Arthur liked to think of himself as a polite young prince. Unlike Merlin, he knocked before he entered a room.
But that day he was exhausted from the afternoon spent training, annoyed from having to listen to Morgana whine about something woman-ly or other in his ear, and angry that Merlin still hadn’t finished cleaning his chambers. So he had a valid excuse for not knocking when he barged into Merlin’s room with every intent to fling insults at him.
Merlin, however, was in no state for banter, friendly or otherwise. He laid with his legs wide open, eyes squeezed shut, cock thrusting up into his hand in quick, hard jerks. And Arthur froze.
It was more than the image of Merlin, hair sticking up in every which way, getting himself off.
It was Merlin’s cock.
It was. Wow. It was sure something. Larger than Arthur would have ever guessed if he thought about his manservant that way (which he definitely did not). Bigger than even his own royal manhood.
“Arthur!” Merlin yanked the blanket over him and blushed to the tips of his ears. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
As soon as he said the words he realised the irony. But then he’d never walked in on Arthur doing anything like that.
Arthur swallowed and tried to shake the image out of his head, but it was burnt forever behind his eyelids.
“Haven’t you ever heard of following orders and doing your chores?” The prince retaliated. “It’s not your day off, you know.”
“I don’t get days off.”
“Exactly! So get back to work!”
Like every other incident that happened between them, they ignored it. It was never mentioned but it was always thought about. Each time Merlin dressed him, Arthur would be reminded of how he paled in comparison to Merlin’s length. Every time Merlin entered Arthur’s chambers unannounced, he winced at the memory that rose up.
For Merlin, it was simply an embarrassment. For Arthur it was so much more. The image of Merlin wanking on his bed began to fill his every waking moment.
It wasn’t that he was jealous of Merlin, or even that he was attracted to him (which he definitely was not!). It was admiration. Awe. Wonder. Amazement.
Merlin was a scrawny thing, a sorry excuse for a warrior, a servant. Arthur was fit, strong, and a prince. Had he been in Merlin’s place, and as well-endowed as him, he’d find every oppurtunity to ridicule the lesser man’s size. Or at least to take pride in it. Merlin had seen all of Arthur, every part, and yet he had said nothing. Not even a snicker or a condscending eyebrow raise.
It certainly said something about Merlin’s character.
Arthur found himself obsessed with Merlin’s cock. He wanted to see it again, wanted to wrap his hand around it and feel the girth for himself, stroke the organ to completion and watch the veins pulse under his grip.
So Arthur did the only thing a man in his situation could do. He got completely, and utterly pissed.
“Arthur, I think you’ve had enough to drink,” Merlin took the wine bottle out of the prince’s clutches.
It was lucky that they’d left the feast early. Arthur couldn’t remember what the feast was for, some visiting duke or something or other. Merlin didn’t care. Each feast seemed the same as the rest.
“Give me that, Merlin.” Arthur snatched the bottle back from his manservant. “I’ve had enough when I say enough I’ve had enough.”
He raised the bottle to his lips and lifted it so that it was almost completely vertical. His distracted gaze caused him to walk into the door and he ended up spilling the rest of the contents all over his tunic. At least it was the door to his room.
The prince grunted as they entered. “See what you’ve done, Merlin?”
Merlin sighed and took the empty bottle from Arthur, setting it on the table. “I think it’s more to do with what I haven’t done, sire.”
“You’re right. You haven’t undressed me yet, Merlin. It’s hardly becoming for a prince to walk with around on a shirt drenched in wine.”
“Aha! Want to try that sentence again?”
“Shut up, Merlin. Stop…stop spinning too.”
“’S not me that’s spinning, sire,” Merlin chuckled.
Arthur raised his arms and Merlin lifted the tunic over his head. As soon as that was done, Arthur’s head fell forward onto Merlin’s shoulder.
“Ow,” the prince said. “You have the boniest shoulders, d’you know that?”
“I did not. Mind telling me what you’re doing?”
“It takes so much effort to hold my head up. How on earth does anyone walk around doing it all day? It’s so much easier to just let it hang,” Arthur rambled on. “When I’m king everyone will walk around with their heads down.”
Merlin laughed. The proximity to Arthur was making him feel a bit light-headed despite the prince’s claims that heads were heavy.
“That should be interesting. Imagine the neck pain that should cause after a while, and—Arthur? Arthur, that’s me you’re touching.”
“That’s very observant of you, Merlin.”
Somehow Arthur’s hands had ended up on Merlin. One was clutching the fabric at the servant’s waist and the other was palming the front of his trousers.
“Is there, er, any particular reason you’re doing that?”
Arthur didn’t reply, only moved his hand to reach inside and grab a firm hold. Merlin squeaked.
“I think you did.”
“I most certainly did not.”
“You squealed. Like a girl.”
“I’m not a girl.”
“I’m well aware of that, at the moment.”
Merlin took the oppurtunity to look down at what was happening to him. He was fully erect now, stuck between his stomach and Arthur’s hand. His breathing was becoming more and more erratic.
“Don’t speak, Merlin. Just…let me.”
He pushed Merlin towards the bed and the servant fell back onto it with a gasp. Arthur curled his fingers beneath the hem of Merlin’s trousers and Merlin lifted his hips to help get them off. Arthur moaned appreciatively at Merlin’s cock standing at attention.
“Finally.” He stuck his nose into the tuft of curls at the base and breathed in the scent of Merlin.
“Finally? What do you mean ‘finally?’” Merlin looked down at the prince between his legs.
“Finally I can get my hands on you.”
Arthur had said it so low Merlin thought he’d imagined it. But there was no imagining the eager wrapping of fingers around his dick, the slow pull upwards and slide down.
The shine in Arthur’s hungry eyes had an intoxicating effect on Merlin. “You like it?” He asked his prince hoarsely. Arthur nodded as he licked his lips. “You want it?” Arthur nodded even more vigourously. “You can have it.”
Arthur licked his lips once more before slipping the head into his mouth. He lingered there a while, too long for Merlin, who had to fight every urge to thrust deep into the wet heaven.
In his own time, he worked his way down. Arthur couldn’t fit even half of it into his mouth though.
“Gods, it’s so big.” Arthur had sucked it off with a pop, and began studying it, planning how to come at it, like it was a foe.
“I know,” Merlin blushed. “I'm sorry. I’ve always been a bit embarrassed by it, really.”
“I always thought it was…I don’t know…almost freakishly large.”
Arthur gaped. “Merlin. Merlin, no.” He rubbed his cheek against the object of their talk, nuzzled it lovingly. “It’s perfect, Merlin.”
Merlin’s cock twitched and he shuddered. The prince of Camelot was between his legs practically worshipping his dick. It was too much. The thought hit Merlin like a sack of bricks and the air left his lungs.
Arthur stared at the erection a moment longer before deciding it was best to just attack head on. He angled himself so that he could fit as much of it into his mouth as possible and went at it, forcing his gag reflex to just deal with it.
Arthur was literally gagging for his cock. Of course Merlin came hard, unlike any other time he had before.
Arthur wrapped his hands around the exposed length, felt the throbbing release in his fingers and jerked through the aftershocks. He lapped up every last drop, and licked his mouth clean of the bit that dripped down his chin.
Before he could do anything else, he was flipped over and Merlin began returning the favour. Arthur never felt more inadequate in his life.
When he came, he instantly apologised. “Sorry I’m not as big as you.”
Merlin just grinned. “’S alright, Arthur. Size isn’t everything, you know.”