Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Arthur has been working you to the ground, lately,” Gwaine remarked, frowning at the deep circles that underlined Merlin’s tired eyes.

Merlin groaned dramatically. “He’s been more demanding than usual,” he conceded. “And on top of that, there have been three assassination attempts this week. And Gaius has been giving me more work recently.”

In the dim light of the tavern, Merlin looked exhausted. It wasn’t too busy yet, as it was still early in the evening. The drone of hushed conversations felt almost relaxing. Gwaine loved how lively the place got later in the night, when patrons became rowdier as alcohol flowed. But Merlin preferred the more intimate atmosphere of early evening. And after the stressful week he’d had, Gwaine wanted his friend to relax.

Merlin drank a few more gulps of ale before pushing his still half-full glass towards Gwaine.

“You really can’t handle your liquor,” Gwaine said teasingly as he finished his own glass in a big gulp.

“I’m not a drunkard like you,” Merlin shot back with a smirk.

Gwaine brought a hand to his heart, gaping at Merlin in mock offense. He grinned when Merlin giggled. It was always nice to see the tension bleed out of Merlin while a genuine smile appeared on his face.

“Want me to help you unwind?” Gwaine asked after some time had passed in comfortable silence. Even though he sent Merlin a playful, seductive wink, his tone was serious.

He had almost finished Merlin’s pint and if the evening progressed as he thought it would, Gwaine should avoid drinking too much. Merlin’s reaction was rather promising. The young man blushed prettily, but he didn’t divert his gaze from Gwaine’s focused eyes.

“Yeah, I think that could help,” Merlin replied with a little nod.

Downing the rest of his ale in a single gulp, Gwaine stood up. Now that his expectations were confirmed, the lust simmering in his loins became harder to ignore. Merlin seemed to catch on the mood shift as he followed Gwaine out of the tavern.

“It’s flattering to know I’m this irresistible,” Merlin teased with an amused grin.

“You have no idea, Merls,” Gwaine sighed.

He welcomed Merlin’s hand in the crook of his elbow as the other man linked their arms together. Merlin always became more affectionate when he had a bit to drink. If Gwaine was capable of it, he would probably fall in love with him. It was a good thing Merlin wasn’t in love with Gwaine either.

One of the perks of being a knight was having a room of his own. This afforded Gwaine the privacy he needed to enjoy his time with Merlin. Merlin sighed in fond exasperation as he took in the usual mess that was Gwaine’s living space. Not that Merlin was much better. Well, Gwaine supposed that if he had to clean up after the princess every day, he wouldn’t be thrilled to have to clean his own room afterwards. With a flick of his wrist, Merlin shifted the pile of dirty clothes that Gwaine had left on a corner of his bed to an abandoned chair in a corner of the room.

“I hope you changed the sheets since the last time I was here,” Merlin said, staring judgementally at Gwaine.

A light flush dusted across the knight’s cheeks. It had taken him embarrassingly long to finally remove the dirty sheets and replace them with clean ones. In fact, they were still waiting to be washed.

“I did, I did. You can soil perfectly clean bed linens,” he replied, hoping his sheets wouldn’t get too dirty. He was growing short on clean bedding. Maybe he should bring his laundry down for it to be washed.

Despite the familiarity of the situation, Gwaine could sense that Merlin was growing nervous again. During their first intimate encounters, it had made Gwaine worry that he was pushing Merlin to do things he didn’t really want to. Now, he knew that his friend just needed some help getting comfortable before they got started.

“Come on now, let’s get you out of those clothes,” Gwaine whispered against the shell of Merlin’s ear, relishing the shivered it elicited from his friend.

“Yeah, okay,” Merlin replied in a stuttered breath.

Gwaine’s mouth latched onto Merlin’s neck, kissing and sucking at his pulse point as he dragged Merlin’s jacket down his arms, letting it fall on the ground. He untied Merlin’s neckerchief, smiling against Merlin’s neck as more skin became available for his greedy lips. He wasted no time taking advantage of it. His tongue teasingly licked a trail down Merlin’s throat. Merlin gasped as Gwaine’s teeth grazed against his prominent collar bone. His long fingers tangled into Gwaine’s luscious hair, tugging on it just the way Gwaine liked it.

Gwaine’s hands weren’t idle either. They sneaked under Merlin’s washed-out shirt, eagerly touching Merlin’s toned abs. Honestly, Merlin might not be a knight, but he had the body of one. Being a servant and secret magical protector was hard work. Gwaine’s hands stroked their way up Merlin’s body until they reached his chest. His fingers pinched and rubbed Merlin’s sensitive nipples until Merlin started whimpering above him.

Taking a step back, Gwaine admired the result of his efforts. Merlin’s eyes were dark with lust; a rare sight that only he had the privilege of witnessing. His pale cheeks were already turning a nice shade of pink. His lips were reddened from being bitten to muffle sounds of pleasure. Merlin’s neckerchief would come to good use tomorrow, because Gwaine had left unmistakable marks on his neck and along his collar bone. It was an irresistible sight, and Gwaine had always been weak in the face of temptation.

With a surge of desire, Gwaine roughly pulled Merlin’s shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor with his abandoned jacket.

“You have no idea what you do to me, Merlin,” Gwaine said, overcome with lust.

Merlin smirked and cupped Gwaine’s crotch. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” he said like the little minx he was.

Gwaine’s hips moved on their own volition, seeking more friction. But Merlin retracted his hand and grinned at Gwaine when the knight let out a frustrated groan. It was Merlin’s turn to take the lead. He grabbed the hem of Gwaine’s shirt and slowly lifted it, bending to follow the trail of uncovered skin with his lips. Gwaine moaned. The sensation of Merlin’s lips and tongue kissing and licking their way up his torso was way more erotic than it had any right to be. Gwaine’s shirt was negligently dropped with the rest of their clothes.

Lithe but strong hands pulled Gwaine closer by his hips before he was wrapped in a tight hug. Merlin’s hands were still slightly cold against Gwaine’s back. Merlin kissed him slowly but unrelentingly. That kind of confidence did things to Gwaine. Just the feeling of Merlin’s skin against his own made Gwaine’s head spin. Every time one of them shifted, the drag of naked skin on naked skin sent sparks through Gwaine’s spine.

Patience had never been one of Gwaine’s virtues. And while he enjoyed this slow and insanely sensual foreplay, he needed more. He cupped Merlin’s arse, enjoying the way his cheeks fit into Gwaine’s large hands, and tugged Merlin forward. They moaned into each other’s mouth as their clothed erections collided. Gwaine rubbed his crotch against Merlin’s, deliberately setting a maddeningly slow pace.

Merlin broke the kiss, panting against Gwaine’s cheek. He sloppily kissed Gwaine’s jaw before settling against his neck. His wet lips and warm breath made Gwaine mad with lust. The tight leash he’d managed to keep on his desire snapped. He roughly pushed Merlin on his bed, growling when Merlin enticingly spread his legs in wordless invitation.

With practiced ease, Gwaine unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his trousers. Merlin licked his lips at the sight of Gwaine’s bare body. And while he knew Merlin wasn’t attracted to him, it still stroked his ego to see the appreciation in Merlin’s eyes.

“I’m going to ravish you, Merlin. Going to make you mine. I’ll fuck you so good that you won’t be able to think about anything,” Gwaine drawled as he crawled on top of Merlin, settling between his thighs.

“Yeah, fuck the stress out of me,” Merlin replied breathlessly.

Gwaine paused in his pursuit of ridding Merlin of his remaining clothes. His eyes met Merlin’s. His lips wobbled in a vain attempt to keep hold of his laughter. But he inevitably lost that battle when Merlin’s brain caught up to his mouth and he started giggling. They both collapsed on the bed, naked and horny, unable to stop laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of Merlin’s words.

“Sorry, I ruined the mood,” Merlin said between giggles and short of breath.

“Please, never change, Merls,” Gwaine said fondly. He kissed Merlin’s cheek. “We can still get back in the mood, if you want to,” he added with a wink, kissing down Merlin’s jaw to his neck.

Merlin pushed his hips up, grinding his still clothed cock against Gwaine’s naked lower belly. That was answer enough for Gwaine. He eagerly undid Merlin’s belt and finally pulled Merlin’s trousers down, revealing his friend’s pale thighs and half-hard cock.

Deciding he was done taking things slow, Gwaine succumbed to the temptation of tasting Merlin. He swallowed him whole, humming at the way Merlin’s cock twitched in his mouth. He felt it harden as he bobbed his head and licked the sensitive head. Merlin’s back arched off the bed, pushing himself deeper into Gwaine’s willing mouth. Merlin moaned when Gwaine swallowed around his shaft. Gwaine did it again, just to feel the way his throat closed around Merlin, massaging his cock. Merlin’s hand landed clumsily on Gwaine’s head, pushing him down and keeping him there as Merlin’s hips moved shallowly. Gwaine forced his jaw to relax, allowing Merlin to take what he wanted. It was always insanely hot when Merlin lost himself to pleasure. He really must have been stressed out for it to happen so quickly, though. Usually, it took much more coaxing on Gwaine’s part to get him to this point.

Gwaine’s neglected cock rubbed on the rumpled sheets, reminding him of his own growing need. But he ignored it for the time being. More precum leaked with every delicious sound Merlin made above him. Gwaine wouldn’t be entirely surprised if he managed to cum just from sucking Merlin off and feasting on his moans. It required a tremendous amount of self-control from Gwaine not to hump the mattress.

But Merlin was getting close. He heard it in the way his whines became more high-pitched, and his thrusts became more urgent. Gwaine decided to give Merlin the last push he needed to reach his climax. He pinched the pale, soft skin of Merlin’s inner thighs, digging his nails into the unblemished flesh. The moan that was ripped out of Merlin’s chapped lips was nothing short of delirious. He buried himself even deeper down Gwaine’s throat and shook as he spilled himself in powerful spurts. Gwaine’s hands firmly held Merlin’s hips in place, relishing the way his spent cock softened in his mouth.

A wounded moan informed Gwaine that Merlin was heading straight into overstimulation, but he still maintained his hold until the other man started writhing under him and tried pulling his hair to get Gwaine to relent.

Tears soaked Merlin’s cheeks from his intense orgasm and the pain from overstimulation that followed. Yet, he pulled Gwaine towards him without hesitation and captured his mouth in a kiss that made Gwaine’s head spin. Gwaine couldn’t hold back anymore. His need for release became too pressing to be ignored. His hips started moving without any conscious input, rutting against Merlin’s soft but strong thigh. He sobbed into Merlin’s mouth.

Merlin pulled Gwaine’s head back by his hair and gently kissed the corner of his mouth. “Prepare me for your cock, Gwaine,” he demanded.

Gwaine could have come from those words only. Merlin was a demanding little shit, but Gwaine would have it no other way. He flipped Merlin on his front none too gently, smirking at the surprised yelp that got him from his friend. Even though he wanted nothing more than to just sheathe his cock deep into Merlin’s tight hole, he still chose to take his time making Merlin ready to take him.

His strong hands parted Merlin’s cheeks, revealing his puckered rim. Gwaine dug in, licking and kissing the sensitive ring of muscles. Merlin raised his hips, giving Gwaine better access. He pushed his tongue into Merlin’s hole, moaning at the way it squeezed him. Merlin was biting a pillow to muffle his own whimpers. As Gwaine started fucking Merlin with his tongue, he felt saliva trickle down his chin and coating Merlin’s perineum and balls. He withdrew his tongue and pulled Merlin open with both thumbs. Merlin arched his back when Gwaine spat directly inside of him. He did it again, just to elicit another depraved moan.

“Slick my fingers,” Gwaine ordered. He didn’t have the patience to look for the vial of oil he usually used.

It took a few seconds for Merlin to gather his wits enough to comply. But when he did, three of Gwaine’s fingers were glistening with some sort of viscous, oily substance.

A startled gasp escaped Merlin’s mouth when Gwaine inserted a finger past Merlin’s spit-slicked rim. It contracted against the intrusion, squeezing Gwaine’s finger. Merlin groaned in the back of his throat, forcing himself to relax. His hole swallowed Gwaine’s finger easily after the initial resistance. It didn’t take long for Gwaine to add a second finger. He purposefully avoided Merlin’s prostate, much to his friend’s frustration. Gwaine spread his fingers, testing how far he could stretch Merlin’s hole before adding one last finger and fucking Merlin in earnest. Merlin pushed back against them, panting into the mattress. And still, Gwaine didn’t let his fingers graze Merlin’s prostate.

“Are you ready for me, Merls?” Gwaine asked when his patience was about to run out. He was hard as steel. His cock ached and twitched with each of Merlin’s whines and groans. He would wait longer if Merlin asked him to, but he was starting to get desperate for stimulation, and it was audible in his strained voice.

“Yeah, fuck me, Gwaine,” Merlin replied hoarsely.

Gwaine didn’t need to be told twice. This time, he didn’t need to ask before Merlin used his magic to slick his cock. Gwaine sheathed himself deep inside Merlin in one fluid thrust. Merlin pushed back against him until his arse touched Gwaine’s hips. Gwaine held him in place while he got used to the feeling of Merlin’s tight warmth hugging his aching shaft. Merlin, the little shit that he was, started grinding himself on Gwaine’s cock.

“Fuck, Merls, I won’t last if you keep this up,” Gwaine moaned, digging his nails into Merlin’s hips.

“Then stop stalling and take me,” Merlin replied, impatience clear in his voice.

“You’re impossible,” Gwaine complained fondly.

Despite his complaint, Gwaine still complied. He abandoned all ideas of finesse as he set a rough pace, fucking Merlin in long, powerful strokes. He pushed Merlin into the mattress with one hand between his shoulder blades. Merlin didn’t oppose any resistance. He arched his back to give Gwaine a better angle. In this position, Gwaine was almost draped over Merlin’s back, and the feeling of Merlin’s sweaty skin against his chest and abdomen had Gwaine muffle a moan into Merlin’s shoulder. He could feel the muscles of Merlin’s back shifting with each thrust.

Gwaine hadn’t lied when he said he wouldn’t last. He was careening towards his climax embarrassingly quickly. But it only pushed him to fuck Merlin harder.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” Gwaine growled against Merlin’s neck.

“Don’t stop,” Merlin begged, his words mangled and half-formed.

“You’re gonna cum just from me fucking you, Merls,” Gwaine demanded darkly.

He moaned when Merlin nodded, unable to form words anymore. He didn’t even attempt to touch his leaking cock, much to Gwaine’s satisfaction. Gwaine knew he was now continually grinding against Merlin’s prostate, making his friend moan brokenly into the pillow. He’d bet there was now a large wet patch under Merlin’s mouth. It was a shame that he couldn’t see his face in this position. Merlin tended to look utterly debauched when he was this far into pleasure. Well, he’d see his blissed-out face once they were done.

A tidal wave of pleasure crashed on Gwaine, sudden and unforgiving. His orgasm surprised him. He buried himself even deeper inside Merlin’s pulsing hole. His whole body tensed, trembling as he painted Merlin’s walls with his seeds. Merlin sobbed as he felt Gwaine’s cock begin to soften in him. He desperately fucked himself on Gwaine’s spent cock. It was the most depraved thing Gwaine had ever seen, and he had seen his fair share of depraved things. But watching Merlin as he frantically sought his release, completely lost to his needs, was something Gwaine wasn’t prepared for. It made his cock twitch in a valiant but vain attempt at getting hard again.

When pain supplanted pleasure, Gwaine withdrew from Merlin, earning a disappointed sob from his friend. He quickly replaced his cock with three fingers, immediately striking Merlin’s prostate and massaging it firmly. Merlin shook with pleasure. He pushed himself against Gwaine’s hand. It didn’t take long for Merlin to collapse on the bed, wracked with tremors as his orgasm hit him.

The sight that greeted Gwaine when he helped Merlin roll on his back punched a breathy moan out of his chest. Drying tears painted salty trails down Merlin’s cheeks. His eyes were red and puffy and shiny with tears of pleasure. His lips were red and swollen, glistening with spit. The same spit that covered his chin. If they weren’t both so utterly spent, that face would have been enough to drive Gwaine into another round.

As it was, he used a corner of the bedsheets that had gotten untucked during their vigorous activities to wipe the saliva and tears off Merlin’s face.

“Are you feeling better?” Gwaine asked, although he already knew the answer. He just needed to see the relaxed set of Merlin’s shoulders and the drooping of his eyelids. He was a far cry from the tightly wound ball of tension he had been earlier.

Merlin sighed, snuggling into Gwaine’s side and nodded slowly. “Much better. Thank you,” he mumbled.

“I’m always happy to help,” Gwaine said with a faint chuckle. It wasn’t as if this was a burden to him. He got great sex with his best friend out of this arrangement, after all.

“I know. But still,” Merlin added. He closed his eyes, signalling the end of the conversation. Though Gwaine knew it would take him some time to fall asleep. It always did.

He was content to just hold Merlin, carding his hands through his friend’s messy black hair. His own body felt heavy in the afterglow. Gwaine sighed with a grin on his lips. That was an evening well-spent.

Chapter Text

The atmosphere in Arthur’s chambers was quiet and intimate. The setting sun cast its warm light across the room, painting everything in golden hues. Merlin had brought Arthur his dinner. Now, he was free for the evening. However, Arthur had asked him to stay a little bit longer. To spend the evening with him like they used to. The hopeful look in Arthur’s eyes was very hard to refuse, but Merlin steeled himself. He was close to shattering under the pressure that had accumulated during the past two weeks, and for once it wasn’t Arthur’s fault. If anything, Arthur had been kinder and more understanding than usual. However, the added workload that Gaius now regularly delegated to him due to his aging body and the relentless assassination attempts directed against the young king would be enough to make anyone beg for a break.

“Come on, we could share some wine. It’s been so long since we last had a quiet evening together, Merlin,” Arthur insisted.

It was unfair how charming Arthur could look when he wanted to. His earnest blue eyes tried digging through the thick walls Merlin erected around his soul.

“And then, I’d have to convince your drunken ass to get into your nightclothes and drag you to your bed,” Merlin replied dryly.

Arthur’s face fell, and Merlin felt guilt wrap tightly around his throat. He hated being the reason for that expression.

It was even worse when Arthur looked at him with a forlorn pout and asked, “You already have plans for the evening, don’t you?”

And Merlin was this close from informing Gwaine that he couldn’t join him at the tavern later. Just to see Arthur smile. Just for the heavy raincloud that hung over his head to dissipate. But Merlin also knew that he needed a break from Arthur. He loved the king dearly. Arthur and Gwaine were his best friends; people he knew he could rely on. But Arthur was also technically his employer. And Merlin really needed a break from anything work-related.

“I’m sorry, I’m seeing Gwaine tonight,” Merlin revealed.

If Merlin didn’t have a fairly good idea of how the evening would proceed, he’d invite Arthur to join them. But the last thing he needed was for Arthur to hear the barely disguised inuendo Gwaine would spout after a few drinks. That would be mortifying.

“Alright, have fun,” Arthur said with a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Even though he was looking forward to seeing Gwaine, Merlin’s heart ached as he left the room. He hated the feeling of guilt that settled heavily like a brick in his stomach.

“You know that our dear Princess can take care of himself for one evening, right, Merls?” Gwaine said after another failed attempt at making Merlin laugh.

Merlin sighed, dropping his head into his hands. He grimaced at the sticky wood under his elbows. “I know. I just hate to see him unhappy.”

Under the table, Gwaine lightly kicked Merlin’s shins. When Merlin raised his face to glare at him, Gwaine only smirked deviously.

“You just need a good distraction,” he said suggestively.

Merlin knew the kind of distraction Gwaine was offering, and his body already reacted at the prospect of physical pleasure to drown out the anxious thoughts that kept plaguing his mind. Before coming up with this arrangement, the only kind of sex Merlin ever had was a quick wank when he felt too wired to fall asleep. It had been pleasant, but nothing extraordinary. While Merlin still didn’t understand the concept of sexual attraction – the idea that people could want to have sex with someone specific right after meeting them was baffling to him – he understood why people enjoyed sex.

“There was something I wanted to try. I think you might like it,” Gwaine added.

From experience, Gwaine often had brilliant ideas when it came to intercourse. He was also very respectful of Merlin’s refusal to try some of those ideas. Gwaine never pushed. He never made Merlin feel like he had to accept anything for the sake of their arrangement. Merlin could simply say that he wasn’t in the mood for sex but would enjoy cuddling if Gwaine was open to it, and Gwaine would agree. Even when Gwaine was incredibly horny, he’d make sure Merlin wasn’t bothered by his obvious erection while he tried to vow it away by the power of his mind. When that wasn’t feasible, he’d excuse himself and quickly took care of it on his own. Merlin always felt safe with Gwaine.

Gwaine’s room was as messy as ever. Though, Merlin noticed the knight had finally brought his pile of dirty laundry to the washers. He felt for them. At least, he only had to wash Arthur’s clothes. Merlin lit a few candles across the room without needing to be asked. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to find out what Gwaine had planned for the evening.

The room was pleasantly warm. The early summer night chill hadn’t penetrated through the thick walls. He was grateful for it as Gwaine started stripping him, slowly but surely. There was no urgency of desperation in his movements, only quiet confidence. Merlin already felt the stress he had accumulated over the past week start to drain from his body, leaving him pliant and open. Gwaine looked at him with such blatant affection that Merlin would have been scared of what it could mean if he didn’t know Gwaine so well.

Once Merlin was fully naked, Gwaine led him to the bed. After making sure Merlin was lying comfortably on his back, he instructed Merlin to put his hands above his head. Merlin looked at him curiously but obeyed. A wide leather band wrapped securely around Merlin’s wrists. Tight enough that Merlin’s hands couldn’t slip free, but loose enough not to cut his circulation, which Merlin was grateful for. They both knew that Merlin could easily free himself if he really wanted to, but Merlin saw no reason to do that. Not when it was Gwaine binding his wrists.

“Is this alright?” Gwaine asked, looking into Merlin’s eyes intently.

This wasn’t just a token question. Merlin knew that he could ask Gwaine to untie him and the knight would comply instantly without question or hesitation.

“Yes,” Merlin replied simply. He was still curious where this was going, but he enjoyed the anticipation of not knowing what Gwaine had planned.

“Close your eyes,” Gwaine asked.

Merlin didn’t need to think before he did as he was told. A stripe of soft fabric covered his eyes. Merlin lifted his head off the pillow to allow Gwaine to wrap it around his head and tie it securely. The knot rested snugly at the base of Merlin’s skull. Merlin opened his eyes experimentally and observed that the soft fabric was so opaque that he couldn’t see anything through it. Strangely, instead of causing him apprehension, Merlin felt himself sink further into the mattress, completely relaxed.

“That’s nice,” he commented softly.

Gwaine chuckled somewhere above him. “Glad you’re having a good time.”

For a few seconds, Merlin was left alone, just lying naked on Gwaine’s surprisingly comfortable bed with his hands bound and a blindfold over his eyes. In any other context, it would have sent his heart racing and made alarms blare into his mind. With Gwaine, it just made him feel oddly at peace.

“You don’t need to do anything, Merls. Just relax and enjoy yourself. And tell me if you don’t like something,” Gwaine said against the shell of Merlin’s ear.

The sensation of Gwaine’s warm breath and quiet voice in his ear made Merlin shiver. He hummed. He couldn’t be bothered to form words at the moment. His whole body felt heavy, as if it were anchored to the bed with lead weights. But it didn’t made Merlin feel trapped. He felt safe. The sensation was reminiscent of the few seconds before he succumbed to a deep, dreamless sleep.

Goosebumps appeared on Merlin’s skin at the touch of slightly rough, worn-out leather on his bare arm. The light caress descended from his elbow to his armpit. Slowly, carefully. It allowed Merlin to feel the texture of what he assumed to be an old glove. The leather was smooth from use yet still retained enough coarseness to catch on his sensitive skin. Some patches were slightly cracked, giving the gentle stroke a certain bluntness.

Gwaine’s hand was warm even through the thick leather. Merlin sighed as Gwaine ran the back if his fingers up and down his side. The leather there was rougher. It caught on Merlin’s damp skin. Then, Gwaine teased Merlin’s lower belly with the tip of his leather-clad fingers. He dragged them up Merlin’s abdomen to his sternum. And suddenly, Merlin’s back arched off the bed when his nipples were pinched and rolled and rubbed by gloved fingers.

The sensation felt more intense when he couldn’t see what Gwaine was doing. Merlin’s hands scrambled for purchase, yanking on the crumpled sheets. He wished he could tangle his fingers into Gwaine’s soft brown hair, but he dutifully kept his hands above his head. His own moans sounded obscenely loud to his ears. Gwaine didn’t relent, even when Merlin started writhing from the stimulation.

Just as the feeling of his nipples being rubbed raw started to become overwhelming, the rough leather was replaced with something light and soft. A ticklish sensation on his abused skin tore a keen out of Merlin’s drooling mouth. Merlin focused on the gentle touch on his sweaty skin. It felt like a feather. Merlin could almost see the grin on Gwaine’s face as his friend ran the feather up and down Merlin’s neck, eliciting a wet chuckle.

“Tickles,” Merlin said sluggishly, trying to lean away from it.

“That’s the idea,” Gwaine replied with laughter in his voice. “Still enjoying yourself?” Gwaine asked, pausing his ministrations as he waited for Merlin’s answer.

A smile tugged at Merlin’s lips and he hummed, nodding the best he could. His body contorted as the touch of the feather returned, this time circling his navel. Merlin’s muscles were getting sore from laughing and twisting away from the persistent tickle. The arousal that had been building up in his lower belly was receding, but Merlin didn’t mind.

Apparently, though, Gwaine had other plans. The feather teased its way down the light trail of hairs leading down from Merlin’s navel. Merlin’s cock twitched at the barely-there touch to his pelvis. His breath hitched when the feather ran from the base to the tip of his half-hard shaft.

“Still good?” Gwaine asked.

Merlin appreciated the frequent check-ins. He knew Gwaine would stop if Merlin told him to at any time, but his brain felt mushy and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do something other than blast Gwaine away with his magic if he needed him to stop. It also made Merlin feel safe and cared for.

“Yeah, perfect,” Merlin mumbled. It required some effort to remember how to speak.

Gwaine gently pressed a kiss to Merlin’s sternum. Merlin could feel the smile on Gwaine’s lips. Gwaine’s short beard chafed at his skin, adding more contrasting sensations to the heady mixture. Merlin sighed when the feather brushed lightly on the underside of his cock. It tickled his balls, the feeling weirdly pleasant. The buzz of arousal burned low in his belly, building patiently. Merlin didn’t feel the pressing need for release. In fact, he’d probably be content not to cum. His cock was hardening under Gwaine’s insistent touch, but it didn’t ache for more.

A sigh leaked out of Merlin’s mouth when the feather went on to brush against his inner thighs. Merlin had discovered how sensitive he was there the first time he had sex with Gwaine. The lightest touch made him shiver.

“Your thighs are sinful Merlin. I don’t think you realise. They’re an irresistible tool of temptation,” Gwaine whispered softly, his warm breath ghosting against the sensitive skin that the feather had tickled deliciously.

Merlin moaned, resisting the urge to disobey Gwaine’s instructions and bury his hands into Gwaine’s hair to guide his mouth down on his thigh. He wanted Gwaine’s mouth, his tongue, the bite of his teeth.

“It’s crazy how sensitive you are here,” Gwaine said casually.

Merlin threw his head back when Gwaine’s gloved fingers started pinching and rubbing the skin of his left thigh while the feather kept stroking up and down his right one. The dual sensation provided by the different materials on that sensitive spot had his head spinning. The arousal that had been simmering patiently now started bubbling in his guts. Gwaine didn’t relent, even as Merlin started panting and whining. Merlin’s thighs shook. His abs contracted. Distantly, Merlin thought he might be able to cum just from his thighs being played with like that. He didn’t need to see Gwaine to feel his focused gaze on him.

The feather was discarded, replaced with Gwaine’s mouth. His hot tongue followed the feather’s trail from Merlin’s knee to the apex of his thigh and back down. His other thigh must have been rubbed red by Gwaine’s leather-clad hand. The irritated skin stung in the best way. Merlin didn’t know how, but Gwaine managed to remove his glove. His palm felt warm and soft on Merlin’s raw skin. But Merlin didn’t have time to focus on that for too long because then, Gwaine sank his teeth into the soft flesh of his other thigh. His mouth sucked around the bite. The pain sent a jolt up Merlin’s spine. He knew his neglected cock was leaking profusely. Yet, Merlin didn’t want it to be touched. Not yet at least.

“Don’t stop, Gwaine, please,” Merlin begged brokenly.

Gwaine hummed against Merlin’s abused skin, the vibrations setting his nerves on fire. The hand on his other thigh continued petting his skin with dizzying gentleness. Until it stopped at the top of Merlin’s thigh, where his flesh was supple and his skin frighteningly sensitive, and dug its nails there. Gwaine raked his blunt nails down the length of Merlin’s right thigh, making Merlin moan and arch off the bed as more precum pooled at the base of his cock. The mouth on his left thigh left a trail of open-mouthed kisses. On his way back up to the top of it, Gwaine sucked dark hickeys into the pale skin of Merlin’s inner thigh.

And then, he planted his teeth and his nails at the same time, creating twin marks on both sides. The pain, so similar yet different, went straight to Merlin’s cock. He gripped the bedsheets above his head so tight he might have ripped them as his release crashed on him.

When he came back to himself, Merlin whimpered as Gwaine gently stroked the sore skin of his thighs.

“Good thing I asked Gaius for some ointment for irritated skin,” Gwaine said with a kiss to Merlin’s inflamed thigh.

“You’re a beast, Gwaine,” Merlin said with fond exasperation, tongue heavy in his mouth.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy that,” Gwaine shot back cockily.

Merlin hated that Gwaine was totally right. Merlin had no place to complain when he had come untouched just from his thighs being toyed with. He was still stuck in a sort of haze. The fuzzy feeling in his brain hadn’t yet completely dissipated. Merlin felt more relaxed than he had in ages. His whole body still tingled with the ghost touch of leather and feather.

He was so pliant, so blissed-out. He wondered what it would be like for Gwaine to use him while he was in this state. Bound and blindfolded, his limbs comfortably heavy. So helpless.  Gwaine’s clothed cock brushed against Merlin’s naked thigh as he moved to sit beside him on the bed. It was hard, straining against the constricting fabric of Gwaine’s trousers.

“Want you to use me,” Merlin slurred. Fatigue was quickly dragging him down now that the pent-up stress had been purged from his system and with the post-orgasmic haze settling in. “Use my mouth.”

“Are you sure, Merls?” Gwaine asked with restrained desire.

Merlin loved him so much. Gwaine was the best person he could ever hope to have sex with. Merlin nodded firmly and opened his mouth as wide as he could in invitation. He wasn’t sure how wide his jaw actually opened. His senses were dulled. Every movement felt at once too ample and too small. But Gwaine knew that when Merlin asked to be used, he meant it. The knight would just have to adjust Merlin’s mouth to his liking.

The mattress dipped on either side of Merlin’s head. So close, he could smell the musky scent of Gwaine’s arousal. His mouth watered at the prospect of having Gwaine’s thick cock filling it. Drool dribbled down his cheeks as he kept his lips parted. Gwaine hovered over him for a moment. He took one of Merlin’s still bound hands in his, tangling their fingers.

“Squeeze my hand twice if you need to stop,” Gwaine said, waiting for Merlin’s answer.

“Understood,” Merlin said, although the word sounded slightly indistinct to his ears.

It seemed to satisfy Gwaine, though. The coarse fabric of Gwaine’s trousers brushed Merlin’s cheeks and his breath caught as he realised that Gwaine had only shoved it down enough to free himself. Merlin’s jaw was forced to open further as Gwaine fed him his cock. It met no resistance as it slid down to the back of Merlin’s throat.

Above him, Gwaine moaned. “Fuck Merls, that’s so hot. You’re taking me so easily.”

The wet squelch of Gwaine fucking Merlin’s mouth filled the room, accompanied by Gwaine’s heavy breaths and breathy moans and the intermittent gurgles of Merlin attempting to swallow his saliva past the girth of Gwaine’s shaft. It created an obscene symphony that dragged Merlin in a sort of meditative state. He loved the weight of Gwaine on his tongue, the way he couldn’t close his lips around his cock, the taste of precum in his mouth, the slight ache in his throat. He loved the way Gwaine gripped his hair as his pace turned from measured, long strokes to erratic, forceful thrusts. He loved the bruising grip Gwaine had on his hand, while still making sure Merlin would be able to squeeze if he needed to.

Too soon, Gwaine buried himself deep down Merlin’s throat. So deep that Merlin’s nose was smothered by coarse pubic hair. Gwaine shook as he emptied himself. His high-pitched, stuttered moans echoed across the room. Even after he was done, Gwaine remained sheathed into Merlin’s mouth for a moment longer. And he chased some last vestiges of pleasure by thrusting his softening cock in and out of Merlin’s mouth. A shudder ran through the knight when Merlin regained enough self-awareness to wrap his lips around the tip of Gwaine’s cock and suck playfully on it.

“That was amazing,” Gwaine breathed, sounding awestruck and pleasantly spent.

He gently undid the knot keeping Merlin’s blindfold in place. The dim light of the room felt too bright when Merlin was exposed to it. He scrunched his eyes closed with a grimace and a disgruntled groan. Gwaine chuckled, kissing the spot between his eyebrows. Merlin’s hands were quickly unbound as well, with Gwaine massaging and kissing the slightly chafed skin.

“I haven’t felt this good in a long time,” Merlin sighed happily.

He fell in a doze as Gwaine’s surprisingly gentle hands applied ointment to his abused skin. He knew he would hate the sting in the morning, but for now, he sank into the mattress as he distantly enjoyed the warmth coming from his skin and the soft touch of Gwaine’s hands.

When Merlin finally went back to his little room at the back of Gaius’s chambers, he walked on legs that felt like they were made of jelly and his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. His body was at once light as a feather and heavy as an anvil. All the tension that had kept his muscles coiled tightly had been methodically drained out of him by Gwaine’s careful hands, leaving him blissfully loose. And knowing how salutary these evenings with Gwaine were, Merlin wondered how he ever survived without them.

Chapter Text

“Sit down, Merlin. I need to talk to you,” Arthur requested as Merlin set the tray laden with an assortment of light foods on the table. He gestured to the chair at the opposite side of the table and when Merlin took his seat, he pushed the tray between them in a silent invitation for Merlin to dig in.

Arthur was trying to convince his heart to stop hammering like it wanted to escape his ribcage and his bowels to stop twisting like a wild snake in his belly. It was just Merlin, he reminded himself. His closest friend. The man he confided in when his mind tormented him and who always offered sound advice. Yes, Merlin could be sarcastic and abrasive, but he was never mean, and he never judged Arthur when it truly mattered. There was no reason for that to change now.

“What is troubling you?” Merlin asked, leaning forward. His brow was creased in concern as he looked intently at Arthur, as if trying to see the thoughts that plagued Arthur’s mind through the layers of flesh and bones of Arthur’s skull.

Arthur sighed. He slowly chewed on a slice of dried meat, obviously stalling. This conversation felt way more daunting than it had any right to be. This felt so reminiscent of old times, before Arthur became king. Before Merlin started seeing Gwaine. They never shared a meal like this nowadays. The bitterness that coated his palate at the thought of the knight made Arthur feel selfish. He should be happy for his friends. Instead, he felt the need to cling to Merlin with all his strength, desperate to keep him by his side.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Gwaine lately,” Arthur said once he didn’t have any excuse to remain silent any longer. He’d tried to sound nonchalant, but the words came out stilted and awkward.

Merlin tilted his head to the side like a confused dog. It was terribly cute. Merlin was cute. And very handsome. And unfortunately, already taken. It took way too long for Arthur to realise that he was constantly pushing Merlin away and treating him roughly because he was scared of his feelings towards his manservant. And now it was too late. He’d taken too long to realise that he loved Merlin, and in the meantime, someone else had come and showed Merlin the appreciation he deserved. Or perhaps Merlin would have never been interested in Arthur. Either way, Arthur had waited too long, and now it was too late to make a move.

But even if Arthur couldn’t be with Merlin as a lover, he still wanted to salvage their friendship. Merlin was one of the few good things that happened to Arthur. And most of the other good things in his life had been brought to him through Merlin. He was a bright spot in Arthur’s world. A steady presence, always by his side. And Arthur didn’t want to lose him.

“Yeah, I suppose I have,” Merlin replied, looking like he didn’t see where Arthur was going with this conversation.

“I’m glad we get to spend some time together, just the two of us. It’s been a while,” Arthur said, and he hated that he couldn’t speak more clearly, skirting around the edges of what he really wanted to say. That he couldn’t just tell Merlin that he’d missed him.

Merlin’s face softened. He smiled at Arthur with that unbridled affection that made his heart race. It felt unfair to be subjected to that loving smile without being able to love Merlin in return. And Merlin probably had no idea what he was doing to Arthur.

“I missed these quiet moments with you too,” Merlin replied sincerely.

The words sent an arrow straight to Arthur’s heart. It hurt, and yet it healed an insecurity that had been growing like a gaping wound in him. Rationally, Arthur knew that Merlin valued their friendship. He knew that he wouldn’t cast Arthur away just because he got a boyfriend. But Arthur had felt left out and wanted over the previous weeks, and hearing Merlin say that he still wanted to spend time with him was embarrassingly comforting.

Arthur took the time to look at Merlin. Really look at him. Not just a passing glance but a deep observation of his friend. He had to admit that being in a relationship looked good on him. Merlin seemed more relaxed, better rested. He looked less like he was perpetually walking on the edge of a nervous breakdown. While Arthur wished he could be the cause of Merlin’s improved mental state, he was still glad that Merlin had found someone to take care of him. At the same time, he felt terribly guilty. He knew he could be a self-centred prat, as Merlin described him, but he possessed enough self-awareness to know that he was the cause of most of Merlin’s anxiety.

“You’ve been a lot less stressed-out since you started dating Gwaine,” Arthur mentioned conversationally, although his usual awkwardness leaked into his words unbidden.

Arthur didn’t know how he expected Merlin to respond, but Merlin’s bemused expression and rapid blinking certainly weren’t on his list of potential reactions. Suddenly, he felt totally inadequate. Like he’d once again said the wrong thing and ruined everything. His palms were moist where they gripped his shirt under the table. He wished a hole would open under his chair and swallow him before he could embarrass himself further.

It took a few, endless seconds for Merlin’s brain to start working again. But even then, he looked at Arthur as if he were a riddle Merlin needed to solve.

“Gwaine and I aren’t dating,” Merlin replied after a moment, seemingly still confused about how Arthur had reached that conclusion.

It was Arthur’s turn to be stumped. “You spend several evenings in his company every week, and sometimes when you arrive in the morning you look… floaty. As if you’d spent a really good time. And you two seem really close in general,” Arthur rattled off, as if by explaining his reasoning he could make his conclusion true. Which was stupid, because Arthur didn’t want Merlin and Gwaine to be dating. It was actually a good thing for him that they weren’t. But his observations made no sense to him if they weren’t together.

A bright blush spread over Merlin’s cheeks, turning even the tip of his ears pink. His mouth flapped, like he was trying to speak but no sound came out. It seemed Arthur had finally broken Merlin. And then, he dropped his face on the table with a dull thud and just remained there for a few seconds. His shoulders were rising and falling with every deep breath he took. Arthur almost wanted to take his words back. He was about to tell Merlin to just forget about it, that he didn’t have to explain anything he wasn’t comfortable to. But then, Merlin slowly righted himself and cleared his throat.

“Gwaine and I have an… arrangement of sorts. We’re not dating, we’re not in love or anything like that. Neither of us is interested in having a romantic relationship. We’re close friends and that satisfies us entirely,” Merlin started. And Arthur was slightly confused about Merlin’s earlier reaction if all there was between Gwaine and Merlin was a friendship. But then, Merlin took a deep breath and started speaking again. “We also have sex together. I’m… not attracted to Gwaine like that. Or to anyone for that matter. But I trust Gwaine and sex feels good and it helps me manage my stress.”

It was now Arthur’s turn to just stare blankly at Merlin as his brain tried to process the information he’d received. Jealousy burned like acid in his guts. He tried to chase it away, but his mind kept coming up with images of Gwaine touching Merlin, of Merlin moaning and writhing under Gwaine. And Arthur didn’t even desire Merlin in this way. He’d never even entertained the thought of lying with Merlin. If anything, the thought of being sexual with Merlin made his stomach twist uncomfortably. But he wanted intimacy. He wanted to hold Merlin in his arms, to kiss him softly, to tangle their fingers together and feel the warmth of Merlin’s palm in his own. And he couldn’t have that. But Gwaine regularly had sex with Merlin.

“So, you have sex with Gwaine even though you’re not into him like that?” Arthur asked, voice rough from the burning acid of bile and corrosive thoughts he’d swallowed.

Merlin shrugged. “Yeah. To me it’s like,” Merlin paused, searching for a way to put his thoughts into intelligible words, “It’s like that time I massaged your shoulders to relieve the tension, when you’d just become king. I don’t need to be attracted to you in any way to enjoy doing that. It was just a nice moment. I wouldn’t do that for just anyone, but I feel comfortable with you.”

Arthur hummed thoughtfully. It didn’t entirely make sense to him, but he wasn’t about to question Merlin’s experience. As long as he wasn’t pressured into doing something he didn’t want, Arthur supposed he had no right to interfere.

For a while, there was silence as they both picked at their food. The air around them was charged with unsaid words. It felt heavy in a way that Arthur rarely experienced around Merlin. It reminded him of the time Merlin revealed that he had magic. Arthur felt like they were standing on the edge of a precipice and he wasn’t sure whether the fall would shatter everything between them or bring them closer together.

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting our friendship,” Merlin said quietly, looking at Arthur with a small, rueful smile.

While those weren’t the words Arthur wished to hear – he knew he’d never hear those words from Merlin – they still warmed his heart. Arthur would have to make peace with the fact that his feelings for Merlin would for ever remain unreciprocated. But having Merlin’s friendship was just as precious.

“It’s alright,” Arthur reassured. “I don’t resent you for it. But I’d really appreciate if we could spend more time together.”

The grin Merlin offered him shone brighter than the sun. Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. He swallowed around the words clustered at the back of his throat, clamouring to be let out. He couldn’t set them free; they would ruin everything. This love felt too big to be corralled in Arthur’s chest, but he had to keep it locked in.

“Let’s spend the evening together,” Merlin suggested, unaware of Arthur’s turmoil. “I’ll bring something to eat, and I’m sure you have a good bottle for us to share.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Arthur replied easily.

Arthur didn’t spend the afternoon questioning whether this had been a wise decision. That would be ridiculous. It was just a lazy evening with Merlin. They’d done this plenty of times before. And yes, Arthur often had to suppress the urge to kiss Merlin, or refrain from staring at the way his face looked in the flickering light of the flames dancing in the fireplace. But he’d managed before. This evening would be no different. And yet, Arthur still felt like he was on the edge of something. Something monumental. Something frightening. But there was a certain appeal to staring at the bottom of a cliff. And Arthur feared he liked the thrill of the fall just a little too much.

When Merlin came back at dusk, carrying a platter of roasted vegetables and cold meat, Arthur had to squash down the contradictory urges to hide in a dark corner of his room on the one hand and to pull Merlin in a tight embrace and never let go on the other hand. As a result, he remained rooted in place, as if Merlin’s entrance had petrified him. Somehow, he was sure that if he did or said anything, he would come off as weird. It seemed like Arthur had forgotten how to behave as his usual self.

“Are you coming or do you plan on standing there all evening?” Merlin asked with a raised eyebrow.

Arthur had no idea how much time had passed. Enough for Merlin to neatly stack two plates with mouthwatering food and light a candle to ward off the advancing darkness that started invading the room. Arthur shook himself out of his daze. Though his hands weren’t as steady as they usually were when he picked up a bottle of liquor he’d received from some foreign ambassador. He couldn’t remember where it came from, and he honestly didn’t care. All that mattered was that it was stronger than the watered wine he usually drank, and as such was exactly what he needed, unwise as it was.

Merlin recounted some gossip he’d overheard from other servants as they ate. Arthur could barely focus on his words, entranced as he was by the way Merlin gesticulated animatedly as he talked and by how his expressive face reflected every one of his emotions like a beautifully honest mirror of his heart.

Of course, Arthur knew Merlin wasn’t a saint. Though he’d remained more or less wilfully blind to Merlin’s heavy secrets for a long time, he had since opened his eyes. And the darkness he found under the radiant surface of Merlin’s smile didn’t deter him in the slightest. Perhaps, it even deepened his love for Merlin. He loved all the contradictions that somehow meshed perfectly to form the complex picture of Merlin’s whole. He loved the sincere silliness, the genuine kindness, the persistent gentleness, just as much as he loved the shadowy parts that lurked right underneath Merlin’s skin; the ruthlessness, the cold calculation, the blood that permanently stained his hands. He wanted to embrace all of it.

Arthur finished the food on his plate without even really tasting any of it. Which was a shame, because he was sure it was delicious. But the sight of Merlin in front of him was absorbing all his attention. Somehow, Merlin managed to eat and breathe even while he rambled. It was fascinating. Even though Merlin hadn’t drunk much, his cheeks were already rosy by the time he finished his food.

Now that they had finished their meal, Arthur felt awkward seating at the table in front of Merlin. It was too formal for them. Too much distance separated him from his friend. Arthur started fidgeting with his signet ring. The room felt too small, like a cage instead of cocoon.

Merlin turned towards the tall window, looking outside for a few seconds before facing Arthur again. “Hey, let’s go outside. The night’s beautiful,” Merlin suggested with a sloppy grin, already affected by what little alcohol he had consumed.

Arthur didn’t know how successful he was at hiding the relief that flooded him at Merlin’s proposition. He always seemed to know what Arthur needed, even before Arthur himself realised it. How could he be expected not to fall in love with this perfect man?

“Yeah, why not,” Arthur replied, hoping he sounded more nonchalant than he felt. Not that Merlin would notice anyway; he already seemed distracted by something else.

Arthur grabbed the still mostly full bottle plum brandy almost as an afterthought. Merlin followed him through the empty corridors that led to the battlements on the western aisle of the castle. He still talked, his reserve of gossip and mundane anecdotes never drying up. Arthur wouldn’t have it any other way.

The cool summer breeze that greeted them when they emerged outside felt blissful on Arthur’s heated face. It seemed to clear his thoughts and quieten his hammering heart. He’d always enjoyed coming up here. The hectic noises of the busy castle faded, leaving him in a peaceful bubble of silence. When life felt overwhelming, Arthur retreated here, where he could just breathe for a while. He’d come here with Merlin on many occasions, finding solace in his friend’s steady presence. But it felt different tonight. It still offered him that sensation of peace, but there was something more to it. Something charged with infinite possibilities.  

Arthur leaned on the wall, resting his head on his crossed arms. Merlin came to stand beside him, almost close enough to brush against Arthur’s side. Just too far for their bodies to touch. He leaned forward, palms pressed on the cooling stone. Merlin was staring at the sky with an air of wonder. It was indeed a beautiful night. Stars were blooming on the cerulean sky. The last remnants of sunlight desperately clung on the horizon, creating an entrancing gradient of blue. The moon wasn’t full. It wouldn’t be for a few days yet. But it was forming an uneven circle that radiated pale silvery light. Arthur didn’t really care about the sky, though. Merlin was making a much more alluring sight than any celestial phenomenon ever could.

The bottle of plum brandy rested between them. Arthur had a feeling it wouldn’t remain full for long. Arthur lazily opened it and drank a few large gulps. The alcohol burned his throat, making him grimace. But the warmth that spread throughout his body was rewarding enough to be worth the initial discomfort. He handed the bottle to Merlin. Stray drops of liquor leaked down the corner of his mouth. Arthur had to fight the sudden urge to find out how it tasted on Merlin’s skin.

They passed the bottle back and forth. Arthur drank more than Merlin. But Merlin was getting drunk alarmingly fast. His eyelids drooped slightly and his smile turned sluggish. The way his heavy tongue made his speech slurred shouldn’t have been as enticing as it was to Arthur. The buzz of alcohol was making Arthur’s thoughts hazy. He shifted closer to Merlin, seeking even the slightest contact between their bodies. And Merlin didn’t move away. It was becoming more and more difficult to remember why kissing Merlin would be a terrible idea.

And when Merlin laughed at some scathing comment Arthur made about a noble they both disliked, his eyes crinkling and his lips stretching, pulling his red cheeks up, Arthur’s resolve dissolved.

There was no conscious deliberation. Not even a clear intent. Arthur barely realised what he was doing as he cupped Merlin’s cheek and slotted their mouths together in an uncoordinated kiss. It lasted only a second. Not even long enough for Merlin to react.

“I love you,” Arthur confessed, brushing his thumb against Merlin’s warm cheek.

Merlin gently removed Arthur’s hand from his cheek. And even though the motion had nothing violent, it felt like a punch in Arthur’s gut. The sympathetic smile Merlin offered him made it even worse.

“You’re very dear to me, Arthur,” Merlin said, enunciating each syllable slowly to make up for the way alcohol had made his tongue heavy in his mouth. “But I can’t love you like that.”

“I know,” Arthur said defeatedly.

And he did. Of course, he did. Merlin had explained it to him just a few hours earlier. But the bitter burn of alcohol had reignited the hopes and desires Arthur had managed to squash. The fire of jealousy also flared in his heart. Because, to Merlin’s own admission, he wasn’t sexually attracted to Gwaine, and yet they still had sex together. So why couldn’t Arthur kiss and hold Merlin the way he so ardently wanted to? The thought repulsed Arthur as soon as it formed in his mind. Merlin didn’t owe him anything; he knew that. He’d never consider forcing Merlin to give him something that wasn’t freely offered. It didn’t stop the claws of jealousy to sink deeper into his heart.

“I’m sorry. What I did was very inappropriate. I hope you can forgive me and you’ll still accept me as your friend.” Arthur apologized, unable to meet Merlin’s eyes for fear of what he might find in them. He knew that seeing distrust or repulsion on Merlin’s open face would shatter him. “I probably should go, now. Good night.”

Arthur felt like a coward running away from that awkward situation he had created with his own impulsive actions. But he felt too exposed. Like Merlin’s alcohol-glazed eyes were taking him apart and finding faults in all the disparate fragments that made up Arthur Pendragon. So, he ran. Back to the suffocating emptiness of his room. Leaving Merlin alone in the chill of a clear early summer night.

Chapter Text

Sunlight slid into the little room at the back of Gaius’ chambers through the dirty windowpane, unprotected by curtains or blinds. The sun’s rays stabbed Merlin’s eyes. The young man groaned and dragged his threadbare blanket over his face. It was too early to be awake. His head ached, like his brain pulsed against his skull with every one of his heartbeats. He really shouldn’t have drunk so much the previous night. Everyone always teased him for how he couldn’t hold his alcohol and they were right. Merlin was sure he hadn’t even drunk that much. Arthur had swallowed most of the bottle.

The thought of Arthur brought hazy memories to the fore his mind. Disjointed moments that didn’t quite slot together in a coherent story. Trying to remember made his pounding headache worse. But Merlin felt like there was something important that was hiding just out of reach. He frowned, turning away from the window and lowering the blanket to allow the comfortably cool air of his room to soothe his overheated cheeks. His eyes felt like they had been glued shut while he slept. Trying to open them stung. Merlin wasn’t sure he wanted to see the world yet, anyway.

Frustrated by his blurry memory, Merlin sighed audibly. He attempted to rewind the events of the previous evening; from the moment he entered Arthur’s chambers with a plate full of mouthwatering food. He’d been so happy to spend time with his friend again. Not as a king and his loyal servant and protector, but simply as Arthur and Merlin. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed that. The recollection brought a grin to his face. Merlin remembered he’d talked a lot. And much of it was just empty ramblings. Mindless gossip and silly anecdotes. But Arthur hadn’t protested. In fact, he’d seemed to unwind as he listened to Merlin. So, Merlin had kept on talking. And then, they went outside on the battlements. The night had been so pretty. On the horizon, the sky had been the same colour as Arthur’s eyes. A crystalline blue, so pure, with just a hint of darkness. A faded colour, less vibrant than the azure of a summer day. It had become Merlin’s favourite shade of blue.

And Merlin knew how cheesy that sounded. He knew how that might seem helplessly romantic. But it wasn’t like that. It was a colour he’d come to associate with a friendship so deep, so solid, that it had become a home. Merlin loved Arthur, that was undeniable. He simply wasn’t in love with him. It was just a different kind of love, just as – if not deeper – than the kind that was found in romantic novels some of the Ladies liked to read.

The thought of love brought another fuzzy fragment of the previous night to the front of Merlin’s mind. He remembered he and Arthur passing the bottle of too-strong alcohol back and forth. Arthur’s eyes never seemed to leave his face, as if it was the most interesting thing to look at. Merlin hadn’t noticed back then. His brain had grown sluggish from drunkenness and the simple, peaceful joy of sharing that moment with his dear friend.

And then, Arthur had kissed him. It had been as brief as it was sudden. Arthur had confessed his feelings with a look of soul-deep longing and honey-sweet affection on his face. And Merlin had turned him down. He couldn’t remember exactly what he said. The memory was forever lost to his drunken haze. He couldn't remember what Arthur’s reply had been. But Arthur had left shortly after. And Merlin had stayed for a while longer on the deserted battlement, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events.

Merlin had no idea how he was going to deal with this new development. He hoped it wouldn’t make things awkward with Arthur, but he had no illusions. He groaned as he pushed himself out of bed, almost stumbling as his feet hit the ground. He felt unsteady on his legs and his head still pounded. Merlin rubbed at his eyes, which only served to make colourful shapes appeared behind his closed eyelids. He clumsily got dressed and tried to tame his wild black hair.

When he emerged from his room, he was greeted by Gaius’ judgemental stare accompanied by a dramatically raised eyebrow. At least, the old physician had the kindness to hand him a glass containing a foul but very effective hangover cure. Merlin gagged as he downed the thick, greenish liquid.

“Thanks. That was as disgusting as ever,” Merlin said once he felt like he could open his mouth without retching.

“You wouldn’t have to drink it if you hadn’t gotten yourself drunk last night,” Gaius replied drily.

Merlin didn’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, he simply glared at his mentor. Though, he was sure the effect was dampened by how glassy his eyes must look. In any case, Gaius took pity on him.

“You should go now, unless you want Arthur to shout at you for being late again,” Gaius advised.

Merlin groaned again. However, whether that was at the prospect of seeing Arthur after the previous night or of being shouted at when his head still hurt, Merlin himself wasn’t sure. Thankfully, the cure acted quickly. By the time Merlin entered Arthur’s chambers with the king’s breakfast balanced on his palm, his headache had already subsided.

Another problem presented itself. Merlin realised that he still didn’t know how to approach Arthur. Every option he thought of resulted in inevitable awkwardness in his mind. If he acted distant towards Arthur, that would just send the king into overthinking and Merlin didn't want his friend to think he resented him. But if he tried to act as if nothing happened, Merlin knew he’d seem off. He’d never been very good at pretending, for all the secrets that he harboured over the years. Arthur would see through it and think that Merlin was uncomfortable with him. Indecision kept him rooted in place in the middle of the room, Arthur’s full plate still in his hand.

In the end, he was forced to react when Arthur started stirring. Merlin quickly put the plate down on the table with a metallic clang, which caused Arthur to jolt awake and sit up in his bed. His dishevelled blond hair stuck in his eyes. He was due for a haircut. Merlin was always taken aback by how young and vulnerable Arthur looked in those first few seconds of wakefulness. It was a fleeting instant, before the young kind became fully conscious, when sleep still clung to the corners of his mind.

A tiny smile pulled Merlin’s lips up on its own accord. Despite all his whining about how insufferable Arthur was in the morning, he felt privileged to be privy to all these intimate moments of the king’s life. He loved taking care of Arthur, even though his friend didn’t always make it easy. He loved that he’d become Arthur’s confident. He loved that Arthur allowed him in, that he accepted to lower the walls of the fortress he’d built around himself for Merlin.

The realisation made the cogs in Merlin’s brain turn. He knew he couldn’t love Arthur the way Arthur loved him. Just like he couldn’t desire Gwaine the way Gwaine desired him. But he’d found an arrangement with Gwaine that satisfied both of them. Maybe the same could be feasible with Arthur.

Merlin didn’t have time to ponder that any longer for the moment. Arthur was already blinking the last remnants of sleep out of his eyes. His disoriented gaze landed on Merlin and his open face closed off instantly. It made Merlin’s heart ache. It had been a long, long time since Arthur last kept Merlin at arm's length.

“Hope you’re not as hungover as I was,” Merlin attempted to joke.

He was disheartened when it fell flat. He’d hoped engaging Arthur in their usual light banter would lighten the mood and chase away any awkwardness, but Arthur wasn’t receptive to it. It wasn’t rare for Arthur to look despondent. But Merlin usually wasn’t the cause for Arthur’s downcast mood.

To his credit, Arthur tried to smile at Merlin’s poor attempt at a joke. But the smile didn’t reach his eyes. It barely stretched his lips. The room was unusually silent as Arthur got up and started picking at his food with no appetite. The silence felt heavy. Like the air before a summer thunderstorm. Arthur pushed his half-full plate away.

Their smooth routine was stilted. Everything felt laborious. As Merlin helped Arthur into his armour for training, he felt like he was helping a stranger instead of a dear friend. He didn’t resent Arthur. He understood that the king needed to lick his emotional wounds. But he still hated the rift that had grown between them overnight. And the worst part was that he had no idea how to comfort Arthur.

Arthur stopped with his hand on the doorknob and, without looking at Merlin, he said, “I promise I won’t let my feelings for you come in the way of our friendship. I just need some time.”

“I know. I understand. You can take all the time you need, Arthur,” Merlin replied. And he sincerely believed it. He ached at seeing Arthur so dejected. He wanted nothing more than to squeeze Arthur’s arm or his hand or to pull him into a hug. But he didn’t know whether physical contact would be welcome. It felt weird, being so restrained and hesitant with Arthur.

As always, Arthur used training to expel all his turmoil. He pushed the knights harder, was curt and demanding with his men, and even more with himself. Several times, Merlin winced as a less experienced knight lost his footing or failed to parry a blow from Arthur. On any other day, the king would have helped them back up on their feet and offered advice and encouragements. Today, he barked at them for being too sloppy, too slow, too distracted. Even Arthur’s close circle wasn’t exempt from the rough treatment. Or rather, Arthur pushed them even harder than the other knights. Merlin was sure Lancelot earned himself a sprained wrist from a clumsy parry. Elyan would definitely need some of Gaius’ bruise salve. Even Percival had a hard time keeping up with Arthur. He strained under Arthur’s unrestrained blows. But the one who took the brunt of Arthur’s bad mood was Gwaine.

Merlin felt guilty. He had no doubt that his arrangement with Gwaine sparked some jealousy in Arthur’s bruised heart. It was a good thing that Gwaine was a proficient fighter. He was always the only one who managed to handle Arthur when he was frustrated. His footwork was impeccable, his movements fluid and fast, and he fought with the same level of ferocity as Arthur. However, Arthur’s emotional plight fed his stamina in ways that even Gwaine couldn’t keep up with. Eventually, he slipped on a patch of damp grass and fell heavily on the ground with a tired grunt.

It seemed Merlin would be busy patching his friends up this morning.

And busy he was. After observing Merlin’s work quietly for a while, Gaius left to purchase some ingredients he needed at the market. There were no serious injuries that required the old physician’s expertise. Merlin could perfectly take care of them on his own. The knights whined and complained and begged Merlin to do something about Arthur’s bad mood. Merlin only rolled his eyes fondly at their dramatics and promised he’d do what he could.

Gwaine was the last one to visit the physician’s quarters to get his injuries treated. Aside from a few bruises, he only sported a split lower lip from catching the pommel of Arthur’s sword that would require a couple of stitches. Merlin worked with quiet efficiency. It was a good thing that he knew exactly what needed to be done, because his focus was less than optimal.

Once Merlin was done fixing Gwaine’s lip, he started applying some salve on his numerous bruises. But the knight was done staying silent now that it wasn’t required of him any longer.

“What’s the matter with our favourite princess, Merls?” Gwaine asked with clear worry in his voice despite his deceptively light tone.

Merlin sighed and pretended to focus on the large dark blue patch that had bloomed right under the skin of Gwaine’s hip. He was stalling, but he didn’t know what to say. Everything felt confusing in his own head; he didn’t know how to put his jumbled thoughts into words. Gwaine, bless his soul, afforded him the patience he needed.

“Arthur is in love with me,” Merlin confessed eventually. It wasn’t his secret to share, but he didn’t know how else to explain this whole situation.

Instead of being surprised, however, Gwaine snorted. “Yeah, that’s old news Merls. You might have been the last person in Camelot to find that out.”

“How did you know?” Merlin questioned, mildly offended.

Gwaine rolled his eyes and shot Merlin that infuriating smirk that was supposedly very attractive. “I have two functioning eyes.”

Merlin grumbled under his breath. He went back to treating Gwaine’s bruises, even as he felt the weight of the knight’s knowing gaze on the top of his skull. He refused to meet Gwaine’s eyes.

“So, you turned Arthur down and now he’s sad and decided to take his frustration out on us?”

“Yeah. More or less,” Merlin admitted with a heavy sigh.

“But?” Gwaine asked quietly.

There was no pressure to give an answer. Just a nudge. Just to let Merlin know that Gwaine knew there was more to that. An understated offer to share what was weighing on him. Merlin appreciated it.

“I’ve come to realise that maybe there could be a compromise to be found between what Arthur wants and what I can give. Something akin to the arrangement you and I have,” Merlin explained.

He felt terribly exposed under Gwaine’s perceptive gaze. The knight didn’t answer immediately. And though Merlin knew Gwaine was simply thinking it over to offer the best advice he could, it made Merlin feel vulnerable and terribly inadequate.

“Maybe, if you think that could make both of you happy. Just, don’t dismiss your own desires and boundaries to please Arthur. I know how you are sometimes, Merls.”

If Merlin ever told anyone that Gwaine was actually wise, they’d laugh in his face and call him silly. But that was one of the reasons Gwaine became one of his closest friends. He was more than the shallow seductive drunkard he pretended to be. He cared so much. He loved so deeply. Merlin smiled at Gwaine, getting up from his crouched position with a groan and patting Gwaine’s bare shoulder.

“I really think it could make me happy,” Merlin assured his friend.

A wide grin split Gwaine’s face, only for the knight to wince and bring a hand to his injured lip. “Go for it then,” Gwaine said with a more subdued smile.

The distance between Merlin and Arthur seemed to grow exponentially with each passing day. From a small crack, it had evolved into a canyon. And Merlin knew that if he didn’t act quickly, it would become so wide that no bridge could close the gap between them. But every time he tried to talk with Arthur, something derailed their conversation or interrupted it. It seemed like the universe wanted to separate them. However, Merlin refused to let something as fickle as fate or the universe dictate his life.

At last, the perfect opportunity presented itself in the form of a quiet evening with no interruption in sight. The whole day had been uncharacteristically slow and uneventful. Arthur was in a relatively good mood for the first time since that fateful night where everything changed. The heavy patter of rain echoed across the room. The night looked darker with thick clouds obscuring the moon. But the warm flickering light of candles and flames crackling in the hearth created a soft, intimate atmosphere.

“Can we talk?” Merlin asked once he finished folding some clothes and putting them away in Arthur’s closet.

Arthur looked up from the report he was trying to read. He observed Merlin in silence for a few seconds before gesturing for Merlin to sit in the armchair beside his in front of the fireplace. Arthur discarded the report, letting it fall beside his chair with a muffled clap. He leaned forward, giving Merlin his whole attention.

“I can’t love you the way you love me,” Merlin started hesitantly.

“Yes, I understood that the first time you said it,” Arthur replied harshly, recoiling in his seat.

“Wait, please. Hear me out,” Merlin pleaded, heart hammering in his chest as he thought he had ruined this conversation before it had even started.

Arthur exhaled loudly through his nostrils, clearly unhappy with the direction this discussion was taking. But he still gave a reluctant nod.

With a small grateful smile, Merlin continued. “I probably can’t give you everything you want. But I’ve been thinking,”

“That sounds dangerous,” Arthur interrupted again, earning a half-hearted glare from Merlin.

“I think we might be able to come up with an arrangement that could make us both happy,” Merlin finished.

He didn’t dare look into Arthur’s eyes as the silence stretched. His heart got stuck in his throat, making it hard to breathe. With each passing second, Merlin’s hope dwindled. He was bracing for rejection. Perhaps Arthur wanted everything or nothing at all and not the kind of watered-down relationship that Merlin could offer. Perhaps whatever Merlin could give just wasn’t enough.

“I don’t want you to push your boundaries out of some kind of misplaced pity,” Arthur said eventually.

Merlin vehemently shook his head. “That’s not what I’m suggesting.”

“Then what are you proposing?” Arthur asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I don’t mind kissing once in a while, but I probably don’t crave it as much as other people. I’m fine with kisses on the cheeks or forehead, though. And I really like cuddles. I also love taking care of you, even when you’re a prat,” Merlin explained earnestly.

“Those are not things friends typically do together,” Arthur replied breathlessly.

“Who ever said I want a typical friendship with you?” Merlin replied with a choked-up chuckle. “I can’t be a proper lover for you, but I can be a confidant and someone you can lean on. I want to be that person for you. And I want you to be that person for me.”

“And you promise you’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable with anything?” Arthur asked, wonder and doubt battling in his eyes.

“Of course I will, you turniphead. When have I ever done anything, I didn’t want to?” Merlin replied with a fond roll of his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” Arthur asked, his pale blue eyes flicking to Merlin’s lips.

There was no hesitation in Merlin’s mind as he nodded, welcoming Arthur into his arms as their mouth met in a brief but unbearably sweet brush of lips.

“I love you so much,” Arthur sighed as they parted.

As soon as the words were out, Arthur’s eyes widened and he jolted back. “Sorry, I should probably tone it down,” he chuckled humourlessly.

“No, don’t,” Merlin said firmly, pulling Arthur back into his arms and pressing a gentle kiss to Arthur’s cheek. “Don’t hide from me.”

“It doesn't bother you?” Arthur asked, still uncertain despite Merlin’s reassurance.

“No, not at all.” Merlin pulled Arthur closer until the king sat on his lap. A cute blush painted Arthur’s cheeks. A flustered Arthur was a rare sight. Merlin’s magic thrummed happily under his skin, just like his heart beat contentedly in his chest, at being so close to Arthur. Arthur finally relaxed, slumping against Merlin’s chest.

“Oh, there’s one more thing we need to discuss,” Merlin said. Arthur tensed into his arms. “I won’t end my arrangement with Gwaine.”

The relief in Arthur’s sigh was almost palpable as the king deflated. Merlin could feel the outline of a smile where Arthur’s mouth was plastered against his neck. “I’m not interested in that kind of intimacy, anyway,” Arthur confessed.

“Why were you so jealous of Gwaine, then?” Merlin asked, tilting his head back to peek at Arthur.

“I wasn’t jealous,” Arthur mumbled.

“That’s a big fat lie,” Merlin replied, poking Arthur’s side teasingly.

In retaliation, Arthur lightly bit on Merlin’s neck, earning a startled yelp and a smack on the head from Merlin.

“I’m the king, Merlin, I’m not jealous,” Arthur stated, as if that was a perfectly reasonable argument.

“You’re ridiculous, that’s what you are,” Merlin countered with fond exasperation.

Merlin’s legs grew numb under Arthur’s weight resting on his thighs, but he was too content to say anything. Arthur was rambling about negotiations that weren’t going very well with some noble in the north of the kingdom. Merlin would have to ask Arthur to explain the whole situation again tomorrow. He didn’t think Arthur was paying much attention to the words leaving his own mouth either. Merlin ran his hand through Arthur’s soft blond hair like he had craved to but refrained from so many times before. But now he was allowed to. He was allowed to hold Arthur in his arms and kiss his cheek and scratch his scalp and show Arthur that he loved him so much even though he wasn’t in love with him.

“That’s nice,” Arthur mumbled, interrupting his rambling.

“Yeah, it is,” Merlin agreed with a kiss to Arthur’s temple.

Chapter Text

The morning chill hadn’t yet faded when Gwaine made his way to the armoury. Training wouldn’t begin for another half hour, but he felt antsy and too riled up to stay in his room. He needed to move and loosen his stiff muscles, so he decided it wouldn’t hurt to start early. He’d struggled to sleep the previous night. Exhaustion clung to his bones like a leech. He was powered solely by the thrum of persistent arousal and simmered-down frustration. The ground was still muddy from three days of non-stop rain. Training would be hell. He already anticipated all the injuries that would ensue from inexperienced knights slipping on waterlogged grass.

To his surprise, he wasn’t the first one to arrive at the armoury. And he was even more disconcerted by who he found there at such an early hour.

“Merls? What are you doing here?” he asked, looking Merlin over for any sign of distress or hidden wound.

But Merlin simply offered him a content grin. “Arthur’s armour sustained some damage during yesterday’s patrol, and I didn’t get to fix it, so I told him I’d do it before training today,” Merlin explained, lifting the chest plate he was polishing. He stared at Gwaine for an uncomfortable time, as if ready straight through the relaxed exterior the knight was projecting. “What are you doing here this early?” he eventually asked.

“I’ve been horny since yesterday and masturbation didn’t help much, so I thought training might do me some good,” Gwaine explained nonchalantly.

He knew the casual way he could speak about sex rebutted some people. Merlin wasn’t bothered by it though. They always talked rather bluntly about these kinds of things. Merlin was never shy about stating what he wanted from Gwaine, and he appreciated that Gwaine showed the same brand of straightforward honesty. Their relationship was unconventional to say the least, but they always seemed to be on the same wavelength. Being with Merlin was always easy, uncomplicated. Gwaine didn’t have to worry about Merlin falling in love with him and demanding more from Gwaine than what was on offer. And Merlin was no pushover; Gwaine knew he would never do anything he didn’t want just to satisfy Gwaine.

Merlin patted the empty spot on the bench beside him and Gwaine gladly accepted the offer to sit at his friend’s side. Merlin set down the chest plate on the polishing rag and turned towards Gwaine, giving him his whole attention.

“Want me to land a hand?” Merlin asked with a wink and a waggle of his fingers.

Gwaine sputtered at the proposition. “What, here?” he asked incredulously.

Everyone who thought that Merlin was in any way pure or innocent were dearly mistaken, because instead of being flustered, Merlin just shrugged as if this was a perfectly normal thing to suggest. “We still have some time before anyone shows up,” he answered.

“Nah,” Gwaine replied with a snort. “I appreciate the offer but I’m not an exhibitionist. And if you work your magic on me, I fear I might not be able to show off during training.” He then leaned closer to Merlin, purposefully invading his personal space. “If you have some time later in the day, though…” he whispered against the shell of Merlin’s ear.

Gwaine used the sultry, seductive voice he’d perfected over the years. He knew the effect it had on people. He’d seen men get hard and women get wet from innocuous enough words spoken in that suggestive tone. On a good day, it might even draw a quiet, shaky sigh from Merlin. This morning, though, Merlin just playfully swatted Gwaine’s chest and smirked teasingly at him, utterly unaffected. To Gwaine’s dismay, the indifference stoked the ambers of arousal still burning within him.

“I’ll find you when I have a moment this afternoon, then,” Merlin said, before he went back to polishing pieces of Arthur’s armour as if nothing happened.

It was unfair how unaffected Merlin was when Gwaine was stewing in arousal. It took all his self-control to refrain from squirming where he sat on the bench. Just watching Merlin’s slender yet strong hands handle pieces of armour with quiet care did things to Gwaine. It was almost enough to make Gwaine regret not taking Merlin up on his offer. He couldn’t wait to get those hands on him.

However, when Elyan showed up slightly early, Gwaine was suddenly glad that he wasn’t in a compromising position. That would have been embarrassing. At least, the other knight’s arrival gave him something to focus on other than Merlin’s enticing fingers and the arousal churning in his gut. Elyan was good company too. By the time training began, Gwaine’s persistent horniness was relegated at the back of his mind.

Training wasn’t as awful as Gwaine had expected. Arthur was much more relaxed and patient than he had expected. Because of the heavy rainfall over the previous days, training had largely been called off. Arthur still insisted they did some light exercises, as it was indeed important to be able to fight in bad weather. But nothing very demanding. So, seeing Arthur tease his men, offer useful advice and encourage younger recruits was a welcome sight after the hell of their last true training session. Gwaine would have to ask Merlin what happened to lift Arthur’s mood.

Apparently, getting his blood running with a good spar against Percival didn’t help Gwaine getting rid of his half-hard erection. Quite the opposite, actually. He allowed himself a quick wank in the bath. But he was still frustratingly horny. He really hoped Merlin would have some free time this afternoon, because this was making Gwaine crazy. He was very close to seeking out Gaius and asking the old physician what the hell was wrong with his cock. He’d much rather ask Merlin, though. And not even necessarily in a lewd way. Gwaine was starting to think he really might have a problem.

Thankfully, Merlin barged into Gwaine’s room without knocking in the middle of the afternoon. Gwaine could have wept from relief.

“You look terrible,” Merlin said, slightly out of breath as if he had ran all the way from the other side of the castle.

“And you certainly know how to talk to a man,” Gwaine replied with the best impression of a teasing smirk he could muster at the moment.

But even from the distance, Gwaine could tell Merlin had shifted into his analytical mode. He slowly approached Gwaine, observing him with narrowed eyes. Gwaine stiffened when Merlin took his left wrist in his hand and placed two fingers on his pulse point.

“What are you –” Gwaine started, but Merlin quickly interrupted him by placing the index of his free hand on Gwaine’s lips.

“Your pulse is a bit high and you feel a bit hot. Nothing alarming but…” Merlin said, almost as if he was talking to himself more than to Gwaine. “How long have you been hard?” he asked matter-of-factly.

“I was hoping for something different from a doctor’s appointment when I propositioned you this morning, Merls,” Gwaine whined. But when Merlin simply raised an eyebrow at him in a way that was frighteningly reminiscent of Gaius, Gwaine caved. “Since yesterday evening.”

Merlin hummed thoughtfully. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s more uncomfortable than painful,” Gwaine admitted. Then he added, “I’m sure it would feel a lot better if you touched it.”

Merlin rolled his eyes at Gwaine. He didn’t seem too alarmed, which reassure the knight. At least he wasn’t about to die. Or to lose his cock. He wasn’t sure which would be worse. In any case, Gwaine was getting impatient. He understood Merlin’s concern for his health, but right now, Gwaine’s aching cock was demanding a different kind of attention.

“Are you gonna make good on your promise, or should I look for another bed partner for today?” Gwaine asked, reclining against the small pile of pillows he’d gathered at the opening his legs invitingly. He knew that if Merlin had changed his mind or didn’t want any kind of sexual contact, he’d just tell Gwaine to look for someone else.

Merlin climbed on the bed and crawled up the mattress until he hovered over Gwaine’s body. “I’m fine with helping you, but I don’t want to be touched,” Merlin said with a kiss on Gwaine’s cheek.

“You sure?” Gwaine wanted to make sure Merlin didn’t feel pressured.

“Yes,” Merlin replied without a trace of hesitation. “Now take off your clothes.”

The assertive tone made Gwaine’s cock twitch in his tight trousers. The subtle aura of power that always surrounded Merlin became more solid and it had Gwaine drooling. Gwaine wasted no time doing as he was told. His clothes were discarded in a messy pile beside the bed. Merlin, who now sat against the headboard, patted the empty spot between his thighs. His hands were firm and sure on Gwaine’s hips as he guided Gwaine to sit against Merlin’s chest. The coarse fabric of Merlin’s shirt against his back was nowhere near as pleasant as the feeling of skin on skin, but Gwaine welcomed it nonetheless. Two strong hands grabbed the back of Gwaine’s thighs and lifted them to place them on either side of Merlin’s legs. The casual display of dominance made Gwaine whine pathetically.

“Look at you, so worked up already,” Merlin whispered teasingly against Gwaine’s ear.

The feeling of hot breath on his skin sent a shiver down Gwaine’s spine. Merlin’s words went straight to his hard, leaking cock.

“Please, touch me,” Gwaine panted, desperate for any kind of stimulation.

Instead of providing relief to Gwaine’s aching cock, Merlin’s hands started roaming his chest. His fingers pinched Gwaine’s hardened nipples, making the knight arch his back. Gwaine rested his head on Merlin’s shoulder, panting heavily at the torturous pleasure Merlin inflicted on him. Precum leaked down his shaft, pooling on his pelvis. Gwaine turned his head, pressing his lips to the pale skin of Merlin’s neck. He was too far gone to think about what he was doing. But when Merlin stiffened as he left open-mouthed kisses on his neck, Gwaine quickly pulled away and twisted his upper body to look at Merlin.

“Shit! Sorry Merls.”

Gwaine’s pleasure was relegated to the back of his mind as he realised how much he’d fucked up. Merlin had told just a few minutes earlier that he didn’t want to be touched, and Gwaine went and did just that. He was a terrible friend. Drowning in pleasure was no excuse for violating Merlin’s boundaries.

“It’s alright, Gwaine,” Merlin reassured him, cupping Gwaine’s jaw with a delicate hand. His thumb stroked Gwaine’s stubbled chin soothingly.

“No, it’s not. How can you trust me if I get carried away like that so easily?” Just thinking about what he did made Gwaine sick. What if he got so overwhelmed by pleasure that he lost control and went even further? How could Merlin still trust him not to?

But Merlin’s face remained painfully open and kind as he looked at Gwaine. There was not a single trace of reproach in his eyes. Not a hint of distrust in his smile. Gwaine didn’t deserve to be treated so gently.

“I can trust you for a very simple reason,” Merlin began, voice firm and serious in a way that compelled Gwaine to listen attentively. “When you thought I was uncomfortable, you stopped immediately and apologised. That tells me everything I need to know.”

“You’ve set the bar very low,” Gwaine grumbled, still unconvinced.

Merlin shook his head fondly and flicked at Gwaine’s forehead. “Stop thinking so much. You’re my friend, you’ve proven countless times that you respect me. I won’t hold you to an impossible standard just to appease your conscience. You slipped up, realised it and reacted adequately; that’s enough for me to know I that I can trust you. Now sit back, relax, and let me help you.”

As tempting as the command was, Gwaine didn’t immediately comply. He stared at Merlin, searching for any sign of hesitation or reluctance on his face. But despite his efforts, Gwaine found nothing. Only deep affection that Merlin offered so easily, as if it weren’t a precious gift that Gwaine was wholly underserving of.

His infinite patience finally running out, Merlin pinched one of Gwaine’s nipples and twisted it just enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain down Gwaine’s spine and straight to his neglected cock. Merlin raised an eyebrow at Gwaine, silently telling him to just make up his mind already. Gwaine was a weak man. The promise of Merlin’s skilful touch swept away the moral quandaries holding him back.

One of Merlin’s hands rested on Gwaine’s lower belly. His clever fingers traced the faint trail of hairs leading down to Gwaine's crotch and played with the coarse brown hairs at the base of his cock. His other hand kept bullying Gwaine’s nipples, which were already hard and red and on the verge of painful. Meanwhile, Gwaine’s cock remained neglected, leaking precum continuously.

“Merlin, please,” Gwaine moaned, arching his back and pushing against Merlin’s hands.

Instead of giving Gwaine what he so desperately needed, Merlin paused contemplatively, staring at Gwaine’s red, sweat-damp face.

“You know, it’s a shame you can’t see yourself,” Merlin said with a grin.

A golden shine replaced the deep blue of Merlin’s eyes. Gwaine sucked a breath; Merlin’s magic was so hot. He stared at Merlin, enthralled by the casual use of magic. He barely noticed the way the air in front of them shimmered and rippled like the placid surface of a lake in a summer morning. At first, Gwaine didn’t understand what Merlin had done. But then, Merlin grabbed Gwaine’s chin and forced him to look forward.

The air at the foot of the bed seemed to have solidified into a pristine mirror. Gwaine moaned a drawn out “fuuuuck,” as he caught his own reflection. Merlin had barely touched him yet, but Gwaine already looked utterly debauched. Sweat coated his reddened skin from his cheeks down to his chest. His nipples had turned an aggressive red colour, standing at attention under Merlin’s mean touch. His pubic hairs were matted with precum, some of which had already dried. His whole cock, red and rock-hard, glistened with the evidence of his lust. Even his heavy balls were coated with the sticky fluid. With his legs spread out, Gwaine had a perfect view of himself, offered on display for Merlin to toy with as he pleased. By comparison, Merlin looked infuriatingly composed. Still fully dressed, only a faint blush on his cheeks and slightly dilated pupils. Gwaine could feel his friend’s half-hard cock against his naked back. It made something like pride soar in his chest at the proof that Merlin wasn’t completely indifferent to the wanton spectacle Gwaine made. He still didn’t show any sign of wanting to be touched, though.

“Look how hot you are,” Merlin whispered in a voice that sent a shiver of want down Gwaine’s spine. “You’re so hungry for my touch, aren’t you? I’ve barely touched you at all and you already look like a fucked-out slut.”

Damn, Merlin had a very dirty mouth for a man who didn’t experience sexual attraction. Gwaine meant to voice his thought, but all that came out was a choked keen as Merlin chose that exact moment to cup Gwaine’s balls and squeeze them with just the right amount of strength.

“Tell me what you need, Gwaine,” Merlin demanded, squeezing Gwaine’s balls again, just tight enough for Gwaine to feel the threat of pain.

“Need you to touch my cock, Merls, please,” Gwaine begged in a broken voice.

Merlin hummed, and for a second, Gwaine feared he might need to beg some more to earn Merlin’s touch. But Merlin seemed to take mercy on him at last. The light stroke of Merlin’s finger up his shaft sent sparks through Gwaine’s nerves. He could feel it down to his curling toes.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror,” Merlin instructed, one of his hand resting on Gwaine’s throat.

A high-pitched keen crawled out of Gwaine’s dry mouth as he obeyed. There was nothing to obscure the obscene sight of Merlin’s lean fingers wrapped around Gwaine’s shaft. They were getting slick with precum already. The rhythm Merlin set was criminally slow. Just a tease. A cruel torture that Gwaine had no desire to escape from. Merlin’s thumb swiped across the head of Gwaine’s cock, making it throb at the stimulation.

It didn’t take long before Gwaine was rolling his hips unconsciously, silently begging for more, for mercy, for release. But Merlin ignored it. In fact, he even stopped altogether. Gwaine choked on a sob, wantonly thrusting his hips into the warmth of Merlin’s immobile hand.

“That’s it, take what you need,” Merlin encouraged hoarsely.

“Fuck, Merls.” That was all Gwaine was able to say as what remained of his composure promptly vanished.

The mattress was creaking under Gwaine’s graceless flailing. It was frustratingly difficult to move as he wanted to with the position he was in. The wide spread of his legs offered him no leverage to thrust his hips. His abs burned at the strain as they tensed each time he tried to push himself into Merlin’s warm palm. Meanwhile, Merlin’s other hand kept him firmly trapped against its owner’s solid chest. Gwaine was sure he must look ridiculous. He couldn’t get himself to care either way. All he could focus on was the intoxicating sight of his cock disappearing into the clutch of Merlin’s pale, glistening fingers.

“Come on Gwaine, I wanna see you come fucking my hand,” Merlin said against Gwaine’s ear. He sounded like a mischievous devil eager on leading a sinner deeper into perdition. And Gwaine wasn’t resisting at all.

Pushing past the painful cramping of his muscles, Gwaine kept seeking his sweet release. But each time it seemed within reach, it slipped away. Distantly, Gwaine noticed that his reflection in the mirror was getting blurry. He blinked, feeling tears leaking down his flushed face.

“I can’t, Merlin. Please,” Gwaine cried, sounding pathetic even to his own ears.

“What, you need me to stroke your weeping little cock?” Merlin asked, giving the throbbing shaft a mean squeeze. “Need me to wank the cum out of you?”

Gwaine moaned at the dirty words Merlin poured directly into his ear. He was shaking. Whole-body tremors that wracked him from head to toe. He weakly thrust his cock into the heat of Merlin’s hand.

“You’re just a useless little slut, aren’t you? Can’t even take what you need; it has to be handed to you. Look at you; you’re shaking and drooling and you can’t even fuck my hand properly.”

Gwaine threw his head back, arching into Merlin’s hold. His climax was so close. Gwaine could almost taste it. But it remained just out of reach. Merlin’s deceptively strong fingers forced Gwaine’s head upright, making him face the mirror again.

“Keep talking, Merls. Fuck, please, keep talking,” Gwaine pleaded, rolling his hips uncoordinatedly to seek some friction on his aching cock.

Merlin hummed, finally starting to stroke Gwaine’s cock tight and fast, just like he desperately needed. “You like hearing about how much of a pathetic whore you are?”

“Yesss!” Gwaine hissed struggling to keep his eyes on his own debauched reflexion in the magical mirror.”

“You like being fucked stupid? Being reduced to a mindless, cock-hungry bitch?” Merlin growled heatedly.

The orgasm Gwaine had been frantically seeking finally crashed into him. Gwaine thrashed helplessly in Merlin’s firm hold. He was quite sure he’d never come so hard in his entire life. His vision blanked. He felt like he was floating in an ocean of pleasure. And yet, when awareness clawed its way back to his mind, Gwaine felt himself still unsated.

“Fuck Merls, I still need more,” he croaked, frustrated and dismayed and still painfully horny. His whole body ached as his muscles relaxed after his mind-blowing orgasm. But his cock, red and coated with cum, was still hard and throbbing.

Merlin shuddered behind him, quietly horrified at the realisation that this wasn’t over. Gwaine’s sluggish mind tried to prepare for rejection. For Merlin telling him that he’d had enough and Gwaine had to deal with this on his own.

Instead, Merlin released his grip on Gwaine’s throat and pressed a gentle kiss on his damp cheek. He spread his legs more and bended his knees, forcing Gwaine to almost bend in half on Merlin’s lap. In this new position, Gwaine’s furled rim was on full display. Gwaine’s precum and release had dripped down his heavy balls and between his cheeks, coating his entrance in a light sheen of slick.

Merlin still whispered something in the language of magic, eyes glowing gold as he started at Gwaine through the mirror. And then, his long, thin fingers circled the puckered skin of Gwaine’s rim. Not yet pushing in, as if waiting for Gwaine’s permission.

“Yes, please. Fuck me, Merls,” Gwaine said in a broken, hoarse voice.

The stretch of a single thin finger burned as it pushed inside. It had been way too long since Gwaine had been penetrated. It was a shame Merlin didn’t want to be touched today, because Gwaine would give all his worldly possessions to have Merlin’s cock sheathed deep inside him.

As if reading Gwaine’s thoughts, Merlin said, “If you’re a good boy for me, I’ll fuck your tight little hole the next time we have sex.”

Gwaine’s rim fluttered at the promise. Nothing had ever sounded more tantalising than the prospect of Merlin’s cock fucking him hard and fast and so deep. Gwaine pushed himself into the single finger buried in him. Merlin took this as a signal that his friend was ready for another finger. Gwaine hissed and tensed at the intrusion. Merlin soothingly fondled Gwaine’s chest, whispering gentle encouragements in his ear.

A third finger followed soon enough. Gwained felt speared open. Merlin’s knees kept his thighs spread, unable to escape the steady thrusts of Merlin’s fingers. The pain was quickly receding, but pleasure was slow to build in its place. Gwaine tried squirming, but this didn’t do much.

Then, Merlin’s fingers crooked just right, grazing that spot inside Gwaine that made him see stars. They readjusted slightly and pushed firmly against Gwaine’s prostate. Gwaine’s body seized as pleasure flooded him suddenly.

“There! Do that again please!” Gwaine said between panting breaths.

Merlin magnanimously complied. His fingers rubbed Gwaine’s prostate like he would rub a woman’s clit. It was too much. Too intense. Gwaine couldn’t think; his mind just went blank as he was helpless to do anything but take anything Merlin forced on him. He was shaking, thighs struggling to close but firmly held open by Merlin’s knees. His whole body was rippling. Gwaine’s throat was sore from moaning and sobbing and babbling half-formed pleas.

Distantly, Gwaine wondered if Merlin would touch his cock at all. Or allow Gwaine to touch himself. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to cum just from Merlin’s fingers. But when he tried to take hold of his weeping cock, Merlin batted his hand away.

“You’ve proven that you can’t take what you need when told to, so now you’ll be taking what I give you. Nothing more and nothing less,” Merlin said firmly, in that voice so imbued with dominance and natural authority that Gwaine found himself unable to disobey that order.

Gwaine stopped struggling. His body went lax in Merlin’s lap. Breathy moans continuously leaked out of his parted lips. His body shuddered and shook with each new spike of pleasure.

“That’s it. Just lay back and let me take care of you,” Merlin praised, sending a new bead of precum down Gwaine’s hard shaft.

For a while, Merlin went back to fucking Gwaine with his lithe fingers. He occasionally hit Gwaine’s prostate but avoided it most of the time. And then, when Gwaine was starting to get frustrated, he pressed against it again. This time, Merlin was rubbing Gwaine’s prostate even more firmly. Gwaine’s balls tightened. His cock throbbed. He was so close. A high-pitched whine echoed at the base of his throat as pleasure bordered pain.

Merlin didn’t relent. He fucked Gwaine hard and fast, hitting his prostate on every thrust. And then, he pressed against it again. Almost painfully hard.

Gwaine shook so hard he almost fell out of Merlin’s lap. He was convulsing with the force of his orgasm. Thick ropes of cum painted his chest. Gwaine even forgot how to breathe for a moment.

When he was finally done, he slumped against Merlin’s chest. Stray shudders coursed through his limbs in the aftermath. Gwaine had never felt so profoundly relaxed. A bone-deep serenity that only a mind-shattering orgasm could bring. No thoughts could settle in Gwaine’s mind. They slipped away as soon as they entered his consciousness. He felt hollow in the best sense.

When he became aware of his surroundings again, Gwaine was lying on his side, with Merlin’s arms wrapped securely around his ribs. The absence of uncomfortable stickiness on his skin informed him that Merlin had carefully cleaned him up while Gwaine had been out of commission. And most importantly, Gwaine felt the delicious buzz of contentment and no lingering cravings for sex.

Chapter Text

The afternoon didn’t quite go as Merlin had anticipated. For one, he didn’t think he’d need to spend this much time helping Gwaine with his little problem. He didn’t mind, even if it had slightly derailed his plans. It had been fun. Merlin definitely would use that mirror spell again in the future. Now that Gwaine was sated, sore, and sleeping off the down that came from two intense orgasms and the aphrodisiac finally leaving his system, Merlin was free to go on with his day. He’d need to investigate what Gwaine had consumed or what spell he’d fallen victim to. But that wasn’t urgent. For now, Merlin needed to hurry up and go back to work.

Before that, however, he needed to go back to his room and freshen up quickly. He was sure he reeked of sex. And although Merlin hadn’t actively been on the receiving end of any sexual contact, the sight and sounds of a debauched Gwaine had caught his cock’s interest. And the constant rubbing of Gwaine’s arse on his cock had been enough to create a substantial wet patch on the front of his trousers. Thankfully, the stain wasn’t too visible. But Merlin couldn’t decently go back to serving Arthur in this state.

By the time Merlin barged into Arthur’s chambers, late wasn’t a strong enough word to describe his delay.

“You were supposed to be here two hours ago, Merlin,” Arthur said as a greeting.

Merlin smiled sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck in embarrassment. He deliberated lying to Arthur about the reason for his delay, but quickly abandoned the idea. Arthur would see right through it, and he’d probably be angrier about Merlin lying and hiding things from him. He didn’t need to tell the whole story immediately, though.

“Gwaine needed my help and it took longer than expected,” Merlin explained simply, hoping that Arthur wouldn’t push for more details.

As often, however, his prayers remained unanswered, since this answer didn’t seem to satisfy Arthur. The young king raised a sceptical eyebrow, staring at Merlin so intently that the young warlock felt the urge to squirm where he stood.

“And what did Gwaine need help with that was more important than your job?” Arthur asked with that haughty undertone in his voice that still infuriated Merlin.

“He’s been afflicted by a very strong aphrodisiac,” Merlin replied, cheeks burning red.

Arthur sputtered, choking on his own spit. “And aphrodisiac? You’ve neglected your duties to go fuck Gwaine to help him overcome the effects of an aphrodisiac?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t necessarily put it like that but… in essence, yes?” Merlin replied cautiously. He wanted to argue that it had been a medical emergency, and depending on what had caused Gwaine’s symptoms, it could have been. But the treatment had been nothing even remotely approaching standard medical practice.

“I think you’re a lost cause, Merlin,” Arthur lamented, rubbing his forehead as if Merlin’s very existence brought him a headache.

“It’s part of my charm,” Merlin said cheekily.

Truth be told, he felt slightly bad for shirking his duties. He hadn’t intended to spend so much time with Gwaine. But Merlin couldn’t say he regretted it. However, he was glad he got to spend some time with Arthur now. He hoped the king knew that.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but there was a soft smile tugging at his lips that he didn’t even try to conceal. “I suppose it is, as annoying as it may be.”

Just like that, Merlin knew he was forgiven. He returned Arthur’s smile, bright and happy. Looking more closely at the blonde, Merlin clearly saw the way his shoulders had loosened since Merlin came back. He looked tired but less wired, as if some of his stress had evaporated upon Merlin’s return. It made fondness swell warmly in Merlin’s chest.

“Well, no matter how much I love you, you’ll have to make up for your inacceptable lack of professionalism,” Arthur said with a humorous glint in his pale blue eyes.

“I’m very professional!” Merlin squawked, bringing a hand to his chest in mock offense.

Arthur hummed, looking at Merlin with a deadpan expression. Perhaps Arthur hadn’t entirely forgiven Merlin yet, after all. Although there was something playful about the way he rested his chin on his fist, looking at Merlin as if he was pondering the best punishment for his blatant disregard for his job. There was not a single hint of anger on Arthur’s face, only a carefully disguised softness that just waited to be unveiled.

“Come take a seat and help me with those reports, then. Show me how professional you are,” Arthur said, failing to hold back a chuckle when Merlin groaned dramatically.

“I’m just a country bumpkin, barely literate. How am I supposed to help the great king of Camelot with all those very complicated and very important reports about matter of governance that my uneducated mind can’t ever hope to comprehend?” Merlin griped dramatically. But even as he voiced his exaggerated objections, he dragged a chair to sit at Arthur’s left.

A hefty stack of documents was dumped in front of him, hitting the desk with a dull thump. “Oh yes, such an ignorant peasant you are. The Court Physician’s apprentice, barely able to read and write his own name,” Arthur replied in false commiseration.

Merlin grumbled about tyranny and slave drivers, even while he started skimming over the scrawled handwriting darkening pages over pages of paper about military spendings. Arthur bumped his shoulder against Merlin’s both as a threat for him to shut up and as a show of gratitude for the help.

While being covered in silk and gold and being fed the finest foods this earth had to offer seemed very tempting, Merlin definitely never wanted to be a king. The paperwork alone made him want to tear his hair out. And he certainly didn’t envy Arthur for the countless hours he spent in meeting with dusty old men too stuck in their ways to accept the most infinitesimal change. Even so, Merlin had to admit that while he got immersed in the task, it was an almost pleasant way to spend some time with his friend. There was some satisfaction in seeing the tall pile of reports to be reviewed slowly shrink in front of him.

He was so engrossed in a report on trade between Camelot and Mercia that he startled when Arthur’s palm hesitantly landed on the back of his hand. Merlin looked up at Arthur questioningly. He noticed that the room was growing darker and offhandedly muttered a spell to light some candles. Arthur’s hand still hadn’t retracted. His thumb stroked Merlin’s hand gently, carefully.

“Is this alright?” Arthur croaked.

There was something so vulnerable in the openness of Arthur’s expression that it made Merlin’s heart ache. Arthur looked like he couldn’t quite believe that this could be allowed. Perhaps even welcome. As if he was bracing for rejection while clinging to a fragile hope of acceptance.

Merlin turned his hand so that he could hold Arthur’s. His gaze locked with Arthur’s as he slowly brought their joined hands to his lips and pressed a light kiss on Arthur’s scarred knuckles.

“Of course, this is alright,” Merlin said quietly, smiling.

The smile Arthur gave him in return could only be described as mushy and lovesick. Merlin had never seen Arthur look so relaxed and content while doing paperwork. Although holding hands wasn’t recommended for working efficiently, it seemed to be an excellent motivator for Arthur to do it at all and without any complaints.

The evening went by quickly. Soon, the castle grew quiet as its occupants retreated to their private quarters for a night of rest. It was Merlin’s favourite part of the day. He loved helping Arthur get ready in the morning; watching him all soft from lingering sleepiness clinging to him was one of Merlin’s greatest honours. But mornings were busy and hurried. They both had duties awaiting them that they needed to rush to. Nights were slower. That was when they really got to talk, share titbits about their days and have deep conversations. The flickering light of candles offered a kind of intimate atmosphere that bright sunlight couldn’t imitate.

That night was no different. Except it was. There was a soft weight resting on the room. Like a breath held, waiting to be released. It wasn’t oppressive or heavy. Just there, like a word waiting to be pronounced. Merlin didn’t press. If Arthur wanted to give voice to the unasked question hovering between them, he would. Otherwise, things would go as usual, and they’d both be content.

“Stay,” Arthur said as he sat on the edge of his bed, ready to tuck himself in.

Merlin stilled. He couldn’t say he hadn’t expected that question, not really. But he didn’t know the answer he wanted to give. Cuddling with Arthur until they fell asleep was very tempting. But it was also very much out of his comfort zone.

“I don’t have clothes to sleep in,” Merlin replied dumbly as a way to gain some time to take his decision.

“I know you usually sleep in just your underwear,” Arthur replied with a roll of his eyes. The reminder that Arthur had, indeed, already seen how Merlin slept in his bed (because Merlin had been outrageously late and Arthur decided to storm into his tiny room and wake him up), brought a deep flush to Merlin’s cheek. “You can just take something from my closet if you’d prefer,” Arthur added as an afterthought.

“I- People will talk if I’m not seen leaving your chambers,” Merlin said. He didn’t really know why he was fishing for excuses to leave. If he didn’t want to stay, he just needed to say the word and Arthur wouldn’t hold him.

As if reading his thoughts, Arthur said, “People don’t need a reason to gossip. But if you don’t want to spend the night here, you don’t have to.”

And while he said it nonchalantly, Merlin knew Arthur well enough to notice the disappointed slump of his shoulders. Arthur hid it well, though. Probably because he didn’t want Merlin to feel pressured into accepting just to please him. Perhaps that was what finally brought Merlin’s mind to settle. Arthur was always considerate, in his own way. Sometimes he had an odd way of showing it, courtesy of being raised to become a pompous prat. But he always wanted to make others feel safe and happy. To make Merlin feel safe and happy. And Merlin, he didn’t want to return the favour, not really, but it made him feel like it would be alright to stay. Like he was allowed to say yes, just like he was allowed to say no.

“You wouldn’t mind if I borrowed a shirt for the night?” Merlin eventually asked.

“It’ll be yours for when you spend the night,” Arthur replied with a brilliant grin.

Those bright, joyful smiles graced Arthur’s face too rarely. Arthur smiled a lot, but they were smug smirks when he won a fight or an argument, or polite smiles he offered to visiting rulers, nobles or diplomats, or subdued but genuine smiles of quiet happiness. He rarely smiled boldly, loudly. As if he needed to keep his joy restrained. And knowing Uther’s stance on display of emotions, he probably thought so.

Arthur didn’t look away as Merlin changed. He didn’t stare either. He just looked at Merlin as if it was perfectly normal for his friend and manservant to get into sleep clothes in front of him. Arthur talked idly about some things he needed to do the next day. His gaze on Merlin’s body wasn’t lecherous. There was no desire burning behind his eyes. Merlin was grateful for it. He wasn’t sure he’d be comfortable spending the night in Arthur’s bed otherwise. Of course, Arthur had mentioned he wasn’t interested in pleasures of the flesh, but the confirmation still reassured Merlin.

It was different with Gwaine. Merlin didn’t mind when the knight devoured him with eyes darkened by lust. But their relationship had been negotiated at length and very firm boundaries had been set. They both agreed that they were first and foremost friends. That Gwaine was sexually attracted to Merlin was inconsequential. Gwaine never made his attraction known outside of their mutually agreed rendezvous, although Merlin knew his friend’s thoughts weren’t always entirely innocent outside of those occurrences.

With Arthur, things were still too unclear, undefined. They hadn’t properly set the perimeter of their relationship. And Merlin didn’t mind it, but he didn’t think he’d be comfortable if confronted with Arthur’s lust mixed in with his infatuation. He was already trying to learn his way around the love that constantly shone in Arthur’s eyes.

Merlin settled under the cover, stiff and awkward. Arthur lied beside him, just as awkwardly. Until the king surprised Merlin by flinging himself at him and slinging an arm over Merlin’s stomach. Merlin tensed briefly at the sudden contact. But when he heard Arthur’s contented sigh as the young king rested his head on his friend’s chest, Merlin couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. He carded his fingers through Arthur’s hair, slowly relaxing into the embrace. He hadn’t expected Arthur to initiate physical intimacy, but he was grateful for it.

“That’s nice,” Arthur hummed.

“Yeah, I could get used to sleeping in a soft bed like that,” Merlin replied, biting his lip to restrain a chuckle.

Arthur let out an indignant, “Hey!” lifting himself on his elbows to look down at Merlin. “Here I thought you enjoyed cuddling with me, but no, you’re just taking advantage of me to get access to my high-quality bed,” Arthur grumbled, a pout pursing his lips.

Merlin couldn’t hold back his giggles much longer. He almost missed the soft, pleased smile that replaced the pout on Arthur’s face. “You’re a menace,” Arthur decided before he petulantly lowered himself into Merlin’s arm and nuzzled into Merlin’s chest.

“I’m an evil warlock scheming to take over your bed,” Merlin replied with leftover laughter in his voice.

“You can have my bed all you want if you just cuddle me,” Arthur replied, pressing himself more firmly against Merlin’s side.

“Anything for my favourite clotpole.” Merlin expected some sort of retaliation, but the light pinch to his side still made him yelp. It tickled more than it stung, though.

“Just shut up and hold me,” Arthur demanded.

And who was Merlin to reject such an adorable order?

It was a busy day at the market. The sounds of the city bordered on overwhelming. But Merlin breathed in deep and let the lively atmosphere swallow him. He smiled at Gwaine. They were wandering around, admiring the colourful wares the merchants displayed on their stalls. Neither of them was looking to buy anything particular, but it was nice to look around. The aphrodisiac Gwaine had unwittingly consumed didn’t seem to have caused any lasting damage. Merlin was pretty sure Gwaine’s issues had been caused by spiked wine, courtesy of a jealous husband whose wife Gwaine had flirted with. The knight had seemed appropriately sheepish as he admitted it, so Merlin had restrained himself to some serious scolding. There were enough single women for his friend not to mess with married ones.

Though it seemed Gwaine was repeat offender when it came to this kind of things. And unfortunately for Merlin, he seemed to always get caught in the crossfire.

“You rascal!” A tall, burly man yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Gwaine.

The knight looked taken aback for all of a second before a grin tugged at his lips. “Me? What have I done to offend you?”

Merlin really didn’t like the direction this situation was taking. The stranger was fuming and Gwaine was not at all inclined to deescalate the brewing conflict. If anything, he seemed rather intent on riling the man up.

“What did you do this time, Gwaine?” Merlin groaned.

“Hey, I didn’t even do anything this time!” Gwaine replied defensively.

If Merlin hadn’t known Gwaine so well, he might have believed him. As it was, he only sent his friend a dubious look. Suddenly, two other tall, burly men appeared behind the first one, and they looked equally irate. As much as Merlin wanted to berate Gwaine for always landing them in trouble, now wasn’t the time.

“Run! You’ll explain what this is all about later!” Merlin yelled, grabbing Gwaine’s hand and pulling him along through narrow streets and dark alleys.

Even as Gwaine followed Merlin, he started complaining. “Merls, we can take them on!”

“No, we can’t! I’m not taking the risk of exposing my magic to save you from another jealous husband!”

Merlin hadn’t really kept tracks of where he was leading Gwaine. Obviously, his legendary luck had to strike again. It was a dead-end street. The high wall of a lopsided house blocked their path. And Merlin already heard the thundering steps of their pursuers.

“There!” Gwaine said, pointing at a cart positioned right under a low window.

The knight didn’t wait before jumping on the crates stacked in the cart and propelling himself through the open window. Merlin chanced a glance at the mouth of the narrow street. The three men were right on their heels. Just a few seconds, and they’d turn the corner and see them. Merlin jumped but missed the windowsill. It was only thanks to Gwaine’s quick reflexes that he was pulled through the window just in time.

They crouched by the window, careful of remaining unseen as the men inspected the alley.

“I’m sure I saw them turning here,” one of them mumbled.

“Well, you’ve seen wrong. There’s no one here. Let’s go,” the leader of the small group said, turning back.

“Wait, I saw something move there!” the third one said, pointing at the window Merlin and Gwaine had escaped through.

“Shit,” Gwaine whispered. “Time to run!”

Merlin stumbled behind Gwaine, using his magic to shut the window before the men could follow them. It wouldn’t stop them, probably, but it would hopefully slow them down a bit.

“What are you doing here?” an old woman screeched, half-hidden behind a door.

“Just passing through, sorry for the inconvenience,” Gwaine replied with a charming smile and a polite bow.

“The door’s open. Just leave,” the woman answered, obviously spooked at seeing two young men running through her humble home.

“Please forgive us, ma’am,” Merlin apologised again.

“If anything gets broken, send the bill to King Arthur!” Gwaine added as the sound of shattered glass rang through the small apartment. “Got to go!”

Instead of going down to find the main entrance of the building like a sensible person, Gwaine dragged Merlin up creaky, uneven stairs. Merlin didn’t even have the breath to object. He didn’t have the same insane stamina as a knight. Meanwhile, Gwaine still seemed fresh and ready to go for hours. Perhaps Merlin should stop evading Arthur’s generous offer to train him in more traditional combat and endurance skills.

At least, the men chasing them seemed to get tired as well, judging from their slower, heavier steps up the stairs. Gwaine shouldered a rickety door at the top of the stairwell. It slammed open with a creaky whine and a metallic clang. At least it hadn’t been torn off its hinges. The bright daylight momentarily blinded Merlin after the relative darkness the building had been bathed in. Gwaine recovered first, pulling Merlin on a terraced roof. They were once again trapped. And while their pursuers weren’t as fast, they’d end up catching up if Merlin and Gwaine didn’t find a way out.

“Think you can jump that far?” Gwaine asked, pointing to another terrace on a slightly shorter building.

It was a substantial distance away, but that seemed to be their only way to escape. Huffing pants and frustrated groans filtered through the open door. Their pursuers were getting close already.

Merlin shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

Gwaine ran to the edge of the terrace and leaped, landing on the terrace below with grace. Merlin gulped. He didn’t own thick muscles like Gwaine to propel him so easily across the wide gap. Sure, if he fell, he could probably soften the crash with the pavement, but that was still scary.

However, there was no more time to stall. Merlin ran as fast as he could and pushed on his burning thighs to jump. He landed on the edge of the terrace, fingers scrambling madly for purchase on the rough stone of the ledge. Gwaine once again pulled him safely on the flat floor.

“This was supposed to be a relaxing afternoon out, Gwaine!” Merlin groused between heaving breaths.

“I know, I’m sorry!” Gwaine replied, throwing his hands up. “Let’s get out of here and I’ll buy you a drink to make up for it.”

At least, the hefty jump seemed to have discouraged the three panting, red-faced, scowling men. Merlin wasn’t sure how long he would have been able to keep running.

“Add some food into the mix and I’ll agree to forgive you,” Merlin replied, dusting his clothes off.

“You drive a hard bargain. Okay, let’s get food and drinks,” Gwaine consented. Merlin was satisfied to see he was slightly winded too.

They entered the first tavern they came across. Fortunately, the decrepit façade concealed a rather homey interior. Rich aromas of honey and nuts blended with the smell cooked meat. The patrons talked loudly but their voices were jovial and interrupted by frequent peals of laughter. Merlin’s tense shoulders immediately drooped.

The little table at the back of the room they sat at offered some privacy. The din of laughter and loud conversations was muffled in this quiet corner. The sole bartender quickly brought them the pitcher of cider and the plate of cold cuts Gwaine had ordered. After the hectic start of their afternoon in town, Merlin was ready to fully enjoy a quiet meal.

“So, what was that about?” Merlin questioned between two bites of ham.

“I may have flirted with that guy’s wife. But nothing happened! I just behaved as my usual charming self,” Gwaine explained with an annoyed pout.

“Why do you always go after married women?” Merlin asked, not bothering to hide the reproach in his tone.

Gwaine stared at Merlin like he was a bit dim. “Do you know many unmarried women who’d be interested in a meaningless fling?”

Perhaps Gwaine did have a point. Merlin hadn’t thought of that. No respectable woman would take that risk.

“Why not go after men, then?” he asked, now more curious than scolding.

Gwaine shrugged, looking away. “Many guys get a bit defensive when another man flirts at them. If I have to get punched in the face, I’d rather it be after I’ve had a good time.”

While Gwaine explained it nonchalantly, Merlin saw the hurt in his eyes. Rejection was one thing, but getting hit and insulted was another entirely. Gwaine was comfortable with his sexuality, but those reactions still had to hurt.

“Why not come to me more often?” Merlin suggested.

Another shrug. “I don’t want to burden you,” Gwaine admitted, rolling and unrolling a poor slice of ham.

“Just ask. And if I’m not up to it, I’ll tell you,” Merlin replied. “We can be creative about it too, if needed.”

That seemed to finally bring a smile on Gwaine’s face. Merlin could see why women were so willing to have trysts with the knight. He was quite charming.

“I’ll try to remember that. Thanks, Merls.”

After that, their conversation drifted to lighter topics. By the time Merlin needed to get back to work, he felt lighter and happier than before. Something that Arthur commented on with a peck on Merlin’s cheek.

Chapter Text

Everything had been going just a little too well. That should have been a clue that something very wrong was about to happen. After all, Destiny hated Merlin. He had no idea what he had done to deserve the Fates’ ire. But he knew an easy, quiet life wasn’t in the plans for him.

Guards reported shadowy intruders. But they seemed impossible to catch. They were as evasive as ghosts. At first, Arthur had dismissed those sightings, claiming the guards were simply on edge. But it happened several nights, and always with different guards. The intruders didn’t do anything. But that didn’t appease Merlin’s concerns. If enemies were smart enough to send scouts, and good ones at that, that did not bode well. And they still had no clue on who the spies were working for or what they were looking for.

After a week, even Arthur was on edge. Patrols around the castle were doubled. Guards were to always move in pairs. And two knights were placed on guard duty in front of Arthur’s door. Arthur had claimed the latter measure was totally unnecessary, but Merlin had insisted. Regular guards were too easily subdued by skilled attackers. Merlin also took up permanent residence in Arthur’s room until the crisis was solved. If someone tried to attack Arthur, he would be the last, and arguable most efficient, line of defence.

“You look even more tense than usual,” Gwaine remarked as he walked through the corridors with Merlin.

“I have a bad feeling. Something is going to happen tonight, I can feel it,” Merlin replied, rolling the worn fabric of his neckerchief between his thumb and forefinger.

“Want to unwind before going to bed with our Princess?” Gwaine offered.

It was tempting. Very tempting. But it wasn’t a good idea. “I’d rather remain alert tonight. I can’t take the risk of sleeping too deeply or being groggy if something happens. However, once this is all over, I will very much appreciate your help.”

“Alright, I’ll look forward to it,” Gwaine replied easily, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

“If you want some assistance, I’m up to it, though,” Merlin added.

While he was too keyed up to enjoy sex, he wasn’t opposed to help Gwaine blow some steam. Since he found out that Gwaine had trouble finding partners who weren’t married women, which in turn led him to realise that their current arrangement wasn’t sufficient to sate Gwaine’s needs, the two men had started reworking their arrangement. Nothing dramatic. The core of it remained the same. But Merlin now made a point of offering his help more frequently, so that Gwaine understood he wasn’t a burden.

“The want is very much present. But I think you’re right; we need to remain sharp,” Gwaine said, clearly loathing the evasive shadows that kept the castle on high alert. “I can’t wait to put all this behind us.”

Merlin couldn’t agree more. His magic had been restless for days and it was becoming very tiring to keep it under control. At least, if someone attacked tonight, it would be ready to lash out.

“Well, good night. Try to get some sleep,” Gwaine said once they reached their destination.

Elyan was already posted on one side of Arthur’s door, looking deceptively relaxed. Merlin knew it was only a façade. Elyan’s hand rested on the pommel of his sword in what looked like a laidback pose but would actually allow him to unsheathe his blade at a moment’s notice.

“Good luck for your shift,” Merlin said as Gwaine settled on the opposite side of the door.

“Thanks, Merls.”

“Let’s hope for an uneventful night,” Elyan added.

The door closed softly behind Merlin, leaving him in the tense silence of Arthur’s chambers. It was as if the whole castle could feel that the waiting game ended tonight. Merlin’s magic was growing increasingly restless under his skin as the night darkened.

Arthur was sitting on the edge of his bed with his elbows resting on his knees. He stared at the smooth floor between his feet. It was jarring to see him like this. Arthur was usually always ready for battle. Even when he was terrified, he didn’t let it show. He claimed it was important for a leader to display confidence in the face of a threat to give his men courage. Except in this situation, Arthur didn’t feel in control. So, in the privacy of his room, he allowed the mask to fall, revealing the fear hidden underneath.

“It’ll be alright,” Merlin said, putting all the conviction he was capable of in his voice.

Arthur shot him a grateful smile in return, heaving a heavy sigh. “Let’s go to bed. We might as well try and get some sleep if we are to be attacked in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, you need your beauty sleep,” Merlin replied with a huff, earning a playful swat from Arthur.

Despite the tension buzzing in his limbs, Merlin fell easily into the well-oiled routine of helping Arthur get ready. He found comfort in the banality of this moment. He wasn’t required to think; every move was ingrained in his bones by now. Even if the world collapsed, Merlin thought he’d still find solace in this little bubble of normality where only he and Arthur existed. His mother had told him when he was young that during harsh times, people fell back on old customs and well-worn patterns to find some relief from the bitter reality. They offered some predictability. Merlin understood how appealing it was now. When everything felt uncertain, finding something to rely on was a necessity.

Even the novelty of slipping under the covers with Arthur provided welcome reassurance. If Arthur was lying right beside him, Merlin didn’t have to worry about arriving too late. He’d be here when Arthur needed him. He laid his head on Arthur’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of the king’s heartbeat. It slowed down as sleep claimed him. Merlin, on the other hand, was still too preoccupied to join Arthur in dreamland. He fell into a light doze, remaining at the frontier between slumber and wakefulness.

Screams, the sharp clang of steal meeting steal, loud thuds and crashes, thumping boots on stone. Arthur jolted awake with a breathy gasp as the clamour grew closer and louder. Right behind his door, familiar voices shouted angrily. Beside him, Merlin was already awake, eyes fixated on the door, body coiled to jump into action. The rumpled sleep shirt exposed his pale thighs to the silvery moonlight, revealing the strength of muscles he ordinarily kept hidden under unflattering clothes. Arthur could feel the power emanating from his usually unassuming manservant.

Grunts, yelps and pained groans echoed outside. A powerful blast burst the door off its hinges, revealing three hooded figures. Arthur grabbed his sword purely out of habit. It didn’t take a genius to understand that these invaders were sorcerers. And despite all his prowess, even the sharpest blades were useless against magic. Still, Arthur brandished his sword, ready to strike.

One of the attackers, the one who seemed to be the leader of the group, extended a hand towards the bed, a mean smirk splitting his obscured face. “The Lady Morgana sends her regards,” the man said almost mockingly. Arthur’s sluggish brain barely had time to make sense of the words before the man muttered something and a gold sheen swallowed his eyes.

Merlin was quick to react. “Beorg!” he shouted, his own eyes consumed by stunning gold. Whatever spell the would-be assassin cast crashed on the invisible shield Merlin had erected between them, making the air ripple.

But the attackers weren’t deterred, although Arthur caught the surprise in their widened eyes. Merlin’s magic was one of Camelot’s best-kept secrets, at Merlin’s own insistence. It certainly made things easier for Arthur while he was in the process of repealing his father’s anti-magic laws. If some people found out, Arthur knew they’d use that knowledge against Arthur’s crusade to dismantle Uther’s legacy. They could spin tales about Merlin manipulating the king for his own interests. And Arthur certainly didn’t need that kind of complications when the negotiations were already draining as it was. But Merlin also had other reasons to keep his gift secret. Like having the benefit of surprise.

The attackers quickly recovered from their shock, but not before Merlin confidently cast a spell that sent the leader flying backwards and colliding heavily with the wall behind him. The dull thud of the impact was oddly satisfying. However, instead of checking on their felled leader, the two remaining assassins focused on overwhelming Merlin’s magical shield. A barrage of spells made the translucent barrier shake and quiver, but it held fast. Arthur didn’t know how long that would remain true, though. Merlin gritted his teeth; his arms shook as he strove to maintain his shield in place. His heavy breaths and strained grunts told Arthur just how much effort that was requiring. And he knew Merlin was very powerful. Whoever his sister had hired for this job weren’t amateurs.

That sent a chill down Arthur’s spine. He felt like a massive block of ice settled in his stomach. Arthur had hoped to reconcile with Morgana once he’d be able to send the good news that magic would be allowed in Camelot again. He wasn’t sure that was still an option now. Perhaps he was a hopeless, naïve fool, but he still wanted to try. Despite the venom Morgana had spit at him. Despite the hatred and jealousy she had clearly expressed. Despite this direct attempt on his life. Arthur still wanted to hold on to the hope of getting his sister back.

Arthur shook his head, redirecting his focus on the fierce magical clash taking place in his chambers. Getting distracted like this was very unadvisable, even if he was currently useless. Now that he observed the battle more attentively, Arthur noticed that the heavy battering of spells against Merlin’s shield had slowed down. The attackers were getting tired. They needed slightly more time between each spell, prompting them to alternate their attacks. This, in turn, lessened the raw power they were able to exert. Merlin’s endurance was much higher. While sweat pasted his thick black hair to his forehead and stained his shirt, his barrier showed no sign of weakness. This was even more impressive since Arthur knew that Merlin was more proficient in offensive rather than defensive magic. However, it was clear that keeping this shield up prevented him from casting offensive spells. Unless he wanted to risk losing his focus and letting the shield shatter.

Therefore, Arthur had to actively repress the smile that wanted to bloom on his face when he saw Gwaine and Elyan slowly and quietly creeping up on the exhausted and distracted sorcerers. They coordinated their sneak attack efficiently, stabbing the men right through the chest at exactly the same time. But Arthur’s relief was short-lived as he glanced at the spot where the first man had been lying. Only a drying bloodstain remained where his body used to lie.

At first, Arthur thought the man had escaped, choosing to report his discovery of Merlin’s magic instead of accomplishing his mission. That would have been a sensible decision. But the faint creaking of leather attracted his attention to a dark corner of the room. The outline of a silhouette was barely visible in the darkness, still as a statue, before two golden orbs lit up. Arthur knew he wouldn’t be able to react in time to dodge the spell.

But Merlin was always astoundingly fast when it mattered. He pushed Arthur out of the way, the piercing spell stabbing his shoulder instead of Arthur’s heart. He didn’t even utter a pained moan before he cast a spell of his own. The strength of the blast made the hooded man fly and crash on the unforgiving floor. His body was bent in an unnatural way, leaving no place for doubt. He was dead. There was no way he survived that. As candlelight filled the room with a warm glow, Arthur saw the man’s neck was bent at an odd angle. A pool of blood spread around his disarticulated body. It was a gruesome sight. And yet, Arthur couldn’t help but feel a sense of glee at the wannabe assassins’ demise.

Gwaine would be lying if he said that watching Merlin kill the arsehole that tried to murder Arthur didn’t make desire spark in him. The raw power the warlock exhibited was insanely hot. Of course, he knew that Merlin was strong, but witnessing it never failed to take his breath away. And the righteous anger that burned in Merlin’s eyes was very sexy. It was such a sharp contrast with Merlin’s cheerful nature that it made Gwaine’s head spin.

“Let’s take you to Gaius so he can fix you,” Gwaine said, resting his hand on Merlin’s good shoulder.

At the contact, Merlin seemed to jolt out of the daze he’d been stuck in since firing that lethal spell. Gold receded from his eyes, leaving behind exhausted blue. Merlin slumped forward, forehead colliding with Gwaine’s armoured chest. Gwaine caught him easily and combed his fingers through Merlin’s sweaty, tangled hair.

“Gwaine’s right for once, you need medical attention,” Arthur said, crawling across the bed to help Merlin sit upright.

At any other time, Gwaine would have replied with a snarky comment. But he only needed to see the tightness around Arthur’s eyes and the slight tremors of his hands to know he’d better hold his tongue for once.

It took three tries before Merlin was able to stand up. Gwaine slung Merlin’s arm over his shoulder and kept a firm grip on his waist. Once he was sure that Merlin’s wobbly legs wouldn’t fail him, he slowly helped his friend walk to the physician’s quarters. When they reached the top of the stairwell, Gaius’ door was already open, and several candles had been lit. The old physician was carefully laying out the tools he’d need to tend to injured patients. He turned towards them when the floor creaked softly under their feet.

“Merlin, my boy, what happened?” he asked worriedly, lurching towards his wounded apprentice.

“It looks worse than it actually is,” Merlin quickly reassured his guardian. His smile was strained and there was a tightness in his voice that betrayed the pain and fatigue that clawed at him.

Gwaine couldn’t blame Gaius for being so worried, though, when Merlin’s white shirt was dyed red. The thin fabric clung to his frame because of the sweat and blood that drenched his body.

“Sir Gwaine, help him sit on the bench, please,” Gaius said with the kind of firm authority that only an experienced physician could exhibit.

Merlin barely winced as Gaius cleaned and stitched the wound. The reminder of Merlin’s high pain tolerance both worried and enticed Gwaine. He loved a strong and competent man, and Merlin was both. By the time he put a clean shirt on, the shakiness of Merlin’s legs had subsided and although he was still obviously tired, he didn’t need Gwaine’s support quite as much on the way back to Arthur’s chambers.

However, as they walked down a deserted corridor, Merlin suddenly pushed Gwaine into an alcove, pinning him to the rough stone wall.

“Merls, what?” Gwaine gasped, hands automatically coming to hold on to Merlin’s hips.

“Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you looked at me,” Merlin said with a devious smirk.

Gwaine’s sputter was cut off by a low moan when Merlin grinded against him, reigniting the arousal that had flagged while he was helping his injured and exhausted friend. His cock stirred as Merlin rolled his hips, pushing himself firmly against Gwaine.

“You’re hurt,” Gwaine said dumbly.

“I’ve had much worse,” Merlin replied dismissively. He stepped impossibly closer to Gwaine, bringing their bodies flush against each other. “Let me take care of you,” Merlin said against the shell of Gwaine’s ear.

A shuddering sigh left Gwaine’s lips when Merlin sank to his knees and roughly pushed Gwaine’s trousers down. Gwaine had never been happier that he’d only bothered putting on his chest plate, forgoing putting on the lower parts of his armour. He had to bite on the meat of his thumb to muffle his loud moan when Merlin swallowed him whole. The warlock devoured Gwaine like a starved man. He bobbed his head in a frantic rhythm, his tongue doing sinful things around Gwaine’s engorged shaft. It wasn’t long before lust completely blinded him. He firmly gripped a handful of Merlin’s hair to hold him in place as he fucked into Merlin’s willing mouth. The sounds of Merlin gagging and choking on every deep, hard thrusts only spurred him on. Gwaine was careening towards his orgasm, and he had no intention of making this last.

Apparently, Merlin didn’t either. His deft hands cupped Gwaine’s heavy balls, kneading them gently. The added stimulation had Gwaine panting and sobbing into his palm. But he completely lost it when one of Merlin’s fingers started massaging his perineum. Gwaine sheathed himself down Merlin’s throat, so deep that his friend’s nose was buried into his coarse pubic hairs. The token struggle Merlin put on only made him cum harder.

When he was done, Gwaine didn’t immediately pull away, choosing instead to enjoy the spasms of Merlin’s throat around his cock. It was only when Merlin started urgently pushing at his hips that Gwaine withdrew. And the sight that met him when he looked down at Merlin had his spent cock twitching.

Tears clung to his long, thick eyelashes and created salty lines down his reddened cheeks. His lips and chin were shiny with spit and precum. On a whim, Gwaine traced those swollen, parted lips with the tip of his cock, adding more to the wreck he had already made of his best friend’s face. Heavy, gasping breaths tickled his sensitive head, making him shudder deliciously. 

“Want me to return the favour?” Gwaine asked in a breathy murmur as he helped Merlin back to his feet.

The young man swayed slightly, lightheaded from the rough treatment but Gwaine easily steadied him, holding him close to his heaving chest.

“That would be much appreciated. I’d intended to just suck you off, but I’m a bit turned on now,” Merlin replied, swallowing thickly.

“What do you want?” Gwaine asked softly, drawing soothing patterns on the skin of Merlin’s hip.

“Just hold me close and stroke my cock?” Merlin asked, almost unconsciously humping Gwaine’s still naked thigh.

An idea popped into Gwaine’s mind. He spun Merlin around and wrapped an arm around Merlin’s waist, keeping Merlin’s back firmly pressed to his chest. He lowered Merlin’s underwear only enough to take his hard cock out and gripped it tightly, just like he knew Merlin liked. With quick, sharp flicks of his wrists, he jerked muffled moans out of Merlin. At some point, Merlin’s hand that wasn’t busy covering his mouth came up to hold on Gwaine’s neck, leaving Merlin entirely exposed. Merlin’s body undulated against Gwaine, hips rolling to meet each downward stroke of Gwaine’s fist. Far too soon for Gwaine’s taste, Merlin spilled into Gwaine’s palm. He knees buckled and his body bent in half. Supported only by Gwaine’s strong arm around his middle as he quaked and quivered with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Gwaine wished he could shove Merlin against the wall and take him right then and there. But Merlin was barely hanging on. He was exhausted and injured. He needed to lie down in a soft bed and be swamped in cuddles, not fucked hard against a wall.

Gwaine quickly rearranged their clothes to make them look somewhat decent and gathered the tired warlock into his arm bridal style. He remained deaf to Merlin’s half-hearted protests as he carried him to Arthur’s quarters.

The assassins’ corpses had been taken away already, bloodstains on the floor the only sign that they’d been there at all. Elyan took his leave upon their return, hopefully to join his bed for a well-deserved rest.

Gwaine gently deposited Merlin on the mattress. The warlock, already half-asleep, hummed and instinctively slithered closer to Arthur. A contented sigh left his lips when the king pulled him into his arms.

“You can stay if you want, Sir Gwaine,” Arthur offered, tucking Merlin’s head under his chin to look at his knight.

For a few seconds, Gwaine remained frozen in place. The implications of that proposition collided in his skull. He didn’t want to give the wrong impression if he agreed to stay. But he didn’t really want to leave either. But he didn’t know what was expected of him.

In the end, it was Merlin’s mumbled “please, stay,” that decided him. Gwaine quickly stripped down to his underwear and joined his cuddling friends under the fluffy blanket. He snuggled into Merlin’s back, smiling at the happy purr that rumbled into Merlin’s chest.