"Come on --" Arthur said, panting, laughing a little bit into Merlin's mouth. He was warm and heavy, half-pinning the darker-haired man underneath him with his weight. "It'll be fun -"
"You said that about the chocolate syrup," Merlin replied seriously, trying to wiggle free. "And about the marshmallow fluff, which was not a good idea. And who had to clean up after that mess, Arthur?"
"Come on," Arthur cajoled, casually nibbling his way down Merlin's shoulders. "You can be my manservant--"
"And you'll be the prattish, spoiled princeling who doesn't deserve to be king." Merlin kissed him back sloppily, opening his mouth underneath Arthur's and arching up enthusiastically. "Ordering me around all the time--- telling me to polish your sword," which was so funny he started giggling, tiny hiccuping laughs into Arthur's mouth.
"Like you wouldn't like it," Arthur responded, mildly indignant but more preoccupied with getting Merlin's belt undone. "You'd probably be the worst manservant ever, you know, always slacking off and talking back--"
"I've been told that I have quite the mouth on me," Merlin mumbled into Arthur's neck.
"And I wouldn't put it past you to be using highly illegal magic, either," whispered Arthur, triumphantly tossing the belt off of the bed and yanking down on Merlin's jeans. "You would probably be found slacking off in your room, using magic to do all of your chores while you thumb through the latest issue of Playgirl,"
"Oh, did they have Playgirl in Camelot, then?" Merlin laughs. "I take it back, then, sire. I'd love to be your illicit sorcerer-manservant, Prince Arthur. I'm sure you'll make a great king --"
"Knights of the Round Table Weekly, then," Arthur laughs back, getting a hand around Merlin's prick and licking the side of his neck.
"I think you're wrong, through," he says seriously, tucking one hand in Arthur's back pocket and grinding up against him, half-crazy with wanting. "You're wrong, Arthur, because I wouldn't be using magic to cheat out of doing all my chores."
"Liar," he gasps.
"Prat," Merlin says affectionately, flipping them over. He wrestles open the fly on Arthur's pants, pulling them off of his legs and kicking them onto the ground. "No, honest, I'd only cheat on most of my chores. There are a few I'd do for real,"
"Mmm," Arthur responds, jerking up a little when Merlin bites down on the line of his hip.
"For example, if you asked me to polish your sword," he adds, looking up at Arthur with his flushed cheeks and swollen lips. "I'd definitely make sure I took any chance to get my hand on your sword."
Arthur's belly shakes as he laughs, and he shoves at Merlin, pushing the thinner man off of him. "I bet you would," Arthur says as he strips off the remainder of his clothes.
Merlin pulls his shirt over his head, allowing Arthur to do the rest. "Yeah," he says, Arthur sliding his boxers off, mouth following everywhere his fingers have touched. "And I'd probably be forced to follow you around, too, saving your idiot life--"
"My life wouldn't need saving," Arthur says, as imperiously as it is possible to speak when he's sucking a hickey onto the inside of Merlin's hip.
"You'd need saving all the time," Merlin insists. "Because your father is an egomaniac, and everyone would want to kill you just to hurt him... and then you'd be just as much of a prat, laughing at servants and -- pulling their pigtails, and, Jesus, Arthur --"
"I would not need saving," Arthur protests, one hand jacking Merlin off rather lazily, the other one on his own cock. "I'd be -- the protector of the weak, defending peasants and whatnot. I'd be the best fighter in the kingdom,"
"And everyone would probably try and attack you with magic," Merlin says, laughing and shuddering at the same time, jerking upwards into Arthur's hand. "God, yes -- and you'd be helpless or unconscious, just waiting for - oh, fuck - something to come and finish you off ---"
"Like you?" And then they're kissing, panting into each others' mouths, Merlin shivering and moaning and trying not to come first.
"Like - bad guys - and I'd be there to save you," He whispers.
"You'd save me?"
"I'd have to--" Merlin mumbles, kissing Arthur and thrusting up into his hand, hiking a leg over Arthur's waists so they can rut up against one another. "All the time, it would have to be me, saving you, nobody else..."
"Because you'd be totally in love with me." Arthur gasps, smug, an insufferable smile on his face. Their cocks slide together, slick and damp, leaving a wet trail over Merlin's stomach. He wraps a big hand around the both of them, the other braced near Merlin's neck, and Arthur just slides forward, thrusting gently, pressing kisses to the corner of Merlin's mouth.
"No, you'd be in love with me," Merlin says, biting at Arthur's lips. "You'd be all insufferable and prattish with anyone other than me, and no one else could stand you. Then you'd complain all the time about how I'm the worst manservant ever, but you'd just be sick with love for me, unable to find anyone more servile. You'd like -- like it -- when I talked back."
"No," Arthur huffed. "You'd do anything for me, anything at all, even -- commit treason against that idiot prat father of mine,"
"Which is no sacrifice at all, not if it was for you, nothing is too much--" Merlin laces his fingers in Arthur's hand and kisses him on the mouth, kisses him so sweetly and gently that it almost hurts. Arthur has no defense against this, nothing to protect him from the way Merlin looks at him, and then he's coming in hot spurts all over Merlin's stomach.
"Yeah," Arthur says, collapsing onto his side, tucking his head into the crook of Merlin's shoulder. He scoops up some of the mess on Merlin's stomach, uses it to slick his hand and Merlin's cock as he continues to work him over. "You know I'd do anything for you, too," He says in Merlin's ear, his voice soft and husky. "I wouldn't be able to tell you, and I'd pretend I didn't care, but I'd -- do anything for you, risk my own life, defy my father, die for you--"
"Arthur," Merlin moans when he comes, thrashing weakly and lifting his hips to fuck Arthur's hand.
"Come on," Arthur says after a moment. "You have to admit I'd look good in chain mail - or a crown."
"Your narcissism knows no bounds," Merlin says sleepily. "I bet you'd want your servants to wear ridiculous costumes, something with a giant feathered hat--"
"In bright red," Arthur grins at him through half-lidded eyes.
A minute later, they're both asleep, Arthur's arm curled protectively over Merlin's shoulders.