"I'd like to see you do this to yourself one day," Arthur says against Merlin's ear. "Watch you spread your legs and wet your fingers, slide them inside to make yourself ready for me."
Written for winterlive, because porn recs were not good enough for her, no, she needed something new, and right now in AIM, please. Which you know, I'm easy like that.
Winter celebrations stretch the nights hours long than they should, well after anyone sane would retire from the chill of the hall to enjoy the warmth of their own chambers and comfort of their own beds. He'd been among them, once upon a time, passing hot wine with his knights and the younger members of his father's court until the hours grew liquid and hazy, leaving unfamiliar beds to return to his own as dawn painted the length of the horizon in pale grey and fragile gold.
Tonight, Arthur slips out between one drunken tale of impossible feats and another, already tired of fending off attentions that grow more blatant with every goblet of wine; neither knights nor courtiers will easily accept that he has no interest in sharing their beds tonight.
This deep in the castle, he can barely hear the wind of the winter storm that's turned a three day festival into two endless weeks trapped in a castle stuffed with Camelot's greatest nobles and growing smaller by the hour.
The corridors still have the occasional servant, running through the cold from one warm room to another on this errand or that and easy to avoid. Arthur takes the kitchen stairs, navigating a circuitous route less likely to bring him in contact with either a wandering guest or a knight who's found a more pleasant way to spend cold winter nights than drinking or his own bed. Arthur doesn't grudge his men their pleasures, but he prefers ignorance of the activities of highborn wives when he must address their husbands in the full light of day, and he much prefers avoiding even the possibility of running into one of these ladies himself.
Closing the door carefully behind him, Arthur turns the lock, stripping coat and tunic on his way to the fire, already banked for the night, and undressing in the remaining heat before looking at the lump buried beneath his bedclothes.
Even during daylight hours, the snow's been heavy, making even a simple trip across the courtyard difficult, and the nights far worse; Merlin hadn't argued very long when he'd be required to cross it after dark and before dawn both. Hissing at the brush of chill linen against his skin, Arthur thinks he could easily grow reconciled to the storm lasting all winter.
Merlin stirs at the first shift of the bed, eyes half-open and still glazed with sleep. "Arthur?"
"I'd hate to wonder who else you could be expecting." Leaning in for a kiss, Arthur slides both hands up Merlin's back beneath the soft wool shift he wore to bed, familiar because it's his, liking Merlin in his bed and wearing his clothes.
Merlin smirks when he pulls back. "Too many to remember," he murmurs, arching his neck as Arthur mouths his jaw, pressing a kiss beneath his chin. "But you'll do, I suppose. As it's your bed."
"Generous of you." Sucking a kiss into the soft skin beneath his ear, Arthur presses closer, easing the wool high enough to rub his cock against the warm skin of Merlin's belly. "Too tired?"
Merlin snorts softly. "Not that tired." One long leg drapes lazily across Arthur's hip, cock grazing Arthur's as he rolls his hips. "Unless the wine's been too much for you, sire?"
Reaching back, Arthur gets an extra pillow, fighting the urge to smack him with it. "Roll over." Fitting himself against the length of Merlin's back, he tucks it against Merlin's chest, breathing out sharply as Merlin presses back against him for a perfect, endless second. He likes Merlin like this, warm and still drowsy, murmuring contentedly as Arthur slides a hand down his thigh, easing one knee up and over the pillow, spreading him wide. Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, Arthur traces the shell of his ear with his tongue and adds, "Just like this. Don't move."
The oil is tucked by the leg of the bed; Arthur moves to get it, shivering at the slap of cold air, then sitting up, knee against Merlin's back. Pouring it into his palm to warm it, he pushes the blankets to the foot of the bed.
Merlin shivers, eyes flickering half-open in sleepy reproach.
"Don't move." The wool's draped modestly to just below the curve of his arse. Arthur wets two fingers in the oil, reaching beneath the hem and following the length of warm skin until he presses against the tight hole.
Merlin shivers, but Arthur just traces the edges, skin hot and damp compared to the chill of the air; he likes to watch Merlin when he does this. Gentle pressure against his hip pushes Merlin more firmly against the pillow, and Arthur reaches with his free hand to pulling his knee higher so Merlin's spread wide for him, wool sliding up his hip. Bending down, Arthur presses his tongue against Merlin's ear and slide a finger inside, feeling Merlin relax around him, impossibly hot.
"Oh," Merlin whispers, rocking his hips back as Arthur adds a second finger. Arthur catches him, holding him still.
"I said, don't move."
Merlin turns his head enough to catch Arthur's eyes, curious.
Arthur keeps his fingers still, difficult as it is in that clinging heat. "Can you do that?"
Merlin hesitates, thoughtful, before his mouth curves in a slow, filthy smile. "All right."
"Good." Arthur kisses the back of his neck, adding a third finger, feeling Merlin stretch around him, shivering now but not from cold. Picking up the oil, Arthur dips his fingers into it, reaching beneath the shift to catch a pebbled nipple between cold fingers, and Merlin makes a breathless sound against the pillow, face beginning to flush.
"I'd like to see you do this to yourself one day," Arthur says against Merlin's ear. "Watch you spread your legs and wet your fingers, slide them inside to make yourself ready for me." Reaching for Merlin's hand, he guides it down until his fingers are pressed to the stretched skin. "For now, I want you to keep yourself open for me." Slicking Merlin's fingers, he pulls out and pushes Merlin's inside. "Don't move them."
Merlin licks his lips, and Arthur waits until he nods shortly, flush spreading slowly down his throat, before he lets go.
"Good." Arthur shifts the pillow aside enough to ease a hand down Merlin's belly, wrapping slick around Merlin's cock, hard and damp at the head already. Stripping it slowly, Arthur feels Merlin shudder with the effort not to move as Arthur mouths his shoulder. Letting him go, Arthur reaches for his other nipple, twisting it briefly between his fingers, and Merlin makes a muffled sound against the pillow.
"I'd like to have my cock here," he says against Merlin's ear, feeding oil-wet fingers between Merlin's lips, shivering at the wet tongue sliding between them before Merlin sucks, slow and languorous, like he does Arthur's cock, making Arthur almost forget what he's saying. "Have you fuck yourself with your fingers while you suck me off."
Pulling them out, he slides them down the length of Merlin's spine before pushing one inside between Merlin's fingers, and Merlin's hips jerk in shock. Arthur sinks his teeth into the soft skin below Merlin's ear in reproach, catching his hip and holding it in place. "Don't move."
"Yes you can," Arthur whispers, licking the outline of his teeth, bright red against Merlin's pale skin. "Because I say you can."
Slowly, Arthur eases the other finger in, feeling Merlin stretching further, panting against the pillow, face twisting, but his hips stay still, trembling under Arthur's restraining hand.
Pulling his fingers free, Arthur pushes the pillow aside, easing Merlin's knee to the bed, spread wide and perfect. Cheek pressed to the bare sheet, Merlin's eyes flicker half-open, pupils blown wide and glazed, and Arthur kisses him in reward, dipping his fingers into the oil and slicking his cock, hardly noticing the cold, hands shaking so much he almost spills it.
Curling a hand around Merlin's wrist, Arthur whispers, "Don't come until I tell you that you may," and pulls Merlin's fingers free. Merlin stiffens in surprise, but Arthur's already sliding inside him, catching his breath at the slick heat drawing him in. Stretching comfortably over Merlin's back, Arthur pushes his tongue between Merlin's slack lips, swallowing the startled groan that sounds like his name.
"I'd have you wait for me like this every night," Arthur says, shifting his hips for a better angle and sliding deeper, perfect, perfect. "So I could come to bed and find you slicked open and ready for me. Or should I find you something to use besides your fingers?"
Merlin's breath catches, shuddering as Arthur thrusts slowly into him, hand clenching in the sheet.
"Something to fill you all day," Arthur murmurs against his ear, bracing one hand on the bed beside Merlin. "Keep you open for whenever I want you, wherever we are."
The full-body shudder ripples through them both; Merlin locks a hand around his wrist. "Arthur."
"I'd come inside you and then put it back in," Arthur whispers breathlessly, surprised he can still talk, "so you'd still have me inside you while you went about your duties. See how many time I can take you before you're full."
"God," Merlin breathes. Arthur wraps a hand around the base of Merlin's cock, squeezing. "Please."
"I should have something made, just for you," Arthur manages; Merlin tightens around his cock, body shaking, sending a flare of heat up his spine. Christ. Pressing a kiss against Merlin's shoulder, Arthur turns head enough to nip his lower lip, soothing the bite with his tongue. "I'll make it myself while you watch, test each one until I find the perfect." Arthur thrusts, hard, fingernails drawing red crescents into the thin skin of Merlin's hip. "Fit."
"Please," Merlin whispers, and Arthur strips his cock and breathes, "Now."
Merlin convulses around him, impossibly tight, and Arthur buries his groan against Merlin's neck, sucking the smooth, sweaty skin as he comes with Merlin shaking against him, dragging it out for them both until Merlin collapses boneless against the bed and Arthur tries to remember how to breathe.
Wrapping his come-slick hand around Merlin's hip, Arthur eases them away from the wet sheets, pulling the pillow back against Merlin's chest and pressing him against it, easing a thigh between Merlin's spread legs, keeping them open . Merlin lifts his head blearily, but Arthur eases it back down. "I want you like this," Arthur says, rubbing his cheek against Merlin's. "I want to fall asleep inside you and watch you wake up while I fuck you."
Merlin shudders, and Arthur can see his cock jerk, and reaches down, cupping it gently to hear Merlin moan. "I won't--be able to walk," he says, not sounding displeased at all.
Arthur tilts his chin, kissing him, thinking of Merlin in his bed all day, warm and comfortable, slick and still stretched open, ready. He'll get nothing done all day. "Good."
ETA: ...let's just all pretend I didn't just post porn on Easter.