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faith and desire and the swing of your hips

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Arthur downs the last of his drink, leans back against the bar and signals the bartender to get him another one with a lazy wave of his hand. A tall girl in a crimson dress leans in next to him to grab the glass offered her and she looks him over, raising an eyebrow at the tie around his neck.

He looks back, unmoved. In his defense, the tie is loosened and the top button of his shirt unfastened. It’s not like he came to the club dressed like a teenager at prom. It’s been a long week at work, is all, and he came straight here after he finished up. He is, truthfully, knackered, but the thought of going home to sleep is unbearable.

He needs to unwind.

The crowd by the bar pushes and pulls, and the girl in crimson presses against his side, her breasts pushed up against his arm.

“Nice tie,” she says, barely audible over the music, reaching out to finger the bottom of it.

He takes a moment to imagine it between her lips, pulled tight like a gag, the blue contrasting against the red of her lips as her tongue wets the back of it. He wants to ask if she’d like that, but he realises he doesn’t have to ask. The way she licks her lips, her eyes flickering to the tie, makes it abundantly clear that she’s already thinking about it.

Turning back to grab his drink, he moves from the bar, looking back at her as he inclines his head in an obvious invitation.

They head for the exit, but he doesn’t make it past the dance floor. Coming to an abrupt stop, he stares at the familiar shape moving under the lights and struggles to connect the pieces in his head.

If he’d ever considered it, he would’ve imagined Merlin dancing awkwardly, all long limbs and uncertain steps, like those self-conscious dancers who don’t quite know how their bodies fit together. But that would’ve been completely off. Merlin knows exactly what he’s doing with his body.

He seems to know exactly what the twist of his hips does to the guy plastered against his back. There’s a fluidity in the way he moves and a control that makes Arthur’s breath stick in his throat.

But, shit, this is Merlin. Who works under Lance, who works under him. And Arthur sees him sitting innocently at his desk, sipping at cups of tea and gossiping with Gwen, on a daily basis. He’s never seen him do this.

The girl yanks on his arm, but he shakes his head, too distracted to consider her lips against his tie anymore and she shrugs, heading off into the crowd without a backward glance. He is left to stare at Merlin who turns in the other guy’s grip, moving to the music as he presses closer, arching into the guy with practised moves.

Merlin’s long fingers splay out over the bloke’s arse, pulling him closer as they sway under the lights and Arthur’s hand tightens around his glass, his cock hardening so fast in his trousers that he has to close his eyes for a second.

Shit, this is completely out of hand.

He takes a big sip from his drink, his eyes stinging at the strength of it. The club his hot and sweat slides under the collar of his shirt as he sees Merlin throw his head back, neck exposed under the lights. Arthur wants to reach out and grip it tight under his hands, feel the pulse beat against his palm as he presses.

Another guy joins Merlin and the bloke. The three of them dance together and Arthur watches, his cock so hard that the pressure of his zipper feels unbearable.

When the first bloke moves on to dance with someone else, Arthur edges closer, standing at the edge of the dance floor as Merlin (seemingly innocent, sweet, bumbling Merlin) presses into the guy who stayed behind with an obscene roll of his hips. Arthur leaves his empty glass on a nearby table and steps between the bodies on the floor.

The air is hot and stifling, bodies moving to the beat of the music and bumping into him as he zeroes in on them, pausing for a moment when he’s close enough to reach out and touch Merlin’s hips. He takes a moment to breathe – thinking of the consequences – because he feels weird just getting in on it, uninvited. But as he looks around it's clear that uninvited is basically the name of the game.

He steps forward, his hands bracketing Merlin’s hips as he leans in, following the beat. If Merlin is surprised he doesn’t show it, but why would he be? He’s been doing this exact thing for as long as Arthur’s been watching him and it’s not like he can see out of the back of his head that he’s grinding on the dance floor with his boss’ boss.

Merlin pushes back into him in some sort of recognition and Arthur’s fingers tighten on Merlin’s jeans, his breath rushing out of his chest. Feeling Merlin move, body so controlled and deliberate right there under his hands, is exactly like watching him, except nothing like it at all because now there’s body heat and Merlin’s arse pressing back into Arthur’s unmistakable hard-on.

Arthur bites his bottom lip when the bloke pushed against Merlin’s front leans in and kisses him. He can’t see it that clearly from behind, but he catches a glimpse of it when he leans a little to the side, their mouths open and hot against each other. Arthur doesn’t know why it turns him on so fucking much, but it does. There’s something about seeing Merlin’s mouth open and greedy while this guy licks into him, at the same time as Merlin’s arse grinds against Arthur’s crotch that is driving him completely mad.

The other bloke disappears abruptly, pulled away by someone else who slides a leg in between his thighs and attacks his lips. Merlin leans back into Arthur’s body and Arthur lets out a breath, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s waist, holding him tightly as Merlin throws his head back. Arthur presses his mouth to the exposed skin, licking at the spot where Merlin’s pulse races.

He doesn’t have time to prevent it when Merlin suddenly turns in his grip, pressing close and dragging his gaze up with a blissful look on his face that punches Arthur right in the gut. But Merlin sobers immediately as their eyes meet, his hips stilling as his eyes go wide.

“Shit,” Merlin says, inaudible in the noise, but easily read on his kiss-red lips.

Arthur doesn’t want to think consequences. He doesn’t want this to end with Merlin running away with that fearful look in his eyes. He needs it to end any other way than that.

So he grips Merlin’s face, pressing their lips together so desperately that their noses bump and Merlin makes a strangled sound. Arthur opens his mouth against Merlin, nipping at his bottom lip and running the tip of his tongue over the upper, until Merlin sags against him. He feels Merlin’s groan against his own chest as Merlin opens his mouth into the kiss, turning it messy.

It’s wet and without finesse, Merlin’s tongue licking over the roof of his mouth and Arthur presses his hands to Merlin’s arse, pulling him closer until there’s enough friction to make him moan in relief. Merlin breathes into the kiss, fingers fisting into Arthur’s white work shirt.

“Come on,” Arthur says against his lips, pulling him along.

He moves them as well as he can without creating too much distance between them, still wanting the warm length of Merlin pressed against him as they move through the crowd at the club. As they pass into a hallway between two of the main rooms, the yellow lights from overhead cast a glow over Merlin’s neck and Arthur snaps, pushing him against the wall and nipping at his neck.

He inhales deeply, licking the sweat from Merlin’s skin. Pressing his lips down on Merlin’s neck, he sucks little bruises into it as Merlin’s fingers twitch against his shoulders.

“Oh my god,” Merlin says, voice nearly unusable. “Fuck, not here.”

He’s right. There are people slipping past them and Arthur hasn’t really planned on giving a show.

He lets Merlin go and Merlin immediately grabs his arm and pulls him along, dragging him out of the club. Arthur vaguely remembers having left his jacket in there, but he doesn’t care enough to go back for it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Merlin says when he sees the line for the cabs, his fingers digging into Arthur’s arm.

“Yours is closest,” Arthur says, as he wonders how much he’d have to pay to bribe the guy at the front of the line into giving them his spot.

Way too much, judging by the cut of his suit. Not that Arthur is opposed to that right now, but Merlin is already pulling him down the street.

But even if Merlin’s place is closest, it’s too fucking far away.

And they don’t make it.

It’s not the most dignified moment of his life when he pulls Merlin into a narrow alley between two buildings, presses him back against the wall and slips a leg between his thighs. Merlin doesn’t protest, though. Instead, he moans enthusiastically, grinding down onto Arthur’s thigh as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

Arthur presses his palms to the wall behind Merlin, steadying himself as he leans in to suck marks into his collarbone, soothing the stings with his tongue.

“Shit, Merlin,” he says against his skin, cock pulsing. “Been so fucking hard ever since I saw you grinding on that guy on the dance floor.”

There’s a strangled moan and then Merlin’s fingers slip into his hair, tugging so hard Arthur’s eyes water. “Yeah? Did you want it?”

Arthur hums, licking a path up to Merlin’s jaw, dragging his lips along it. “Wanted to fuck you from behind while he held you up, holding your ass open for me, watching you. Wanted him to watch your face as I fucked you open.”

“Jesus Christ, you fucking–” Merlin doesn’t finish his sentence, but kisses him like he wants to own every inch of Arthur’s mouth.

“Fuck, please tell me you have lube,” Arthur says, words nearly swallowed by another kiss.

“Back pocket.”

Well, thank fuck for that.

Flipping Merlin over, he pushes him against the wall and looks out into the street as he slips his fingers into the pocket at the back of the tight jeans. It’s dark around them, but if anyone looked closely enough they’d probably know what they were looking at.

They’re definitely at risk of being discovered. He smiles at the thought and wonders when this became a thing. Because apparently it is.

Holding Merlin to the wall with a hand splayed against his back, he pushes his jeans and boxers down, breath shaking a little as he runs his hand over the naked swell of his arse. Merlin holds his breath, cheek pressed to the concrete.

When Arthur slips his finger in, he has to press the other hand to the wall, steadying himself at the feeling of Merlin clenching around him. He works him open with two fingers, using another to tease the rim with light strokes until Merlin shakes, his breath coming out in shallow puffs.

Arthur wants to get his cock inside him so badly that he can barely see straight and when Merlin starts rocking into his fingers, fucking himself on them with a blissful smile on his face, Arthur is fucking done waiting. He’s so done.

He opens his trousers, only bothering to push them and his boxers down enough not to be in the way. Merlin looks at him over his shoulder, hands pressed to the wall and arse pushed up waiting for Arthur to sink into him.

“Fuck, just do it. Didn’t you want to fuck me open, yeah? You said you wanted to, so do it. Just stop being –”

Merlin doesn’t say anything else, because Arthur has finally gotten the condom on and pushes into Merlin in one quick thrust of his hips, sliding easily in the slickness he’s made. Merlin heaves for breath, clawing at the wall as he pushes himself back onto Arthur’s cock, tight around him.

Sudden laughter comes from the street not far from them and Arthur stops, sweating with the strain of keeping himself still when all he wants to do is to move. He’s buried deep in Merlin’s arse, hands gripping his hips as he looks out into the street, waiting for the laughing group to pass. Merlin is completely still, his thighs trembling and his lungs expanding with every deep breath.

It feels like forever before the laughter fades, but when it does, Arthur digs his fingers into Merlin’s hips and fucks him, pace fast and unrelenting because he fucking can’t hold it in any longer. Merlin sobs, pushing back into it, his hips moving back into Arthur’s thrusts.

“Fucking... Fuck.” Arthur puts one hand at the back of Merlin’s neck, pressing him into the wall as he buries himself inside, nearly losing his mind over the tightness around his cock.

He looks down, watches it disappear into Merlin, sees the rim stretching around him and giving in to each of his thrusts.

There’s footsteps close by again, but he doesn’t care. His tie swings as he moves, brushing over Merlin’s back, and he can’t fucking believe he almost wasted his evening on that girl at the club when he has Merlin babbling incoherently against a concrete wall in an alley, fingers clutching uselessly at the stone.

“Oh my god.” Merlin’s words come out in gasps, and he throws his head back, making Arthur pull at his hair just to see the way his throat works when he moans helplessly.

When the idea comes to him, he can’t get it out of his head. He can’t stop thinking about what his tie would look like around Merlin’s neck, the skin pale against the fabric. Stilling his hips, he wrenches the tie over his head, ignoring Merlin’s impatient whine.

Merlin grinds against him as Arthur slips the tie over Merlin’s head, fumbling a little with it until it hangs loosely around his neck and trails down his back. He doesn’t want it loose, though. He really doesn’t.

Leaning in, giving a brief moan as the angle changes, he wraps one hand around the knot on the tie while the other brushes, featherlight, over Merlin’s neck.

“OK?” he asks as he tightens the knot a little, pulling at the tie just to make sure Merlin knows what he’s asking.

He holds his breath waiting for the answer, wanting it so badly that he can taste it, but he won’t unless Merlin agrees. He can’t just do it, out of nowhere. He runs his finger across Merlin’s jaw, softly, as Merlin swallows. Arthur notices that his Adam’s apple brushes against the tie and he’s so fucking close to coming.

And then Merlin nods, unmistakably, against his hand and Arthur drops his forehead against Merlin’s shoulder. “Jesus.”

He takes a moment to pull himself together before he fucks Merlin again, more languidly now, with steady, hard strokes that make Merlin keen, his lips open and grazing the concrete as his cheek presses into the wall.

And Arthur pulls on the tie, watching as it strains against Merlin’s pale skin, his throat working under the fabric. Arthur moans so loudly he knows people would hear him if they’re walking past. He pushes a hand to the wall, steadying himself as he spreads Merlin open with his cock, steadily tightening his grip on the tie.

Merlin’s moan is strangled, but desperate, and the sound of it makes Arthur push in deeper, looking at the skin wrapping around his cock as he buries himself inside the perfect heat. When he looks up, Merlin is craning his neck to look at him, gaze unfocused.

“Tighter,” he says and Arthur loses his rhythm, swearing as he pulls on the fabric until Merlin gives a full-bodied shudder.

Merlin grinds back into his thrusts, clearly desperate now, and Arthur can’t fucking hold it together anymore as Merlin struggles to breathe properly under the tight ring of Arthur’s tie. He regrettably lets go of the fabric to wrap his hand around Merlin’s cock, jerking him with an unsteady hand..

When Merlin comes, he sobs, shaking apart against the wall, his hands scrambling against the flat surface. He comes over Arthur’s hand and his own stomach, taking big gulps of breath, releasing each of them on a moan.

Arthur has lost all rhythm, fucking into the tight hole with a desperation that he’s not sure he’s ever felt before. He needs to come so badly that his vision blurs and his ears ring. Pushing in one last time, he buries himself deep inside and comes, trying to muffle the sounds that are way too loud for the place they’re in. He buries his face in the crook of his arm as his cock keeps jerking.

Merlin is boneless against the wall, his jeans pooling around his ankles as he breathes heavily. Arthur can’t bring himself to move until he gets too sensitive, slipping out with a wince and running a thumb over the rim that clutches at nothing. Merlin whimpers.

Oh god.

Merlin.

Arthur closes his eyes.

He tries not to look as they get dressed. His arms feel useless and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get home, but he doesn’t think Merlin’s in any better shape.

Merlin straightens up and Arthur glances at him, noticing how Merlin turns his chin up.

“See you Monday,” Merlin says, and god, he’s got more guts than Arthur ever gave him credit for. “I’ll hang onto this.”

Merlin holds up the tie before he pockets it, takes a few fumbling steps backwards, and turns around, leaving the alley with his shirt untucked.