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“Merlin, could you take the King his draught please?  I’m going to be here all night with these remedies,” Gaius didn’t look up from the steaming cauldron he was currently engaged in stirring, and Merlin knew it was because he was still annoyed with him.

“To the King – but Gaius -” Merlin’s argument faltered when the old man turned, one eyebrow disappearing beneath his hairline.

“May I remind you Merlin, exactly why I’m having to brew this remedy?” Gaius used his sternest tone, the one that brooked no argument, even if Merlin had one, which he didn’t, because Gaius was right, it was his fault.  Slight mishap with a spell was all, not intentional, but now half the court had the hiccups.

Luckily for Merlin, the King didn’t suspect a magical cock up, he seemed more inclined to blame the wild boar Arthur had brought back from the hunt yesterday that those infected had consumed at last night’s feast. 

“OK, OK, I’ll go,” grumped Merlin, knowing full well he had no choice.  “But if I end up in the stocks again, I’m blaming you.”  The last time Merlin had taken Uther his draught, he’d dropped it in surprise when he’d entered Uther’s chambers to find the King naked in the bath, his own manservant nowhere to be seen, but little Uther very much visible, rising out of the steaming bathwater to say hello.

Merlin was more surprised that the sight of the naked King wasn’t as abhorrent as it should be.  For someone so old he was in pretty good shape.

He picked up the vial off the workbench and slouched his way to the door, muttering under his breath about being unappreciated and overworked; his usual mantra.  Always in trouble when things went wrong, no credit when he saved the day.  He saved the day far more often than he fucked up, but as he and Gaius were the only ones to know this, well, credit where it was due was going to be a long time coming.

Merlin found himself outside Uther’s chambers far faster than he had intended, knocking to gain entry he half hoped that the King would be elsewhere, that he could simply leave the draught with one of the guards and make his escape.

Despite what Merlin would expect, based on his experiences with Arthur; Uther didn’t work his manservant half as hard as Arthur worked Merlin.  Hence Wilbur had probably already retired for the night.

“Enter,” Uther replied when Merlin knocked, and Merlin tentatively opened the door and poked his head inside, just in case there was naked flesh.  Not seeing Uther and the bath being empty, Merlin sighed in relief and slipped inside.

“Sire, I’ve brought your draught,” he called, looking hastily around the chamber for the King. “Gaius is busy with the hiccup remedy.”

“Put it next to the bed,” came Uther’s voice, and Merlin pinpointed it as coming from behind the screen in the corner.  Hoping for a quick getaway, Merlin quickly walked over to the bed, holding the vial tightly in his palm, reducing the margin for error.  “While you’re here, could you help me with these laces?”  The voice was practically in Merlin’s ear as the King appeared behind him, causing him to jump and drop the vial; and in his panic, a vision of a cold night in the stocks flashing before him, his eyes flashed golden and the vial’s fall was cushioned as it hit the floor, and for a moment it hovered, maybe a centimetre from the floor, before placingitself carefully on the floor, still in one piece.

Shit shit fuck.  Merlin glanced at the King who was looking at the vial in confusion, and Merlin knew the game could be up.  If the King realised he’d just used magic – well Merlin was in for more than a night in the stocks.  Quickly he bent and picked up the vial, “Sorry Sire, I’m soclumsy,” he covered.  “Er - laces you say?”

Uther was still staring at the vial with suspicion.  Merlin swallowed nervously, noticing the King properly for the first time.  He was shirtless, his breeches half undone, the laces having tied themselves up in a complicated knot, which must be what he was asking for help with.

Before he even realised what he was doing, because all he could think was distract him – he’d reached for the laces, his hand brushing over the exposed flesh above the King’s waistband, deliberately, on its way to entangle with the laces.  “Oh my,” he breathed huskily.  “They really are in a mess.  Let me...” and he began to fumble, both hands now, working on the laces, deliberately letting his hands brush over the bulge of the King’s cock; figuring ‘accidentally’ touching the royal goods might be a night in the stocks, but was better at being burnt at the stake for being a sorcerer.

He looked up at Uther then, under his lashes, to find the King looking down at him, their eyes meeting.  Uther’s expression was no longer suspicious or  confused; but they did flick down to Merlin’s lips and widen as his pupils were dilating, coming  back up to meet Merlin’s gaze, his breathing speeding up.  Encouraged Merlin stopped fumbling and cupped the King’s manhood through his breeches.  Distract him, distract him.  Uther’s breath hitched, his eyes never leaving Merlin’s as Merlin loosened the laces and slid a hand inside, closing it around the King’s now obvious arousal.

A little voice in his head was screaming ‘what the fuck are you doing?’, but Merlin paid it no heed and continued with his ministrations.  Distract him, distract him.

Uther wasn’t protesting, which to Merlin meant no stocks and definitely no burning at the stake.  His hand snaked down and closed around Merlin’s wrist, and Merlin’s heart stopped, oh God, he’s on to me, but instead of accusations from the King’s lips, Uther simply said, “Have you any idea how often I fantasised about this?”  His other hand was on Merlin’s lips, exploring almost wondrously, and Merlin wasn’t about to object to this sudden affection for him from the King, in fact he almost liked it.  “So pretty...”

Merlin opened his mouth and captured the King’s fingers inside, watching his face for a reaction, convinced that this would be the moment he would be dismissed, but his hand was still firmly wrapped around Uther’s cock, and perhaps this had already gone much further than he intended because that was when Uther removed his fingers from Merlin’s mouth and covered his lips with his own, kissing him firmly, desperately, his tongue in Merlin’s mouth, his hand on the back of his neck pulling him in close.

Merlin whimpered, kissing the King back, all thoughts of this merely being a distraction gone, enjoying Uther’s questing tongue, the filthiness of the kiss, the way Uther had backed him against the bed, not caring that he was falling back, Uther coming down on top of him. Uther’s hands were suddenly everywhere, removing Merlin’s own clothing, and in the back of his mind Merlin wanted to laugh at the image of the King removing his – a servant’s – clothing, but then any thought of laughter was abandoned when Uther’s calloused hand found its way around Merlin’s cock, stroking it reverently, as though Merlin were the King and Uther the servant.

“Want you,” Uther hissed, lying now between Merlin’s spread thighs like he’s always belonged there.  “Want those lips, want -” and he somehow manoeuvred their position, so that Merlin was the one between Uther’s thighs, and Merlin knew what he wanted, so he shimmied down, grasping the royal cock in his hand as he knelt between the King’s naked thighs – when, exactly, had they both gotten naked? - and closed his lips over the head of Uther’s erection, loving the groan that came from the royal lips, the way Uther’s hips bucked as Merlin took his full length and began to bob his head, hollowing his cheeks as he pleasured the King.  Oh God,he was giving the King a blowjob

It probably shouldn’t, but just knowing that made Merlin harder than ever.  He, Merlin Emrys,sorcerer, was making the mighty Uther Pendragon come undone.  It couldn’t get better than this.  The King was at his mercy.  One flick of his hand and he could rid the Kingdom of the tyrant once and for all.  One flick

Uther’s hands were in his hair now, and he was moaning, his breath coming in starts, Merlin, Merlin, Merlin,  and just hearing that threw any thoughts of regicide from Merlin’s mind – not that he could ever do that to Arthur – but the King, the fucking King was coming down Merlin’s throat, in hot salty spurts, and Merlin was swallowing every drop, lapping Uther’s cock clean when he was done, sitting back on his heels, his own erection straining against his belly, unspent.

He wasn’t sure of the etiquette now; if he finished himself off, came all over Uther...what would Uther do?  Should he leave himself unsatisfied and simply get dressed and leave?  What does a manservant do when he’s finished pleasuring his King? 

He didn’t have to wonder for long.  Uther propped himself up in his elbows and licked his lips, a small smile playing there as his eyes swept over Merlin’s dishevelled aroused state.  “Arthur must be blind,” he said, shaking his head.  “Merlin, how would you like to fuck the King?”

Merlin knew he was gaping, he hadn’t expected that.  He’d thought perhaps that Uther might have wanted to fuck him, but surely the King of Camelot would never relinquish his control to a servant?  But God how he wanted him to.

Uther leant over to his bedside locker and picked up the vial that had been the catalyst for this little tryst, and tossed it to Merlin, who for once, managed to catch without dropping. 

“Gaius calls this a draught to preserve my modesty,” he saw fit to explain, before flipping Merlin onto his back and straddling him.  He took the vial from Merlin, who was frozen in surprise, tipping out some of the contents onto his fingers and reaching behind to prepare himself.

“Sire,” breathed Merlin, amazed as his cock hardened even further at the sight of the King impaling himself on his own fingers.  “Let me -”

But Uther was done, crawling forward over Merlin’s prone form to kiss him, and Merlin realised the King was hard again, and couldn’t help but be impressed as Uther had to be in his fifties at the very least.

Merlin was so caught up in kiss he almost bit the King’s tongue off when he felt Uther’s fingers close around his erection, then lining himself up and lowering himself onto his cock.  This is the point that Merlin thinks he really must have fallen over and been hit on the head, because he can’t really be here, with King Uther Pendragon riding him – can he?  He can’t be enjoying this, fucking the King – though truth be told, Uther is still the one in control here even if Merlin is the one with his dick in his arse – because this man is his enemy, this man would want him dead if he knew what Merlin really was, and fuck it, the fact that Merlin is a fucking sorcerer is the only reason this is even happening, because he would never ever have had that crazy thought and touched Uther that was if he weren’t trying to cover up for his mistakes...butGod, right now, who cared? 

Who cared why they were doing this, right now it only mattered that they were.  Merlin’s hands really were on Uther’s hips, attempting to steady him so that he could thrust upwards, be an active participant as the King rode them both to completion.  Merlin bit his lip, trying to hold back, because normally he was a screamer, and Uther – head flung back, hands behind him on Merlin’s thighs, was chanting yes, yes, yes in between uncontrollable groans and mutterings of Merlin’s name, and Merlin was reaching for Uther’s cock as it bounced against his stomach, only for Uther to bat him away and increase his pace as he fucked himself down onto Merlin.

Merlin gave in then, joining the King as he moaned his pleasure, “Oh fuck,” he heard himself say.  “Sire!” and he was coming in endless spurts, inside the King of Camelot, and even though he’s a willing participant, he can’t quite believe he’s actually enjoyed this, because it was all just a teeny mistake, he never quite meant to end up pinned beneath the King, watching in awe as Uther joined him in release, spending himself across Merlin’s chest with a shout of his name.

Uther lifted himself off Merlin and flopped down on the bed beside him, nuzzling into Merlin’s neck contentedly, but Merlin’s already coming down, cold and unsure, the sex driven high giving way to the post coital panic, not least the post coital ‘I’ve just fucked the King’ panic. As in, what the fuck was he supposed to do now?  What if Uther was just playing him – he’d seen Merlin use his magic as was humouring him; an orgasm before dying? 

Gingerly, Merlin tried to extricate himself from Uther’s embrace, which by now consisted of one arm slung firmly across Merlin’s chest, gripping his far shoulder, and Uther’s face in his hair, nibbling his ear.  How the fuck had this happened?  He honestly never thought the King would respond to his clumsy distracting techniques in the way he had, and although Merlin wouldn’t want to take it back because fuck that had been great sex; this changed everything.

“What are you doing?” murmured Uther, stopping his ear nibbling to form the question.

“Ehm, going back to my chambers?” Merlin answered in a low voice.

“No,” Uther pulled Merlin tighter against him.  “Stay tonight.”

-0-

The following morning Merlin was woken by Uther’s lips around his cock, swiftly followed by a mind blowing orgasm that turned his vision white.

When Uther said immediately afterwards, “You’re moving in here with me,” Merlin didn’t demur.  After all, what wasn’t there to love about it?  Nice comfortable bed, sex on tap; keeping his enemy close.

All they had to do was tell Arthur.  Merlin wasn’t looking forward to that.

-0-