Arthur Pendragon had a secret.
It wasn’t a huge secret, it wouldn’t change the world or anything but it was his, and he very much wanted to keep it that way.
Ever since he was a little boy and had snuck downstairs to see what Morgana and her new boyfriend were up to, and caught a glimpse of the telly – with a man flying through the air, a red cape flowing behind him – Arthur had been in love.
Arthur had a dream as well as a secret, his dream was to meet Clark Kent and marry him – his father told him he better keep this dream a secret.
He spent his teenage years evading his friends on Sunday mornings and going to the comic book store, spending hours poring over issue after issue. Most boys his age had stacks of porno’s under their mattresses, Arthur Pendragon had comics.
He carried his love all the way through school and University, never telling anyone. Well he could hardly tell his interviewer that he wanted to work for the paper in case there was a Clark Kent on staff, that would just be silly.
So Arthur, now at the age of 27 and a full time and highly infamous journalist with The Tribune, still spent his Sunday mornings browsing through comic book stores and still had never told a soul, bar his father, of his love.
He was happy, content – everyone kept something of themselves back and this was what he kept. No one needed to know that he had a collection of superhero socks, or a collection of superhero underwear, but most importantly no one needed to know he had Clark Kent glasses. No one knew he needed glasses, he always wore contacts, he only wore the glasses for himself, at night, or when he was alone. He liked them, no loved them. He loved how they made him look smarter and sexier, in his opinion anyway.
It was Friday night and he’d just submitted his story about David Cameron and the alleged donations that could gain a person entry to Downing Street, and he was ready to enjoy an evening sitting on his bed reading his new comic.
He got undressed, wearing only his ity bity superman undies and put on his glasses, relaxing back against his pillows.
He froze, what was Gwaine doing home? He should be at that gala, getting photos of the guests for the paper’s gossip column, not at home – disturbing Arthur’s night of relaxing. They had moved in together a few months ago, colleagues and friends, even if Arthur wanted more and sometimes, he thought Gwaine did too – from his lingering looks and touches.
He scrambled off the bed when he heard Gwaine walking down the hall.
“Wait!” He shouted, desperately trying to find his pants but the door banged open and he froze like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Arthur, I...” Gwaine froze, he cocked his head to the side taking in Arthur’s appearance. His brows drawing together and a grin breaking out on his handsome face. Arthur blushed furiously. “Are you wearing glasses?”
“What?” Arthur snapped, “I mean yes, I wear them, sometimes.”
“Oh!” Gwaine stepped into the room, his eyes raked up and down Arthur’s practically naked body.
Gwaine kicked the door closed and leaned back against it, his gaze turning heated as he ran his eyes over Arthur’s muscular body.
“Nice pants,” He commented after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.
“Merlin gave them to me... As a joke or something.” He stammered, wishing the ground would swallow him.
“Mmm hmmm,” Gwaine hummed, taking a step forward. “So superman, huh?”
Arthur flushed a brighter red.
“Was more of a Bruce Wayne man myself,” Gwaine grinned and Arthur took a step back, the back of his legs hitting the desk.
“Really?” Arthur squeaked.
“Oh, yeah,” Gwaine said, pinning Arthur to the spot and as if the situation wasn’t embarrassing enough he could feel all the blood in his body head south and his cock begin to swell.
Arthur gasped when Gwaine leaned in and ran his tongue along Arthur’s bottom lip.
“But superman gets me hot and bothered too,” he grinned, before sinking to his knees. Arthur stared at him, barely able to breath and Gwaine rubbed his nose along the length of Arthur’s shaft.
Arthur reached up to take off the glasses, but Gwaine smacked his thigh, Arthur frowned at him.
“Leave them on,” he grinned before slowly pulling Arthur’s ity bity undies down, the tight elastic pulling across his strong thighs as Gwaine leant in and ran his tongue along the thick vein of Arthur’s cock.
Arthur’s hand grabbed Gwaine’s hair and moaned as his length was engulfed in the wet heat of Gwaine’s mouth.
His mind was racing and he couldn’t take his eyes off Gwaine, the way his lips were stretched around Arthur’s cock, the way his cheeks were getting red, and the slight build up of tears in the corner of his eyes. Arthur swiped his finger along Gwaine’s eyelashes and his eyes flicked up to meet Arthur’s as he swallowed around Arthur’s cock making Arthur moan loudly.
Gwaine pulled off, wiping the spit from his chin and Arthur made a discontented noise, Gwaine grinned at him and pulled his shoes off, settling back down on his knees but putting his hands on the edge of the desk.
“Come on Superman, fuck my mouth,” Gwaine said and Arthur moaned again, eyes fluttering shut as one of his all time fantasies took life. He fisted Gwaine’s hair and drove his cock into his mouth and down his throat, again and again, harder and faster. His breathing turned ragged and he tried to pull out as he felt his orgasm hit him but Gwaine swallowed and Arthur saw stars as he pulsed down Gwaine’s throat.
“Maybe I do prefer Superman,” Gwaine mumbled as he kissed Arthur’s thigh.
And it wasn’t so bad, someone knowing his secret.