have breakfast in bed. I’ll just have to help you carry it,” Merlin said, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Arthur’s waist. Arthur felt his irritation disappear, because Merlin was still warm from the bed and in his arms and yeah, that was good enough. He gave Merlin a quick squeeze and turned to finish off the eggs. When he turned around again, Merlin was still looking at him with an utterly idiot smile on his face.
“What?” he grumbled. “I’m just cooking. It’s not that unusual.”
Merlin laughed, and shook his head. He reached out and ran his finger over Arthur’s lips, his cheek, and down to his chest.
“You’ve got glitter,” he said, eyes crinkling with his smile, “everywhere.”
Arthur looked down, and sure enough, there was glitter splashed all across his chest, and when he raised his own hand and pressed it to his face, a few flakes fell. Merlin giggled at him, and Arthur couldn’t help but join in.
“You look ridiculous,” Merlin laughed.
“No more than you do.” Arthur shook his head, causing another rainfall of glitter. “How do we get this stuff off?”
“Hmm,” Merlin hummed and stepped forward to press himself to Arthur again. “Breakfast first, since you worked so hard on it. And then shower?”
“Together?”
Merlin smiled. “Absolutely.”
“Sold,” Arthur replied, and leaned forward to press a kiss to the tip of Merlin’s nose. It was ridiculous and all kinds of cheesy, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed when it brought another fond smile to Merlin’s face.
“I love you,” he said, easy as breathing, and Arthur felt his own smile widen.
“Of course you do, I make you breakfast,” he replied, and that was that, until much later, when the glitter had been thoroughly scrubbed off and lazy morning sex had led to an afternoon on the sofa, and Arthur pressed his own “I love you” into the skin of Merlin’s wrist.
Part 4
Word Count: 4,235
Warnings: none
Summary: Merlin enlists Gwen's help in making a new costume for his upcoming competition, and Arthur...Arthur enjoys the show.
Part 3 of my Pole Dancing series [Part 1 | 2 | all]
Read on AO3.
Arthur thought he probably should have been more surprised when he let himself into his boyfriend’s flat and found said boyfriend standing in the sitting room, shirt off, and his secretary crouched at his feet running her hands down his leg. As it was, he just snorted when Merlin squirmed and Gwen slapped his arse with a sharp, “Stop fidgeting!”, and grinned when they both looked up at him.
“Arthur!” Merlin said, and smiled as if his friend’s face wasn’t currently at his crotch. “You’re early.” Gwen flashed him a smile, still crouched at Merlin’s feet.
“Oh, hi, Arthur.”
“Hi,” Arthur replied. And then, when neither of them seemed inclined to explain, “What’s all this about?”
“Measurements,” Gwen supplied, and Arthur finally saw the measuring tape in her hands as she readjusted it.
“I think you mean torture,” Merlin whinged. Gwen gave him an unimpressed look.
“I could’ve let Vivian do this,” she threatened. Merlin gaped down at her in horror at the mention of the other dancer, who, in addition to being incredibly vapid, had developed something of an obsession with Arthur after they’d been introduced, and a resulting hatred of Merlin. “Thought so. Now quit moving, unless you want your costume to fall off on stage.”
“What’s wrong with the old costume?” Arthur asked.
“New routine, new costume,” Gwen answered while scribbling something in a notebook. Arthur smirked when he saw Merlin already beginning to fidget again. He stopped immediately when Gwen raised an eyebrow at him, and adopted a martyred expression as she brandished her tape measure one more time before nodding, satisfied. “There, finished. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Merlin didn’t say anything, perhaps wisely, and Gwen began to shove her things back into her purse.
“I’ll let you know when it gets close to finished so we can do a fitting. Should only be a few days. You’re both coming to dinner this weekend, right?”
“Of course,” Arthur assured her.
“Good. I’ll see myself out, then. See you tomorrow, Arthur.”
“Bye, Gwen. And thank you,” Merlin added somewhat sheepishly. Gwen smiled at him, and then she was gone, and Merlin collapsed onto the sofa with an exaggerated sigh. Arthur laughed.
“It can’t have been that bad.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Merlin grumbled, lifting his head from a throw pillow to glare at Arthur. “She made me look at fabric swatches for an hour.”
“Poor thing,” Arthur mocked, and Merlin pulled a ridiculous pathetic face and held his arms wide like a child, which Arthur was helpless to resist. He allowed himself to be dragged onto the sofa and arranged them so Merlin was lying with his legs across Arthur’s lap. Merlin immediately snuggled up against him.
“This is my least favourite part of dancing,” he grumbled. “I don’t understand why I can’t just wear my normal shorts for competitions. I mean, honestly, who cares whether bloody ‘spring hill’ or ‘misty fern’ is the right shade of green for my skin tone?”
Arthur thought he deserved an award for not laughing. “Well, which is it?”
“Neither. Apparently, I’m a winter.”
Arthur did laugh at that, but he did it quietly and punctuated it with kisses against Merlin’s jaw. “You know, as fascinating as this conversation is, I have to say I’d prefer getting you out of your clothes rather than talk about them.”
It was Merlin’s turn to laugh then. “Was that a line? Did you actually just use that on me?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Arthur replied smugly, hand moving to follow the inseam of Merlin’s sweats. Merlin laughed again and ducked his head to avoid Arthur’s lips.
“I’m not that easy,” he teased, smirking at Arthur’s sound of protest. “Feed me first, then we’ll talk.”
“So needy,” Arthur complained, before dragging Merlin off of the sofa and into the kitchen.
---
No matter his original indifference about Merlin’s costume, in the weeks leading up to the competition Arthur couldn’t help but feel curious. Whenever he brought it up, Merlin would blush and change the subject, and Gwen had taken to giving him sly looks whenever Merlin was mentioned. Any attempts to get her to tell him anything, though, were met with failure.
“You’re more impatient than a child,” Gwen had accused him just a few days ago after she’d caught him trying to peek at a few sketches poking out of her bag (again).
“I just don’t understand all the bloody secrecy,” Arthur had retorted mulishly. Gwen’d laughed.
“You’re grumpy when you don’t get your way. Just wait a while longer. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
On the day of the competition, Arthur woke up in his own bed, alone, for the first Saturday in weeks. His grumpiness at the fact lasted until he rolled over and checked his mobile, and found that he had a text from Merlin.
gwen woke me up at 7 to start getting ready. on a saturday. you may need a new secretary.
He laughed, sent back Serves you right for enlisting her, and moved to get ready for the day.
---
Arthur was far from an expert on pole dancing, but he’d learned enough to know that the performers so far had been good. Even Vivian had done well in her beginner class, though Arthur has spent a good part of her routine praying her tits wouldn’t pop out of her glittery slip of a costume. Freya was excellent. Arthur always loved watching her perform, where all shades of the shy girl she was off stage disappeared.
Gwen watched it all from beside him, occasionally throwing him sly looks, like she had a secret she was dying to reveal. Arthur ignored her. But he couldn’t quite stifle the feeling of anticipation when the men’s division began, and he shifted in his seat, which earned him a full-out smirk from Gwen.
“First in competition for men’s intermediate class,” the announcer said, preventing Gwen from further comment, “is Cedric Cornelius.”
There were only a few dancers in the intermediate class, but they all seemed to drag by. Finally the advanced class began. The man on stage was a man Arthur had never seen before. He was dressed simply in black trousers and a beanie, with a triskelion tattooed on his chest. And he was good. Arthur could easily imagine Merlin watching nervously from the eaves somewhere as the dancer (Mordred, according to the program) literally swung himself around. Mordred received more than a few catcalls at the end of his routine, which he accepted with a grin and a tiny wave.
“Merlin’s going to have to do really well to top that,” Gwen observed, watching Mordred as he sauntered offstage.
“He will,” Arthur replied firmly.
“He better,” Lance put in from Gwen’s other side, “because he’s up next.”
“Next in competition,” the announcer called, right on time, “for men’s advanced class is Merlin Emrys.”
The audience clapped politely, but before Arthur could catch a glimpse of Merlin the lights dimmed. A shadowy figure made its way on stage, but it was too dark to see anything. The figure stopped in the middle of the stage. Right on cue, the first note of the song played, and a single spotlight flared into life, right on Merlin.
Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. He was used to seeing Merlin in the tight, short trousers he preferred for dancing, but he was sure he’d never seen a pair tighter or shorter than the ones he was wearing now. They put his long legs on full display, a deep royal purple against the pale skin of his thighs. He was mostly doubled over with his face in shadow, but Arthur could see the glimmer of glitter catching the light on his chest. He was moving too quickly for Arthur to catch any of the finer details, but then suddenly he froze in a half split, and slowly, slowly arched his back, stretching his arm along with it, and Arthur practically swallowed his tongue because Merlin’s body was gorgeous, long and lean and powerful.
That was when Arthur noticed the wrist cuffs.
He barely had time to register the sight before Merlin was moving again, this time towards the pole. He gave a cheeky wink over his shoulder, like he did every performance, and then spun and lifted his body. For a moment Arthur had a perfect, upside-down view of Merlin’s arse in those shorts, and made a quick mental note to give Gwen a raise before he was distracted again by Merlin’s body.
Merlin’s routines always had an undertone of sexiness to them, but this one was different. There was nothing overly sexual about the costume in particular, but something about the low hum of the music and Merlin’s easy confidence made a slow heat burn in Arthur’s stomach. Merlin ran a hand through his hair, carefully styled into a messy, after-sex scruff, and Arthur pictured himself doing the same thing later, weaving his fingers through Merlin’s hair to anchor himself while he sucks kisses into his neck. His legs wrapped around the pole for balance, and Arthur imagined them around his waist, and his fingers tucking into the smooth leather wrapped around his wrists.
The music slowed, and Arthur finally got a full view of Merlin’s face. Like everything else, it was subtly done, but the barest hint of eyeliner around his eyes was enough to flare the heat in Arthur’s belly. Make-up had never really done much for him before, but Merlin. Arthur imagined he could see the blue of his eyes even from here, accented by the slight shimmer of glitter on his cheekbones.
The routine was over before Arthur realized it. Merlin bowed for his applause (and surely it was louder than Mordred’s?), and waved as he exited. Arthur watched him even as he disappeared.
“So,” Gwen began, and Arthur didn’t have to look to know she was grinning smugly, “what’d you think?”
---
Arthur remembered very little of the awards. He had a vague memory of applauding while Freya collected her silver medal, and of Gwen gripping his arm when Mordred did the same. The next thing he knew his arm was nearly ripped off when Merlin’s name was called for first place, and he cheered louder than anyone while Merlin accepted his medal.
The instant the awards were over, Merlin hurried off of the stage and ran straight towards their small group. Arthur had about two seconds to brace himself before he threw himself into Arthur’s arms, crushing their chests together without a care for the glitter still on his skin or the medal between them, and Arthur absolutely had to kiss him then.
“I won!” Merlin laughed once he and Arthur separated. “Christ, I can’t believe it. I thought for sure it’d be Mordred.”
“You were amazing,” Gwen assured him, sweeping forward to pull him into a hug. “Best routine yet.”
“Well done,” Lance agreed. Arthur said nothing, too busy staring at Merlin’s body to focus on much else.
“Freya, too. Helen’s going to be thrilled,” Merlin continued.
“As she should be, you two were brilliant. Why don’t we grab a pint to celebrate? My treat.”
“Mmm, tempting. But I’m gonna pass. There’s something I have to take care of first. Right, Arthur?” Merlin said, and Arthur guiltily tore his gaze away from the glitter making the hollow of Merlin’s throat shimmer to see Merlin watching him with a knowing smirk on his face. Arthur swallowed, and Merlin’s eyes darkened.
“We’ll see you later, then,” he said to Gwen and Lance, and reached over to grab Arthur’s hand.
---
They were both a little too old to be groping someone in the back of a cab, so Arthur settled for keeping his hand firmly on Merlin’s sweatpants-clad thigh for the entirety of the journey. He practically tripped over his own feet when Merlin wriggled his arse cheekily as he climbed out of the cab, but by some miracle they made it up the stairs and into Arthur’s flat.
The door had barely closed before Arthur pressed Merlin against the wall, mouthing hungrily at his neck with all the pent up frustration of having to look for so long without touching. Merlin’s skin was sticky with sweat and glitter, but Arthur couldn’t get enough of it anyway. He reached down to Merlin’s wrists and tucked his fingers into the cuffs there, feeling Merlin’s wild pulse against his skin.
“Arthur,” Merlin huffed when Arthur licked at his collarbones, “come on, move-“
He pushed at Arthur’s shoulders until he relented and released Merlin just enough to let him move away from the wall. He let Merlin lead them through the flat and into the bedroom before his patience ran out and he tugged Merlin against him again.
Arthur slid his hands under Merlin’s t-shirt and, palms flat against his belly, then his chest, dragged them up until Merlin made an impatient sound and tugged it completely off. A flush was already spreading across Merlin’s chest, and Arthur leaned in to press his mouth to it. Merlin giggled and squirmed when Arthur brushed over a ticklish spot on his belly on his way to hook his fingers into the waistband of Merlin’s sweats. Grinning against Merlin’s chest, Arthur pushed them out of the way and slid his hands up to cup Merlin’s arse, loving the way his muscles shifted beneath his hands as Merlin kicked his trousers the rest of the way off.
“Gorgeous,” Arthur mumbled, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband to feel Merlin’s skin. Merlin huffed out a laugh.
“Like them?”
“Love them,” Arthur replied, straightening to follow the trail of glitter with his lips up to Merlin’s jaw.
“Gwen’s going to be insufferable about this,” Merlin said a little breathlessly. “She’s been all smug since the first fitting.”
“Are you really thinking about Guinevere right now?” Arthur demanded with a pointed squeeze to Merlin’s arse. Merlin blinked at him innocently.
“Am I supposed to be thinking about anyone else in particular?”
“Cheeky,” Arthur growled, but Merlin just laughed. His eyeliner had smudged a little, and Arthur reached up to thumb along the mark. Merlin, though, was contrary, and turned his head before Arthur had the chance to suck Arthur’s thumb into his mouth. Arthur moaned as Merlin dragged his tongue around his finger, eyes dark and cheeks hollowed and the fucking glitter still everywhere. He released the finger with one last suck, using Arthur’s distraction to step away and let himself fall back onto the mattress, grinning up at Arthur.
“Your turn,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows and nodding at Arthur’s clothes.
Arthur glared weakly at him but hurried to strip, anyway. His shirt went first, and Merlin watched hungrily as each inch of skin was exposed. He made no move to pull Arthur to him, so Arthur reached for the buttons of his trousers. Merlin bit his lip at the sight of Arthur’s half-hard cock tenting his pants and shifted, letting his thighs fall open. He reached down as Arthur watched to rub himself through his shorts, which were already tight across his erection.
He made an impatient motion with his hands.
“Get those off, too,” he demanded, and Arthur might’ve made a snarky comment back if it hadn’t been Merin’s best idea yet. Merlin made an approving sound when Arthur stripped off his pants, drinking in his naked body.
“Like what you see?” Arthur asked pointedly.
“You had plenty of time to ogle. Now it’s my turn,” replied Merlin, but he scooted back in invitation anyway. Arthur climbed onto the bed and drew Merlin in for a kiss, letting his hands travel down to grope Merlin’s arse again. Merlin stuttered out a surprised breath when one of his fingers slipped down to rub against his hole and pushed back into the touch. Arthur smirked.
“Someone’s eager.”
In response, Merlin just raised an eyebrow and wrapped his fingers around Arthur’s very interested cock and sniggered at Arthur’s resulting groan.
Arthur’d been too long aroused tonight, and the smallest touch from Merlin to his cock sent a jolt of pleasure down his spine. He rolled them over eagerly, fitting their mouths together and rolling his hips. Merlin was still wearing his costume shorts, but beneath them he was as hard as Arthur was, and met Arthur’s eagerness with his own enthusiasm. Neither of them made any move to speed things along for several minutes, content with messy snogging and lazy rutting with so-good-not-enough friction.
Arthur might’ve kept doing just that until they both came if Merlin hadn’t started making tiny, desperate sounds with every thrust. His hands, which before had been pressed into Arthur’s back, were clutching at his arms now, and Arthur realized his own had moved in to tangle in Merlin’s hair. His mind flashed back to his fantasy during Merlin’s performance, and he groaned into the skin of Merlin’s throat.
“Arthur?” Merlin gasped, confused, when Arthur shifted his weight up and away from Merlin’s body. He relaxed a little when Arthur gave him a reassuring smile, and then grinned when Arthur clarified, “Condoms.”
“Mmm. Good idea,” Merlin agreed, giving himself a few tugs through his shorts. Arthur had to force himself to turn away to dig through the nightstand, and when he came back he threw the supplies beside Merlin before leaning down to suck kisses into his chest, trailing down the line of hair on his abdomen down to where the fabric began.
He pressed a kiss to the wing of Merlin’s dragon tattoo as he eased the shorts down, and then again to the head of Merlin’s cock once it sprang free.
“Don’t tease,” Merlin huffed, curling his fingers into Arthur’s hair, “Arthur.”
Arthur put a hand on each of Merlin’s thighs and spread them, pushing up until his knees were tucked against his chest. Merlin got the hint then, and eagerly held himself open as Arthur settled into position.
The first lick was light, just a test. The second was surer. On the third Arthur let himself linger, pressing his tongue to Merlin’s hole without really pushing. Merlin practically purred when Arthur finally thrust inside. The muscles of his thighs were tight with the strain of being in such an awkward position, but Arthur reveled in each tremble. He fucking loved rimming his partners, loved how it made them fall apart just to have his tongue. Merlin, especially, was gorgeous whenever he did this. He always started out with his hands behind his knees, keeping himself folded, but soon he’d begin whinging and he’d reach down to grab his arse cheeks, spreading himself wider and letting his toes curl against Arthur’s shoulders. Usually Arthur would take pity and reach up to stroke his cock whenever he got like this, but tonight he had other plans.
“Don’t fucking stop,” Merlin cried, staring down at Arthur with wild eyes as Arthur straightened. Arthur ignored him and crawled forward so his cock slid into the crease of Merlin’s thigh, and both of them moaned.
“Don’t want you to come yet,” Arthur told him as he reached for the lube.
Merlin moaned again when he saw what Arthur was doing, and pushed himself to lie on his belly, shoving a pillow under his hips.
Arthur didn’t dawdle opening him up. He went as quickly as he could without actually hurting Merlin before rolling on the condom and moving into position. Merlin’s eyes were closed, half his face hidden in pillows, and Arthur leaned down to suck on the lobe of his ear as he eased inside his hole. He couldn’t hold back his soft groan, but judging by the hitch in Merlin’s breathing, he didn’t care. Arthur gave him the barest moment to adjust before he started thrusting, just the merest roll of his hips until Merlin huffed in frustration and pushed back against him.
“I’m not a doll, Arthur, just fuck me,” Merlin panted, which melted into a moan when Arthur obeyed. The angle was awkward, though, so Arthur shifted so he was kneeling between Merlin’s splayed thighs, and fuck it was good. He was vaguely aware of Merlin moaning something into the pillow, but he was far too distracted by the sight of his cock pounding into Merlin’s arse to pay attention. Merlin didn’t seem to care. He rolled his hips back to meet each of Arthur’s, grinding his cock into the mattress for friction.
“Yes, yes,” Arthur heard Merlin moan, and he came with a hard shudder. Arthur slowed his thrusts, letting Merlin ride the aftershocks before leaning down and pressing his mouth against his shoulder blade.
“Alright?” he asked. He saw the small quirk of a smile on Merlin’s lips, followed by a short nod. “Can I still fuck you?”
Another nod. Arthur kissed his shoulder in thanks before he gave a small, experimental thrust. That only lasted a few moment, though, before he gave in and resumed the rhythm from before. He managed a few more thrusts before he felt the tightness in his belly, but the instant he felt Merlin squeeze around his cock he was gone, hips stuttering in orgasm.
He let himself fall forward to press along Merlin’s back for just a moment before rolling off to dispose of the condom. Merlin watched him with a lazy grin, kicking the stained pillow off of the bed and stretching like a cat. A very sated, happy cat. Arthur grinned at the thought.
“What?” Merlin asked him, sliding the leather cuffs off his wrists.
“Nothing,” Arthur replied. He threw his arm over Merlin’s waist to draw him closer. “Just thinking.”
“Sleep now. Think later,” Merlin mumbled, snuggling in closer to Arthur. Arthur chuckled, but made no comment and reached down to wrestle the duvet over them for the night.
---
It’s the sun that wakes Arthur up the next morning. He grumbles and squints and contemplates poking Merlin awake, but that idea disappears the instant he looks down and sees Merlin curled in sleep. He looks sweet and there’s still fucking glitter on his face where it hasn’t rubbed off on the pillow. Arthur carefully traces a finger over Merlin’s hand on the pillow, and he twitches, but doesn’t stir. Good, Arthur decides, he’ll have more time.
He slides carefully out of bed, keeping a watchful eye on Merlin. He doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror, just steps into his pants and walks towards the kitchen. Usually on competition nights, Merlin would go out for drinks with Gwen or Lance or whoever else was there. Arthur felt a little guilty about dragging him into bed after such a good performance, but he hoped this would make up for it.
There were thankfully eggs in the fridge, and bread for toast, and enough tea for an army. Bacon was a little harder, so Arthur had to make do with beans. He’d gathered his supplies and was working on the eggs when a stifled laugh came from the doorway, and he spun around to see Merlin watching him, hiding a grin behind his hand.
“You’re awake,” he said with a frown. Merlin sniggered.
“I am. And you’re cooking.”
“I was supposed to make you breakfast in bed,” Arthur pouted, feeling thoroughly put out. “It was going to be incredibly romantic.”
He got a ridiculously fond smile for that, and the sight of it almost made up for his ruined gesture. Almost.
“We can still have breakfast in bed. I’ll just have to help you carry it,” Merlin said, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Arthur’s waist. Arthur felt his irritation disappear, because Merlin was still warm from the bed and in his arms and yeah, that was good enough. He gave Merlin a quick squeeze and turned to finish off the eggs. When he turned around again, Merlin was still looking at him with an utterly idiot smile on his face.
“What?” he grumbled. “I’m just cooking. It’s not that unusual.”
Merlin laughed, and shook his head. He reached out and ran his finger over Arthur’s lips, his cheek, and down to his chest.
“You’ve got glitter,” he said, eyes crinkling with his smile, “everywhere.”
Arthur looked down, and sure enough, there was glitter splashed all across his chest, and when he raised his own hand and pressed it to his face, a few flakes fell. Merlin giggled at him, and Arthur couldn’t help but join in.
“You look ridiculous,” Merlin laughed.
“No more than you do.” Arthur shook his head, causing another rainfall of glitter. “How do we get this stuff off?”
“Hmm,” Merlin hummed and stepped forward to press himself to Arthur again. “Breakfast first, since you worked so hard on it. And then shower?”
“Together?”
Merlin smiled. “Absolutely.”
“Sold,” Arthur replied, and leaned forward to press a kiss to the tip of Merlin’s nose. It was ridiculous and all kinds of cheesy, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed when it brought another fond smile to Merlin’s face.
“I love you,” he said, easy as breathing, and Arthur felt his own smile widen.
“Of course you do, I make you breakfast,” he replied, and that was that, until much later, when the glitter had been thoroughly scrubbed off and lazy morning sex had led to an afternoon on the sofa, and Arthur pressed his own “I love you” into the skin of Merlin’s wrist.
Part 4