Chapter Text
The clearing was empty and Merlin zeroed in on a nearby tree to piss against while he looked around for Arthur. The sun was already quite high; it looked to be as late as mid-morning but he couldn’t be arsed going back to the tent to look for his phone to check the time.
The fire had long burned down to ashes, the discarded potato foils lying around it in a necklace of crumpled silver balls. Merlin's nose tingled with green freshness that sat at odds with his clammy body. His hands were sticky and he scratched at the flush creeping up his neck, remembering what he’d done with those hands, where he’d put them, sinking them in all the way, knuckle deep. Remembering Arthur’s gorgeous sounds.
“Christ,” he muttered, gritting his teeth on a wave of arousal and followed the summer frogsong to the water. Arthur couldn’t be far away and Merlin needed him, needed to see him, suddenly desperate to make sure everything was okay between them, that Arthur hadn’t snuck off upset with what they’d done. Upset with Merlin.
Carefully picking his barefoot way down to the river’s edge, Merlin stood with his toes digging into the sparse leaf-littered grass lining its bank. It was such a beautiful spot. He could appreciate it a little more now; yesterday he had been completely blind to anything but the sweet thrill of spending time alone with Arthur.
First things first: he might as well wash. Merlin shucked his tee shirt, then carefully eased his dirty feet through the legs of his shorts. He picked a way in between thick tufts of cattails and held their flat blades aside with his hands as he stepped into the morning-cold water, wincing at its unforgiving creep up his shins. Wading in, Merlin curled his feet around the slippery rocks lining the riverbed, arms out for balance. Muttering, "Shit, shit shiiiiiit," under his breath, he slowly got used to the frigid river, sucking air through his teeth as it speckled high up his legs, shocking his skin into goosebumps. A tiny fish flashed silver under the surface and brushed by his ankle, and he teetered in surprise, flailing out to keep upright.
"Try and stay on your feet, idiot," Arthur said and Merlin shielded his eyes with his hand to look up into the sunshine bursting through the trees above. Arthur had climbed a tree growing on the bank and now sat astride a branch which extended over the water. He’d spread a towel over it and his naked thighs lay relaxed on either side of it, feet dangling down. Merlin grinned big, his heart clamoring inside his chest.
The light sneaking in through breaks in the foliage gave Arthur a flickering glow, turning his hair into yellow fluff. Merlin’s stomach felt as though someone had taken a whisk to it, scrambling his nerve endings into a frenzy.
Merlin blinked away tears gathering in the wake of staring into the sun and looked down so Arthur wouldn’t see.
“You been in yet?”
“Mmhm,” Arthur said, and Merlin nodded, wading a little further in until the water skimmed the white of his thighs. His balls drew up in anticipation. It really was bloody cold, but in for a penny, in for a pound; he stopped moving and let the soft silt squeeze up between his toes, braced himself with a deep inhale and folded up for a sudden dunk. He came up laughing, blood singing and every inch of skin wide awake.
"Christ, it's fuckin' freezing!"
Arthur laughed. “I’ve been waiting for the sun to come over a bit more before I go back in for a proper swim.”
“Soft,” Merlin muttered, then shot a look up from under his lashes.
Between the water and sun in his eyes, he thought he saw Arthur grin, then plant a foot on the branch and launch off his perch, hitting the river in a bomb not far from where Merlin stood shivering in waist-deep water. Merlin shrieked, hands out to shield his face from the spray.
“Oh my god, you utter knob,” he shouted, then laughed as Arthur sputtered to the surface, wet hair stuck flat to his face. “Are you all right? It’s not deep enough for diving in, you’ll break your bloody neck!”
Arthur shook himself off like a wet dog and briskly rubbed his arms and chest, bringing blood to the surface in pink blotches. His nipples looked rock hard, the shadow between his legs indistinct under the water. Merlin sucked on his lip and made himself look away.
"Don't worry, big girls’ blouse, I know where it's safe. Been jumping off that tree for years," Arthur said, panting from the cold shock. But for all his words, he waded to the bank and found a soft spot of muddy flat where he stretched out on his stomach with the apple rounds of his arse barely sticking out of the water, dappled sunlight dancing on his back, feet floating pale on the light current.
Merlin stayed safely submerged up to his waist and washed himself. He dipped into the water again and again until he’d acclimatised to the temperature and his teeth stopped chattering. When he looked up, Arthur was eyeing him over the curve of his shoulder, face pillowed on his arms. And just like that, Merlin wasn’t cold anymore, not at all.
He waded to sit beside Arthur on the river’s edge, close enough to see the fine down on Arthur’s bum, moisture gathered in the dimples low on his back.
He propped himself up on an elbow and stretched out alongside Arthur’s long body, belly tingling deep inside. He touched Arthur’s back with his fingertips, drawing up, then down Arthur’s spine, pulling a wave of goosebumps in his wake and watching Arthur’s skin pebble. His groin gave a hot throb that left him breathless.
He drew his hand down, down, fingers skimming between Arthur’s cheeks, pinked from the water and sun, then watched Arthur open his legs for Merlin’s hand to fit between. He slid from the bank back into the river, then rode the water back up to rest between Arthur’s spread legs. He looked up to find Arthur still watching him over his shoulder. Merlin’s pulse thundered in his throat.
Arthur’s crack was a tantalising shadow, his balls lying beneath. Merlin leaned in and spread open Arthur’s cheeks between the fingers of one hand. Arthur’s hole clenched a little, exposed to fresh air.
“I like looking at you,” Merlin whispered. “I like inspecting you.”
Arthur’s breath stuttered. “Yeah?”
Merlin nodded, unable to look away from Arthur’s pink little hole. “I like examining you.”
Arthur groaned and squirmed down into the dirt.
“Lie still,” Merlin whispered, then blew warm breath on Arthur’s hole, watching it clench and kiss empty air. Arthur mashed his face into his arm.
Merlin swallowed dryly, knowing what he had to do, what he desperately needed to do. "Let me," he breathed, greedy for it, wanting so badly. “Let me, Arthur.” He leaned in, tucking his face between his spread fingers.
He had touched Arthur there only last night but he was still awestruck by it. Merlin nosed gently at Arthur’s rosy bottom, holding him open with his hand and marvelling at how smooth his skin was, how lightly haired compared to himself; he’d never get tired of noticing the differences. There was a small, yellowing bruise on Arthur’s lower back and tiny bits of river flotsam stuck to the round of his arse. Merlin nuzzled at him, getting closer and closer to the spot he desperately wanted to explore and Arthur held so still, as Merlin knew he would.
His first taste was a light press of lips to the soft flesh. Arthur’s glute muscles jumped, but he continued to hold still.
“That’s it, Arthur,” Merlin murmured into the dark, damp cleft, almost gutted with desire at acting out something he’d seen in a porn video, something that he’d thought weird and horrible about at first but had ended up watching over and over and never been able to stop thinking about. “Let me check you over. I’m just gonna check you over.”
Wedging himself in between Arthur’s legs, Merlin laid a series of closed-mouth kisses all around Arthur’s entrance, feeling the tension in Arthur’s body thrumming beneath him. His insides pretzelled up in conflict between terror at what Arthur would think and the blind need to devour Arthur’s arse.
His own quick breath felt heated in the hollow between his hand and face and the sparse growth on his chin rasped a little against Arthur’s soft skin as Merlin moved his jaw. Arthur shivered, and Merlin nuzzled at him, rubbing his chin over the fleshy mound of Arthur’s taint, testing him, greedy for each and every one of Arthur’s body’s responses.
Frogs croaked in the bushes, a breeze rustled through the cattails, and Merlin’s back soaked up sunlight as he crowded in close enough to place small, testing licks around Arthur’s hole. He closed his eyes and nestled his face right between the fan of his fingers and Arthur’s firm cheeks, finally, finally touching his little hole with the tip of his tongue.
They both sucked in a breath, Merlin’s insides clenching hotly. Arthur’s haunches vibrated with tension and his breath stuttered out in surprise. Merlin pulled back a little, waited a heartbeat watching Arthur’s shoulders rise and fall with quick breaths, then did it again.
When Arthur didn’t rear up and clock him, Merlin went back in, again and again with small, teasing licks and then longer, lavish ones, taking his sweet time until he was kissing Arthur’s hole, making out with it, forgetting to worry. He was so turned on he couldn’t think, wanting only to wedge his face between Arthur’s cheeks and stay there all day.
The river lapped at Arthur’s balls and Merlin collected some of the water on his tongue, licking it up over Arthur’s hole. Between Merlin’s hot tongue and the cool water Arthur panted and writhed and began to push back on Merlin’s face, snaking one hand under his body to touch himself - Merlin could see the cage of his fingers around his sac. He watched Arthur tug and pull at it, fascinated with finding out how Arthur did it to himself, what he liked, how he played with himself. Dipping back in, he mouthed wet tongue kisses all over Arthur's hole, rolling and pressing his tongue in a little, relishing Arthur's startled moans. It felt so dirty and wrong, and so fucking perfect.
Merlin was brutally hard. He dug his knees into the silt of the river’s edge, crouched over Arthur and spread him open with both hands so he could bury his face in him, nose shoved up hard against Arthur’s tailbone and tongue pressed against the fluttering muscle of his hole. Arthur grunted and opened his thighs wider. Merlin nibbled and flicked at his hole, bolder and more needy all at once. His chin bumped against Arthur’s knuckles and he sat up a little, letting Arthur get his knees under him so he could spread his legs wider, his entrance clenching at the open air.
“How- how do I look,” Arthur said, breathing so fast. “Tell me.”
“Looks so good, Arthur, you look so fucking good, I wanna eat you out so bad,” he said, cock throbbing heavily between his legs.
He couldn’t get enough of looking at it, how it glistened wet with his spit, pinked and puffy from the attention. Merlin’s tongue was tingling and his jaw ached and he fucking loved it.
“Need to take your temperature again,” Merlin said, Arthur whimpering and rolling his arse high, presenting himself.
Merlin groaned, hands clawed into the meat of Arthur’s arse, spreading him wide. He collected some saliva on his tongue, then let it drip down from his mouth to pool at Arthur’s hole.
“Fuck,” he whispered, rubbing it in with his finger. “Jesus fucking Christ.” His fingertip went in easy, Arthur’s hole softened with kisses. He let another fat bead of spit drip down over his finger and pressed in, in and in, both of them groaning at the breach. Merlin pumped slowly in and out, his own rigid cock forgotten while he focused completely on Arthur whose balls drew up tight even as his entrance loosened to accept another finger, more and more spit easing the way. Underneath, Arthur’s fingers creeped up to feel where Merlin’s fingers disappeared into his body.
“Oh my god,” Arthur said, his hand starting to move over his cock, elbow pumping in steady, measured pulls. Merlin matched his pace, spitting at Arthur’s hole to ease the way, the sound carrying up the river.
“Press down, can you— oooooh yeah, that’s, yeah, god, oh god,” Arthur moaned as Merlin hurried to follow instructions. He massaged down, patient and unrelenting until Arthur shouted, his arm stilling while his whole body bucked and curled in around his climax, his hole clamping down on Merlin’s fingers just as it had last night. Merlin couldn’t look away.
Slowly, Arthur slumped down, breathing heavy and hot into his own bicep, curled on his side and wincing a little as Merlin removed his fingers.
He sat back on his haunches, cock throbbing against his stomach but his attention only on Arthur, the scent of him, pressing his face into him, was unforgettable. Merlin smiled up into the sunshine, something settling good and proper in his gut, feeling so right. Everything was all right, and Arthur’s heaving breaths made him smile like mad. He had done that. Merlin couldn’t believe he had done that, and Arthur had let him. Arthur had loved it.
Whooping, he launched himself backwards into the river, back slapping through its calm surface, allowing it to claim him in its cool embrace, the squawking and flapping of startled birds carrying on the breeze along with Arthur’s laughter.
~ ✧ ~
“Did you fall asleep?” The sound of Arthur’s voice brought Merlin out of his light doze. Warmth licked at his body, the summer sun rendering his limbs heavy and boneless, bright orange haze pudding-thick under his eyelids. He hummed in response.
Arthur had jumped in after him earlier and they’d swum together, clambering up the tree and bombing each other from the overhanging branch, diving in the chest-deep water and pulling the legs out from under each other. Merlin’s arousal at getting Arthur off so spectacularly had given way to happiness at how free they could be with each other.
Merlin didn’t think he’d forget this as long as he lived. He wondered if he would look back on this time as his and Arthur’s halcyon days. The problem was that in order for that to happen, they had to end.
“This is, like, the best summer we’ve had,” Arthur mused. “Seriously best weather ever.”
A bee buzzed somewhere close but Merlin couldn’t even muster enough care to open his eyes. It really had been glorious, day after day of warm sunshine.
Something tickled the inside of his bicep and Merlin twitched, thinking to dislodge a pesky insect. When the tickling became the pressure of Arthur’s fingers skimming over his arm and up to his shoulder, Merlin smiled, brows gathering in consternation. “‘Arthurrrrrrr,” he whined. Arthur flattened his hand and the tickle became a caress, Arthur palming his bony chest, cupping it as though Merlin had pecs to cup. He flicked at Merlin’s nipple, pressing with his thumb, capturing it between his fingers and giving a light tug. Merlin’s breath caught on a rough exhale. He didn’t open his eyes, focused instead on what Arthur wanted him to feel.
“You spat on me before.”
Merlin nodded, sucking at his bottom lip, heat rising up his neck. “Sorry.”
“No. I liked it. It was kinda hot,” Arthur said quietly, rolling Merlin’s nipple into a hard nub, playing with the little garland of hair which grew around it. Merlin lay in a haze of sunshine and basked in Arthur’s attention, weightless and aroused. He was floating, trusting Arthur to make him feel good.
“I like all this hair,” Arthur said, and Merlin’s face burned red, knowing he liked the opposite in Arthur - how brightly coloured and softly furred he was, more like down than body hair. Their bodies were still changing. What would Arthur look like in five years? In ten? Would his shoulders gather slabs of muscle, powerful and solid? Merlin's dry lips parted, skin sticking.
Arthur passed his hand from one side of his chest to the other, the pads of his fingers pleasantly rough on Merlin’s nipples.
“Your turn for a check-up.”
Merlin licked his lips.
Arthur’s hand travelled down and down, tracing the grooves of his ribs and playfully pinching at the tufts of dark hair on Merlin’s belly, following it lower, all the way to the root of Merlin’s cock, thickening against the groove of his hip.
He slid his fingers through the dark nest there with a pleased hum.
“Does it hurt here?” Arthur scratched his fingertips through Merlin’s pubes, then tugged, and released. Tugged and released. Merlin’s lips twitched in the ghost of a smile, loving the attention as much as the delicious agony of waiting, and feeling very seen. Very noticed. Pleasure poured through his body like hot honey.
“No,” he said, trying to breathe steadily and lie very still, and be a good boy.
“How about here?” Arthur’s hand continued its journey south until he had a handful of Merlin’s sac, giving it a gentle squeeze, lifting it in his hand. Weighing it.
Merlin’s belly ached sweetly, spiking with heat. “No, Doctor.”
He hadn’t planned to say it, but there was no time to feel embarrassed when Arthur groaned and gently headbutted his shoulder, rolling Merlin’s balls in his wide hand. He fondled them for a long while, Merlin’s cock coming well awake and stiffening by degrees to curve up towards his stomach. Arthur breathed into his neck and played with his sac, eventually leaving it to lie heavy and full between his thighs.
“Here?” Arthur closed his fingers around the base of Merlin’s cock, squeezing a little. Merlin shook his head. Arthur’s hand was warm and firm around him.
“Cough.”
Heat burned high on Merlin’s face as he turned away and coughed, his cock jumping in Arthur’s hand.
“Again.”
Merlin did as he was told, tendrils of want uncoiling inside him. Arthur fisted his cock, rubbing his thumb along the prominent vein, breath hot on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin moaned and tried to hold on, squeezing his eyes shut.
Arthur shifted beside him and in a quick move, straddled and seated himself across Merlin’s thighs, immobilising his legs. His hand on Merlin’s cock did not ease up.
“Merlin. Hey. Watch me,” Arthur said, and Merlin slowly opened his eyes, blood thundering in his ears, feeling too hot, too big for his own skin. He blinked the sun from his eyes just as Arthur bent over his cock, pursing his mouth and letting a clear thread of saliva string down to land on Merlin’s cockhead.
“Oh god,” Merlin moaned, balls tightening as Arthur began to stroke him, slow and easy, spreading his spit all over Merlin’s cock, slicking it up, making it glisten.
“Keep watching,” Arthur murmured, then nestled a little lower. He bent his head and Merlin’s heart pounded furiously, his brows drawing together.
Looking up through the drying curtain of his yellow fringe, checking that Merlin was looking at him, Arthur opened his mouth and swiped a light kitten lick on the underside of Merlin’s cock.
“Jeeeeeesus,” Merlin whined, arching under Arthur’s outstretched hand, lifting his head to watch Arthur’s parted lips hover over him, so, so close.
Arthur tugged his foreskin up and used it to spread moisture all over Merlin’s cockhead until it was slick and shiny, dark with blood, then drew it up taut and dipped the very tip of his tongue into the little purse of skin squeezed between his fingers. Merlin watched, breathless, already on the edge. Arthur glanced up as he let the skin retract, then slowly, softly, enfolded the purple head of Merlin’s cock between his lips.
The heat of Arthur’s firm, wet suck was a shock. Merlin bucked helplessly, anchored firmly under Arthur’s solid weight, reeling at Arthur’s tongue flexing, massaging Merlin, cradling him inside his mouth.
“Holy fuck, Arthur, oh my holy fucking shit.” Merlin’s mouth ran without input from his brain. Arthur tasted his cock, circling his tongue over it, slurping at it like an ice lolly. He didn’t seem to worry about the crazy noises he was making, popping Merlin’s dick out of the O of his lips, then tonguing the slit with a moan, rubbing it over his cheek as he licked up and down the shaft following the veins.
Merlin had never heard nor seen anything hotter in all his life than Arthur enjoying giving him head. Because there was no doubt Arthur liked giving head. Arthur liked sucking dick. Merlin thought his head might explode.
His fingers twitched and dug down into the grass, scrunching big clumps in his hands as Arthur experimented with kissing his cock, sucking and applying different kinds of pressure, licking him shallow and quick, then sheathing him in his hot mouth until Merlin was seeing stars.
Arthur seemed fascinated with his cock, tightening his fist around the shaft, squeezing it slowly through his fist and watching driblets of clear fluid seep from the tip, then licking them off, one by one. He grasped it tight at the thick root, pushing it around like a joystick. Merlin huffed a laugh and Arthur grinned up at him, his red mouth stretched over Merlin’s shaft.
Merlin lost track of time, trying desperately to give Arthur everything he wanted, and hold off his orgasm until Arthur was done with him, but the edge was real close, coiled tightly deep in his belly. Merlin panted with exertion.
His head thudded backwards on the grass as Arthur finally decided to suck him right in, lips tight under the head. He bobbed up and down holding it steady in the grip of his hand.
He sucked and moaned and that was it, Merlin was gone. He barely managed to reach out to grip Arthur’s forearm and gasp out a warning before he was pulsing thick ropes of come all over himself, catching Arthur’s mouth and cheek with it, leaving him dripping.
There was a moment of stunned silence as they stared at each other over the red and swollen head of Merlin’s cock, still throbbing in the grip of Arthur’s hand.
A glob of come slid off Arthur’s face and splattered on Merlin’s belly.
They burst into peals of laughter and sagged against each other, until Arthur - incensed with Merlin’s giggled, “Your face, Arthur, you should see your—,” scooped come into his palm and rubbed it on Merlin’s face wedding cake style. Merlin was laughing too hard to care.
They chased each other around the clearing, then jumped back into the water, hooting and splashing. They took turns hurling themselves off the branch like maniacs, pretending not to notice the well-worn path of the sun over blue, blue sky, mirroring the path back to the house.
~ ✧ ~
Arthur packed the tent with stark efficiency. Merlin watched his hands fly over poles and plackets, smoothing and folding the thing like he’d done it a million times. Maybe he had. Maybe he’d come here to camp with other friends. Maybe with a girlfriend. Merlin fought the urge to fidget and just stood back to let Arthur get on with it.
He had it folded and snugly strapped down in its waterproof sheath in no time at all, and soon, too soon, they were on their way with sleeping bags affixed to their rucksacks, looking for all intents and purposes like a couple of hikers.
Their hands brushed once, twice by accident. The third was deliberate. Arthur reached for Merlin's fingers and twining them loosely together. Merlin lifted his face to the sun and felt it warm his smile. Then he tripped.
"Watch your feet, dork." Arthur's rebuke held no heat as he tightened his grip and yanked on Merlin's hand to help him right himself. He didn't let go.
Merlin had no words for the feeling, big and heavy in his chest, threatening to choke him. All he could do to take the edge off it was to smile and smile.
He grasped Arthur's hand just as surely in return and they shared their sweaty, weird grip as they left the river behind but it was so new and exciting that neither pushed to let go. Merlin tried to match Arthur's steps so his hand wouldn't pull their stride out of sync. They walked through all the familiar fields and along the well-worn paths until Arthur's house loomed ahead, ever the sentinel. Merlin’s grip was slippery and sort of gross but Arthur didn’t let go, tugging Merlin up to the house with him and that was so okay too.
They walked down a poplar-lined alley to the gate still sweaty in each other’s grip. As they got close enough to the mansion to wear its shadow, crunching gravel under the soles of their shoes all the way to the grand entrance, Merlin was so wrapped up in Arthur’s presence that he didn’t notice Morgana quietly standing by a car outside until they were literally in front of her, still holding hands.
“Hey, guys,” she said, tossing a messenger bag into the back. There was a blonde in the driver’s seat, her lips curled lazily around a cigarette, knowing eyes undoubtedly having watched their progress up the length of the driveway.
Startled, Merlin let go of Arthur’s hand, heat crawling up his neck.
The woman’s mouth twitched in amusement. Beside him, Arthur pretended he hadn’t noticed, and he’d have been successful except for the stiffness of his stance, his hurt little smile.
“Hey, Morg. Need any help?”
“No, it’s fine. Wasn’t sure when you’d be back so I had Geoffrey plate up some leftovers, they’re in the fridge. I’m out for a bit so call me if you need anything but I should be back tonight. Then we can clean up properly tomorrow once the tents have been dismantled, yeah?”
“No worries,” Arthur said easily, already turning towards the door. “See you later.”
Merlin didn’t know what to do with his suddenly empty, sweaty hand. It hung by his side like it didn’t belong to him. He turned and followed Arthur into the mansion with anxiety coiling in his stomach like a sickness, but when he went inside Arthur was already gone, his footsteps echoing up the empty hallway.
When he got to Arthur’s room, the door was closed. He stood in front of it like an idiot, not sure whether to knock or just turn right around and run away, when the door swung open. Arthur brushed past him, a handful of towels in his hands. Merlin had no choice but to follow him to what ended up being the guest bedroom down the hall.
“Shout out if you need anything. I’m gonna shower and then head down to the kitchen to fossick out those leftovers, so see you down there.”
“Arthur, please, I—”
“Don’t worry, I get it, it’s fine. See you downstairs.”
Merlin watched him until he disappeared into his own room, the door closing sharply behind him.
Not knowing what else to do, Merlin went into the bathroom. His hands were shaking, the phantom of Arthur’s grip clammy between his fingers.
The bathroom door clicked shut behind him and Merlin leaned against it, hot shoulders to cool wood. The silence was a thunderclap, uncomfortably close after everything he'd shared with Arthur. It was awful. He swallowed down the hot lump of misery in his throat and reached for his phone, heart racing as he dialled.
It took Hunith several rings to pick up. "How was your night, darling?"
Merlin could hear crockery clanging together, slopping around in dishwater. Merlin closed his eyes and tried to breathe evenly. He could see her, her lavender motif apron neatly tied, wisps of runaway hair falling into her eyes. For a long moment, he couldn’t speak.
“Merlin? Merlin. What’s the matt—”
“I’m gay, Mum,” he blurted, heart hammering wildly in his chest. Something hot had lodged in his throat and he couldn’t swallow around it, couldn’t push it down.
“Okay,” Hunith said, the dishwashing sounds falling abruptly silent. There was no taking it back now. It was done. Merlin began to tremble.
The words he wanted to say twisted into nonsensical curlicues in his mouth and the silence was broken only by his own blood rushing past his ears. He huffed a desperate sound trying to be a laugh. Okay. She’d said okay like he’d just announced he had black hair. Like he’d said it was Tuesday.
“Are you all right? You sound upset. Do you need me to pick you up?” Her tone was quietly cautious. In that moment, Merlin loved his mother so fiercely, his heart hurt with it. Something broke free inside him because no matter what happened now, Merlin had told her. The hardest part was done and he'd put a delicate piece of himself into her hands. Surely there was no safer place for it.
The phone was hurting his hand. It took a moment to realise it was because he was clutching it in a deathgrip. What was meant to be a deep breath came out like a sob.
“Has something happened? Merlin, do you want me to come and get you?” Hunith’s voice had taken on a distinctly dangerous edge and Merlin felt an urge to defend Arthur in case she got the wrong idea.
“I’m okay. I just really had to tell you. Right now.”
She huffed, and he could picture her smiling, wiping her hands on her apron, wet hands turning the sprigs of lavender dark.
Merlin let his head fall back, thudding on the door. "How long have you known?"
Hunith's hum was noncommittal. “Do you remember, when you were about eleven, you were invited to Elena’s party? You were so excited.”
Merlin closed his eyes. He still remembered the cocktail of fear and thrill he’d felt at receiving the unexpected invitation.
All he had known of the Gawants was that they had a massive pool, the glare of which threw enticing reflections that danced in blue and white shadows on the side of their enormous house above the level of the security fence, a tennis court - either that or a surplus of tennis balls which regularly ended up over said security fence - and Elena, an only child usually away at boarding school, whom Merlin had never met prior to receiving the invitation.
Hunith had driven him to the party, both of them in their nicest clothes. Merlin had felt like an interloper for approximately two minutes, or as long as it had taken a blond force of nature to find him and drag him into a game of hide-and-go-seek well in progress out in the gardens. Arthur had introduced him to Elena and all the posh kids as his best friend, and Merlin had felt so special.
“I remember,” Merlin whispered. Arthur had been wearing a red polo shirt that day. Merlin still remembered how the collar had stood up, making Arthur look so cool and mature. “Arthur made Elena invite me.”
Hunith laughed. “There was a DJ and pony rides.”
“What? I don’t remember that!” Merlin frowned. “Pony rides? Really?”
“I’m not surprised you don’t. You and Arthur were too busy following each other around all day to pay attention to anyone else. The way you look at him Merlin. That hasn’t changed.”
Merlin’s face fell, and hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He wondered whom he’d thought he’d been fooling all this time.
Merlin let the tears come, in relief and in longing for the safety of her arms. His breath hitched and Hunith cooed down the line at him until he giggle-sobbed at her dusting off her old horse whisperer technique, calming him like she used to when he got upset as a child. There was a smile in her tone as he pulled himself together.
She stayed with him until he calmed, and allowed him a few moments to compose himself. She’d put him on speaker - he listened to the swish of teatowel over plates and cups, the quiet sounds of her hands working. The sun would have already gone over by now, and she’d be standing in shadow, looking out at their little back yard and the veggie patch he’d helped her dig in when they moved.
“I was scared of telling you,” he said, voice raspy and thick. “I didn't want to worry you. I didn't want you to be upset or—"
"Don't you dare, Merlin," she interrupted, blunt and hurt, and he bit off the nervous flood of words. “Don't you dare say that you thought I wouldn’t support you. That I’d love you any less.”
"No! It wasn’t like that. Um. Yes, but not exactly. I just.”
"You thought I'd be upset that you're gay?"
He took a deep breath to focus his thoughts. He’d never given these feelings the time to formalise into words before. He wasn’t sure he understood them himself. It took a while to get it straight in his head, and Merlin was grateful that Hunith stayed silent, letting him sort through it.
“It’s not that I thought you’d be upset that I am. Gay, I mean.” Deep breaths. It was okay. He could say it. He had already said it and everything was okay. Merlin huffed a choked-off laugh and tried again.
“It’s just that everything was happening at the same time, you know? Freya, school . . . and then Uncle Gaius got sick, and with the move and everything . . . and you already had so much on your plate with work and the move and—"
"The only reason I'm upset now is that you thought you couldn't tell me, that you thought you had something to worry about, something to hide. From me, of all people, Merlin Emrys."
"I'm sorry, Mum," he said, voice breaking again, choking on it. He tried to swallow the hot lump in his throat, the uncertainty leaking out of him, taking all the weight on his shoulders with it.
Hunith sighed. "Oh, Merlin. Has something happened? Tell me. Tell me why you’re so upset, really."
"I like Arthur," he said, hiccuping around the words, because even though it was the truth, it wasn’t really. He’d almost said love. In love. Merlin was in love. The heat in his chest spread out to the tips of his fingers and pooled inside him like a deep well.
"And how does Arthur feel?" Hunith's tone was cautious, not wanting to upset him further. Oh, how he loved her. Merlin couldn't for the life of him think why he'd kept this from her. Of course she wouldn't care. Of course she'd think of him first. She always had.
"I think he likes me back. But I just did something dumb and now he's upset. I don't know how to make it better." Merlin let his head thunk back on the wall again, wiping his face with the hem of his tee shirt.
"I think you know."
"But I don't."
Hunith hummed and Merlin rolled his eyes with a grin even though it made his headache worse. He pressed the heel of his palm to his temple.
"You'll work it out."
Merlin sighed. "I guess I'll go talk to him."
"Look at you, thinking for yourself. How grown up."
Merlin huffed a soundless laugh, wiping at his face, nose stuffy and thick. He was a horrible cryer, looking swollen and red like he’d been punched in the nose. Great. Arthur would just bloody love that. "Thanks Mum."
“Call me if you want picking up, Merlin,” she said, and he could picture her wagging her finger at the phone lying on the kitchen table, that serious look on her face which meant no further nonsense would be tolerated.
He looked at the phone in his hand for a while after she'd hung up, then set it down on the closed toilet lid, peeled his dirty clothes off and got in the shower.
~ ✧ ~
Merlin had never noticed the beautiful hallway runner before, its deep scarlet weave interspersed with fanciful plants and animals, like pictures in an ancient bestiary. Maybe that was because he had never had the pleasure of walking on it with bare feet.
A sliver of light seeped out from beneath Arthur’s door and lit up the runner’s edge along with the tips of Merlin’s toes. Was it new or had it always been there? Merlin couldn’t recall ever having really looked at it before.
Like everything else in Uther’s grand house, it was of a quality few could afford. Merlin ought to feel guilty for standing on it, grinding his heels in and scratching his toes over it, but all he felt was grim determination. Stop stalling. He nodded to himself, took a deep breath and knocked.
There was no answer.
Perhaps Arthur hadn’t heard him. Maybe he was still in the shower. Merlin knocked again, harder this time, the rap of his knuckles on wood casting a stark echo into Arthur’s silent bedroom.
He probably wasn’t even there. Arthur was probably downstairs, putting as much distance between himself and the awkwardness Merlin had created as he could. Stuffing his face, most likely. Or maybe there was no awkwardness, Maybe Merlin had imagined it.
Knowing he shouldn’t and quite sure he was doing it anyway, Merlin curled his fingers around the metal handle and pushed Arthur’s door open.
The day had aged while Merlin had been busy melting down on the phone and then showering; Arthur’s room lay bathed in the warm shadows of afternoon. In the wake of receding sun, it felt as though the summer was sticking to everything: the dust mites trapped in streaks of light, the curtain fluttering weakly in the breathy breeze, its hem snagged on a splinter in the window frame.
The drone of bees carried in from the orchard and in the midst of it all, Arthur sat on the edge of his bed, elbows braced on his knees with his headphones on, hands hanging loose between his legs. His hair was wet, dark and curling at the nape.
Angled away from Merlin, Arthur’s back was smooth and broad, the wings of his shoulder blades underlined with shadow, and Merlin’s gut dipped with the memory of that same back arched.
Now, Arthur looked just plain lost and Merlin’s heart gave an uncomfortable squeeze around a hard kernel of regret. He stepped closer until his ears picked up on tinny percussion from whatever Arthur was listening to. A bead of water slipped down the back of Arthur’s neck, then another. Merlin watched them slide over Arthur’s tanned skin, the distance between he and Arthur made even more unbearable by Arthur sitting within arm’s reach, and yet completely untouchable.
Merlin reached out, aiming to brush Arthur’s shoulder with the tip of his fingers, but before he could, Arthur lurched up as though he had finally sensed him in the room. Whatever his face had been doing when he was turned away, he quickly schooled it, giving Merlin the shortest of glances. Pulling his headphones out of his phone, Arthur silenced it and shoved it into the pocket of his shorts.
“Oh good, you’re done. Well, let’s go eat, I’m starving,” he said, and made to move around Merlin, both of them caught in the awkward dance of trying to get out of each other’s way and managing the exact opposite. Arthur pulled up short and huffed in annoyance. He wouldn’t look Merlin in the eye; something Merlin hadn’t realised was deliberate until that moment. A pang of cold fear crawled up his spine.
“Arthur, please,” he choked out, but Arthur looked away, side-shouldering his way past Merlin towards the door, and Merlin couldn’t let him go, not without telling him, explaining. Not without confessing. He shot forward and managed to slip between Arthur and the door. Capitalising on this small win, he pushed off the door and with his hands braced on Arthur’s chest, crowded him against the wall.
“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice carried a tone of warning.
“I just want to say something.” Merlin searched Arthur’s face, but it was locked down, mouth stern and eyes flinty in the darkened, stifling room. Merlin could hardly draw a proper breath. He licked his lips, something fizzing to strike a flame inside him as Arthur tracked the movement.
“I didn’t know it could be like that,” he said, searching for the right words, the ones that would strike home and smooth the crease between Arthur’s brows and unlock his frown into the soft smile he’d been wearing just an hour ago. “I didn’t even understand about myself before last night. I’ve never told anyone that stuff before, I didn’t know, Arthur. I mean, I knew, but . . .”
Arthur was looking at him now, wary and still angry, still silent, but listening in any case. That had to count for something, so Merlin steeled his resolve and ploughed on ahead. Now or never, it seemed.
“And maybe I wasn’t sure about me, about liking blokes and stuff. But you have to know I’ve always been sure about you.” Merlin edged closer, softly, softly against Arthur's forbidding stillness. "Even when you weren’t around, you were all I could think about, even when I was trying not to think about you because I missed you so much I wanted to cry into my pillow like a baby every night.”
Merlin came in close enough to catch the scent of Arthur's soap, all the places where they weren’t touching suddenly awake and buzzing for contact.
“I didn’t even dream you might feel like that too. I kind of thought I had to hide it, and then I come back, and you’re just. You’re you, but even better than I remembered, taller and bigger, and more gor—”
Merlin swallowed and broke eye contact. He looked down at the hollow of Arthur’s throat, at his pulse beating there, steady and strong. Merlin’s mouth was suddenly so dry he could barely speak.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Arthur’s breath fanned over his cheek.
“I thought it was just playing, like we used to, except with the bonus of. You know.”
“Making each other come,” Arthur finished helpfully, his voice like a velvet train knocking Merlin’s knees out from under him.
“Yeah,” he said weakly, the bottom of his stomach freefalling. He pressed in close until their chests were touching, Arthur’s breath moist in the crook of his neck and all his words had fled like those startled birds at the river. Merlin leaned in, lips parting, eyes locked on Arthur’s red mouth. Arthur’s hands tight at his waist, his own bracketing Arthur against the wall.
Arthur’s skin radiated heat like the summer lived inside him and seeped out of his pores, and that was nothing new at all but now … well. Merlin wallowed in it, his eyes closed, rubbing the tip of his nose against Arthur’s, drawing out that in-between moment the way they both loved and were so very good at together.
Merlin finally pressed his mouth in a not-quite kiss to the apple of Arthur’s cheek, inching his way down, skin catching on skin until his mouth hovered above Arthur’s in a silent question. He had stopped breathing. Nothing existed beyond the glistening pink inside of Arthur’s mouth, the delicate fuzz over his lip.
“That’s not all, for me,” Arthur said.
“Me too,” Merlin whispered, and the distance between them dissolved as he closed his eyes.
Slowly, he tilted his head until their lips were touching, dry and chaste in small, barely-there testing kisses and for a little while that’s all it was, just the thrill of touching lips for the first time, like they’d invented it that very moment, like nobody had ever felt like this before them.
Arthur’s hands dug right in at Merlin’s waist. Merlin thought his hands might be shaking. This was really happening, no games, only the two of them holding each other close, and then Arthur dipped in to catch Merlin’s bottom lip and touch it with the tip of his tongue, letting him feel the softness of it, and Merlin was gone.
Kissing Arthur was a swarm of butterflies stirring up from his belly in a great messy flourish. It was a brush of lips against each other then a slow roll of tongues, then pressing their mouths together hard, moves that echoed down at the hips, gentle one moment, steeped with intent the next. Merlin didn’t even know it could be like that, that anything so simple as a kiss could feel this good, could make his whole body burn. He groaned and Arthur nibbled the sound right out of his mouth in greedy little nips of his mouth.
There were so many ways to kiss. Arthur’s lips were so soft; Merlin pressed in to feel the hint of hardness beyond their gentle kissing, the ridge of Arthur’s teeth. And he hadn’t meant to say it, wasn’t even thinking it until it was there, bubbling right up out of his mouth and into Arthur’s.
“I’m in love with you,” he said, breathing the words more than saying them, pulling back to look at Arthur in the still moment which followed. Arthur’s eyes were shocked and wide, something like pain moving across his brow. Merlin sobered, swallowed hard, vulnerable underbelly exposed. He couldn’t stop himself from saying it again, making sure it was real, that it couldn’t be taken back or written off. “I fucking love you.”
Arthur’s eyes roamed all over Merlin’s face, from his eyes to his mouth, and up to the flick of hair stuck to his sweaty temple then back again. He looked bewildered, and Merlin’s throat closed up thinking, oh no, but then Arthur fisted his tee shirt.
“You’re so stupid,” he said, grinning in that pained, earnest way of his, and Merlin wanted to cry with relief even as his face followed Arthur’s lead so they could rub their smiles against each other, until Arthur pulled him in tight and held him and kissed him, and kissed him.
Merlin couldn’t get close enough. He couldn’t think anymore, it was so much to process, to understand, and they’d set a fire now, turning everything hungry and hot and immediate. Arthur’s warm body smelled so good, soap and talc hot and fragrant on flushed skin.
Merlin cupped Arthur's shoulders, then let his hands slide down to rub and squeeze and feel the muscle twist and cord under his skin. Arthur groaned, and yeah, fuck yes, this was good, this was all right, being allowed to touch like this. Not a game anymore. Merlin cupped Arthur’s head and kissed him until his lips were tingling and his chin was wet, and touched as much of him as he could, touched Arthur everywhere his hands could reach.
They pushed and pulled at each other until the back of Merlin’s knees hit the edge of the bed and they went over in a tangle. Arthur manhandled him higher onto the pillows and pushed Merlin’s tee shirt up high and his shorts half off, underwear sticking awkwardly on the tent of his growing erection.
“Take this off, take it- Merlin,” Arthur whined, and Merlin shucked his tee shirt and then shorts and pants off so fast he heard something rip. He fell back and watched Arthur strip too, eyes round and breath coming fast. Arthur didn’t take his eyes off him, stripping efficiently down to his skin then dropping down to cover Merlin’s body with his own. He was heavy and hot and sticky with sweat. Merlin breathed him in, stuffing his nose into the damp hair at Arthur’s temple, holding Arthur close.
It was all happening so fast and at the same time not fast enough, both of them panting and grasping at each other, desperate for heat and friction and some kind of release. Merlin worked his hips a little, rubbing himself against Arthur’s firm belly, spreading his own slick on it, so incredibly turned on. And then they were kissing again, slow and thick and deep, Arthur’s tongue setting a rhythm that Merlin’s whole body wanted to follow.
Arthur kissed his face all over and Merlin writhed and flexed just to feel Arthur’s big body press him down into the bed. Merlin sank his teeth into Arthur’s neck a little, nuzzled him and licked his salty skin. Arthur shuddered in his arms.
“You like that? Huh?” Merlin said, dragging his mouth on Arthur’s neck, not recognising his own voice for the roughness in it.
Arthur gasped quietly, said, “Do you ever shut your fucking trap,” and rolled his head to the side, exposing the glistening stretch of his throat in the low light. Merlin groaned and mouthed, “No,” into Arthur’s neck, then latched on and began to nibble and suck.
Arthur held him close, fingers twisted into Merlin's hair. He pulled Merlin in and held him there right against his neck, the heat of his panted breath raising goosebumps all over Merlin’s body.
When Merlin came away to look, the blood he’d sucked to the surface made a tattered red bruise bloom at the base of Arthur’s throat. Arthur looked at him with glassy eyes and pulled him into a kiss so needy and wet, Merlin’s toes curled into the bedding. Arthur rolled them and they both gasped when Arthur opened his legs, letting Merlin settle his weight between them, nestling down in the cradle of Arthur’s hips, kissing again, always kissing. Merlin thought he might never stop now, never look at Arthur’s face, at his mouth again without thinking of this, wanting this.
It was nothing like before, nothing like the calculated, slow torture they'd practiced on each other, taken turns with. This was scrabbling hands, huffs and whispers, and Arthur on top once again, Merlin’s heart so full he thought he’d drown. Their naked cocks were touching, the rub of skin on skin making Merlin delirious, too hard sometimes, a little dry, but he didn’t care, couldn’t stop. Arthur licked his mouth and rolled his tongue alongside Merlin’s, and god, they were making a mess of each other, unpracticed and uncoordinated and it was still better than anything Merlin had imagined, just the nearness, the closeness of hot skin and the weight of a body, Arthur’s body, skin to skin, nipples rubbing along Merlin’s ribcage.
They kissed and groped each other all over Arthur’s bed and somehow Merlin ended up draped over Arthur's back, kissing his sunburned shoulders and breathing hard into his neck, nose pressed into Arthur’s damp hair, following the shadow cast by the curtain moving with the evening breeze. He rolled his hips and his cock slid down from where he'd been rutting it into the meat of Arthur's arse until suddenly it was nestled between Arthur's thighs, tucked in tight behind his balls, and it was the best thing, the greatest thing.
They both froze, Merlin's breath stuttering. Arthur fisted the bedding and looked over his shoulder, eyes heavy and wrecked. “Don’t stop,” he whispered, and Merlin moaned, fucking up into the tight little space between Arthur’s muscle-thick thighs, his cock skidding along hot, sweaty skin.
He heard a click, and when he looked up, Arthur was uncapping a white tube. Merlin had no idea where Arthur had even gotten it from, had it been under his pillow? Before he could ask, Arthur had squeezed some into his palm, too much of it along with a curse muttered into the sheets, lifted his leg and rubbed it up between his thighs and all the way up Merlin’s cock.
“Holy fucking shit.” Merlin breathed. Arthur wrapped his slippery hand around Merlin’s dick and gave it a couple of long, slowly twisting pulls before lowering his leg again and flexing, tightening the gap, and Merlin sobbed, mouth jammed against Arthur’s shoulder blade. “Stopstopstop you have to- Arthur, oh god,” Merlin babbled, trying so hard not to come.
“Come on,” Arthur whispered after a moment, rolling his hips back, and Merlin couldn’t not, he had to, and so he did, wrapping his arm around Arthur’s middle and driving his cock up to nudge Arthur’s balls, fucking him in between his legs.
He tried to go slow, mouthing along the muscle of Arthur’s shoulder and holding him tight around the ribs, letting the tang of sex in the dark room turn him inside out. He pulled right back and slipped between Arthur’s thighs and it was so good, so incredibly, searingly good that at first Arthur’s shocked little gasp didn’t quite register, until it did, and Merlin stilled with the head of his cock somehow almost all the way inside Arthur’s hole.
“Oh god, sorry, oh god,” he muttered into the back of Arthur’s neck, mortification spreading hot to the tips of his ears. He started to pull away but Arthur’s hand shot out, fingers sinking hard into Merlin’s thigh.
“Don’t,” Arthur said, holding him tight. “Don’t you fucking move.”
Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and counted to -something. He had no fucking idea. His mind was blank, the hot, tight pressure around the head of his cock making him lightheaded, making him break out in a cold, desperate sweat. For a long moment, Arthur didn’t move at all, and then his whole body seemed to shudder away a layer of tension, and he nudged back a little, just enough for the muscle in his thigh to flex, and for Merlin to feel a little slippery friction on his cock. He couldn’t help the needy little moan which escaped, hiding his face in the dip between Arthur’s shoulder blades.
“Just the. Oh fuck, fuck, Merlin, just the tip, it’s okay,” Arthur whispered and pushed back a little more. Merlin thought he might die.
Arthur rocked a little, testing. His hand still gripped Merlin’s leg. Merlin kissed his shoulders, his neck, feeling the choking pressure on his dick give a little. Beneath him, Arthur whined and pushed back a little more, and it was unmistakable then, the moment that the head of Merlin’s dick slipped through a barrier of muscle and lodged properly inside. Merlin groaned, dirty and low, every muscle tensed against the need to thrust. His arms were shaking from the effort of holding himself still.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, panting into his pillow, his jaw tense and his neck flushed dark with blood.
“Uh-huh?” Merlin smeared his mouth along Arthur’s nape, just breathing, just trying to breathe and nothing else, nothing that would hurt Arthur or make him want to stop. Blood pulsed in his fingertips, in his balls.
“Here, more,” Arthur gasped, reduced to monosyllabic essentials, and Merlin looked up to see Arthur pushing the white tube at him. Arthur’s hand was shaking. Merlin swallowed hard and grabbed the tube.
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh, come on,” Arthur panted, squeezing Merlin’s leg, and fuck. Yeah. Okay. He could do this, and they were doing this. Arthur wanted this.
Merlin couldn’t see worth shit in the dusk, night already crawling all over Arthur’s walls. He took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to concentrate on what Arthur wanted him to do. Uncapping the tube was okay but when he tried to pour out some lube, it spurted all over his hand. He didn’t fucking care, just trapped the lube in his fist and tossed the tube aside, too far gone to think. He pulled away a little, just enough to touch himself and rub the slick all over his shaft. He was so horribly aroused, his cock so rock hard that even touching it this gently felt like too much, too close to losing it.
Arthur shuddered beneath him and Merlin nosed and licked at his neck. He let his fingertips explore along Arthur’s rim and where it’d stretched around Merlin’s cock, and fucking Christ, Arthur was stuffed full. Merlin’s dick was hard as nails and he shouldn’t have been able to fit in there but somehow, God, somehow he did, he was in, and he had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from fucking his whole length into that tight heat.
He nuzzled behind Arthur’s ear, rubbed along the taut stretch of skin as he squeezed his fist, dribbing runny lube into the crease of Arthur’s arse, pushing it around with his fingers and they both groaned. Arthur’s body was tense and still adjusting to the intrusion, squeezing around him. Merlin took a deep breath and waited, trembling.
“Okay, let me just,” Arthur said and carefully lowered himself back down to the bed, tucking his hands up under his pillow to grab at the slat of headboard, spreading his legs a little more, knees caught in the drag of snarled sheets. Merlin settled, carefully cushioning his pelvis on the muscled rounds of Arthur’s arse. He was inside Arthur. Fuck, he was in-
“Feels amazing,” he muttered into the flushed skin behind Arthur’s ear, and maybe it was that - just the idea that what they were doing was no longer just an awkward slip in the dark but that it could feel this good, was supposed to feel good with someone you liked. Merlin rolled his hips and Arthur was moving too, pushing himself back onto Merlin’s dick, groaning filthy and low as he took more of Merlin inside. And then they weren’t just managing through an embarrassing accident, they were fucking, really moving together with a purpose, slow at first, warmed-up honey slow.
Arthur hung on to him, clutching at his thigh and pulling him in deeper. Merlin groaned and slid his arms under Arthur, wound them tight around Arthur’s chest and fucked up into him in one long stroke. Arthur gasped wetly into his arm, and Christ, the sounds he made, the needy little sounds. Merlin shut his eyes tight, tight, mouthing at Arthur's neck.
"Yeah? Arthur? Are you-"
"Yeah," Arthur said, voice breaking, wrecked, words dissolving into a moan when Merlin pulled back and slid in again, slow and shivery, chest sticking to Arthur's back. He couldn't think, and when Arthur pulled one leg up and gave himself some traction to push back, it was all Merlin could do to fuck him close and deep, grinding in tight until he was massaging his balls into Arthur’s arse. The build-up of heat in his belly crawled down his spine, licking at all his nerve endings.
It was too much, he couldn't hold on, and when Arthur groped up from his thigh to dig his fingers into the meat of Merlin's arse, it was suddenly upon him, rushing through his body and lighting him up inside, pleasure blanking out everything except Arthur's grip and the scent of his hair stuck wet to his nape, unbearable heat rising from his skin.
Merlin dropped his head down to rest on the back of Arthur's neck. He was breathless, fizzy all the way down to his fingertips.
"Oh my god," he whispered, and then a more urgent, "Oh shit, I'm sorry," when Arthur whimpered and ground down into the sheets.
"You fucking will be if you don't get off me and make me come," Arthur said, then ruined it by laughing, hissing a little as Merlin pulled out but in the end they were both giggling like idiots.
They worked themselves around so that Arthur was on his back, and yeah, fuck, that was definitely a great view, Arthur's spread legs and his cock thick against the crease of his thigh. He wasn't fully hard, and Merlin's brows drew together.
"Did it hurt?"
Arthur thought about it, lightly scratching at his chest, thumbing his nipple. "A bit, yeah."
Merlin swallowed hard, ready to apologise, but then Arthur's hand slipped lower and lower, sinking into the shadowed bed of hair at the root of his cock. He took himself in hand and stroked lazily. "It was good too, though."
"Yeah?" Merlin said, lowering his head, watching Arthur’s eyes glinting in the dark.
"Mmm," Arthur said, feeding Merlin the tip of his hardening cock.
Arthur didn't seem to be in a rush so Merlin wasn't either, taking his time to lick and nibble, exploring Arthur’s cock. Arthur sank his fingers into his own hair and watched him, breathing hard.
Curious, Merlin let his hand wander down until he reached Arthur’s swollen hole. He looked up in wordless question, and Arthur answered in kind with a breathless, shaky moan. Merlin kept his eyes on him as his index finger went in, the combination of lube and come easing the way as he sucked on the tip of Arthur’s cock. Arthur groaned and bit his lip.
When he pushed back in with two fingers, Arthur’s head fell back, his throat working. He didn’t really know if he’d manage to find that amazing spot again, they were both tired and Merlin was big enough to admit his emotions were going haywire, but regardless, it took only a few pumps of his fingers and some earnest if messy mouthing at Arthur's cock before Arthur shuddered and clamped down with a soft grunt. This time, Merlin was ready and didn't pull back, letting Arthur contract around his fingers and fill his mouth.
"Oh, wow," Arthur said, one hand loose in his hair and the other flung out over the bed. He looked boneless. Merlin knew exactly how he felt. His mouth tingled, the aftertaste familiar - he'd tasted his own and Arthur's now, and it was all right, definitely tolerable, even a big mouthful of it.
Looking down at the mess they'd made, Merlin watched a drip of come bead in the crease of Arthur's thigh as he carefully removed his fingers. Cold fear creeped up his spine. It wasn't until that very moment that he realised they hadn't used a condom. When he looked up, he could see Arthur was just now stumbling over the same thought.
"It should be okay, I mean, I haven't. Before. You know."
"Yeah. Me neither. It was still pretty dumb." Arthur said. "We need to be more prepared next time,"
"Next time, huh?"
Arthur looked at him as though Merlin had announced he regularly spoke to aliens. "Yes, next time, we're fucking again as soon as humanly possible. Did you fall on your head this morning?"
"Must’ve, to be shagging you."
"Well, if it was so terrible, I can always shag you instead." Arthur murmured, and sat up, pushing Merlin backwards on the bed and crawling over him. He braced himself on his arms either side of Merlin's head, hot breath on his neck.
"Yep, that'll work too," Merlin said, and gave up his mouth for kisses, letting Arthur press him down into the rank heaven of his messy, tangled sheets.
"We could make it part of the game," Merlin said, heart suddenly pounding. "Doctors wear latex gloves, don't they? We could do something with that."
Arthur stilled. "Yeah," he breathed, and Merlin could swear Arthur's cock twitched against Merlin's leg. "If you're going to examine me you should probably wear gloves."
Merlin nodded, grinning. "Uh-huh, and if I'm gonna take your temperature, you know, we should keep the thermometer hygienic." His face was burning. He imagined rolling a condom onto his cock. Arthur would watch him slather lube on it before letting Merlin slide it slowly into his arse, inch by delicious inch, so Merlin could take his temperature. Fuck.
Arthur's eyes were near black, his body a dark silhouette against the scant moonlight coming in through the window. Merlin imagined Arthur’s hips nudging in, in, the strength in his thighs… Yeah. That would work.
But Arthur didn’t pounce on him. He held still for a moment, and Merlin could practically feel Arthur emoting, it was so strong.
“I don’t wanna hide it. That we’re together. That I love you.”
Merlin smiled, the butterflies in his stomach kicking up a fuss. “Me neither.”
“What are you gonna tell your mum?”
“Nothing,” Merlin shrugged, the clicked his tongue, realising he couldn’t even tease Arthur properly anymore, not if it made him look like that. “‘Cause I’ve already told her.”
“What did you say?”
Merlin’s heart swelled when he realised that only one thing had changed, really. He gently cupped Arthur's face with both hands and kissed him. Because he could.
“That you’re the ugliest dork this side of London,” he said, and endured it as Arthur tickled him so much he thought he’d puke. Then, when Arthur dropped to the bed beside him, both of them breathing hard, “Everything. I told her everything.”
Arthur closed his eyes and reached for Merlin’s hand. “I fucking hope not,” he muttered, making Merlin snicker.
He woke with the birds, their loud chatter still alien. He’d get used to it. Arthur was snoring, face down in his pillow. The hair on the back of his head fluffed up like feathers. Merlin just watched for a moment, wanting to preserve this slice of their life forever in his mind. Eventually, he extricated himself from Arthur’s crusty sheets and sneaked off to the bathroom for a piss. When he came back, Arthur was awake. Merlin grinned and bullied his way into Arthur’s arms, pressing his back to Arthur’s chest and pulling Arthur’s arm across his own body.
“‘S too hot,” Arthur said, but didn’t push him away. Merlin slotted their fingers together and smiled against Arthur’s knuckles, feeling Arthur’s cock stiffen against the swell of his arse.
They held hands through it, and this was making love, Merlin thought, this was what all the fuss was about, not the sex, which, okay, the sex was wonderful too, amazing. But this, Arthur touching him all over, hungry and thirsty for him, holding him close and pressing kisses into his sweaty neck - this was the crux of it. He never wanted to let go.
“Need a shower?” Arthur said afterwards, his breath tickling the back of Merlin’s neck.
Merlin smiled. “You’re going to let me go first this time?”
Arthur rolled him onto his back and gently kissed his mouth until Merlin’s heart began to beat faster. Then he reared up and rubbed his sweaty balls all over Merlin’s stunned face.
“Nope!” He said, and raced for the bathroom, Merlin’s peals of laughter following at his heels.
~ Fin ~