Work Text:
"Greetings, O great magician. How are you this fine... Ah."
While Lamorak enters the workshop with his usual bells and whistles, the sight of the room in disarray is enough for him to drop the act, at least for a second. Merlin usually keeps his workplace rather tidy, but as of late, cleanlinees seems to have been pushed to the bottom of his priorities, even more than it did before. Papers and books are strewn across the floor and tables, magical artifacts in haphazard display. The only thing in place is the lock Merlin had put on the tube containing the latest breed of hybrids, one that does not come undone even now as Merlin claws at the tube's sides. Of course, with his power, Merlin could easily undo the lock himself, but...
"Come now, you'll get yourself dirty like that." Lamorak weaves near effortlessly around the mess, something he's had countless experience doing so even before his tenure as Merlin's assistant. When he reaches the magician, it becomes clear that Merlin has yet to even notice his presence. The Erune mage still has his back turned to him, white robe spilling out of his shoulders, cheeks flushed as his eyes widen at the creatures before him.
"Uther... Uriens..." His scratching intensifies, eyes widening as if he's trying to force himself inside the tube.
Honestly, Lamorak has half a mind to chuckle at Merlin's needy whine, at how his "master" is addled enough to be incapable of discerning the true form of what's in front of him, let alone being able to tell the living from the dead. Instead, Lamorak clicks his tongue as he bends down, hooking his arms out from under Merlin's armpits onto his shoulders to secure his grip. After all, the responsibility of Merlin's current state must be handled posthaste, lest they experience any more delays.
"Yes, yes..." Knight he may not be, but even Lamorak can lift Merlin up from the ground (it helps that Merlin himself seems to have lost some weight, but he'll be full soon enough). The mage makes a small noise, one of both shock and indignation, but his voice reverts back to a coo once he lays eyes on Lamorak's ears.
"Uriens..." Merlin's tone is reverent. a far cry from the usual distant one he employs towards Lamorak. He reaches to touch them, his gentle touch sending a tingle down Lamorak's spine when skin meets magic.
Granted, Lamorak only knows of the past king and his knight from his research, and from eavesdropping select conversations from Merlin, so his illusion is an imperfect one. He only has the vaguest idea of what they must have looked like based on their progeny, and even then, Lamorak can really only tamper with so much of his own appearance.
Not that it matters, not with Merlin's present state of mind anyways.
Lamorak half-drags, half-carries Merlin to a nearby workbench, flicking a gust of wind to knock its contents off its surface. Gingerly, he sets Merlin down, taking his time with disrobing the mage once he is down. Yet that only seems to work up Merlin further, causing the other to squirm in Lamorak's grasp.
"Please Uriens, allow me to-" As Merlin makes a move to get up, Lamorak gently but firmly pushes him back down.
"Just relax, Merlin. For this one day, leave the rest to me." Though his voice seems soothing enough, Lamorak hastens his actions. He takes one of the potions hanging on his belt, slicking his fingers with the liquid inside before slipping them easily into Merlin. The suddenness of it all silences any protests Merlin was about to make, a mewl replacing it instead.
"See?" Lamorak practically purrs as he spreads Merlin apart, the Erune's heat making the mage melt in his hands more than usual. "Doesn't this feel good? Look at how well you do when you simply listen." Merlin's ears twitch and Lamorak leans forward to caress them, only for his hands to travel down and yank Merlin's head back by the hair..
"Hngh-!" Despite Merlin's startled response, his eyes narrowing in anger even, he begins moaning once more once Lamorak works his full length inside the mage.
"Ha..." Lamorak rolls his hips slowly, allowing himself to savor the tense heat. "You know, I can never get over how easily you can take me in. I bet you've taken all kinds of cock back in the day, huh?" He chuckles, his grip on Merlin's hips tightening as his other hand gives another tug on his head. "Just imagine if it got out that the miracle worker, the leader of the cabal himself, was such an eager lay."
Lamorak doesn't leave Merlin much room to even answer, picking up his pace and alternating it every so often so that the magician never completely accustoms himself to the current rhythm. A smirk sneaks itself on Lamorak's face as he leans forward once more, tongue and teeth dragging across flushed skin. He knows that Merlin would prefer a sweet dream, a gentle touch befitting the ghosts that plague him so, but quite frankly, Lamorak doesn't owe him that much.
Besides, Merlin himself doesn't seem to mind all.
"Haaaa..." Merlin's hands claws at Lamorak's back, nails digging through the fabric. He arches his back, bringing Lamorak closer as Lamorak buries himself inside with a particularly deep thrust. "M-more... more please!"
Lamorak snorts, only for it to devolve into a full-bodied chuckle. "Really, you should get a good look at yourself. I bet that king of yours had a blast with you. Or did that knight train you? Perhaps both?" Merlin doesn't answer, only whining when Lamorak slows down squirming and scratching at him even when Lamorak completely stops. "Come on, I'm sure a great man such as yourself knows how to use your words."
It doesn't take much for Lamorak to goad Merlin on. More "please"s and "more"s spills out of Merlin's lips, almost as if he's blubbering. Lamorak laughs, his self-fashioned ears flickering on his head until they vanish completely.
"Man, you're not even going to fight back? Shouldn't you have more dignity than this, o royal magician?" Still, Lamorak obliges, showing no mercy when he begins again, hands moving so that both are gripping Merlin's hips. As expected, Merlin devolves into a whimpering mess, squeezing Lamorak tightly. Lamorak grins, fingers digging into the mage's sides until a soft warmth coats their tips. Merlin's breath hitches, tears pricking at his eyes, a sight that sends shivers down Lamorak's core.
"Seriously? You're a masochist too?" Lamorak flicks at the erection straining against Merlin's stomach, particularly where Merlin's exposed knot is, causing the Erune to shudder. "You're leaking all over the damn place. Don't you even feel a shred of shame?" But Merlin barely has time to breathe, let alone answer in between his pants as he tries to match Lamorak's pace with his own movements. Lamorak laughs. "Not even gonna hide how close you are to coming, are you? You truly are the royal bitch, Gawa-"
Lamorak freezes, but even his own breath hitches when Merlin squeezes. Both men come, Lamorak's more strained than the one that comes out of Merlin's with ease. Lamorak slumps forward, but he refuses to fall down completely, trying to steady himself with his hands as he tries to ride out his own climax.
After several moments, Lamorak takes a deep breath. He unceremoniously pulls out, not even acknowledging the little noise of protest that comes from Merlin.
"Uther..." Lamorak sighs as he pulls up his trousers.
"Don't worry." He snaps his fingers, a whoosh sounding out nearby. "You'll be in good care."
Lamorak strides towards the door, hardly hearing the cries behind him. He pauses before he takes hold of the knob.
"I..." His voice is low, aimed at no one in particular. Lamorak shakes his head, the smile returning to his face as he glances back. "I'll be back in a bit, O great magician sir," he says cheerily, closing the door as the hybrids swarm their master.