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Outside, the city is dark and quiet, the blanket of night having fallen long ago. The moon is out in the sky, not quite full yet. Intermittently, clouds cross over the silvery light cast down on the castle and town below, bathing everything in even darker shadows. The small stars dotting the skies beside the moon share the same fate, winking in and out of sight. It's like the whole world has taken in a deep breath and is holding it before the sun rises and life begins again.
Inside the newly crowned King's chambers is a spark of life. Arthur sits behind his desk, poring over various documents and reports, his eye blurring slightly as he struggles to fight back yet another yawn. The candles lining his desk and the rest of the room have burned low. The young king knows he should have joined his kingdom in slumber long before now, yet he continues to stubbornly persevere. He could leave the rest of the piled parchments for the next day, but he knows that tomorrow will only bring more. More reports on grain stores, the royal coffers, recent patrols. He feels a headache building behind his eyes and futilely rubs at his forehead to try to chase it away.
The soft clearing of a throat from his table reminds him that he is not alone at this very late hour. Not that he had ever really forgotten. Not about him. Never about him. Merlin glances up in Arthur's direction and smiles apologetically when he sees Arthur's attention already pointed his way, clearly assuming he had disturbed the King. Arthur supposes that he had, in a way, but he had needed a break from the inked words piling up seemingly endlessly before him. He feels a soft, tired smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
When Merlin had arrived with dinner, Arthur had tried to dismiss him for the night, assuring his manservant, his friend, that he could manage the rest of the night alone. He had expected Merlin to jump at the chance to have the rest of the evening off. It had been a long two months since Arthur had taken the throne, for both of them, and Arthur could read the subtle signs pointing out Merlin's growing exhaustion. Instead, Merlin had refused, spewing out a half-truth about not finishing all of his duties and chores for the day yet. While Arthur had whole-heartedly believed that statement, he also believed that Merlin's decision was based on other factors as well. He would be lying if he said that, that thought didn't leave a warmth burning just beneath his breastbone.
"What?" Merlin asks, and it's then that Arthur realizes that he has been staring. "Do I have something on my face?"
Reaching up, he rubs at his forehead, his cheeks. His previously unblemished skin gets a streak of metal polish across it from the rag in Merlin's hand. Arthur snorts out a laugh, wondering, not for the first time, if Merlin was being an idiot just to make Arthur smile, just to ease the pressure that has been building up on his shoulders ever since he became Prince Regent, stepping up in place of his father until eventually taking over his title and crown entirely as king instead.
"You do now." He points out, gesturing vaguely to his own cheek in a lazy attempt to show Merlin where. The dark streak further accentuates his sharp cheekbones. He truly is beautiful, a fact that Arthur will only allow himself to admit at night, when the darkness can swallow his silent confession to himself, keeping it nestled away and safe from the light of day.
Merlin's dopey, bashful grin as he reaches up to swipe at his face tells Arthur that this time the action had been on purpose. The King feels a flare of fondness and affection for the man, the only person he knows who treats him as if he were someone else, other than the most powerful man in Camelot.
"You are free to leave whenever you like, Merlin." He reminds him, making Merlin give him a quizzical look.
"I'm not finished yet." He counters, holding up one of Arthur's vambraces. From his position halfway across the room, the piece looks spotless, as shiny as if it were brand new, but he doesn't say anything. If Merlin wanted to stay here late into the night with him, then he would selfishly take whatever time he could.
Dropping his eyes back to the document in his hand, Arthur tries to refocus on what he had been doing before. He finds it to be a futile endeavour, as his mind is stuck steadfastly on the other man occupying the room. Merlin, with his ridiculous ears, his big heart, and his uncanny ability to know exactly what Arthur needed.
Arthur has known that his... interest in Merlin has been questionable ever since he met him, all those years ago. Back then, he had viewed him as a challenge, yet another poor peasant that he could push around and break. In his younger days, he had enjoyed the game of seeing how far he could go until his staff just broke and left. Merlin, however, had been more stubborn than Arthur had anticipated. He was made from stronger stuff than he predecessors had been. He had intrigued Arthur with his insolence and penchant for speaking his mind completely out of turn. He had been a sorely needed breath of fresh air, and Arthur had been fascinated, craving the feeling in his lungs whenever he took a deep breath in.
When his father had been alive, Arthur had not dared to consider the implications of how Merlin made him feel. Now, however, with his father gone and no longer keeping a watchful eye over his son, Arthur was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his wandering hands and thoughts to himself. On more than one occasion, long after Merlin had left for the night, he had taken himself in hand and climaxed to images of hauntingly beautiful blue eyes, plush lips, and soft dark locks. His cheeks had always reddened the next morning when Merlin came to wake him.
Now, unable to help himself, his eyes are drawn back to where Merlin sits, long fingers methodically running the rag over his armour. His betraying mind fixates on those fingers, on what else they could do, and he feels his cheeks flare with embarrassed heat as his trousers grow a little tighter than they had been a moment ago. As if sensing Arthur's eyes on him, Merlin looks up, quirking an eyebrow.
"What is it?" He asks, and Arthur very nearly blurts it out, very nearly asks too much of the man he considered his closest friend.
Shaking his head and forcing himself to tear his gaze away, Arthur gruffly replies, "Nothing. You may leave now, Merlin. I am finished here for tonight."
As if to try to prove his point, he sets the parchment in his hand down on the pile that has yet to have his attention pored over it and gets to his feet. His back aches as he stretches stiffly, his neck protesting his many hours spent hunched over his desk. When he chances a look in Merlin's direction, however, he doesn't seem to be making any move to leave for the night. Instead, he is contemplating the King thoughtfully. Arthur holds his breath, unable to do anything but let Merlin continue and complete his scrutiny.
Finally, after what feels like hours, Merlin approaches him. "You're holding something back, I can tell. You're not telling me something." He muses quietly as he comes to a halt a mere arm's length away from Arthur. His blue eyes are locked unblinkingly with Arthur's own, valiantly trying to tear down every defence that Arthur has put in place. Arthur can already feel them begin to weaken, and he has no idea how long they are going to remain intact and standing.
"Return to your chambers, Merlin." Arthur means for it to sound firm, like an order from a king, but it comes out soft instead, like the gentle purring of a kitten. "Get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow morning."
Merlin, however, frowns and shakes his head. "No." He says, easily hitting the tone that Arthur had been aiming for. "Not until you tell me what's on your mind. I know you, and I know you will just go to bed and lie awake thinking about it and get no sleep at all."
And really, when did Merlin get to know him inside and out so well? It should scare Arthur, but it doesn't. He should be worried that one man knows so much about him, but instead, he finds it comforting, like a soothing balm to the soul.
Against his will, his lips part and one word tumbles out, unmistakable and damning in the firelight. "Stay."
Merlin's features soften, and he reaches out a hand, gently pressing the palm to Arthur's cheek. "I will always stay with you. You can have me for as long as you like, all you have to do is ask."
Arthur doesn't reply with words, instead choosing to allow his body to speak for him. He has always been a man of action, anyway. He tilts his head, leans closer, brushing their lips together in the merest touch of skin to skin possible. Still, his body sings at the contact that he has been craving since an insolent peasant called him an ass in front of his so called friends. A fire alights in his blood, flooding through his veins like a tidal wave.
Despite the chasteness of their embrace, he feels breathless as he pulls away. His eyes flutter open almost hesitantly, a part of him still worried about what he is going to find once the spell has been broken. He needn't have worried. As his eyes catch Merlin's, blue locked with blue, he finds nothing but an outpouring of unbridled and raw affection, the likes of which he has no memory of ever seeing pointed in his direction before. He had never known affection. Not from his nursemaids, or the people he had shared fumbling kisses with, and certainly not from his father. From the King he had received punishments for failures and conditional pride. To see it now, in such magnitude, makes Arthur's knees a little weak.
From one breath to the next, Merlin's hand curls around the back of his neck, pulling him back in. Arthur goes willingly, crashes into Merlin, lets him envelope him, fill his senses, until he feels like he is drowning in the dizzying happiness coursing through every nerve ending in his body.
A startled groan tumbles past his lips as Merlin effortlessly licks into his mouth, a spark of heat flaring to life in his gut. He leans into Merlin, allowing him to hold him up with his surprising strength, ceding all control over to the one he trusts more than any other. And he does trust Merlin, with his body, with his heart, with his soul.
Merlin's tongue twists with his own, making his toes curl slightly in his boots, before pulling away, teasing back in only to dance away again. It leaves Arthur lightheaded, aching for more, for all of it, all of Merlin.
"Please." Arthur all but begs as he pulls away, just enough for the word to curl around them. He feels Merlin shiver bodily as he groans, his other hand splaying wide across Arthur's lower back and pulling him flush against the man's body. Arthur moans as he feels Merlin's already erect cock press into his thigh, the heat in his gut roaring higher as he realizes that Merlin can feel his own arousal pressed into his own body as well. The burning need for Merlin, Merlin, Merlin flares through his chest, making his fingertips tingle.
Pulling away, albeit reluctantly, Merlin pants, "Bed."
For once, Arthur obeys the order without complaint, walking backwards to lead them to the plush, large bed not too far away. Merlin follows eagerly, never once letting go of Arthur's body, tense and taut with anticipation. As his legs hit the mattress, he sits down, willingly following the tug of Merlin's hand in his hair and arching his head back, exposing the long expanse of his throat.
"Fuck, Merlin." He breathes helplessly as Merlin ducks his head to kiss and suck and lick at the newly displayed skin. He feels his cock become even harder as Merlin bites at his pulse point hard enough to leave a mark. He moans at the sting, body shuddering as Merlin soothes his tongue over the reddened spot.
"That's the idea." Merlin replies huskily as he pulls away, and Arthur whines softly in his throat. Without another word, Merlin pulls back just enough to reach down, grabbing the hem of Arthur's loose, white tunic and pulling it over his head. Arthur's head swims with want as he blinks up at Merlin, top now bared and exposing the red flush spreading across his chest.
Very gently, Merlin pushes on Arthur's shoulders, urging him to lie back. Arthur follows the command immediately, shuffling back until his head comes to rest on his pillows. He watches Merlin intently, his stomach swooping as the man divests himself of his own tunic before climbing up onto the end as well. He crawls up over Arthur's body, eyes dark and hungry, pausing for a moment to mouth first at one of Arthur's nipples, then the other. Arthur sucks in a hissed breath, hand coming to curl through Merlin's hair as Merlin bites one teasingly. The smile Merlin gives him as he raises his head is predatory, fanning the flame already burning low in Arthur's belly.
"Gods, Merlin, I want you." The words come unbidden to his lips, spilling out into existence and making Merlin's eyes darken more.
"Your wish is my command, my king." Merlin replies silkily, infusing the title with as much love and desire as he possibly can.
Arthur's stomach squirms as Merlin's eyes glow molten gold, the rest of their clothes vanishing moments later. He hears a whimper filter through the air, only belatedly realizing that it had come from himself. Merlin flashes him a toothy grin before practically growling and diving down to claim Arthur's lips in another heated, passionate kiss. The action causes their hardened cocks to brush together and Arthur moans unashamedly into the heat of Merlin's mouth. Merlin takes it for a sign of encouragement and begins to grind his hips downwards into Arthur's, sinfully slowly and so, so good.
Arching his back, Arthur presses up into the long lines of Merlin's body moving above him, letting his head press back into the pillows under him. His lips part over a breathless moan, the end tapering off into a whine as Merlin picks up his previous onslaught on Arthur's neck. His body thrums with pleasure at the idea of being physically and visibly marked as Merlin's.
Much too soon, he begins to feel the tightening low in his belly and groin and pushes almost frantically at Merlin's hips, panting, "Wait, wait."
Immediately, Merlin pulls away, looking down at him in concern. "Is something wrong?"
"No, I just-" Arthur's cheeks redden with a hint of embarrassment, but this was Merlin. He trusted Merlin. "I just don't want to finish too soon. I want to feel you inside me first."
Merlin groans almost helplessly, ducking his head to kiss Arthur's lips. He thrusts his tongue onto Arthur's mouth, teasing just enough to leave Arthur breathless when he pulls away. His eyes flare gold again, turning Arthur's insides to liquid, and as they fade back to their usual blue, he has a small bottle of oil in his hands.
Agonizingly slowly, Merlin slides down Arthur's body, mouthing kisses into his exposed skin as he goes. When he reaches Arthur's straining cock, he presses a kiss to the underside, making Arthur jolt. A low groan passes his lips as Merlin continues to lick and kiss at the velvety soft skin, the distraction enough that he doesn't notice Merlin is preparing to slip a finger into his body until he feels the intrusion.
He grunts slightly, consciously having to force his muscles to relax. Merlin nips at his hipbones, leaving small marks across the skin there too. He slides his finger further into Arthur's body, crooks his finger, and then stars erupt across Arthur's vision, a loud moan pouring from his mouth.
Merlin continues his ministrations, adding first one finger, then another, until Arthur is a writhing mess on the bed below him. He's flushed and sweaty and panting when Merlin finally pulls his fingers free, mind blissfully empty except for this, floating on a haze of pleasure, intense but just out of reach.
"You ready?" Merlin asks. Arthur opens his eyes, unaware of when he had closed them, and meets Merlin's gaze. The other man is poised between his legs, straining cock glistening in oil. He looks other-worldly, with his flushed skin and wild hair, and Arthur is honestly surprised he doesn't come just from the sight alone.
"Yes. Gods, yes." Arthur replies, voice a little strained and hoarse. Merlin nods in response, and then he's moving forward, pressing the head of his cock to Arthur's stretched hole, and then he's sliding inside, and Arthur swears he feels heaven coursing through his veins.
Once fully buried inside Arthur's body, Merlin collapses forward, supported by his shaking arms alone, bracketing either side of Arthur's head. A sheen of sweat is lining Merlin's brow, his neck, his chest. Arthur lifts his head enough to lick at Merlin's throat, humming contentedly at the salty taste lingering on his tongue.
"Fuck, Arthur, you feel so perfect." Merlin groans. He shifts his hips a little, pulling an answering groan from Arthur.
"Please." Arthur all but begs. "Move."
As Merlin pulls out halfway, sliding back in again gently, Arthur lifts his legs, wrapping them around Merlin's slim waist. It allows Merlin to push in just a bit deeper, making both men moan lowly into the heated air around them. Merlin rolls his hips forward again, sealing his mouth over Arthur's before smoothly pulling out again, pausing for a moment, then pushing back in.
Slowly, Merlin picks up the pace, but still somehow remains oh-so-gentle. As he pulls out again, he shifts a bit, changing the angle as he pushes back into Arthur's body, nudging the spot that sends fire over Arthur's skin and stars erupting across his vision. Arthur cries out as Merlin hits the spot again, and again. He barely notices Merlin's mouth pressing into his throat again.
"Gods, Arthur, you're gorgeous like this." Merlin pants into Arthur's skin. "All laid out for me and so willing, so pliant. You're like a god come to life."
Arthur keens at the praise, hands gripping the sharp points of Merlin's shoulder blades, nails leaving shallow half moons in his skin.
"I may be magic incarnate," Merlin continues, "but you... you are beauty incarnate. You are courage and purity and everything good in this world."
A haze has filled Arthur's head, fogging everything that is not Merlin and his touch and his words. He is sure if he could, he would be glowing from the pleasure mounting in his veins. It only takes two more powerful thrusts of Merlin's hips to send him over the edge, crying out his pleasure.
"I love you, Merlin. You have no idea how much I love you." Arthur babbles as he rides out his high. The words seem to be enough for Merlin, the man groaning long and low as he releases deep inside Arthur's body. The feeling is nearly enough to bring Arthur to the edge and over a second time.
As his body comes to a trembling stop, Merlin's arms give out and he lands heavily on top of Arthur below him, making Arthur huff out his breath. He wraps his arms around Merlin's sweaty back, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, curling his head to press his nose into Merlin's neck. For a moment, they are silent, merely basking in the afterglow and each other.
Then, "I love you too, Arthur, with everything that I have."
Arthur bodily shivers at the words, unaware of just how badly he had needed to hear them. His voice is muffled against Merlin's skin as he murmurs, "Stay."
"I will always stay with you. You can have me for as long as you like, all you have to do is ask." Merlin repeats his words from before.
"Forever then." Arthur replies. "Just like this."
"Forever." Merlin promises. He shifts them, Arthur going pliant and allowing Merlin to manhandle him into position, curled into Merlin's side as Merlin lays on his back, one arm wrapped protectively around Arthur's body. He inhales deeply, revelling in the scent of Merlin filling his senses. The last thing he remembers before slipping into sleep is a kiss on his forehead.