Chapter Text
Merlin opened the heavy curtains, letting the sunlight stream into the room, washing across the face of the sleeping prince. Arthur grumbled and rolled over, slowly blinking his eyes open.
“Good morning, my lord,” Merlin said, the edge still in his voice as he said the title. This was his third day working as the prince’s manservant, a position he still very much felt was more punishment than reward, no matter what the king had said.
“Merlin,” the prince greeted, his voice croaky with sleep, pushing himself up on one hand. “Drink.”
Merlin went to the table and poured a gobletful of water from the fresh jug he had just brought up. He took it to Arthur, who was sitting up now, his sheet falling down his bare chest to pool in his lap. Merlin fumbled and almost dropped the goblet when he saw that the sheet was being lifted by the prince’s very obvious morning glory. He jerked his gaze away so fast he cricked his neck, feeling heat rush up his face to the tips of his ears.
“Here.” Arthur had drained the goblet in one and was holding it for Merlin to take.
Merlin tried to do so without looking at the prince which just resulted in the goblet falling to the floor with a clang.
“Sorry!” Merlin ducked down to pick it up, hurrying back to the table and putting it down. He placed his hands flat on the table and kept his back to Arthur. “Will that be all, my lord? Can I go?” He began scurrying towards the door.
“Wait, not yet!” the prince called, a little angrily. “Come and take care of this.”
Merlin slowly turned around, wondering what the prince was referring to. He had stuffed a pillow behind his back, his eyes half lidded and the sheet shoved down to his knees. Giving Merlin a full view of his rather glorious hard cock, standing up long and proud from the nest of golden curls.
“Take care of…” Merlin rasped, his voice stuck in his suddenly dry throat.
“My manhood,” Arthur said, gesturing down at his crotch.
“What?!” Merlin yelped and leapt back towards the door, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open in shock.
Arthur frowned but before he could say anything else, Merlin fled.
“Merlin, get back here! MERLIN!”
Merlin continued running. He burst through the door to Gaius’s rooms, startling the old man into dropping a bottle of potion. Merlin’s hand shot out just in time, his eyes flaring gold so the bottle stopped, hovering two inches from the floor.
“Merlin!” Gaius shouted. “The door is open!” He stooped and snatched the bottle then strode across the room and slammed the door behind Merlin.
“Sorry! I just, it’s instinct,” Merlin offered by way of explanation and apology.
“Well, stop it. You must always think before you use your magic. Make sure you are aware of who is around to see,” Gaius scolded, placing the bottle back onto his workbench with such force it’s a wonder it didn’t break anyway.
“Yes, I know. Sorry.”
“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with the prince?”
Merlin let out a humourless laugh and began pacing. “I can’t do it! I can’t work for that arrogant prat! He is impossible! You won’t believe what he just asked me to do!” He shook his head fiercely, his cheeks heating up again.
“What did he ask?”
“He asked me,” Merlin started, cleared his throat and began again. “He asked me to… you know, his… you know…” He made a hand gesture, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.
Gaius frowned. “What his what?”
Merlin made an embarrassed squeaky groan. He could feel his face burning. “He asked me to…” He stopped pacing and took a deep breath. “Rub his sword!”
Gaius lifted one eyebrow, it arched perfectly over his right eye. “Yes, you have to look after his weapons –”
“No, Gaius, not that sword, not the one he fights with…” Merlin put his hands in his hair, tugging it in frustration. “His… morning… glory…” He gestured at his own crotch.
“Oh!” Gaius waved a hand in understanding. “Yes. Of course he did.”
“What do you mean, of course he did?” Merlin’s voice sounded a little shrill now.
“That’s one of a manservant’s duties,” Gaius explained.
“What?!”
“I assumed you knew? It is common knowledge that’s what a manservant does.”
“No! I didn’t know!” Merlin cried indignantly. “Why can’t he just do it himself?”
Gaius frowned. “That’s not how things are done. For a prince to have to tend to his own manhood would be extremely improper and shameful.”
“But that’s stupid!” Merlin said, throwing his hands up in the air as he resumed his stomped pacing.
“That’s as maybe. But that doesn’t stop it being your job to do it.”
“What if I don’t want to?!”
“Then you’ll be demoted to just a common servant.”
“That can’t be any worse.”
“It can, my boy,” Gaius said sagely, pushing Merlin down onto a chair and sitting beside him. “Being the prince’s manservant is a very prestigious position, it is highly coveted by most.”
“Not by me,” Merlin grumbled.
“It should be. It’s an incredible honour. I don’t even know why the king gave it to you really. Other than Arthur needed a new one, he hasn’t liked the last few.”
“He doesn’t like me!”
“He won’t if you refuse to see to his needs, Merlin. That’s your first duty as his manservant, take care of his manhood.”
Merlin let his face drop into his hands. “Why me?” he groaned.
Gaius said nothing more, just stood up and patted Merlin’s shoulder before going back to his workbench. Merlin sat with his head in his hands for a while longer, wondering how exactly he had got himself into this predicament. Saving someone’s life got him this?
“Hadn’t you better get back to the prince?” Gaius said eventually.
“Do I have to?”
“Yes. Go and resign if you don’t want the job.”
Merlin got up and stormed out of Gaius’s chambers. He stamped along the corridors on his way back across the castle to the royal wing, letting his annoyance out through his feet as he tried to decide what to do.
He stopped when he got to Arthur’s door. He stared at the blank wood for several seconds. Then made his mind up; he wanted to try. He drew up his nerve, took a deep breath and knocked.
“Enter.”
Merlin opened the door. Arthur was sitting at his desk, glaring at a scroll in front of him. He was dressed and his hair was wet. The bowl of warm water Merlin had brought up earlier was sitting amongst puddles on the wash table, a sopping wet washcloth still dripping over the edge of the table onto the floor.
Arthur did not look at him, but Merlin noticed the tensing of his jaw.
“Sorry,” he began, bowing slightly, his face crimson again. “I didn’t know.”
Arthur just grunted, still staring at the parchment as if he was trying to see right through it to the desk beneath.
“I have learned the difference between servant and manservant, my lord,” Merlin said as calmly as he could manage.
“Good,” Arthur snapped. He let go of the end of the scroll so that is sprang back up into a roll, pushing his chair back with considerable force. He crossed the room in several quick strides and solidly smacked Merlin around the head with the roll of heavy parchment.
“Ow!”
“I am your master and I am the prince of Camelot. When I ask you to do something I expect it done immediately.”
“Yes, your Highness,” Merlin muttered, rubbing his ear which had taken the brunt of the whack from the scroll.
“Now that you know the requirements of a manservant, I do not expect to have to ask for you to perform them.”
“Yes, your Highness,” he repeated.
“Refuse me again and I’ll have you thrown in jail.”
Arthur placed a hand firmly on Merlin’s chest and shoved him away, then swept from the room. Merlin stumbled, catching himself before he fell over completely. So this was it then.
“Merlin!”
He hurried out of the room, following the prince.
Chapter Text
The next morning Merlin hovered outside the prince’s chambers. He had the bowl of warm water in one hand, jug of cold in the other. The water in the bowl was rippling and splashing with the movement of Merlin’s foot, which he was tapping nervously against his other foot, stalling entering the prince’s room.
Eventually he drew his courage and opened the door, placing the jug on the desk and the bowl on the wash table. He looked over at the prince, curled on his side still asleep. Maybe he could sneak back out of the room before the prince woke, then he wouldn’t be here to perform his manservant duty…
Biting his lip, he hurried across the room towards the door. But before he could get to the door, his stupid clumsy feet caught the edge of a tall candelabrum and it and he went tumbling to the floor with a loud crash.
“Merlin!”
Merlin groaned, sitting up and rubbing his elbow. He looked over at the bed, the prince had raised himself up on one elbow, smirking at Merlin lying on the floor.
“Good morning, my lord,” Merlin said, trying for cheerful, but getting idiotic. He cringed at himself.
He stood, pulling the candelabrum back up and quickly retrieving the candles that had rolled out of it. He tried to keep his back to the prince the entire time, hoping that perhaps he wouldn’t be needed this morning.
Once the candelabrum was restored to its rightful position, he went to the desk and poured a goblet of water and took it to the prince.
While the prince drank, Merlin let his eyes flicker down his bare chest to the puddle of sheets on his lap, his face flushing and his stomach flipping when he saw the telltale tent in the fabric.
Arthur noticed his gaze.
“So what’s it to be?” he asked with a drawl, pushing the sheet down his legs to expose his manhood. “Are you going to take care of this, or are you spending every day next week in the stocks?”
Merlin bit his lip, taking the empty goblet from the prince and placing it on the small dresser at his bedside. He was feeling hot and flustered, his heart drumming against his ribs.
“I… Are you sure…? I mean… I –” he couldn’t help stammering. His voice sounded a little higher than normal and he shifted from foot to foot, too nervous to stay still.
Arthur’s gaze pierced him, his blue eyes unblinking and filled with demanding expectation. Merlin squirmed under the stare. Then he slowly dropped to his knees, bracing his elbows on the mattress.
Arthur shifted his pillows behind himself, getting comfortable.
“Go ahead,” he whispered, dropping his head back and closing his eyes.
Merlin poked his tongue out to wet his lips. Then rubbed his hands together anxiously, lifting one to hover over the prince. His fingers trembled slightly. He lowered his hand to Arthur’s thigh, his fingertips lightly brushing the tanned skin. Arthur flinched and Merlin snatched his hand back, his eyes going wide. He’d done something wrong already.
“Your hands are freezing,” Arthur complained.
Merlin wanted to snap back a retort about how he had been up and working in the cold castle for an hour already this morning as apposed to being bundled up in lovely thick blankets and that’s why his hands were cold, but instead he just got up and went over to the washbowl. Making sure his back was to Arthur he let his magic flow into the water and bring it to a nice hot temperature before plunging his hands in.
Once his hands were sufficiently warm, he pulled them from the basin and dried them, before returning to his place beside the bed. He sank back to his knees and once more lifted a hand towards the prince.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat still, his hand unmoving two inches above the prince’s manhood, but Arthur eventually got impatient, grabbing Merlin’s hand and bringing it down to wrap around himself. He let out a small groan.
“That’s better.”
Merlin flexed his fingers, circling the prince in his fist, and took a deep breath. He moved his hand slowly. The prince’s cock was thick and firm, hot and heavy in his hand. He slid his fist up and down, his rough fingers dragging against the sensitive skin. A hint of excitement fizzled in his stomach.
The prince shifted his hips. He looked incredibly uncomfortable. Merlin tried moving his hand a bit faster, his fingers tense. Arthur grimaced.
Shuffling on his knees closer to the bed, Merlin let his hand tighten a little, hoping it was just his imagination making the prince’s member seem to soften slightly. After a few more tugs, Arthur’s hand shot out to grab Merlin’s wrist, pulling his hand completely off of himself. He groaned in annoyance, flinging Merlin away from him. Merlin tumbled backwards, sprawling across the floor.
“Good God, why have I been given the worst manservant in the land?” Arthur shouted, pulling his knees to his chest and yanking the sheet back up to cover his wilting manhood. It had not been just Merlin’s imagination, it was definitely losing its firmness. “How can you not know how to do this?”
Merlin got back up to his knees, his face flaming as he bowed his head.
“Do you not ever take yourself in hand?” Arthur asked fiercely.
“Yes, but –” Merlin wanted to point out how different it was reaching down to himself – where he knew exactly what to do and how to move and flex his fingers, keeping his pace strong while his other hand trailed over his thighs and chest and arse – and reaching across a bed to touch another man as part of a duty.
“Get out.” Arthur's voice cracked midway through the second word.
He flung his hand towards the door then reached to pick up the goblet from his bedside as Merlin scrabbled to his feet. Merlin was halfway across the room when the goblet struck the back of his neck.
He didn’t see Arthur for the rest of the morning until he was summoned to the practice fields where the prince trained with his knights. The knights were all lined up beside the weapons’ racks, chattering amongst themselves, laughing and pushing each other around. The prince was standing slightly to the side, his downcast eyes looking a little red. His chainmail was spread out on a table next to him.
“Help me with this,” he said without looking up as Merlin got to his side.
“Yes, sire.”
Merlin picked up the chainmail, lifting it as Arthur raised his arms. The chainmail slid over his shoulders, the weight of it pulling it down his body to settle properly over his chest. He pulled the belt around the prince’s waist, fastening the buckle in silence as Arthur picked up his sword.
“Ready?” Arthur called to the knights as Merlin strapped the vambrace onto his right wrist. The knights circled around, waiting for Arthur to begin the training session. Merlin lifted Arthur’s left wrist to secure his other vambrace. Arthur gritted his teeth, still averting his gaze from Merlin’s face. Merlin’s fingers fumbled.
There was a snigger and one of the knights gestured at Merlin, saying jovially to the prince, “A new manservant, Arthur? What’s this one like? Got you screaming in the sheets yet?”
Arthur’s face bloomed crimson and he pulled away from Merlin’s hands, the unfastened vambrace falling to the floor. With a snarl he swung his sword at the offending knight, who only just managed to get his own sword up in time to parry the hit.
“Clearly not,” another of the knights muttered to the one standing next to him as the prince rained fierce blows down on the knight, driving him back until he tumbled to the ground.
“Got a lot of pent up tension, hasn’t he?” the other replied with a chuckle.
Merlin bent to pick up Arthur’s vambrace and the two knights spotted him and laughed, one coming over to clap a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, took my boy a day or two to get it right as well.”
“Better learn quick though,” the other said, ignoring Merlin’s flaming cheeks. “You don’t want to know what happened to the last boy that displeased his Highness.”
They both laughed again at Merlin’s expense, one punching his arm before they walked away to join the practice.
Arthur was still standing over the fallen knight, his sword hand quivering as he shouted criticism about the knight’s footwork. Angrily, he put a hand down to pull the knight to his feet then pushed him aside and stalked back towards Merlin. His face was still red and he was growling threats; the words ‘useless’ and ‘stocks’ spat in Merlin’s direction as he thrust his left arm into Merlin’s stomach. Merlin coughed, doubling over with the pain.
Once he’d got his breath back, he quickly fitted the vambrace around Arthur’s arm, trying to ignore the way the seething prince was clenching his fists, every muscle in his body tense, and frustrated tears glistening in his eyes.
“I will not be embarrassed in front of my knights,” he hissed at Merlin, wrenching his arm free as soon as the straps were fastened and shoving him hard in the chest. “You will do your fucking duty tomorrow. And you will do it properly, or so help me, I shall have you strung up in the dungeon.”
For the first time since he’d met him, Merlin actually felt a little intimidated by the prince.
Chapter Text
Merlin had taken the first opportunity possible to get away from the prince that evening. As soon as Arthur had finished his bath and Merlin had helped him dress for dinner with his father, he had fled. Not before Arthur had thrown a torn shirt at him and demanded it be repaired for the next day though.
And so he was sitting at the little table in Gaius’s chambers, squinting in the candlelight to sew the hole up. He stabbed fiercely at the shirt, several times jabbing himself in the thumb with his needle. The stitches weren’t anywhere near as good as they should have been, uneven and lumpy, but Merlin didn’t care at that moment. The rip was getting smaller and that was all that mattered.
And if the prince whinged about it then Merlin would just turn him into a toad. Stupid prat deserved it. Yanking the thread though the red fabric, Merlin sighed. Of course, he couldn’t really turn Arthur into a toad, but it was a fun thought to entertain.
If Gaius hadn’t been in the room, humming as he stirred a pot over the fireplace, then Merlin would have just magicked the tear closed and been done with it. But he didn’t feel like getting in trouble with his mentor as well as the prince.
He stuck the needle through again, pulling it tight and placing the next stitch. One after the other, the soft noise of the tugging thread soothing his irritability a little.
“I see you didn’t resign then,” Gaius said, placing a bowl of thin stew and a chunk of bread in front of Merlin and gesturing at Arthur’s shirt.
“I should’ve,” Merlin muttered to himself grumpily, discarding the prince’s shirt on the bench beside him and pulling his bowl closer.
“How did this morning go?” Gaius asked delicately. “Did you perform your manservant’s duty?”
Merlin ground his teeth, then shoved a large spoonful of stew into his mouth so he couldn’t reply to Gaius’s question. Not that that stopped Gaius.
“Was the prince content with your ministrations?”
He made a noncommittal grunting noise, hoping that would be enough to deter Gaius from saying anything else. It wasn’t.
“It’s a very important job, Merlin, to expel the seed and alleviate his tension so he can get on with his day. A build up of seed is bad for the health.”
“Being a prat is bad for his health,” Merlin muttered to himself.
Gaius either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him, continuing with his lecture.
“The stimulation of his manhood will release any bad humours affecting his body, allowing him to be in both good health and a good mood. It is your duty and honour as his manservant to care for the wellness of him and his manhood.”
Merlin stuffed his mouth with bread, feeling his face burning and wishing very much that this conversation was not happening. That he wasn’t listening to Gaius talking about the prince’s hard cock. He concentrated on his dinner, trying to ignore the duelling emotions of embarrassment, annoyance and awkwardness about the whole situation. Chewing a piece of meat, which seemed to have the consistency of old leather, he let Gaius’s voice drone over him. Cringing every time Gaius said the words ‘manhood’ or ‘duty’.
At last Gaius seemed to recognise the strangled noise Merlin made for the mortification it was and stopped talking.
“As long as the prince is happy with your efforts,” he concluded. Sighing and waving a dismissive hand at Merlin.
Merlin grimaced and grunted again. They finished the rest of their dinner in silence.
“I’m going to bed,” he grumbled, pushing his bowl away. “Thanks for dinner.” Standing quickly, snatching up Arthur’s shirt, he stormed to his room. And slammed the door behind him.
Merlin slumped face first onto his bed, burying his head under his flat pillow. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, he really didn’t. Save someone’s life and end up stuck in the most embarrassing position imaginable for it. Except he seemed to be the only person that found it in the slightest bit embarrassing. How was everyone in Camelot so blasé about the idea?
The way Gaius talked it was like there was nothing sexual about it at all, like it was just another bodily function that had to be relieved, like having a piss. As far as Merlin was concerned, it was a pleasurable act performed by lovers, not servants.
How was he supposed to perform a duty like that to a prince he didn’t even like?
He heard Gaius tidying away the dinner things, putting candles out and stoking up the fire for the night. He felt a little guilty for storming out and not helping the old man with the evening chores. But he couldn’t go back out to the main chamber and face Gaius now.
Instead he rolled over on his bed, pushing aside his pillow, and huffed a miserable sigh. He had to find some way of solving this problem.
“Do you not ever take yourself in hand?” the prince had asked.
Merlin chewed a fingernail, considering. It wouldn’t hurt to spend a little time on himself. Practise makes perfect, after all.
He sat up on the bed, reaching to unbuckle his boots and pull them off, rolling his socks up and stuffing them inside the boots. He untied his neckerchief, dropping it onto the chest at the end of his bed. Then pulled his belt and tunic off, followed by his breeches, and carefully folded them, putting them on top of his neckerchief on the chest.
Then got back into bed, the thin blanket scratchy against his naked skin. He shivered. Unlike the prince, Merlin never normally slept naked, his room wasn’t warm like the prince’s chambers.
He felt a blush stain across his cheeks as he let his hand slide onto his stomach. Thinking about the prince while doing this was a little off-putting, it made it seem sordid. He bit his lip. His leg jiggled with nervous energy.
He stroked his fingertips along his stomach, getting lower and lower, brushing the hair that trailed up from his crotch. His breathing was already shuddery, the weight of expectation sitting on his shoulders in a way it never normally did when he was alone with his hand. But this wasn’t just for his own pleasure; this was research, it was rehearsal.
He moved his hand lower still, trying to calm his racing heart as his fingers reached the sensitive skin of his still soft cock. It twitched under his touch.
He thought about the prince, sitting propped up against his pillows, his sheets pushed down to show off his impressive morning glory – then quickly stopped thinking about the prince. Thinking about Arthur was just going to make things complicated; it might start blurring the line of duty. Making his silly head think there were feelings and desire involved. This was a job, nothing more.
Merlin shook his head firmly, trying to push away any more attractive thoughts of the prince and concentrating on what he was doing. Letting his magic flow through his fingers to warm them up, he wrapped his hand around himself, curling his fingers tight. He tried to coax his member to hardness, but nothing happened. He jerked his wrist.
It didn’t feel right.
His hand was too tense, his wrist rigid. He was too on edge. Just like he had been that morning. No wonder the prince hadn’t enjoyed his ministrations. He was too bloody nervous.
He pulled his hand away, shaking his arm to loosen the muscles then tried again. A few strokes, none of them feeling quite right and he let go again, growling quietly to himself. Normally he was so good at this. He could bring himself to the very brink of ecstasy in a matter of seconds if he was in a hurry. Or if he had the time to play he would slowly drag the heat and sensation up until he was moaning and writhing before tipping himself over the edge in a flurry of fingers across his body.
But today he was just so jittery, the weight of pressure at needing to get things right weighing his hand down. Scrabbling up the bed, he shoved the pillow behind his back and sat with his legs loosely crossed, hands cradled in his lap. Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his fingers once more around his member and stroked. The motion made him grimace and shift his hips, but his cock stayed resolutely limp.
He pulled his knees up and sat forwards, scrubbing his hands through his hair as he groaned. This was no good.
Deciding to give up trying, he slid from the bed and pulled his nightshirt on, ignoring how dissatisfaction seemed to squirm unpleasantly in his belly. He dug his fingers into his thigh in annoyance. There was a tightness in his groin, achey and uncomfortable. But he couldn’t do anything about it. His sleep breeches chafed over the sensitive skin of his soft member as he pulled them on.
He couldn’t blame Arthur for being angry with him if this was how he felt in the morning after Merlin failed to satisfy him. He promised himself he would try harder tomorrow.
But now he felt like he needed to do something to calm his mind down a little before he tried to sleep. Creating a light with his magic to bob beside him, he pulled Arthur’s shirt – the thread and needle still dangling from the half repaired hole – onto his lap. The stitches were shoddy. He could definitely do better. And if he couldn’t manage his most important duty properly, the least he could do was complete the rest of his chores to the best of his ability.
Untangling the knot that the thread had worked itself into when he’d dumped the shirt on the bench earlier, he began unpicking his bad stitches. He smoothed the fabric against his knee and rethreaded the needle.
Chapter 4
Notes:
Warning – very very brief mention of underage sexual activity. Of course, in the context of this story it’s not actually sexual, but it is still underage so...
Chapter Text
Merlin opened the door, chewing on his lip as he did so. He was determined to do a good job today.
There was a scuffle from the bed and Merlin looked over to see the prince already awake, bright red and yanking the pillows and sheets over his lap.
“Sire?” Merlin asked cautiously, closing the door behind him and stepping further into the room. He put the jug and the prince’s breakfast down on the table.
“No. Get out!” Arthur shouted, anger rearing to cover embarrassment. “I don’t need you!”
He pulled a pillow closer, his eyes darting. Merlin narrowed his own eyes.
“But Arthur –”
“No. I had to take matters into my own hands, I –” He blushed further at his unfortunate choice of words, shame burning across his features. For it was incredibly shameful for a prince to have to take care of his own manhood. Another piece of this society that Merlin didn’t quite understand.
Taking the jug of water from the table, Merlin filled a goblet and took it to the flustered prince’s side. Arthur drank greedily, some of the water spilling down the side of his chin. The glistening droplets sliding over his jaw combined with the flushed skin and ruffled hair gave a soft, vulnerable edge to his masculine beauty. And Merlin couldn’t help reaching up and brushing the water droplets away with the back of his hand. Although, that just made Arthur try to slap his hand away.
His heart pounding at his own courage, Merlin pinned Arthur’s hand down beside him, removing the pillow from his lap and tugging the sheet away. His hard cock stood up against his stomach, straining and red. Arthur groaned.
“What are you doing?” he growled, dropping the empty goblet onto the bed beside him so he could try to pry Merlin’s fingers off his other hand.
“If you’d just stop being such a stuck-up prat and let me perform my duty…” Merlin said, reaching towards the prince.
“But you’re an idiot,” Arthur complained, kicking his feet and shifting his hips back away from Merlin’s reaching hand. “You don’t even know how to…”
Making sure his eyes were averted from the prince, he let his magic warm his hand up to just the right temperature. Then slowly closed his fingers over the prince’s hard member. Arthur squirmed again, his eyebrows drawn down in a frown. He watched Merlin’s hand as it stroked gently up and down, then huffed in annoyance and pushed it away.
“Get off. Just let me do it myself.” He sounded upset, his whole face downcast and his hand shaking as it replaced Merlin’s wrapped around his cock. He shoved Merlin away from the bed. Merlin took a few steps backwards but continued to stare at the prince.
Arthur’s spare hand was fisted in the bedclothes beside him, his head turned away from Merlin’s gaze. He still looked uncomfortable. The hand on his manhood moved jerkily; he clearly wasn’t used to having to perform this act for himself. And while instinct guided his movements a little, he didn’t have the experience Merlin had of touching himself.
In three strides Merlin was back at the bedside, leaning down over the prince.
“You don’t know how to do this either, do you?” Merlin whispered, pulling Arthur’s hand off his manhood. Arthur yanked his hand from Merlin’s grip and folded his arms petulantly.
“I’ve never had to do it myself.” Arthur’s face twisted into a sneer. “Only commoners have to take care of themselves. Nobles have menservants. And up until now I’ve always had a bloody competent one!”
“I’m so sorry,” Merlin spat sarcastically, shame burning up his chest and turning to spite before he could stop it. “Poor spoilt little princeling brat.”
“You can’t speak to me like that!” Arthur shouted, cuffing Merlin around the side of the head. Merlin was too slow to duck. Shoving the sheets aside angrily, Arthur got up from his bed and stormed behind his dressing screen.
Merlin bit his lip. The spite drained from him at the sight of Arthur’s hunched shoulders, all the muscles down his back tense and strained. This was not going the way it should have, the way he’d planned. He hovered uncertainly, not sure if Arthur wanted his clothes or not.
“Get me some damn breeches!” Arthur yelled. Merlin hurried to do so, draping them over the screen where they were whipped from his grip.
After a few minutes, during which Merlin dithered by the dressing screen, Arthur emerged from behind the screen, breeches on but still bare-chested, and slumped into his chair. Merlin noticed with distress that the bulge in the front of his breeches was only that of a soft member. He’d failed the prince again.
Arthur pulled his breakfast plate towards him, stuffing a few tomatoes into his mouth and chewing without looking at Merlin. His eyes were red-rimmed and looked damp and it made Merlin’s heart sink with sympathy.
“I’m sorry, Arthur,” he said quietly, meaning it this time. Arthur sniffed and grunted.
He ate in silence for several minutes, Merlin shuffling around the room, stoking the fire and making the bed, trying not to show how flustered he was. He retrieved Arthur’s goblet and refilled it.
Eventually the prince finished his food and pushed the plate away. Merlin kept his back to him, pulling a fresh tunic from the wardrobe, until Arthur spoke.
“I’ve had a manservant doing it for me since I was twelve,” he said flatly. “On my eighteenth birthday, Father even paid off one of the nobles so I could have his manservant. He was apparently the best in the castle, after my father’s own manservant, of course.”
And there was an image Merlin didn’t need in his mind. He pulled a face.
“So why don’t you have him anymore? Why did you need me?” he asked, turning to meet Arthur’s eye.
Arthur sighed. “A couple of weeks ago, my father lost him in a gambling bet with his former master. Lord Bevior wanted him back and raised the stakes to include him in a wager over a horse race. My father’s horse threw a shoe.”
“That’s hardly fair that he’d bet with your manservant,” Merlin said indignantly.
“Don’t criticise the king, peasant,” Arthur growled, his hand curling into a fist on the table.
Merlin pressed his lips shut. This was the first time he and Arthur had managed anything along the lines of a civil conversation, he didn’t want to ruin it. Shoving his chair back from the table, the prince stood and wandered over to Merlin, holding his arms out for the tunic. Merlin hurriedly slid it over his arms and settled it across his shoulders.
“Since then I haven’t found anyone that is as satisfactory as him.” Arthur adjusted the front of his breeches self-consciously, shifting his hips to try and alleviate the obvious discomfort of his achingly unrelieved groin. “No one can make me spill like he did.”
“So you haven’t…” Merlin blushed, making a vague hand motion towards Arthur’s crotch, “… for a few weeks?” His face felt like it was burning.
“No.” Arthur’s own face was crimson too. “Father is worried about me – that’s why he hired you. It’s not healthy to go so long without a spill,” he whispered. He ran his hands through his hair, looking even more upset. “I can’t even” – he let out a disgusted sound from the back of his throat, waving a hand at his bed – “can’t even do it myself. I need a good manservant –”
Merlin stepped a little closer, his hands hovering between them, not sure what he was going to do, but wanting to ease the prince’s worry. His heart was racing with apprehension as he let the back of his fingers brush the cloth covering Arthur’s manhood, not looking at the prince. Arthur’s whole body seemed to sag a little and he let out a small whimper.
“Should I try again?” Merlin whispered anxiously.
Arthur drew in a sharp breath through his nose when Merlin pulled at the laces of his breeches. His hand slid back up into his own hair and he tugged it in frustration, his eyes fixed on the floor. Once the laces were undone, Merlin slid the breeches slightly down Arthur’s thighs so he could see his cock. It hung limply, nestled in the golden hair.
But now Merlin had got this far, he began to feel awfully awkward again. It didn’t feel right being so intimate with someone he barely knew, and hardly liked. His hand faltered, fingers twitching but not touching. His mouth was dry and his heartbeat thrumming in his ears.
His hesitation was clearly too much; Arthur staggered backwards and swatted at Merlin’s hand.
“You don’t know how,” he growled, the resentment back in his voice again.
“I can –” Merlin started, uncertainly reaching again, but Arthur cut him off with a shout.
“Stop it! You’re hopeless. You’ve never even been a manservant before.” He pushed Merlin away from himself. “What was Father thinking?!”
His hands dropped to his crotch, one cupping defensively around his limp manhood, the other fisting in the laces of his breeches. He turned away from Merlin, but Merlin noticed the back of his neck was bright red. Which Merlin’s face probably matched.
“I’m sorry, my lord.” Merlin bowed deeply, not sure what else he could do. Because he didn’t know how to be a good manservant. How to touch the prince in the right way. And he still wasn’t even sure if he wanted to.
Arthur grunted and tied his breeches back up. The two of them stayed, seemingly frozen, as the moment stretched out. Until eventually Arthur turned around. Merlin straightened from the bow, but kept his hands submissively behind his back.
“I will give you one final chance because there’s something about you…” Arthur frowned, his eyes roaming over Merlin the same way they had done that day in the market square after the fight. “If you do it wrong tomorrow, you’ll be chained in the stocks. And sacked.”
He dismissed Merlin with a wave of his hand. Merlin was only too happy to leave, embarrassed and ashamed.
Chapter 5
Notes:
If old people/parental figures talking about sex puts you off, you ain’t gonna like this chapter! 😂😂
Chapter Text
“MERLIN!”
Merlin looked up from the sticky herbs he was grinding into a pulp in the pestle and mortar. Gaius’s head jerked up from his mixing bowl as well and he fixed Merlin with a stare.
“MERLIN!” The shout echoed though the corridor outside the physician’s chambers again, getting louder.
“What have you done now?” Gaius asked despairingly.
“Nothing, I haven’t –” He shook his head, dropping the pestle and wiping his hands on his breeches just as the door burst open and a furious looking Arthur strode in.
“Where is my good-for-nothing manservant?” he shouted, then laid eyes on Merlin and stamped across the room to stand in front of him, hands on hips, leaning over the table Merlin was working at. “My glove has a hole in it.” He yanked at the glove that was tucked into his belt and slapped it down in front of Merlin.
“So?” Merlin snapped.
“So,” Arthur spat back. “You should have noticed and fixed it yesterday.”
Merlin picked up the offending glove; the seam between thumb and forefinger had split. He ran his finger over the edge, plucking at the loose thread.
A muscle in Arthur’s jaw ticked as he ground his teeth. There were two bright spots of red on his cheeks. He was clearly embarrassed about the vulnerability he had shown in their conversation that morning and was desperate to get their balance back. “I want it fixed. Now.”
Merlin very much wanted to snap that he was busy helping Gaius now, and that he’d get to the glove later, it’s not like Arthur would need it tonight anyway. But the shred of self-preservation just clinging to the back of his mind made him nod instead.
“Of course, my lord,” he said in a monotone. “I’ll get right on it.”
“You’d better,” Arthur growled. He turned and stomped across the room before Merlin could say anything else, spinning on his heel before he got to the door and jabbing a finger at Merlin. “Prove you’re not utterly worthless,” he gritted out. His flinty eyes locked on Merlin for a few seconds before he stormed out of the room.
Gaius raised one eyebrow as the prince slammed the door. He turned to frown at Merlin.
“What?” Merlin whined. His eyes flashed golden as he glared at Arthur’s glove, the torn seam mending instantly.
For once, Gaius didn’t comment on his casual use of magic. Instead he continued frowning, gesturing to the closed door.
“He’s not happy.”
“Yes. I saw that.” Throwing the glove down, Merlin folded his arms on the table, dropping his head onto them.
Gaius sat down opposite him, pushing the pestle and mortar to the side and putting a hand on Merlin’s arm.
“There’s a lot of unresolved tension there.”
“Is there?” Merlin growled into his arms, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Are you performing your duty properly?”
“I wish you would just shut up about duty!” Merlin yelled, pushing his stool back and almost tripping over it in the process. He stamped up the steps to his room, slamming the door behind him. Then collapsed onto his bed.
Unsurprisingly, a few seconds later Gaius pushed the door open and came in, sitting beside Merlin on the bed. He sighed.
“What’s bothering you, my boy?”
“I can’t do it,” he muttered into the pillow.
“Do what?”
“My… duty. My manservant’s duty. I can’t do it.” He punched the bed next to him and pushed himself into a sitting position.
“Why not?” Gaius asked calmly.
“Because!” Merlin exploded, throwing his hands up in the air. When Gaius didn’t say anything Merlin dropped his hands back to his knees and spoke in a quiet voice. “Because, it’s too awkward. I’m not his lover, I can’t touch him like that.”
“You don’t have to be his lover, Merlin. That isn’t what the job requires. You’re not there to arouse him and pleasure him – that’s what whores are for –” Merlin squeaked and buried his blushing face in his hands. “You’re just there to relieve him.”
Merlin felt like his face was on fire. How was everyone in Camelot so bloody blasé about sex?
“Yes! ‘Relieve him’.” He screwed his hands up into fists and grimaced. “By stroking his… his royal prick!” he shouted. “By touching him and caressing him and –”
“Merlin,” Gaius tried to cut in but Merlin kept ranting.
“– pleasuring him! I can’t do that, Gaius, I can’t.”
“Merlin. Listen to me.”
Letting his shoulders slump and burying his head in his hands again, Merlin made a vague noise in his throat.
“Morning glory is very different from sexual arousal,” Gaius said, his voice the same calm explanatory tone that he used when trying to teach Merlin about medicine. “He’s not aroused. He doesn’t need sex. He just needs someone to help relieve him of the build up of seed, and balance his mood. How can you expect the prince to go about his day with all the responsibilities and obligations he has if he is tense, frustrated or unhappy?”
“How can you expect me to go about my day with all my bloody chores if I’ve died from embarrassment because I touched my master’s cock and made him spill?” Merlin’s voice was shrill, his face burning and his hands sweaty.
“It’s not something you need be embarrassed about.”
“It is,” Merlin insisted stubbornly.
Gaius sighed. “You’ve emptied the prince’s chamber pot, have you not?”
He pulled a face. “That’s different.”
“No, it isn’t. That is an expulsion of bodily fluid to keep the bladder healthy. Helping him release is merely another expulsion to keep his manhood healthy and his mind free from frustration.”
Merlin cringed and squirmed with disgust. Emptying the chamber pot was definitely not top of his list of favourite chores. But at least he could do it when the prince had left the room; he didn’t have to look at him while he did it. He could ignore what it actually was he was doing, and they could both pretend it didn’t happen.
Relieving his morning glory on the other hand… Arthur’s half-lidded eyes, hazy from having only just woken, gazing at him. The hot flush of his skin, still sleep warm and soft. His rather glorious member, ready and waiting for a touch… Merlin gulped, a traitorous blush rushing up his neck to cover his cheeks at the thought of the prince’s hard manhood. He forcibly dragged his mind away and back to what Gaius was saying – although he soon wished he hadn’t.
“– important for good health,” Gaius was saying. “As a commoner you are expected to take care of your own manhood, and I know you do so. Don’t deny it, my boy,” Gaius said when Merlin made a particularly squeaky splutter of embarrassment. “I remember being your age and barely being able to keep my hands off myself.”
Merlin grimaced at the idea of Gaius ever touching himself the way Merlin touched himself. He shuddered and Gaius gave him a raised eyebrow look.
“Stop being silly,” Gaius said when Merlin made a disgusted noise. “It is a natural human function. Everybody needs it.”
“Doesn’t mean I want to think about everybody doing it.”
“You don’t have to think about everybody. Only the prince. He is not so lucky as you. It would be a disgrace for him to have to do such things himself. And so he needs someone to perform the act for him.”
“Can’t he get a lover? Why does it have to be a manservant doing it?”
“Having a lover is inappropriate for a prince. And as I already said, Merlin, it’s not about sex. It is a manservant’s duty.”
Merlin sighed, resigned to the idea that he couldn’t wiggle out of this on a technicality.
“It still doesn’t feel right for me to be so intimate with him.”
“The entirety of a manservant’s role is intimacy with his master. You dress him, wash him. This is just one more task to care for him.”
Staring blankly at the floor at his feet, Merlin scrubbed his hands backwards and forwards through his hair. He took a deep breath. Bit his lip. “I can’t satisfy him…”
“It is simple enough to do, Merlin. Just wrap your hand around his manhood and stroke him to completion.” Gaius’s hand curled in demonstration.
“Ugh! Enough!” Merlin shouted and put his hands over his ears. “Please Gaius!”
Gaius held his hands up in defeat, shaking his head fondly. He patted Merlin’s leg and said, “It’s a very important job, Merlin.” Before getting up and leaving the room.
Merlin flopped backwards across his bed, his head dangling off the other side and stared at the upside-down window.
Chapter Text
The next morning, Merlin strode purposely into Arthur’s chambers. He deposited the plate of food on the table and the washbowl on the stand, then bit his lip and glanced over at the bed. The prince was still asleep, rolled onto his side, his face squashed into the pillow.
Merlin crept closer, trying to see if he could make out the shape of his member through the blankets. To see if his morning glory had risen or not. But the angle of Arthur’s hips meant that the blanket skimmed smoothly down from his hip to the mattress below in a gentle slope that concealed the front of his groin.
What if he didn’t wake with morning glory today? Was Merlin then expected to bring him to hardness so he could relieve him? Or was that a sign that he didn’t need the release that day?
Ever so carefully, Merlin tucked his fingers into the top of Arthur’s blanket, lifting it up from his shoulder and trying to peer underneath it. Because Arthur’s back was to the window, the light didn’t quite filter into the hollow of blankets over his front and Merlin couldn’t make out any shapes. He lifted the blanket a little higher.
Arthur shifted, the change in temperature as his blankets were removed stirring him from sleep. The blanket slipped from Merlin’s hand as he stumbled back, his face flaming at the thought of being caught snooping so pervertedly. But not before he saw the telltale bob of Arthur’s stiff member against his stomach.
Part of him wanted to run from the room before Arthur woke up, but the prince’s threats of stocks and flogging still hung in his mind. As did his vulnerable, anxious expression when he’d told Merlin how long it had been since he’d last spilled. And Merlin really did want to take that worry away from him.
He set his jaw in determination. He could do this. It was simple. Like Gaius had said. Just a perfunctory tug, tug, tug and release. Relieve him of the tension and anxiety so he could get on with the day. Don’t think too much and he’d be fine. He let his magic warm his hands, rubbing his fingers into his palms.
Swallowing around his suddenly dry tongue, he went to the window and opened the curtains. Light streamed into the room, bathing the sleeping prince in soft sunlight, his hair shining like spun gold. The image was beautiful and Merlin couldn’t help feeling a little better. If he had to perform such an intimate act for an almost stranger, at least he was an incredibly attractive one.
Arthur groaned and rolled onto his back, one hand shoving into his hair to brush the few strands that had stuck to his forehead off. He gave a tremendous yawn and blinked his eyes open. Staring up at the canopy of his bed for a moment before his head flopped to the side to look at Merlin. An apprehensive frown crossed his face as soon as he spotted Merlin nervously twisting his fingers together by the side of the bed. Then his gaze slid down his own body to the, now very obvious, tent in the blankets.
Merlin took a step closer. “I won’t fail you today, your Highness.”
Arthur’s eyes jumped from his tented blanket back to Merlin and his jaw clenched slightly. Hesitantly he pushed the blanket down his chest, pausing when it got to his hips and gulping. He moved to push up onto his elbows and sit up but Merlin put a hand on his stomach.
“No, stay there, just lie back…” Merlin whispered.
Arthur’s hands curled into fists and his stomach muscles tensed under Merlin’s hand as he tried to lie still. He near flinched when Merlin drew the covers away and his member bounced free. His breathing shallow and fast.
Merlin’s wasn’t much different either. He concentrated on taking slow breaths to calm his nerves as he reached for Arthur’s manhood. The whimper that left Arthur’s mouth was shaky, but cut off abruptly when he bit his lip.
Keeping the pressure of his hand quite light, Merlin began carefully stroking. Arthur’s breath hitched. But he didn’t tell Merlin to stop or push him away so he must have been doing something right, at last. He quickened the pace of his hand.
Arthur’s cock was hot; velvety skin sliding down the solid shaft, long and thick, and Merlin couldn’t take his eyes off it slipping through his fingers. His stomach was coiling, the stirring of desire tingling in his groin. His silly mind was getting confused again. This wasn’t supposed to make him feel so excited. This wasn’t for his pleasure, he reminded himself.
He twisted his hand, fingers tightening and Arthur grunted. Merlin’s eyes shot to Arthur’s face to see if it was a happy grunt or an annoyed one. But he couldn’t quite tell; Arthur was grimacing, his eyes squeezed shut.
Loosening his grip slightly, he watched Arthur’s face carefully. The prince’s jaw clenched. Was that a good sign? He still hadn’t pushed Merlin away…
Merlin kept stroking, tugging faster and Arthur’s cock throbbed in response. That was enough of a sign that his efforts were working physically, even if Arthur wasn’t quite enjoying the experience. He wasn’t trying to make Arthur feel good; that wasn’t his job. He was just relieving him. Spilling his seed. That was it.
With a faltering moan, his cheeks red with embarrassment, Arthur dragged the second pillow from beside him on the bed and covered his face. His hand gripped tightly into the pillow. Now that he couldn’t see the prince’s face, Merlin actually found it a little easier to concentrate. He stroked faster, focusing only on what his hand was doing.
After a short while, Arthur shifted his hips and Merlin pressed down with the hand on his stomach, holding him still, then changed the speed of his movements.
But when the prince’s cock gave a telltale pulse as he began to spill, Merlin snatched his hands away quickly, almost tripping on his feet as he stumbled away from the bed, flustered heat working up his face, no doubt making his ears red.
Arthur’s back arched, his knuckles turning white from the strength of his grip on the pillow and the sheet, as he tipped over the edge of release. A small sticky dribble spurted from the tip of his cock, lightly splattering his stomach. He gave a deep throated groan that sounded just on the side of frustration rather than pleasure. Merlin grimaced.
Shoving the pillow away from his face, Arthur lifted his head and looked down at his spent member. He studied it for a moment, one finger trailing just past the mess on his stomach. It looked like unshed tears had brimmed in his eyes. He grunted again, and still Merlin couldn’t tell what it meant.
Merlin’s heart was racing; had he done a good enough job? He’d succeeded in making him spill… but he definitely didn’t look as blissed out as Merlin usually did after taking care of himself.
Flopping back onto the bed and throwing one hand over his face – surreptitiously trying to wipe his eyes – Arthur pointed to the washbowl in the corner of the room, clicking his fingers impatiently.
“Wash me.”
Merlin huffed, but darted over to get the washcloth nevertheless. He wrung it out and brought it back to the bed. Dabbing at Arthur’s stomach and hips, wiping him clean, and then running the cloth over his manhood as well. Arthur was clearly unused to the oversensitivity of a spent cock and his eyes flew open with a sharp cry before he slapped Merlin’s hands away.
“Ow!” He pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing again as his softening member brushed against his thigh. The tears he’d tried to push back now burst from his blue eyes and he quickly pulled his legs up to his chest and buried his face in his knees.
Merlin bit his lip and reached a hand for his shoulder but Arthur just punched Merlin in the chest without looking up. “Get out!” he demanded, his voice breaking halfway through the words.
Not sure what else he could do, and thoroughly mortified, Merlin dropped a quick bow and turned to hurry out of the room.
“That went well,” he muttered to himself as he caught one last look at the sobbing prince before he tugged the doors to the prince’s chamber closed behind himself.
For the rest of the day he barely saw the prince. Arthur didn’t even ask for him when he went to bed. Merlin chewed his lip as he sat in his own bed that night, after having been turned away by another servant when he’d tried to go up to Arthur’s chambers. Arthur was obviously angry with him. And it was obviously because of that morning.
Merlin hadn’t failed him this time, but he hadn’t properly satisfied him either.
Arthur had found his technique lacking.
Only one solution seemed to present itself to solve that problem…
He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers, clenching them into fists and clicking his knuckles. If he just concentrated on the things he liked, maybe tomorrow morning he could translate some of those actions to Arthur and hopefully please him a little better. The idea of pleasing Arthur sent a surprising flutter through his stomach, tingling down low in his belly. Before he could over-think it he let his hand slide down into the front of his sleep breeches and curl around his cock.
Heat began to pool in his groin as his body responded to his touch. A few deft strokes brought him to full hardness. He let out a relieved puff of a sigh; already a better start than last time. Now, to just bring himself to completion in the way he wanted to do to the prince…
He let the image of Arthur’s thick manhood sliding between his fingers filter into his mind – purely for research purposes; to think about the size of him, the way his hand wrapped around the hot hard flesh. His stomach gave an aroused flip, his member twitching at the thought and Merlin slammed the image out of his mind again. That was a bad idea. That would only make tomorrow more awkward.
He shook his head. Then let go of himself so he could kick his sleep breeches off under his blankets. He rolled his shoulders, shaking his arms and letting the muscles relax and limber up. Then lay down and closed his eyes. He gently cupped himself, running his thumb slowly along his shaft.
After a few moments he increased the pressure of his thumb, curling the rest of his fingers around as well. He let out a long sigh. His hand moved slightly faster.
His other hand slid up onto his chest, his fingertips ghosting over his ribs, then along his jutting collarbone. He pulled his lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it as a moan began building at the back of his throat. The hand on his cock was moving faster now, twisting and squeezing ever so gently.
He let his roaming hand glide up the smooth skin of his neck, fisting in a handful of hair, tugging it, letting his nails scrape his scalp. His hips were shifting, moving in time with his hand. It felt so good. Letting go of the grip in his hair, he raised his arm above his head, pressing his hand solidly against the wall behind him as he threw his head back.
His feet began slowly kicking, his heels sinking into the mattress, trying to get purchase to lift his hips up off the bed. Pressing further into his hand, which he moved faster and stronger, pulling the pleasure from deep within his groin.
His whole body was hot, he could feel the flush rising up his chest. White searing heat was coiling in the pit of his stomach.
He was close. All of the muscles in his legs tightened, his thighs were screaming. He ran his hand over his thigh, squeezing and pinching as he gripped it so hard. Then pulled the hand up, stroking the crook where his leg met his groin, brushing past the other hand moving so wonderfully up and down his shaft.
Hips bucking, hand moving fast, teeth clamped down on his lip, he arched up off the bed. The hot spurts of his release seared against the skin of his chest and stomach. His toes curled as he let out a long hum of satisfaction, trying to keep as quiet as he could.
He collapsed back onto the bed afterwards, panting. That had not lasted as long as he’d hoped. Never mind, it had still felt good.
Warmth was coursing pleasantly throughout his body, his heart skipping a happy beat. He couldn’t stop the smile that lazily spread over his lips. If only he could make Arthur feel the way he felt now…
Hopefully, tomorrow he would be able to.
Chapter 7
Notes:
Finally things are starting to get a little better for Merlin and Arthur!! Hope you enjoy this chapter!!
Chapter Text
Arthur was already awake when Merlin got there the next morning. He was sitting up, fiddling with the blanket in his lap, which was pooled around his hips, his morning glory jutting up in front of him and lifting the sheets with it.
“Good morning, your Highness,” Merlin said, as calm and as friendly as he could manage.
Arthur swallowed. “Merlin.” His voice was hard but with an edge of apprehension.
Putting down Arthur’s breakfast, water jug and washbowl, Merlin made his way over to the bed, hands fisted in the ends of his sleeves. By the time he got to Arthur’s side, the prince had pushed his blankets away and leant slightly awkwardly back on his pillows. Looking up at Merlin from under lowered brows.
Fishing in his pocket, Merlin pulled out a little bottle. After another very awkward conversation with Gaius, in which Gaius had smiled all too knowingly and complimented Merlin on finally taking his duties seriously, he had obtained what Gaius called a classic manservant’s oil of diluted rose otto and vetiver. With a raised eyebrow and a comment about Arthur’s anger and tension, Gaius had added a few drops of sandalwood oil as well before handing it to Merlin.
He unstoppered the bottle and poured a little into the palm of his hand. Rubbing his hands together to smooth the oil over his fingers and warm it up. Once his hand was slick, he wrapped it around Arthur’s manhood. Arthur inhaled sharply at the sensation, then blinked and inhaled again with a small smile at the pleasant scent of the oil.
“That’s different from my last manservant’s oil,” he commented in surprise.
“Do you like it?”
Arthur only hummed, but Merlin took it for affirmation when the prince sniffed again and closed his eyes, settling back on his pillow.
He began with long slow strokes, from the base of his shaft right to the tip, the oil making his hand slip easily. Arthur didn’t complain. Biting his lip and trying to keep his breathing even, Merlin kept his hand moving at a steady pace. The sigh that Arthur let out sounded content and Merlin allowed himself a small smile. Finally. Finally he was doing something right.
He continued with the gentle upwards glide of his hand, smoothing over the hot silky skin of Arthur’s member. His other hand trembled a little and he curled it into the end of his sleeve so Arthur wouldn’t notice.
The atmosphere in the room was just on the edge of uncomfortable, just this side of strange. But Merlin was determined to do everything possible to keep the awkwardness from the situation. He concentrated on the slightly irregular rise and fall of Arthur’s chest, the way he could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped.
Merlin twisted his hand, jerking Arthur at a slightly different angle. Arthur grunted, shifting his hips backwards and pushing at Merlin’s hand.
“No. I don’t like that.”
“What do you like?” Merlin whispered, stopping moving his hand and loosening his grip.
Arthur gave a whimper, his eyes screwed shut and his cheeks burning.
“I don’t know, I –” He squirmed and one fist slammed down into the mattress beside him in frustration. His jaw was clenched again, irritation burning in his eyes when he glared at Merlin as if it was Merlin’s fault that he didn’t know what he liked.
Worried that the prince was about to push him away again, Merlin let his thumb run soothingly over the base of Arthur’s cock. Ignoring the heat that bloomed over his cheeks and up the tips of his ears. He gulped.
“What, uh, did your last manservant do?” he asked. “The one you liked, I mean.”
Arthur frowned, obviously not expecting the question. He waved a hand around vaguely, encapsulating Merlin’s hand.
“Like you were doing earlier,” he admitted.
Merlin returned to the long slow strokes again. “Like this?”
Arthur’s head thunked back on the headboard behind him. “Uh huh.”
Merlin nodded and continued stroking, letting his fingers glide over the silky skin, drawing a pleased sigh from Arthur. He was happy to see that Arthur’s hands had loosened their vicelike grip on the sheet, his fingers uncurling and splaying calmly on the bed either side of him.
“Is that all he did?” Merlin asked. He seemed to be going in the right direction; emulating the last manservant who had successfully handled the prince. Hopefully if he could just get Arthur to talk through everything the other man had done, he’d be able to copy and receive similar results.
“Um, well, he got faster as he went,” Arthur started, his eyes fluttering back open again. “And when I was ready to spill he’d bring his other hand under and cup my balls too.”
“Oh.” Merlin’s cheeks flushed at the nonchalant way Arthur explained it, as if that was not an intimate or erotic action at all. “Um, and did he touch you anywhere else?” he asked, trying not to let the embarrassment seep into his voice.
“No.” Arthur shook his head. “Why?”
“To… make it… feel better.” Merlin tried to stop the nervous laugh that bubbled up his throat.
A frown pulled Arthur’s brow down again and he chewed on his chapped bottom lip. He looked like he wanted to say something but was holding back. Eventually he made a little inviting movement with one hand and croaked, “Show me.”
“Oh…” Merlin uttered, getting flustered. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it; he was only supposed to relieve the prince, not pleasure him, after all.
Shifting his hips a little, Arthur looked up to meet Merlin’s gaze. The blue had almost gone from his eyes, overtaken by his wide lust-blown pupils. Merlin’s stomach flipped and he could feel his heart beating fast.
“You take yourself in hand, don’t you?” Arthur whispered, his eyes flicking over to Merlin’s crotch.
“Um… Yes, I –” Merlin’s voice stuck in his suddenly dry throat.
“Show me what you do to yourself,” Arthur ordered, his voice the tiniest bit shaky.
“Oh –” That seemed to be the only word Merlin’s flustered mind could summon up. He gulped. “Can I –?” he gestured down at the bed.
Arthur nodded, his dark eyes half-lidded as he sank backwards into his pillows. Merlin perched on the edge of the bed, giving him better reach at Arthur’s body.
“Go ahead…”
“Um, oh, er, well…” Merlin gave a small nervous chuckle. “While this hand does… this” – he kept the pace with his right hand, rubbing up and down Arthur’s hot, hard member – “I, uh, I run this hand…” He ran his left hand over Arthur’s thigh, putting just a slight pressure, brushing through the soft golden hairs that dusted over the strong muscles.
“Oh-h,” Arthur’s voice cracked halfway through the word, his breath hitching.
“Um, do you like that?”
Arthur made a noise halfway between a hum and a whimper, his hips shifting forwards on the bed towards Merlin’s hands. That caused Merlin fumble a little, his hand slipping off of Arthur’s member.
“Sorry,” he stuttered, quickly wrapping his hand back around it. Sliding his other hand up Arthur’s thigh, he dipped into the crook where his leg met his groin, his still slightly oily fingers dragging through dark gold curls and onto his hip.
Arthur gulped and gave a little moan. Merlin couldn’t help noticing that he very much enjoyed hearing Arthur make such noises. And it only made him redouble his efforts, his left hand skimming up to trail over Arthur’s stomach as his right kept pumping. The series of soft noises Arthur let out as Merlin’s long fingers left feather light touches along his ribs spurred Merlin on even more, the tingling of desire building in his own groin. A small grin tugging at his lips now, he changed the speed of his right hand. Pulling another groan from Arthur.
Emboldened, he ran his hand up Arthur’s chest, sliding around his shoulder and up his neck. He buried his fingers in the soft, sweat-damp hair just behind his ear, curling them into it.
It made Arthur squirm and shake his head. “No.”
Abashed, Merlin let his hand drop from the prince’s hair as if it had been burned. His stomach gave an uncomfortable twist, reminding him of the awkwardness of what he was doing. His hand faltered, the rhythm he had built up on Arthur’s manhood wavering. He could feel his ears getting hot. He ducked his head in embarrassment.
“Sorry. Shall I –?”
“No, no… Don’t… stop!” Arthur panted, gritting his teeth and screwing his eyes shut. The muscles in his stomach and thighs had all clenched.
Trying to force the lump that had formed in his throat down, Merlin gulped and resumed the pace of his hand. Arthur whined. After a moment, Merlin gathered his courage and put his left hand back on Arthur’s chest again; he’d seemed to like that. He let his fingers trail up and down his sternum, a soft barely there touch on the way up making Arthur shiver, then more pressure and the gentlest scrape of his nails on the way back down.
“Yes…” Arthur whispered, so quietly Merlin wasn’t even sure he hadn’t imagined it. He arched his back slightly away from the pillows, pressing his chest into Merlin’s hand.
A few more firm strokes and Arthur’s manhood throbbed, his release imminent. Merlin wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. He didn’t want to yank them away like he had yesterday; that was one of the things that had annoyed Arthur, he was sure of it. Then he remembered what Arthur had said earlier about his last manservant.
He took his left hand away from Arthur’s chest and lowered it between his legs, ever so gently cupping it around his balls.
He felt his sac tighten and then Arthur was shouting, hips arching up into Merlin’s hands as he spilled in long spurts all across his chest, much more forcefully than he had the day before. When he’d finished he let out an ecstatic cry and collapsed against his pillows.
Carefully, Merlin took his hands back, feeling sticky wetness between his fingers. Giving an embarrassed cough, he slid off the edge of the bed and scurried over to the washbowl, avoiding looking at the prince as he came back down from his high. Merlin’s heart was hammering against his ribs, his stomach coiling with desire and his own manhood uncomfortably hard in his breeches. His whole body seemed to be vibrating with aroused magic.
His back to the bed, he dunked his hands into the washbowl, his magic bursting from his fingers in excited, sparking flutters, bringing the temperature of the water up to boiling in a fraction of a second. He snatched his hands back out before they got scolded and glared at the water. Feeling his eyes glow, it returned to a reasonable warm temperature.
He spent a moment focussing on trying to remember the list of herbs Gaius had been sorting through last night, tugging at the front of his breeches to will his erection away. Once he had himself back under control, he wetted the washcloth and went back over to Arthur.
The prince was staring disbelievingly up at the canopy of his bed, a blissful expression on his face. His chest stained with a dark flush beneath the white sticky streaks, rising and falling rapidly. Merlin couldn’t help feeling rather pleased with himself.
“That was much better,” Arthur panted, pushing his hair up off his sweaty forehead with one hand. “Not that it could have got any worse.”
“I’m a fast learner.” Merlin shrugged, wiping his hands with the washcloth and not looking at Arthur.
“I hope, for your sake, that’s true.”
Arthur closed his eyes as Merlin began washing his chest and stomach, all of his muscles floppy.
He’d just finished when Arthur’s hand shot out, closing around Merlin’s wrist. He held tight, Merlin’s arm going white from the pressure of his fingers. Looking up, he saw that Arthur’s eyes were dark and an emotion Merlin couldn’t quite place swirled in their depths. For a second Merlin thought maybe he was about to be told off again. But then Arthur let go and lay back against the headboard again. “Breakfast now?” he drawled.
“Uh, yes, my lord. Of course.” Merlin bowed. Some of the awkward tension between the two of them seemed to have lifted. He smiled.
Chapter 8
Notes:
Hey! Sorry it's a little late today, I didn't realise it was Wednesday today until just now!
This is the last chapter (apart from an epilogue on Saturday) so hopefully you'll all enjoy the happy ending (just like Arthur did 😉😉)
Chapter Text
There was almost a bounce in Arthur’s step as he walked onto the training field later that afternoon. Merlin couldn’t help feeling rather pleased as he hurried along behind him, carrying his armour and his sword. Relishing the fact that for the first time since he’d entered Arthur’s service, he had not been shouted at once so far today.
“Right, you lot!” Arthur called to the assembled knights. He grinned. “Let’s see who’s ready for the tournament next week! Line up…” He waved a hand at the practice ground.
As the knights all hurried into their positions, stretching their arms and swinging their swords, Arthur clicked his fingers at Merlin, but not in a demanding way. Merlin dumped the various pieces of armour on the table by the weapons’ rack and lifted the chainmail.
Arthur didn’t flinch this time as Merlin’s hands grazed over his chest and arms as he helped him into the armour. Instead he offered a satisfied nod, lifting his hands one at a time for Merlin to fasten his vambraces around. He almost came close to saying ‘thank you’ as well, but cut himself off just before he did so.
“My sword?” he said pointedly when Merlin grinned at him.
“Oh yeah!” Merlin pulled it from the sheath and handed it to him.
Rolling his eyes, the prince took it and wandered over to the waiting knights, swinging the blade around his wrist. He dropped into his fighting stance at the head of the row of knights, smirking and playfully beckoning to the one at the front of the line. “Come on…”
Merlin looked on happily as the first knight stepped forward, swinging a blow at Arthur, who easily parried it and struck his own counter hit. They danced through several more lunges and parries and dodges, swords flashing in the sun, until the knight was on his back in the grass. With a chuckle, Arthur leant down to grasp his forearm and pull him up, slapping his back heartily. He gave a couple of comments about footwork and posture that Merlin didn’t understand then waved forward the next knight in the line.
Each knight was treated to the same quick spar, followed by compliments and appraisal from Arthur, and each one received a friendly thump on the back from the smiling prince.
Merlin watched it all with a barely restrained grin. Who knew all it would take to stop the prince being quite so much of an insufferable prat was a good wank?
“You figured it out then, I see?” One of the knights – the one who had talked to him the other day – and Merlin should probably start trying to learn their names – sidled up to Merlin, arms crossed as he looked at Arthur with a smirk. He punched Merlin in the arm. “Atta boy.”
“I, uh, yeah…” Merlin said, pulling an embarrassed face.
“It shows,” the knight said sagely, gesturing with his chin over at Arthur just as he performed a graceful move that left his opponent toppling to the ground, the knight’s disarmed sword in Arthur’s left hand.
Arthur threw his head back in a triumphant laugh, the sun shining on his golden hair and lighting it up like a halo around his head. The smile that stretched across his face was enough to make Merlin beam with pride. His heart fluttered at the beauty of the prince.
Jabbing the knight’s sword into the ground, Arthur raised his hand in acknowledgement as a few of the other knights applauded. Merlin clapped along eagerly as well. The defeated knight was hauled to his feet and Arthur practically crowed with laughter as he wrapped an arm around the knight’s shoulders and scrubbed his knuckles into his hair. He pushed him away jovially then motioned the next man forwards.
The defeated knight came over to the weapons’ rack, rolling his shoulder and stretching his sword arm, looking back over his shoulder at Arthur.
“Finally,” he commented to the knight still standing by Merlin. “God, he’s needed that for a while.” He glanced over at Merlin, looking him up and down in consideration. “I guess we can thank you for his good mood, eh, boy?” he said.
Merlin’s face flushed crimson. He still found it particularly strange how blasé everyone was about the manservant’s duty. The fact that what he had done to Arthur that morning was not only common knowledge, but was a sign that he was doing his job properly.
“Uh, thanks,” he muttered, not sure what else he could say.
The knights both laughed. “Keep up the good work,” one said before they strolled away, leaving Merlin a flustered mess.
He turned his back on the training field, fiddling with a loose bit of leather on the handle of one of the swords in the rack. Pressing the back of one cold hand against his cheeks to try and cool them down a little. He wanted to shrink into the ground.
He focussed on tidying the weapon’s rack, turning the swords so they all hung exactly parallel to each other and making sure all of the blades were clean. It helped to pass the time and meant he could ignore the clashing of swords and the jubilant sounds of the knights and Arthur behind him.
“That’ll do for today,” he heard Arthur call eventually and turned back to look at the training field. Arthur shoved his sword into his belt and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “Well done.” He dismissed the knights with a wave of his hand before making his way to Merlin. “I need to go up to my chambers,” he said without preamble, grabbing a fistful of Merlin’s jacket sleeve and tugging.
“I’ll just finish –” Merlin started, his eyes darting over the weapons’ rack again.
“Now, Merlin.”
Merlin dropped the cloth he had been polishing swords with and followed quickly before Arthur succeeded in ripping the sleeve from his jacket. Once Merlin fell into step beside him, Arthur let go of his jacket and quickened his pace.
As they made their way away from the training field and into the castle, Merlin noticed Arthur was walking a little stiffly, one hand on the front hem of his chainmail. There were two patches of pink on his cheeks, but Merlin chalked that up to the exertion of training.
They walked in silence, but for the clink of metal from Arthur’s sword tapping against the chainmail over his thigh. They were almost up to the royal wing of the castle by the time Arthur cleared his throat and shot a quick glance at Merlin.
“I’ve been thinking –”
“I wasn’t aware you did that, Sire,” Merlin said before he could stop himself.
The prince cuffed him hard around the back of the head, a small frown creasing his brow. “You can’t talk to me like that.”
“Someone has to.”
Arthur stopped walking, the frown deeply embedded in his forehead now. Fearing he’d taken it a little too far, Merlin stopped too and pressed his lips together forcefully, not looking at Arthur. After fixing him with a long glare, long enough for Merlin to start twisting his fingers together nervously, Arthur turned away and continued walking back up the stairs towards his chambers. Merlin scrambled to follow him.
Arthur didn’t say anything else until they got back to his chambers, where he kicked his boots off and undid his belt, tossing the belt, and sword, to Merlin, who gave a little cry of protest and barely managed to catch them without slicing his fingers on the sharp blade.
“Help me,” Arthur ordered, gesturing to the pauldron on his shoulder.
Dumping the sword onto the table, Merlin stepped forward and began unbuckling the straps holding the armour in place.
“I was thinking,” Arthur ground out through gritted teeth, and his hand tightened around the hem of his chainmail, “about how effectively you performed your duty this morning…”
That hadn’t been what Merlin was expecting. He blushed and shrugged, putting the pauldron and vambraces down on the table too.
“I told you I’m not entirely useless.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Arthur grumbled.
He lifted his arms for Merlin to take the chainmail, and as it slid away from his body, Merlin noticed the bulge in the front of his breeches.
“Oh!”
Arthur cleared his throat again. “Yes, well… it seems I require you to… do your duty again.”
That explained why he’d been walking stiffly off the practice field and clutching at his chainmail; no doubt the weight of the armour had been pressing his breeches down against his sensitive hard member.
He gave Merlin a keen look then went and sat on the edge of his bed. Merlin had no choice but to follow him. Not that he minded; butterflies had started squirming in his stomach as soon as he’d spotted the large tent that Arthur’s manhood had made of his breeches.
Not giving Arthur time to issue an order, he dropped to his knees beside the bed, hands lifting to Arthur’s groin. Untying the laces, Merlin just pushed the front of Arthur’s breeches to the sides and pulled his manhood out, not taking his breeches off. Arthur opened his mouth, probably to complain, but Merlin curled his hand around him before he could do so and instead Arthur just let out a moan. Pumping his hand in quick strokes, Merlin slid his other hand onto Arthur’s clothed thigh. He’d made a mental note of everything that had made Arthur groan that morning and hoped to recreate the same effects now.
Arthur braced his hands on the mattress behind him, leaning back a fraction to tilt his hips up towards Merlin’s hand.
Trying to keep his slightly smug smile in check, Merlin rubbed across Arthur’s thigh, his fingers tangling in the untied laces. Then over his hip, sliding his hand – and Arthur’s shirt – up his side. He wrapped his fingers around his torso, fingertips pressing in just below his shoulder blade, palm flush against the warm sensitive skin over the side of his ribs, holding the shirt up and away from his crotch. And moving his right hand faster.
Arthur was clearly rather worked up; he only lasted for a few long tugs, before spilling messily with a shout, hips bucking, head thrown back.
His heart beating a rapid staccato, belly coiling with heat, Merlin jerkily stroked Arthur through his release. Until, with a gulping sound, Arthur pushed him away.
Merlin sat back on his heels, watching Arthur panting. He looked thoroughly satisfied. And undoubtedly gorgeous.
As reluctant as Merlin had been to begin with, he was really starting to enjoy his manservant’s duty. Perhaps it really was the reward the king had made it out to be. Now he just had to perfect his technique. And for that… well, he’d just have to keep practicing.
Chapter 9: Epilogue
Notes:
Thank you so much to everyone who read, kudosed, bookmarked and commented on this story!! I honestly never expected it to be as popular as it has been!! So THANK YOU ALL!!!! Here is just a short epilogue to round off the end of the fic!
The idea of a sequel is circling around my brain, but don't expect anything anytime soon, I have too many other challenges I need to write for first! (I am starting Kinkalot tomorrow 😉😉 (all of which will be published in my new aptly name pseud smutsy by the way *little bit of self promo, don't mind if I do!*)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
A few weeks later
Arthur woke up to a tickle on his ankle. He hummed, rolling onto his back, his eyes still closed as his mind slowly surfaced from the haze of sleep.
The tickle slid up his leg, swirling patterns over his calf, the sensitive spot behind his knee and onto the soft heat of his thigh. The fingertips pressing firmer into the strong muscles, slipping further up with tantalising softness.
He rolled his head towards the side of the bed, cracking open one bleary eye. A smile spread across his face as his gaze caught Merlin, kneeling on the floor beside his bed, one hand pushed under the blankets.
“Good morning, Sire,” Merlin said, in that deep husky tone he had taken to using first thing in the morning while he performed his manservant’s duties.
“Merlin,” Arthur said through a grin, closing his eyes again and letting his head relax on the pillow, knowing Merlin would take care of him.
Merlin’s hand settled right at the top of Arthur’s thigh, his thumb in the crook where leg met groin, his long fingers between his legs brushing the curve of his arse. He squeezed then tilted his hand slightly so the back of his knuckles nudged the underside of Arthur’s sac. Arthur’s already hard morning glory twitched.
But Merlin didn’t touch him, not yet. His light touch skimmed past Arthur’s manhood, his little finger pausing to curl into the golden hair before he pressed his flat palm to Arthur’s hip. His hands were the perfect temperature, just a fraction warmer than Arthur’s own skin, and his fingertips seared trails of hot pressure up over his taut stomach. He squirmed.
Then Merlin lifted his hand, taking it almost completely off Arthur, hovering it a few inches above his body. The back of his hand pushed the blanket up and he let just his middle finger gently drag right up his sternum, barely touching, making Arthur want to arch his back to press his chest into Merlin’s hand. He resisted, relishing in the ghostly touch that made him shiver as it grazed up his throat.
Arthur gulped and Merlin’s fingers echoed the bob of his Adam’s apple as they slid back down his neck. Instead of running back down his body, Merlin’s hand closed on the top of the blanket, tossing it away in one swish. Arthur gasped loudly as the cool air washed over his flushed skin, his balls tightening at the change in temperature.
And then Merlin’s warm hands were on him again, both of them this time, fingers splayed wide over his thighs. They massaged firmly, every now and then a finger dipping between his legs to rub his perineum. Arthur was writhing and mewling by the time Merlin’s right hand finally came to curl around his manhood.
God, he was good.
Arthur could barely believe that mere weeks ago Merlin’s awkward touch had softened him in an instant. Now, fingers dexterous with practise, Merlin could draw him deep, deep into pleasure with just a trail of his fingertips. Quickly bringing the discomfort of an aching morning glory into the burning desire of arousal, begging for his touch.
He let out a throaty moan as Merlin pulled long languorous strokes up his cock.
Arthur could not have asked for a better manservant.
Notes:
Sorry for stopping it before the smut really started there, but I felt like that was a good ending to round off the story!
Hope you enjoyed this story and THANK YOU!!!! 💕