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It was late. The moon high in the sky, stars sparkling around it as clouds parted. Arthur crept down the halls with a hooded cloak pulled tight around him, the hood carefully hiding his face. It was only when he got to the door he wanted that he began to second guess himself. If he got caught, it would be hell to explain.
Then again, Arthur figured as his hand hovered in front of the door, Merlin was supposed to be out negotiating with druids with Mordred until the next afternoon… There was no way he would get caught.
Newfound confidence flowing through his veins, Arthur straightened up with a mischievous grin on his face. It would be a breeze. In and out. Easier than stealing pie from the kitchens on his birthday! [Which was very easy.]
Arthur took a deep breath and slowly pushed open the door to his Court Sorcerer’s chambers. It creaked loudly in the quiet of the night, echoing down the corridor, and he cringed. Froze. When no one came running out with accusations on their tongue, Arthur let out a sigh and slipped into the dark chambers. And dark they were.
Merlin was gone, like expected, and the hearth nor any of the candles were lit as a result.
A thrill ran down Arthur’s spine at the thought of being in Merlin’s chambers without permission. He knew he was the King—he could do whatever he wanted, he never needed permission—but it was just different. It was just different, then, in that moment.
Arthur shook off the feeling and crept in further.
It was hard to see, with no candlelight bringing Merlin’s chambers to a dim visibility. Still, Arthur squinted and made his best efforts to traverse the room without tripping or breaking anything. He succeeded in the latter! The former…
Arthur cursed when he tripped over a small pot on the floor.
Damn sorcerer needed to clean the place up.
Sighing, Arthur composed himself and resumed his trek around Merlin’s chambers until he reached his bed. It was large—almost as large as Arthur’s. He had made sure of it when he assigned Merlin his new chambers along with the title of Court Sorcerer. He had also made sure of the big, heavy, warm duvet covering it…
Arthur swallowed hard as he eyed it. He had requested it specially made for Merlin… Only the best for his Court Sorcerer, after all. It was perfect.
Soft, big, warm, heavy…and best of all, covered in Merlin’s scent.
Arthur took a shaky breath and reached out for it. Footsteps echoed from the corridor through the doors to Merlin’s chambers and Arthur stopped. Hand centimetres from the blanket.
His eyes snapped up, towards the door that was still cracked open and letting in infinitesimal amounts of light. His heart hammered against his ribcage, and he held his breath.
The footsteps receded and he relaxed.
Really, it was ridiculous for him to get so worked up over this. He was the King! He was allowed to do as he pleased and if anyone questioned it—well…to the dungeons! No. No, he wouldn’t do that. He could, though. They didn’t know he wouldn’t.
Merlin knew he wouldn’t, though.
If Merlin came back early and caught him…
Arthur bit his lip and grabbed the duvet. He held it for a moment, frozen in place and breathing fast and heavy. Nervous. Merlin was going to notice its absence. He was going to be suspicious. Maybe he would even notice Arthur had taken it. Realise Arthur had been in his chambers.
Then again, Merlin was…dangerously oblivious. A real fool. Arthur called him one for a reason! He nodded to himself and squared his shoulders. He could do it.
Merlin wouldn’t know a thing…
Reassured, and confident once more, Arthur tugged the duvet up off the bed. He pulled and bunched it up in his arms, holding it close to his chest. Then, he took a step back and nodded again.
Perfect.
Merlin wouldn’t know a thing.
His eyes caught something red in the dark as he started walking away from the bed and he stopped. Squinted harder. His heart stuttered when he made out the shape of one of Merlin’s neckerchiefs tied around one of the posts of Merlin’s bed.
On an impulse—a moment of weakness—Arthur dropped the blanket and quickly stepped over, untying the neckerchief. His eyes flicked to the door repeatedly until he got it off and clutched the fabric in his fist. Once he had it, he bent down and picked up the pile of blanket he’d dropped and adjusted it in his arms until he could see, and it wasn’t slipping out of grip.
Then, he made his way out of Merlin’s chambers and crept down the corridor back to his own, heart racing in his chest.
“My blanket is missing.”
Arthur nearly choked on air when he walked into Merlin’s chambers for supper the next evening.
“What?” he asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound too strained.
Merlin looked up with a frown from where he stood by his bed. He looked so confused, so unsure. Arthur almost felt guilty for what he’d done. Almost.
“My blanket,” Merlin repeated, “it’s missing… You know, the one you gifted me with the bed.”
“I know the one,” Arthur said, perhaps a bit too fast if the strange look Merlin was giving him meant anything. He cleared his throat and walked over to the table, sitting himself down at the head. His chambers or not, he was the King. He would sit at the head of the table. “Ah…that’s strange. Any idea what may have happened to it? That was an expensive blanket you know, Merlin, I thought you better than to lose it.”
Merlin made a mildly affronted noise as he stomped over. “Now, hold on!” He pulled out a chair and plopped himself down at the opposite side of the table from Arthur. “I was gone. You can’t really be blaming me for this.”
“Of course not!” Why would he? He knew where the duvet was. Even if Merlin didn’t. It would be back soon enough. Maybe. “Though, perhaps… Maybe if your chambers were better guarded…”
“Arthur, we are not doing this again.”
“Come on, Merlin, just—”
“You and I both know I can protect myself just fine,” Merlin snapped, perhaps harsher than he’d intended. Or at least, Arthur would pretend he didn’t intend to be that harsh with him.
Arthur took a deep breath. “I know.” He was still getting used to it, though.
Finding out his servant and best friend was not only a sorcerer, but an alpha as well… It was like suffering whiplash twice in one week. He’d accepted it. More than, really. But sometimes, it still took getting used to. Sometimes, old habits still stuck.
Like the urge to keep Merlin safe. Keep his sorcerer safe.
He wondered distantly if Merlin felt the same urge about him. Then, he felt a surge of guilt for not coming clean about being an omega when Merlin admitted he was an alpha those months ago. It would have been the perfect time. Yet, it would have changed everything…
It was better to just…continue masking his scent and parade around as the alpha Merlin assumed him to be.
“I’m sure you’ll find your blanket soon,” Arthur sighed. “You’ve probably just misplaced it somehow. Knowing you, it’s not that improbable.”
It wasn’t technically a lie.
He would return the blanket soon enough.
Maybe.
“It’s a massive blanket, you prat, how could I misplace that?” Merlin huffed, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
Arthur shifted in his chair. There was no way Merlin could know… Yet, the way he stared at him—no, there was no way he could know. “I don’t know, Merlin, you seem to have a skill for the impossible, though. Where is George? I’m starving and he’s taking much too long.”
“I am right here, your majesty.” Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin at George’s voice behind him. He twisted around in his chair with wide eyes.
George stared at him, bored, where he stood with two trays in his hands behind Arthur’s chair. He was too quiet. He was going to give Arthur a heart attack one of these days. Or worse, startle him while he’s got a sword on hand.
“Right, well, what are you waiting for?” Arthur asked, gesturing towards the table. “We’d like to eat tonight.”
“Of course, sire,” said George, calm. He bowed his head before quickly moving to place a tray in front of each Merlin and Arthur. Then, he bowed once more and took his exit.
Arthur watched him go with a blank expression. He was scarily good at his job. It was unsettling. Merlin seemed to like him, though, so Arthur wouldn’t dare threaten his job. Not to mention, how ridiculous would it be—fire a servant for being too good at their job?
George would likely have a meltdown.
Arthur snorted at the thought.
“I’m going to find that blanket.” Merlin’s declaration startled Arthur out of his thoughts. He blinked a few times as he processed the words, then paled. Merlin couldn’t find out Arthur had taken it. If he found out Arthur had it… If he found out why Arthur had it…
“I’m sure you will,” he muttered, hoping his voice didn’t betray his nerves.
He would need to find a better place for it than his own chambers…
Arthur let out a thoughtful noise as he dropped the duvet on the floor of the empty guest chambers, he’d commandeered the next day. The chambers were positioned just perfectly between his own and Merlin’s and were completely empty. They were perfect.
It had been a bit of work convincing the servants to disassemble the bedframe, especially as he didn’t want to make them suspicious. Suspicious servants gossiped and Merlin was the biggest gossip of them all.
Luckily, he’d managed to get them to do it with little questions.
Strangely enough, it was removing the disassembled frame from the room that confused them the most. As if they’d thought Arthur had planned to re-assemble the frame after he had them disassemble it. They did it, though, to his relief and kept their confusion mostly to themselves. Now, the mattress laid on the floor directly, with a large number of pillows surrounding it, including Arthur’s own propped up at the head of the bed.
He stood in front of the floor bed, now, with Merlin’s blanket on the floor beside him. His eyes scanned the mattress and pillow arrangement before he bent over and tugged off his boots. He tossed them carelessly aside once they were off and picked up the duvet again. Then, Arthur carefully stepped onto the mattress and sat down in the middle, blanket scrunched up in his lap.
He knew what he was doing. He tried not to think about it, but he knew what he was doing. Anyone who saw him would know what he was doing. It wasn’t exactly the best covert operation.
Arthur let out a sigh and began to carefully lay out the heavy duvet. He stood when he needed to, to lay it out completely along the mattress beneath him, before straightening it out and flopping back onto it.
It was barely a start, but it was a start none the less. And a good one, since he already had his key object.
Merlin’s blanket.
The star of his nest.
Because that’s what it was. Arthur knew it—even a fool like Merlin would know if he saw it. Arthur was nesting. He was nesting and he’d stolen Merlin’s favourite and best duvet, the one he’d gifted to him, for his nest.
It smelled like him. Brought him comfort. Made him feel, inexplicably, safe.
If Merlin ever found out—Arthur would…well, he wasn’t sure what he would do. But he didn’t want Merlin to find out. Especially since Merlin still thought he was an alpha… Because Arthur let him think he was an alpha.
And if Merlin saw the nest he was making…
Well, it would be rather clear how much Arthur was lying to him.
And what a hypocrite he’d be then. Having gotten so upset with Merlin for lying to him so long about being a magic user and an alpha. When here he was, doing the same thing…
Arthur let out a shaky sigh and rolled onto his stomach, pressing his face into the duvet. He inhaled deeply, breathing in Merlin’s scent. It was like he was actually there. Scent not yet fading. It would begin to fade soon, though, so Arthur breathed it in, now. Let the comfort wash over him.
Let the reassurance he was doing the right thing by keeping it all a secret rush through him.
It wasn’t that he was ashamed. No, he was proud to be what he was. He was just—protecting their relationship.
Everything between them would change if Merlin knew he was an omega, after all. And Arthur treasured his friendship with Merlin too much to risk it on the possibility of becoming more. The small, minute possibility that Merlin would want Arthur like Arthur wanted him.
If anything, Merlin would just be upset with Arthur for keeping it from him. Would probably pull back, scared of doing something to harm him. As if he could. Arthur was a damn good warrior and had never met a gentler alpha. It was why he didn’t suspect Merlin to be anything but a beta before he confessed.
Arthur wanted him, though. Wanted him to be there with him, in his nest, holding him through his heat when it came [and he knew it was soon]. Wanted him in every possible way. Desperately. Yet, instead of telling Merlin, he let his pride and fear of ruining their friendship get in the way and…sneaked through the castle after dark stealing blankets.
A loud bang not unlike a slamming door echoed from outside the room, in the corridor, and Arthur shot upright. Yanked out of his self-pitying, guilt-ridden thoughts in an instant. On red alert.
His heart pounded in his chest as his eyes locked onto the doors across the chambers. They were closed, but there were heavy footsteps approaching loudly.
The footsteps stopped and Arthur knew whoever it was, was right outside the doors. He gripped Merlin’s duvet tightly in his fists, staring. If they walked in… If it was Merlin. The doors began to creak open, and Arthur felt ready to bolt. Which was rather unkingly, in his opinion, but really—what else was he meant to do?
Stay and explain?
As if!
Merlin would take one look and know immediately, and Arthur would be screwed.
He gripped the blanket tighter. Distantly, he wanted to wrap himself in it and hide, but gods, wasn’t that even more unkingly than running? He straightened his posture as the doors opened enough and the unwelcome guest slipped into the room and—
“Morgana?” Arthur’s shoulders slumped, confusion and annoyance mixing in his expression.
Morgana’s shoes clicked on the floor as she walked into the room, shutting the doors behind herself. “George told Gwen you were in here, and she told me—” she paused, raised an eyebrow, “—is that Merlin’s missing blanket?”
“And so what if it is?” Arthur shot back, already on the defensive.
Morgana shrugged and walked over, stopping at the edge of his nest. She didn’t make any move to enter it, though, respecting his boundaries.
Arthur was almost embarrassed for her to be seeing it in the state it was. It wasn’t even near ready. It was just the skeleton of a nest. He needed night to fall, though, so he could gather more materials.
“I take it from him thinking it’s lost that…you haven’t told him, still, then?” she asked, sitting down on her knees in front of the pillow border. Arthur scoffed quietly and looked away, down at the duvet in his grasp.
Morgana sighed.
“I know you don’t want to hear it—”
“Then don’t say it,” Arthur cut her off, meeting her gaze once more with narrowed eyes. “I’m not telling him. He’d be…well, I missed my chance to tell him without causing a fight. By a few months, now.”
“Arthur, you’re stealing his things for your nest,” Morgana pressed, a slight tone of desperation in her voice. Arthur would say she was worried about him, but she was probably just tired of seeing him dance around Merlin. Like a fool.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” he huffed.
Morgana crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes into a glare. “That’s a lie and you know it.”
“I’m not telling him, Morgana.” Arthur laid back on the duvet and looked up to the ceiling.
“He’s going to find out.”
“I’m not telling him.”
“And you’re going to lie about your heat when it comes, again, too?” Morgana asked, sighing loudly. “What are you going to tell him this time? Just going to lock yourself up in here and tell him you’re sick again? What if you forget that thing Gaius makes you to mask your scent?”
Arthur cringed. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked at Morgana. She had her arms crossed and a stern look on her face. The picture of a woman who would not be backing down. Arthur flopped back down. “I am not talking to you about this.”
“Well, who will you discuss it with?” Morgana fired back, “I am sick and tired of you dealing with this alone. You make yourself miserable because you refuse to take heat suppressors—”
“—because I shouldn’t have to—”
“—and you refuse to tell Merlin, the one person you may actually let help you,” she finished like Arthur hadn’t interrupted. “And I know you hate talking about this with me, but Arthur you’re being a fool.”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“It is not pity,” Morgana scoffed, “do you know how tiring this all is? You pining and whining and yearning yet doing nothing to take him when he’s so clearly mad about you? Honestly, the only reason Merlin hasn’t jumped you is because you let him think you’re an alpha and he’s already started one uprising in court with his magic.”
“Right, ever the kindest, you are.” Arthur rolled his eyes.
Despite it all, though, he could still hear the care behind her words. Sure, she was tired of his pining, but he knew she just wanted him to be happy, too. At least, he would tell himself she did.
“Just talk to him already, Arthur, this has gone on too long,” she muttered. Arthur could hear her push herself to her feet. “You’ve got his favourite duvet for the base of your nest. It’s hard to ignore what that says.”
And with that, she walked out. Shoes clicking loudly in the silence she left Arthur in. The door slammed behind her, and Arthur rolled onto his stomach, groaning loudly.
When night fell again, Arthur slipped out into the corridor with his cloak around him once more. The hood almost covered his eyes, and it was annoying, but it would help him from getting recognised if he was caught.
Merlin was home this time, so it would be trickier.
Arthur took a deep breath as he approached Merlin’s chambers. He would need to be even quieter than he was the other night. If Merlin woke up, he would have little chance to grab anything… He needed to get as much as he could.
He wasn’t sure if he would be able to risk a third visit.
Sparing one final glance around the corridor to make sure no one was watching, Arthur slowly and quietly pushed open the doors to Merlin’s chambers just enough to slip inside. The door creaked as Arthur propped it open and he cringed.
The room was dimly lit by the hearth and a few dying candles. Merlin, Arthur could see faintly as he walked deeper into his chambers, was lying in bed. Fast asleep, tangled in thin sheets and a spare duvet the servants had likely brought him. There were two pillows at his head, though he only used one.
Arthur’s eyes locked onto the unused one.
It would be risky…
He shook his head and made his way to Merlin’s wardrobe; glad he’d opted to leave his boots off to help keep quiet. His heart was racing, and he was breathing slowly—trying to keep himself near silent.
Arthur opened the wardrobe, tensing when he heard Merlin groan and move around. He stayed frozen until he silenced again.
He needed to be quick. Arthur took a deep breath and dug around through Merlin’s clothes. He would admit, he probably looked rather strange to anyone who may see him. Not that he planned on being seen. He could still acknowledge the strangeness of stealing his best friends’ clothes, though.
Arthur filled his arms with a couple of his favourite tunics, bunching them up without care for the wrinkles. They’d get wrinkled in his nest anyway. Then, he clothed up Merlin’s wardrobe and glanced around. A neckerchief laid over the back of one of the table chairs across the room.
One of Merlin’s favourite, Arthur recognised as he squinted to see it better.
A grin spread across his face, and he walked over, snatching it up. It would pair nicely with the first neckerchief he’d taken.
It was only after he’d grabbed a decent assortment of Merlin’s things to cover his nest with, he finally turned to face the bed again.
Merlin’s pillow.
It would be the riskiest steal of the night. Yet, he couldn’t help imagining laying it down with his own in his nest and burying his face in it. It would be almost as good as the duvet he’d stolen borrowed.
Arthur crept over to the bed. He stopped beside it, holding his breath. Merlin looked so peaceful… And the second pillow was perfectly steal-able. He adjusted the things in his arms already to free up his hands and slowly leaned down. His heart was beating so fast, so loud, he was sure that if Merlin were awake, he would hear it.
Carefully, he grabbed the pillow and tugged it into his arms. He moved fast, doing it in one swift motion. Once it was in his arms, everything adjusted so it was comfortable, Arthur let out a relieved sigh and straightened up.
He couldn’t believe he’d succeeded. He’d not gotten caught! He’d done it!
Arthur grinned to himself and turned, heading back for the door. He would go set it all up right away! Sure, he wouldn’t get much sleep, but it would be worth it. He was the King, anyway, if he wanted to sleep in, he could damn well sleep in!
The knights would be pleased to not be having early morning training.
Then again, morning training was a necessity… Arthur let out a sigh. He was going to be exhausted in the morning. Maybe he would go easy on them.
Lost in his thoughts, Arthur didn’t notice the dirty shirt on the floor until it was too late. He let out a loud totally manly yelp as he stumbled forward, frantically trying to hold all his things tight, so he didn’t drop them. His breathing was heavy and fast as he righted himself again.
“Who’s there?”
Arthur froze. The voice cut through the room like a blade and Arthur’s heart felt like it was going to explode.
“I said who’s there?” Merlin asked again, voice hard and demanding. Arthur didn’t dare turn around, but he just knew that if he did, he would see golden eyes blazing in the dark. “I can see you! Don’t make me hurt you. Who are you?”
Arthur clutched his stolen items tighter, closer to his chest, and did the only thing he could.
Run.
Merlin let out a disgruntled noise, but as Arthur rushed out into the corridor, door slamming shut behind him, it didn’t sound like he was being pursued. He didn’t waste any time getting back to the guest chambers he’d had set up for him. His heart nearly pounding out of his chest as he slipped inside and barred the doors behind him before leaning against it.
It had been much too close. Merlin had almost caught him. Arthur slid down the door, still clutching his stolen things close. Let his eyes fall shut for a moment as he calmed himself. It had been much too close.
Once Arthur was able to compose himself, he slowly pulled himself to his feet and made his way to his nest. A small burst of pride ran through him at the sight of Merlin’s duvet laid out neatly, and he carefully stepped over the pillow border and plopped himself down in the middle.
A smile on his face, Arthur sighed and began carefully arranging his new materials. Starting with the prized pillow, which he placed right up next to his own.
“Elyan!” Arthur called the next morning at training, “you’re a blacksmith’s son, I know you know how to hold a sword! Right, there we go…” He paused and ran his hands through his hair. “Now—no, I want you to—no, Gwaine! Percival don’t encourage him! Gwaine! Put down the—”
“The Brave and Courageous Knights of Camelot being a handful of children this fine morning?” Arthur jumped slightly at Merlin’s voice coming from beside him so abruptly. He, against his better judgement, turned away from his misbehaving knights to face his Court Sorcerer.
“I thought I’d go light of them this morning, let them have some fun,” he sighed. “That was a mistake.”
Merlin let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Is Gwaine trying to—?”
“Yes. Yes, he is,” Arthur groaned.
“And is Elyan—”
“Yes, he is.”
“And Percival is just…encouraging this?”
“Lancelot and Mordred, too.” The sigh that left Arthur’s lips was truly long-suffering. So much so it rivalled Leon, himself. Speaking of, “I think Leon is the only one actually training.”
“You’re never going light on them again, are you?” Merlin sighed, though Arthur could hear the hint of amusement in his voice. When Arthur only shook his head and flopped back onto the grass, Merlin chuckled and sat beside him. “I had a visitor last night.”
He said it so casually—like one would comment on the weather—and Arthur’s heart stuttered.
“A visitor?” he asked, trying for nonchalant. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Merlin scoffed softly and laid down on the grass next to him, both of them ignoring the Knights and their mischief. Arthur would grant them this one day of fun.
“Not that kind of visitor, you prat,” he muttered. Merlin paused, then added almost hesitantly, “no I would say this was more an…intruder. A thief, actually.”
“A thief?” Arthur tried for surprised, hoping it didn’t come out more nervous.
Merlin nodded, turned onto his side to face him. Arthur stayed on his back and refused to look at him outside of his peripheral vision. “Yeah, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
Did he know? He couldn’t know. Arthur had been so careful! He couldn’t know.
“No,” Arthur lied, “no, why do you ask?”
There was a moment of silence. Merlin slowly pushed himself upright. There was a slow, deliberateness to his actions that set Arthur on edge. He pushed himself into a sitting position as well, mirroring his sorcerer. The knights, it seemed, had finally began to actually get training. Gwaine sparring with Elyan, Lancelot with Percy, Leon with Mordred…
“They were wearing your cloak. The one you wear when you’re sneaking around.”
Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. No, no, no—he saw him! He recognised his cloak! What happened to the obliviousness!?
“Arthur,” Merlin began, reaching over and placing a hand on Arthur’s knee. So gentle it hurt. “Why are you stealing my things?”
There was a knowing tone to his voice that made Arthur feel sick. His stomach flipped and turned, and his head spun. Did Merlin know? There was no way he could know… Yet, he spoke like he did. Arthur took a deep breath, cursing himself internally when it came shaking.
“Arthur,” Merlin pressed, “are you—”
“Elyan!” Arthur cut Merlin off, leaping to his feet, “toss me a sword, you’re sparring with me. We’re going to demonstrate a few things!”
Elyan blinked a few times as he and Gwaine stopped, backing away from each other. He looked a bit confused, startled even by the sudden command. Yet, he picked up a spare sword none the less and held it out.
Arthur wasted no time walking over to him and taking the sword, ignoring and avoiding Merlin in the process.
Merlin knew.
He avoided Merlin for the rest of the day.
It was hard, especially at the council meetings and when Morgana and Gwen, both individually cornered him about avoiding Merlin, but he did. Merlin eventually stopped trying to talk to Arthur, and Arthur had to admit the confused, kicked puppy look on his face made his heart ache. Guilt tugged at his chest.
In the end, he didn’t give in, though.
Now, he sat in the guest chambers he made his nest in and carefully rearranged the items making it up. It was quiet and comfortable. Merlin’s belongings were strewn all about it. It was still rather small, though, not very full, and definitely not perfect… Yet, Arthur couldn’t help but love it.
Yes, it was small and not very full and definitely not perfect, but it was full of Merlin’s things, and it was comfortable, and it was perfect to Arthur.
Gently, he readjusted the pillows at the front—Merlin’s and his own side by side. He fluffed them both up a bit and laid Merlin’s neckerchiefs on them. One on each. Then, finally deeming it good enough, Arthur flopped onto his back and rolled onto his stomach.
If Morgana saw his nest now, well—she’d probably drag him to talk to Merlin by his ear.
He let out a sigh and reached out, grabbing the neckerchief on his own pillow. It was red and looked newer. Smelled like Merlin still, though. Arthur rolled onto his side. The fabric was soft and well-made. It had to be one of the ones Arthur had gifted him…
How funny, he quietly noted, that he had taken it back.
Arthur huffed slightly, the noise vaguely reminiscent of a laugh, and wrapped the folded square of fabric around his wrist. It almost looked like a favour like that… Arthur’s heart fluttered at the thought of wearing Merlin’s favour in a tournament.
A small ache ran through Arthur’s spine, and he groaned, stretching out before shifting to be on his back again. When the ache faded, he finished tying the neckerchief around his wrist.
It looked good.
Or at least, Arthur thought it did.
It was something of Merlin’s, on him. So, naturally, he loved it. Loved the faux closeness to Merlin it brought.
He sighed again and rose his wrist to his face, pressing the fabric against his nose and mouth before inhaling deeply.
Another ache shuddered through him, more prominent this time.
Arthur clenched his fists tight, gripping the duvet beneath him with the hand not at his face. The ache didn't fade right away this time, it lingered, and Arthur arched his back in an attempt to make it go away faster. It was strange, familiar, but he was too distracted to realise what was happening.
Thoughts of Merlin clouding his mind.
He shouldn’t have ignored him.
Merlin knew—ignoring him didn’t change that. It just made Arthur an ass. [Well…more so than he already was.]
The ache faded and Arthur huffed. Moved his clothed wrist away from his face and curled onto his side again. Almost subconsciously, his face buried itself into the blanket beneath him. Merlin’s scent was all around him.
It was like he was really there…
He wished he was really there.
A gentle knock on the door startled Arthur out of his thoughts. His shoulders tensed and he pushed himself upright, looking to the doors.
“Arthur?” Merlin’s voice carried from the other side. Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. “Arthur, can I come in?”
Merlin. Merlin was there… Arthur held his breath, his eyes wide as he stared at the doors. Merlin was there. A shiver ran through Arthur, and he gasped, gripping the duvet beneath him tighter.
Oh.
Oh.
“Yes,” Arthur called, a tad hesitantly. He cleared his throat and tried again, putting on a show of confidence. “Yes, come in, Merlin.”
His heart was unusually calm as the doors creaked open. He watched as Merlin stepped in and shut the door behind himself, head down and eyes on the floor. Arthur wanted to laugh when he realised Merlin almost looked like a subservient servant. Then he looked up, though, right at Arthur and the nest, and Arthur’s heart stopped.
Merlin inhaled shakily, his eyes widening.
Arthur wanted to hide.
Instead, though, he straightened his posture and held his head high. Despite the way his hands gripped the blanket so tight his knuckles turned white, and the way his heart began to speed up to a dangerous speed, as Merlin made his way over.
He stopped right in front of the nests pillow border and hesitated. Caution written on his face as he stared down at the pillows.
“You can come in,” Arthur said quietly, deciding he had nothing left to lose since Merlin now knew. Merlin’s eyes snapped up to Arthur’s face, stunned. Like he really didn’t expect to be invited into Arthur’s nest despite it being made largely of his things. “If you want, I mean… I’d like you to—come in, that is. If you’d like to.”
Merlin stared at him for a moment, silent, and Arthur held his gaze. A brief flicker of worry hit him at Merlin’s hesitation. What if he didn’t want to? What if Arthur read it all wrong? What if he just wanted to see the truth for himself but didn’t want Arthur?
His worries were quickly put out when Merlin bent over and pulled off his boots. Merlin looked around a little before eventually just shrugging and tossing them haphazardly to the side.
Arthur watched as Merlin carefully stepped into the nest and settled down beside him.
It was quiet in the room, and Merlin was so close, in his nest—which was filled with his stolen things. His heart was going to give out, surely.
“It’s lovely,” Merlin said quietly, motioning around them, “I see what happened to my blanket…”
“It’s your fault for not implementing better security measures,” Arthur huffed, looking away. He was deflecting from the real matter at hand, but Merlin was too, so it was okay. He took a deep breath. “Really, it was much too easy to get in and out. For a powerful sorcerer, you’re really a fool. A child could have broken in with ease.”
“Mm, maybe,” Merlin hummed. He made to lay down before pausing, propped on his elbows. “May I?”
How polite.
“Unlike you to ask permission,” Arthur snorted, “you’d probably lay down even if I said no.”
Merlin cracked a cheeky smile. “Probably.”
He didn’t lay down, though. Instead, he held Arthur’s gaze and waited, silent. Patient. Ever the politest alpha Arthur had met. Arthur almost wanted to slap him. A part of him was comforted by it, though.
It meant Merlin wasn’t mad at him for keeping such a big thing secret.
Arthur gave an infinitesimal nod of his head and Merlin sighed. He flopped onto his back and looked at the high ceiling.
“So, aren’t you going to ask me?” Arthur questioned.
Merlin’s brows pulled into a frown as he looked to Arthur. “What do you mean?”
“You know,” Arthur shrugged, laying down beside him. His stomach flipped at the close proximity. “Why didn’t I tell you I’m an omega and all that.”
Merlin didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched over them for a good few minutes. Arthur’s heart finally began to calm down as he relaxed. He rolled onto his side to face Merlin, startled to find Merlin on his side facing him. A warm grin on his face.
“No,” he said, “I know you had your reasons—and I trust you. I do wish you would have told me, though.”
“I didn’t know how you’d react.”
“Is that my neckerchief?” Merlin changed the subject, his eyes on Arthur’s wrist. “I’ve been looking for that.”
“It smells like you,” Arthur told him, uncaring how it sounded now that everything else was already out. What was the point in keeping anything else a secret when his biggest was already revealed? [A reveal which had gone much better and rather anticlimactic, honestly, Arthur wanted on the record.]
Merlin’s lips pulled into a smile, and he shifted closer. He reached out and grabbed the wrist with the fabric tied around it, pulling it up between their faces.
“I think I could get used to seeing you wear my favour,” he teased.
“If I wear your favour, you have to dress like a swooning lady to attend the tournament,” Arthur shot back. Merlin let out a laugh and the ache from before abruptly hit again.
Arthur took a deep breath, tensing as a light heat followed the ache. Barely there, but still noticeable. Silently, he cursed. He didn’t have much time now. Merlin being so close, in his nest, his scent so strong—it was just too much…
“Arthur, are you alright?” Merlin asked as he moved his hand from Arthur’s wrist to his hand and tangled their fingers.
“Yes, yeah, yes,” Arthur lied, “merely tired. It’s been a long day avoiding you.”
Merlin snorted softly. “I’m sure it has.” He paused a moment. “Do you want me to leave so you can rest?”
The thought of Merlin leaving now, when Arthur was finally so close to having him, was like ice down his shirt in the winter. He held Merlin’s hand tight and shook his head. Closed his eyes.
“No,” he said firmly, “no, stay with me. I want you to…stay. Through it all.”
Merlin inhaled sharply, audibly. The silence that followed was deafening. Arthur was about ready to roll onto his back and laugh, call it all a joke—say he got Merlin good—when Merlin finally spoke.
“Through it all?” he repeated.
Arthur sighed in relief.
“Through it all,” he confirmed. He opened his eyes and looked passed their hands to Merlin, meeting his eyes. He almost wanted to laugh at the slack-jawed look on his face. “My heat is… It could come at any time now and I—” he paused, cleared his throat. “—I want you to be the one to help me through it, Merlin. If you’d have me.”
“You mean you want me to…” Merlin trailed off, wide eyed.
Arthur rolled his eyes, ignoring the flush rising to his face. “Yes, Merlin, I want you to…help me through my heat.” Really, would he have to say it in vulgar terms for him to get the point? Arthur knew he called Merlin a fool plenty, but now he was beginning to wonder if he was right. He bit back a small laugh at his own thoughts, taking a moment before adding, “consider this me giving you my…pre-heat consent. I want you to be here with me, doing whatever it takes to help me through it.”
“Okay,” Merlin breathed. “Okay, yeah. Yes, I would…yes.”
Arthur let out a sigh of relief.
“Until then, though, you should rest,” Merlin told him after taking a moment to compose himself. Arthur would have teased him for getting so flustered just by the thought of having Arthur however he wanted, but instead he just smirked. “You should get as much as possible before your heat hits.”
“Yes, Merlin, I have been through this before,” Arthur retorted, ignoring it when the familiar ache shuddered through him again.
“Not with me, you haven’t,” Merlin pointed out as he pulled his hand from Arthur’s. Arthur would have mourned the loss had Merlin not immediately wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him close. “I’m going to make this as good as possible for you.”
The words, innocent enough without context, sent shivers through Arthur. He didn’t doubt Merlin would for a second. Arthur took a deep breath and pressed himself closer to Merlin.
He shut his eyes and let sleep take him as Merlin held him in his arms, surrounded by his stolen things.
When Arthur woke again, it was to a dim room as evening sunlight poured in through the windows, no one in his arms, a faint damp feeling between his legs, and a burning heat all over his body.
Arthur groaned as he rolled onto his back, peeling his eyes open. His breath came in heavy but slow pants and his thoughts were fuzzy. Clouded. His clothes rubbed against his skin uncomfortably as he moved, and he couldn’t help but notice a worrying lack of Merlin in the room. His heartbeat was unusually loud to his own ears, and faster than probably healthy.
The doors creaked open before slamming shut and Arthur froze, eyes wide. Footsteps approached and an overwhelming, intoxicating, scent filled the air around him and—
Arthur moaned. His back arching off the blanket beneath him, body aching and burning, he moaned. And he couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed by the utterly wanton noise that left his lips as someone knelt beside him.
“Hey—hey, Arthur,” Merlin’s voice reached his ears, gentle but firm, and he gasped when a cold hand cupped his cheek—a wave of hot arousal rushing through him as the scent flooded his senses. Arthur turned his head to look at Merlin, who stared down at him with a touch of concern on his features.
“You left,” Arthur accused, his voice coming out a bit breathless. His breeches were tighter than usual, he noticed. “You said you’d stay.”
“I was just getting some water to cool you down,” Merlin promised in a murmur. He held out the cup of water in his other hand out for Arthur to see as proof.
Arthur groaned again and turned to face the ceiling once more. Merlin pulled his hand away from Arthur’s face and sat back on his legs, staring at him for a moment. He was so close, and his scent was so strong. Arthur thought he may go insane.
“Come on, let’s get you out of these…” Merlin sighed, tugging Arthur into an upright position with his free hand. “Shirt first, come on, help me out here.” When Arthur made no move to pull off his tunic aside from giving Merlin a look, Merlin smirked and teased, “Don’t tell me you still don’t know how to undress yourself.”
“Mm, why not? Have you to do it for me,” Arthur grinned only to grimace as another, stronger ache hit him, followed by another wave of arousal. Merlin was so close.
Merlin’s playful smirk quickly shifted to a worried frown and Arthur almost laughed. It was like he’d never seen an omega in heat before. Arthur froze, blinked once. Twice. Thrice. Had Merlin never seen an omega in heat before…?
No, surely, he had.
He had to have.
Arthur let out a shaky breathless noise that—while perhaps sounding like a whine—was absolutely not a whine, when Merlin grabbed at the hem of his tunic with one hand and his fingers brushed his bare skin under it.
“Here, drink this so we can set it down and get this off you.” Merlin pushed the cup of water he held in his other hand into Arthur’s hands. Arthur quickly grabbed it from him and frowned at the liquid.
Part of him wanted to toss it aside—it wasn’t what he wanted, what he needed—but the logical, still slightly there, part of him knew he needed the water just as much. So, he lifted the cup to his lips and tipped it back.
The cold water on his tongue was like ambrosia. He would refuse to admit the noise he made as it cooled his mouth in future. Still, though, he quickly downed the cup of water. Arthur wasn’t sure he’d ever had such cold water before.
Maybe it was the heat.
Everything felt amplified.
Sure, he’d had heats before, but gods, something felt different.
Almost subconsciously, his eyes found Merlin—who sat still beside him, fingers playing with the hem of Arthur’s shirt as he waited.
His lips quirked into a smile when he realised it was Merlin. Merlin was what was different. Swallowing the last drop of water, Arthur tossed the cup carelessly out of the nest he’d carefully constructed. Merlin snorted softly from beside him but said nothing.
He wasted no time in tugging Arthur’s tunic over his head and tossing it aside once the cup was out of the way. And he had to admit, the lack of fabric rubbing roughly against his hot skin was relieving.
Arthur let out a sigh and flopped onto his back again, eyelids fluttering shut as the cold air of the room around him hit his chest. He was desperately holding onto the last threads of coherence he had left—his thoughts muddled and cloudy from the combination of arousal hot in his belly and Merlin’s scent assaulting his senses.
Merlin’s hands tugged at the strings to Arthur’s breeches, and he tensed, his eyes flying open. His hips lifted almost on instinct as Merlin gently pushed the restricting clothing down and off, leaving him in thin undergarments—his erection already straining uncomfortably against the light fabric.
He heard Merlin inhaled sharply, could practically feel his eyes on his lap. The attention stoked the fire burning in his belly. Shamelessly and impulsively, Arthur shoved down the remaining clothing and kicked them off before spreading his legs and bending his knees—completely exposing himself. His cock stood proud against his belly, flushed and aching, and the slick, wet, feeling between his legs became infinitely more noticeable at the shift in his position.
A light flush rose to his face that had little to do with the head covering his body.
He looked up, a rush of pride surging through him at the dazed look on Merlin’s face as he stared down at his body. His dazzling blue eyes nearly black—pupils blown with lust. He preened at the reaction he managed to earn from Merlin [an alpha! His thoughts provided unhelpfully] with just one simple action.
“Arthur,” Merlin said quietly, sounding as breathless as Arthur felt, “oh, gods, you are a…dream.”
His heart stuttered.
“Does that mean you dream of me often?” Arthur teased, but the words lacked bite—came out almost shaky—as desperation settled in him beneath Merlin’s hungry stare. He bent his knees more, heels nearly touching his ass. “Come on, Merlin, come on.”
Merlin shifted closer, placed a hand on Arthur’s belly and Arthur bit his lip. He gripped the blanket beneath him tightly as another shudder of arousal shot through him. World blurring and thighs trembling with anticipation as Merlin’s hand slowly slid lower and lower.
He was so aroused it hurt. And Merlin was being so slow. So careful. So teasing. He lifted his hips off the blanket slightly, pressing up into Merlin’s light, but burning, touch.
“Don’t tease,” he tried to order but it came out more of a whimper.
Merlin’s eyes snapped up to his face, wide and startled. “I’m not teasing!” he said quickly, pulling his hand back. Arthur wouldn’t deny the whine that left him at losing Merlin’s touch. “I’m not teasing… I’m trying to make this good for you.”
“Then fuck me!” Arthur snapped, tossing his arms up and laying them on the blanket above his head—leaving every inch of himself open and vulnerable to Merlin. “Fuck me now, or I’ll fuck myself on your blanket. That’s how you make this good for me! Gods, I need—oh, fuck, it’s…”
He trailed off, breathing heavily as he tried desperately to compose himself. It was hard. It was really hard. He wanted to throw himself at Merlin, beg for it, plead for Merlin to fuck him—to knot him.
Somewhere, though, buried beneath the heat haze clouding his mind, he still had some small shred of dignity he wasn’t ready to throw away. Had a small sliver of sanity reminding him he was a King, and he should act like one heat or not. Until Merlin fixed himself between Arthur’s legs and took his cock into his hand, spreading the precome beading at the tip down the length of it and his mind blanked.
His back arched and he scrambled to grip the duvet beneath him, tossing his head back as he whined at the touch.
All sense lost.
All care gone.
“Patience,” Merlin said, squeezing the base of his cock lightly. “You’ll get what you need, I promise.”
Arthur lifted his head and looked down at Merlin between his legs. The sight itself was…unbearably arousing. He took a deep, shaking breath, before dropping his head back against the blanket again. Trying to regain any sort of semblance of coherence.
Then there were lips pressed against the tip of his cock, though, and Arthur let go of his attempts. His legs trembled as Merlin closed his lips around the head and lowered himself down. Arthur couldn’t help but lift his head again and stare, propping himself up on his elbows to watch, stunned and panting and incredulous.
Merlin looked back up at him as he took him in all the way down, the head of his cock brushing against the back of Merlin’s throat. He stayed like that for just a moment before he pulled back halfway, dragging his tongue along the underside as he did. A look in his eyes like arousal.
Normally, Arthur would have cringed at the wet feeling of slick gushing out of him [and surely onto the blanket, poor thing], but now all he could focus on was the way Merlin swallowed him down and licked him up like it was all he wanted to do.
He hollowed his cheeks and sucked, and Arthur’s toes curled. A sound not unlike what one would hear from a brothel house pulled from Arthur’s lips as he abruptly came on Merlin’s tongue.
Merlin held eye contact, unwavering, as he swallowed every last drop of come shooting into his mouth. Arthur nearly came again just from the sight alone. He should have known Merlin would be the kind of alpha who tended to their omega’s every need and not just the obvious ones.
If only it did anything to really satiate his hot, aching, obvious need.
“Merlin,” he breathed, the voice leaving him almost sounding unfamiliar. So drenched in need and desperation. Merlin pulled off with a pop and Arthur whimpered, “Merlin, please.”
“Up,” was all he said in return.
Arthur blinked a few times, clouded thoughts unable to work out what the hell he meant before Merlin sat back on his heels with a chuckle. He pat Arthur’s knee lightly and nodded towards him. “Up,” he repeated, “On your hands and knees. Now.”
His voice was so gentle, yet so commanding at the same time. So soft, yet so powerful. It sent shivers through Arthur as he found himself rushing to obey, despite faintly wanting to disobey just because he could.
Except he couldn’t because, dammit, he needed Merlin inside of him yesterday.
Merlin moved back as Arthur rolled over and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, hanging his head down to look at Merlin back between his legs. Merlin just stared at him, wide eyed and almost awed. Arthur wasn’t opposed to begging at that point, a desperate sob building in his throat as he watched Merlin just stare.
He needed him. He needed him.
Every nerve was on fire and he felt like he may die if he didn’t get Merlin inside him right that second.
He’d had intense heats before—ones worse than his current—but nothing made it worse than having the alpha of his dreams there, intoxicating scent flooding the room, doing nothing but staring at his leaking hole as he presented himself so willingly and shamelessly for the taking.
So, when Merlin finally moved closer again, and placed his hands on Arthur’s ass—spreading his cheeks and leaving him exposed as he could be—Arthur could’ve cried from relief. Expecting Merlin to strip down and fuck him into the blanket until he couldn’t speak.
His cock twitched where it hung painfully hard between his legs at the thought, leaking and eager. His thoughts were void of anything but Merlin fucking him senseless, and he didn’t even realise the desperate pleading echoing through the room was him until he stopped—cut off by a sharp gasp as Merlin dipped a thumb into his wet hole.
Slowly, he pushed it in, wiggled it about, and then pulled it back out, teasing the rim. Barely starting to push in his thumb before pulling back before the digit actually breached him.
“You’re soaking,” Merlin murmured, the words coming out reverently—like a prayer. Amazed. The crimson blush on Arthur’s face only had half to do with the burning heat all over his body. The heat which was only eased a fraction of a fraction by Merlin’s ruthless teasing of his rim with his thumb. “You want it so bad… You need it.”
“I need it,” Arthur repeated, gasping as the thumb dipped inside again. His thighs and arms trembled, and his cock jerked. His body echoing his words. “I need it, oh gods, Merlin, I need it…I need it, I need you, please. I need your knot.”
Arthur felt a rush of satisfaction when his words alone dragged a moan out of Merlin. It wasn’t anything close to the satisfaction he would feel when Merlin finally fucked him until his legs gave out, though, he knew already. Oh, gods, he wanted it so bad. He could’ve come from the thought alone at this point.
“Soon,” Merlin promised, “but first…you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this…”
Arthur barely had time to process the words before Merlin ducked down and licked a stripe over Arthur’s already wet hole. Arthur inhaled sharply, his whole body shuddering. Merlin licked again, before slowly pushing his tongue past the tight, wet, ring of muscle.
His breath felt like it was locked in his lungs as Merlin pulled his tongue out, only to hurriedly push it back in. Using his tongue like he would his fingers. Licking into him only to pull away, take a breath, and lick into him again.
Over and over and over and—
Arthur’s arms gave out and he pressed his chest down against the duvet, turning his head to the side to rest his cheek on it. He moaned, wanton and shameless, as Merlin fucked him with his tongue.
He pushed his hips back against Merlin’s face, trying to get his tongue in further—deeper—until Merlin’s hands found his sides and held his hips firmly in place with a near bruising grip. Thrusting in his tongue again, and again, and again, all the while refusing Arthur any sort of touch or friction on his leaking cock and any movement of his hips.
Managing to miss that spot Arthur longed for him to find every time.
Almost like he was deliberately trying not to reach the bundle of nerves that would set the world alight.
And then he added his fingers and the world stuttered.
Tongue buried deep in Arthur, Merlin pushed in one finger alongside it first. Thrust slowly once. Twice. Three times. Then, he added a second, and the burn of the stretch barely registered beneath the relief of having something in him.
Arthur gripped the duvet beneath him like a lifeline, practically sobbing as Merlin fucked him in every way but the one way he needed. Drawing out both his pain and pleasure in an excruciatingly delicious way.
The begging that fell from his lips was barely coherent. Not really strings of sentences. Hardly even words. More just a garbled mess of pleading. Merlin pulled his face back—removing his tongue from the equation and instead adding a third finger. He didn’t slow down, though, he paused just long enough to stretch Arthur and fit in the third, before immediately going back to fucking him with his fingers in earnest.
Thrusting them in and out fast and messily—slick dripping down Arthur’s thighs and soaking Merlin’s fingers. Until finally, he hooked his fingers just right and Arthur came hard for the second time since waking with a broken cry, painting the beautiful duvet beneath them with thick, white strands of come.
Yet, even as the orgasm tore through his body, his legs quaking and threatening to give out under Merlin’s continued assault against his prostate, the fire burning through him didn’t waver. If anything, it burned hotter. His body more and more desperate the longer he went without—everything else so good but just a tease compared to what he begged for.
And beg he did. Reduced to a mess already, Arthur pleaded and begged, until finally Merlin pulled out his fingers and his pleas were replaced by a whimper. Empty—so empty, oh gods, he needed to be full, though.
“Turn over,” he registered Merlin’s voice commanding him, but didn’t move.
“Please,” he begged instead, “please, please, just—”
“Turn over first,” Merlin said again, voice somehow both softer and firmer at the same time. “Turn over and let me see your pretty face and I’ll do whatever you want.”
Arthur’s eyes widened at the prospect. Whatever he wanted. He started to turn himself over, only to be stopped by hands on his waist—one with slightly wet fingers. Merlin carefully helped him turn over, shifting him in the process so he laid on his back next to the mess he’d made rather than right on top of it.
Without any prompting, Arthur spread his legs and bent his knees again—a mimic of his original position. He stared up at Merlin with wide, lust blown, needy eyes. Breath coming heavy and ragged.
“Gods, you…oh, I wish you could see yourself right now,” Merlin breathed.
Quickly, he stood and stripped himself bare. Arthur’s eyes immediately locked onto his hard cock, which stood proud against his belly. A small whine pulled from his lips, and he spread his legs further.
Merlin situated himself between his legs, then hesitated. Arthur felt like his world was going to collapse. Was he changing his mind? No, no, he couldn’t! He needed him. Arthur was this close to pushing him down and riding him until he couldn’t speak. Merlin couldn’t change his mind now!
Arthur may die! [Later he would know that’s much too dramatic, but in the moment it truly felt accurate.]
He was just about to voice his very valid concerns when Merlin leaned down, stopping when their lips were only a hairsbreadth apart. Then, after a brief pause, he pressed their lips together firmly. Arthur gasped, his eyes widening before shutting as he moved his lips back against Merlin’s.
His lips were so soft and slightly wet and—Arthur squeaked slightly when Merlin’s tongue dipped into his mouth, sliding over his own tongue. Letting Arthur taste himself from Merlin’s mouth. Instead of being turned off by it, though, Arthur arched up into Merlin, gasping and winding his arms around Merlin’s neck.
Then, just when he thought he may go insane, Merlin reached back and gripped one of Arthur’s thighs, guiding him to hook his leg around Merlin’s waist. He did so tightly, pulling Merlin unbearably closer. The laugh that rumbled against his lips was almost taunting. Merlin pulled back, a wet, lewd noise echoing as their lips parted and Arthur chased after for more. A dazed look in his eyes.
“Ready?” Merlin asked, like Arthur hadn’t been begging him to fuck him already since he woke up. Arthur just tugged him closer with the leg around Merlin’s waist. “Yes, okay, I see that’s a—a yes.”
“If you don’t fuck me now, I’m going to—” Arthur cut himself off with a sharp breath as the blunt head of Merlin’s cock pressed against his slick hole.
He tightened his arms around Merlin’s neck, pulling his face down to press into his neck to make Merlin catch his scent. The moan that left Merlin’s lips as he nuzzled against the edge of his jaw where his neck began told him he’d succeeded in his plan.
“Now,” he ordered, losing his grip on Merlin so he could move if he wanted. Merlin just pressed his face further against Arthur’s skin, groaning. “Now, gods, inside—need you inside me.”
And finally, finally allowing Arthur a breath of relief, Merlin began to press into him. Slowly. Arthur moaned as the head of his cock breached him, too gone to register any burn the extra stretching brought with it. Merlin was gentle, though, so, so gentle. Gentler than anyone would be for just a quick fuck.
Arthur shifted his hips back, trying to push in Merlin faster, deeper. Merlin, blessedly, obliged. Thrusting into him in one clean, swift motion, to the hilt. Arthur’s nails dug into Merlin’s back. A breathless noise punched out of his lungs.
Merlin’s lips dragged across Arthur’s neck, sending shivers down his spine, as he stilled inside him. Letting Arthur get used to and savour the full feeling of Merlin’s cock buried deep in his ass.
And full he felt.
It was incredible. Gods, it was perfect. Arthur rocked back against Merlin as he nipped and licked at his neck, small moans and gasps and pants leaving his lips.
Finally, Merlin seemed to take a hint and start to rock his own hips, thrusting in slow but deep. Arthur arched his back off the blanket, senses overwhelmed by Merlin’s scent surrounding him—doubled by the wide selection of his things all around them—and his prick sliding in and out of him.
Harder. Faster. Deeper. More, more, more.
Then he brushed against that perfect spot and Arthur struggled to form coherent words, the sounds falling from his lips unintelligible babbling. His eyes rolled back, and his cock bounced with every thrust.
Merlin, who Arthur barely registered was making a good amount of noise himself, moved his mouth from Arthur’s throat to his shoulder as he shifted. Pulling out and pounding back in, brushing his prostate with every thrust. Overwhelming him in every way—but gods, he never wanted it to stop.
His nails scraped at Merlin’s shoulders and his heel dug into his back, pulling him closer and closer and closer.
Teeth scraped over his shoulder and Arthur whined, a shudder running down his spine all the way to his cock. It ached for real relief, flushed and still painfully hard against his belly despite already coming twice.
“Gonna knot you,” Merlin groaned against his skin, words slurred like he was drunk. And maybe he was in a way. On Arthur’s scent. On Arthur’s body. On Arthur.
The words set a fire in his belly burning, and he finally noticed something hard and large pressing against his rim with every thrust of Merlin’s hips. His head spun.
“Do it,” Arthur begged. “Merlin—Merlin, please, do it, need it, want it—”
Merlin cut him off with an abrupt, messy kiss to his lips. It was wet and sloppy and not at all arousing in anyway, but Arthur was too far gone to care, just thrilled to have Merlin’s mouth on his as he fucked him senseless in the nest he’d built filled with Merlin’s things.
It was like a dream come to life.
Arthur whimpered against his lips as Merlin’s knot pressed against his rim, not quite breaching but teasing it. Until finally, in one hard, rough, quick, thrust, Merlin pushed in all the way to the base—stretching Arthur out around his knot as he pressed it in until they were locked together.
The feeling was foreign but not unwanted. It was like every nerve was singing as Merlin’s knot stretched him wide. The want flooding his body finally, finally, easing.
Yet, still, it wasn’t over.
Merlin pulled away from this kiss and pressed his lips back to Arthur’s shoulder, moaning loudly as he came deep inside of Arthur, teeth scraping against his shoulder. Arthur’s legs quaked, the one still on the blanket finding its way to Merlin’s waist and wrapping tightly around with the other one—holding him close as possible as Merlin emptied his seed inside him. Knot holding them together.
Even as he came, Merlin continued rocking his hips—not pulling out, not really, but moving in small, infinitesimal thrusts. Then, when he finally slowed, a hand found its way down to Arthur’s oversensitive, weeping cock, wrapping around it and—
Arthur came for the third time since waking—his toes curled, back raising off the duvet, nails digging into Merlin’s shoulders so hard skin broke, whole body quivering intensely. The sound that left his lips as thin strings of come hit his chest was hoarse, more like a sob rather than a moan, and it was relieved.
Merlin finally came to a total halt and Arthur’s legs fell from around his waist back onto the blanket. His breath came in heavy, laboured pants, and his eyes struggled to stay open as he looked up at Merlin. Merlin, who looked just as exhausted as Arthur felt. And really, Arthur thought petulantly to himself, how was that fair?
Slowly, Merlin rolled them over—a task that was made very difficult by their locked position—so Arthur was laying atop him. Arthur cried out softly as the movement made Merlin’s cock brush against his prostate, overstimulated and oversensitive.
“Shh, shh,” Merlin hushed him lightly, letting his eyes flash golden to clean Arthur’s chest and the blanket beneath them. Arthur watched, enchanted by the magic of his eyes. “Relax. I got you.”
Arthur groaned and shifted slightly until he was comfortable, wincing at every shift of Merlin inside him until he stilled. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself as the heat finally began to ease. His body finally appeased now that it had gotten what it wanted. What it needed.
“I came inside you,” Merlin whispered, hands running up and down his back. Arthur glanced up at him through tired eyes to see him looking nervous, apologetic. “I didn’t ask, I just—”
“I like it.” Was all he said, cutting Merlin off, before he buried his face into the crook of Merlin’s neck and inhaled deeply. Breathed in his scent as Merlin stroked his back.
He didn’t even realise he was falling asleep until it was too late.
When Arthur woke again, it was empty and aching and blessedly cool, with a body pressed against his back. Arthur let out a sigh as his eyes fluttered open. The moment his eyes were open, recollection of what had happened earlier flooded his thoughts. A light flush rose to his face as he remembered how he had begged.
Merlin groaned and shifted behind him, and Arthur grimaced. His thighs were sticky, and his body ached—albeit differently than before. He would be feeling the consequences of their actions for some time… Unless Arthur could convince Merlin to work some magic on him.
Literally.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Merlin hummed, snaking an arm around Arthur’s waist and tugging him closer gently. “Good morning…”
Arthur blinked and glanced around until he spotted the window. A laugh bubbled up in his throat.
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“Same difference,” Merlin sighed, nuzzling the back of his neck lightly. “How do you feel?”
“Sore,” Arthur told him.
This time, it was Merlin who laughed.
He brushed his fingers over Arthur’s stomach before moving his hand to Arthur’s hip and pulling him closer. Back against his chest. “Appeased, though? Satisfied?”
Arthur hummed. A smirk pulled at his lips as he carefully turned himself around to lay on his other side, facing Merlin and pressing their foreheads together. He tried not to cringe when the movement only drew attention to the sticky, uncomfortable feeling of drying come and slick between his legs.
He needed a bath.
“For now,” he teased, voice quiet. Merlin’s eyes widened slightly, before flicking down to Arthur’s lips. His heart stuttered and he cleared his throat. “You know, Merlin…”
Merlin hummed inquisitively, eyes snapping back up to Arthur’s.
His thoughts were obviously elsewhere, not that Arthur minded. It made what he was going to say easier, to know Merlin was just as into him as he was into Merlin.
“I don’t want this to be just a one-time thing,” he said, trying to keep the words strong and unwavering. He cursed internally when they came out a touch nervous. “Or just a…just a heat thing.”
“What do you mean?” Merlin asked.
Arthur didn’t want to read into things, but his heart jumped at what sounded like a hopeful tone in Merlin’s words. He reached up and gently rested his hand on Merlin’s waist. His stomach flipped from nerves and his heart rate started to speed up.
“I mean, well, that,” Arthur paused. Took a deep breath.
And instead of continuing, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Merlin’s. It was brief, light, and barely a kiss, but it elicited a gasp nonetheless before Arthur pulled back. Merlin’s eyes were wide, and his lips were parted in surprise. “I love you, Merlin, and I’d like to make this…a more permanent arrangement.”
“Well,” Merlin breathed, “you move fast.”
“I’ve got over ten years to make up for,” Arthur snorted, averting his eyes.
There was a short pause before Merlin smiled.
“I think it goes without saying but, I love you, too,” he hummed before pressing a kiss to Arthur nose. “How about we start with courtship, first, though?”
Arthur paused. Thought about it. Then, flush on his face deepening in shade, he asked, “will you do that thing you did with your tongue again?”
“Anytime you want.” Merlin smirked and squeezed his hip.
“Okay,” Arthur agreed, “okay, I can handle courtship first, then.”
“Good…”
A comfortable silence fell over the pair. Moonlight poured into the room from the window and the candles burned dimly—running low. Arthur snuggled closer to Merlin quietly, glancing around from where he laid. The duvet beneath them was soft and Merlin’s scent was a lot more bearable now that his head was clearer.
It was also a bit rumpled—the blanket, that is—from their activities. The pillow border was a bit messed up, and Arthur wasn’t sure what happened to Merlin’s neckerchiefs, or their pillows. All in all, he felt content and satisfied and as much as he didn’t want to admit it…
Morgana had been right.
He should have talked to Merlin much sooner.
Then, he wouldn’t have had to sneak around to get the materials to make his nest. Then, he wouldn’t have had to avoid Merlin. Then, things would have been so much easier.
Arthur let out a sigh and let his gaze travel back to Merlin. Merlin, who was in his arms with his eyes closed, after fucking him through what was simultaneously the most intense and the easiest heat he’d ever had. Looking content and happy and at peace.
He had everything he wanted…
Arthur let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes, a smile pulling at his lips. He opened his eyes and looked at Merlin again, his smile widening when he found Merlin looking at him as well.
“Thank you,” he said after a moment of just quiet staring.
Merlin’s brows furrowed and he blinked, his face contorting in confusion. “For what?” he asked.
Arthur shrugged a shoulder. There was so much he’d done. So much Arthur needed to thank him for. So much… He leaned in and pressed another kiss to his lips. Firm and lingering, before slowly pulling away.
“For everything.”