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His dreams were usually ordinary. Nonsense put together by a tired mind, consisting of bits and pieces of conversations he had or heard, places he’d been through but built like a maze. All unremarkable and forgotten by the time he had his armor on.
Some nights, however, Mordred would have the other kind of dream. Not nightmares, the potions he took before bed when feeling anxious dealt with that, but the ones that had him breathing heavily and his trousers going tight.
Blue eyes visited him then, shining bright because there wasn’t any darkness like in his room but candles all around them or maybe the warm sunlight, the moon in a perfect, cloudless night.
They tore him apart like the hands touching all over his body. And Mordred sighed in delight, called the same name again and again at the feeling of a warm body against his and a wet mouth sucking on his neck, marking him, chuckling in his ear in a deep voice.
Though he woke up with a wetness spreading on his lap, Mordred took himself in hand all the same, eyes shut tight to better chase the dream. It wasn’t the same, finding release by himself in a lazy morning.
So, when he was graced with another one, he tried his best to stay asleep and enjoy it to the very end. In the dream, there was only warmth. Trailing up his chest in a soft tease, like tendrils circling his arms to keep him still, to make him surrender to the feeling.
And he did gladly. Though his hips twitched, Mordred felt the tendrils around his legs too, crawling up to the inside of his thighs as they kept him spread open but unmoving. They were so soft against his skin, stroking him in a soothing manner.
A tender caress that left him aching. Wanting to reach over and feel the gentle tendrils sliding between his fingers as if belonging to another hand, willing to hold his while he fell apart in the most pleasant way.
But it was right under his stomach where it felt the warmest. Warm and tight and wet, surrounding his hard cock in a merciless grip. Mordred could feel himself pulse, cock so needy, felt himself drool more pre cum that only joined the wetness.
He’d had plenty of those dreams before but none of them felt like that.
None of them felt as real as this one. None of them had him shaking, desperately trying to hold on to sleep as he moaned brokenly and tried to push his cock a bit deeper into the thing swallowing him whole with ease.
It took his entire length, warmth reaching him to the root, traced the straining veins with another tendril, a softer one, wetter, before latching on to the tip of his cock and sucking so hard it made him whimper like a hurt animal.
Mordred never wanted it to stop. With every time he whined that same name like every other pathetic night alone, the easier it was to pretend the warlock was really there between his shaky, spread legs.
The only place Merlin showed him care was in his dreams, after all. When he took Mordred in his arms and kissed him breathless, took him with gentle rolls of his hips, giving Mordred his affection without a trace of the indifference he carried during the day.
It didn’t matter that it wasn’t real because it felt real. It had Mordred’s breath stuttering, his mind thick with a pleasant fog and an even more pleasant pressure all around his cock that made his toes curl in warning.
He was so close, could feel it by the tightness of his stomach.
Then he looked down before he’d even realized his eyes were open. A bright blue stared back at him, Merlin’s mouth stretched wide around his cock, big hands gripping his trembling thighs, hair ruffled and sticking up.
Mordred threw his head back with a cry as he came, entire body shaking violently.
It was over, was all Mordred could think about, the dream was over and he would wake up to an empty bed, alone, with the warmth from Merlin’s touch lingering in the air.
He gasped, knuckles turning white from how tight he was gripping the bed sheets. Only when a low hum reached his ears did Mordred let his gaze wander down from the dark ceiling.
Merlin was still there, eyes closed, hollowing his cheeks while breathing fast through his nose. Still licking all around his cum covered cock that twitched every few seconds, happy with all the attention it was receiving, still rubbing his hipbones with little circles of his thumbs.
And Mordred waited for him to vanish, be replaced by an emptiness the call of the morning birds brought along. He shuddered with each wet lick that cleaned him and watched as Merlin’s eyes flickered open again, flying to met his.
The mere sight of the warlock’s lips red and swollen was enough to have him groaning. A blue shine covered him, the other side of his face hidden by darkness, and the usual paleness of his skin almost made him look like a phantom.
An otherworldly being, letting go of Mordred’s cock with a huff of breath.
“You came so fast from my mouth alone.” he rasped out, voice hoarse “Do you not touch yourself frequently? The chastity vow doesn’t really mean anything, least of all complete celibacy.”
His hand stayed wrapped loosely around Mordred, working in absentminded stokes that wouldn’t let his cock soften. Spit coated his plump lips and made them glisten, not as bright as his eyes but just as inviting, asking to be parted again and for something thick to fill his empty mouth.
Mordred was ready to do just that, eyes almost fluttering shut, when he realized his legs were bare despite remembering going to sleep with trousers on. A quick glance to the side and he found them on the floor next to the crumpled blanket.
He blinked the sleep away. Merlin was still there.
He got up on his elbows, a frown to his face, and tried to close his legs. They were trapped by two arms. Because Merlin was between them, over them, growing increasingly impatient the longer Mordred took to reply and simply stared down at him, gawking.
The real Merlin, that is. Heavy and warm before him, escaping from his dreams to get into his bed instead.
“Merlin?” he asked in disbelief, voice soft and quiet as to not chase away the person he couldn’t yet be sure wasn’t a vision.
But, when the warlock huffed a chuckle, Mordred felt his chest moving over his legs. That felt real too. And the deep voice talking to him in the dead of night had him shivering.
“Sorry to disappoint. Were you expecting someone else?”
“No, that’s not what I-”
The rest of his sentence seemed to get lost in the air. He completely forgot what he was saying but it didn’t matter because Merlin was lifting his shirt up to his chest to press wet lips to his lower stomach.
Mordred took a big gulp of air that filled his lungs and Merlin’s fingers were tracing his ribs, that big hand, calloused and rough from work but not once unkind in its touch, caressing his side, making him arch his back wordlessly.
A palm pressed his cock firmly to his belly, leaving it to drool over the thin trail of hair there. He wanted to move his hips, find out what the slide of his cock against Merlin’s hand like that would be like, but the warlock kept moving up.
Slowly, Merlin crawled up his body all the while kissing the softness of his stomach.
“You said my name before. Did you know it was me?” he asked Mordred in a mumble, lifting his eyes to catch the shake of his head “Then why did you call me?”
Because Mordred was used to doing that. Plagued with dreams where the same insufferable, perfect man would return night after night, all he could do was surrender and allow himself to moan his name.
How could he say that to Merlin, how could Mordred begin to explain waking up with dry sheets was a rarity. By the look in the warlock’s eyes, he didn’t have to.
There was something there, behind the dark blue. A frightening knowing.
Moving up again, without breaking his stare once, Merlin nuzzled at the center of his chest where, inside, Mordred’s heart beat dangerously fast. Then he turned his face and those wet lips were on Mordred’s nipple.
His arms gave out without a word of warning. Merlin followed, going up and down with the heaving of his chest, kissing his nipple and swiping his tongue over it so softly, making Mordred gasp and squirm in place, pinned down by the weight of his body.
He gripped the pillow under his head tight enough to rip it in half. What he really wanted was to sink his fingers in Merlin’s hair, grab two fistfuls of that ridiculous thing, always looking soft to the touch.
“Were you thinking of me, Mordred? Dreaming about having my lips wrapped tight around your cock?”
With each word, the lips brushed another part of his chest.
Merlin spoke directly against his skin and his words found Mordred’s bones. The deep, melodic tone of his voice, sounding so intimate in the darkness of the room, clung to him with no intention of letting go soon.
“You were making the most pathetic noises, moaning my name so shamelessly.”
“Merlin.” the druid whined with an embarrassed stutter, whole body shaking, and Merlin’s eyes crinkled at the corners when sending him an approving smile.
“Yes, exactly like that.”
Then he slid down, leaving Mordred, already quite confused from the entire situation, to hastily pull his legs apart where Merlin made room for himself.
Blue eyes watched him through thick lashes, that smiling mouth brushing the sensitive skin of the inside of his thighs as Merlin placed kisses there. And Mordred stared dazedly back at him, chin resting on his chest, trying to will his legs to stop shaking.
Merlin kissed his knee, trailed a path to his thigh and nibbled gently on the skin, ignoring Mordred’s gasp to simply hold his legs open. To press his palm flat on Mordred’s cock so he was leaking all over his stomach.
The druid moaned again, his ears burning. His entire face felt on fire, the back of his neck, every bit of skin showing his embarrassment and stunned eagerness.
From between his legs, Merlin made a little sound. Mordred’s cock twitched at that.
He gave in, hips thrusting up, cock sliding wetly against the warlock’s hand. Due to Merlin’s spit, his mind reminded him and Mordred threw his head back with another choked off groan. Legs trapped, his hips kept twitching.
“You look just adorable right now.” Merlin said in a teasing tone he felt travel up his spine “Helpless little thing.”
“Please-”
The hand closed in a fist around his cock. It was easier like that, to simply let his eyes fall shut and fuck into a tight grip. Gasp and thrust up, knowing his cock was disappearing again and again behind Merlin’s long fingers.
Gentle like the tendrils curling all around him in his dream. Those had been Merlin’s fingers, his hands running up his stomach and chest, soothing and encouraging him like now, as he chased after a second orgasm with a slack jaw.
“Do you want me to stop?”
The sound to leave Mordred came close to a pained whimper. It made him too aware of the redness of his face, as did the chuckle Merlin pressed to his naked thigh.
“I’ll take that as a no, then. It’s better now that you’re awake anyway.”
And Merlin was taking his cock inside his mouth again. Despite being used to the strokes of a hand by now, the sudden warmth from Merlin’s throat, swallowing around him, made him cry out in surprise.
Completely awake, that was different. Looking down to see Merlin’s eyes heavy and locking with his, those lips red and stretched, sucking him off like it wasn’t for Mordred’s pleasure alone.
No, that sight was better than his dreams. The hand gripping his hip and the other circling the root of his cock both seemed to melt the skin right off his bones, as did the warlock’s unrelenting stare.
All Mordred could do was cling to the pillow under his head and allow the embarrassing, garbled noises to spill out of his mouth. He couldn’t contain them, it felt too good.
Merlin bobbed his head up and down steadily, lightly sucking just the way it made Mordred’s toes curl. As if he knew that already, like he knew how to kiss Mordred’s nipples soft enough to be a tickle and drive the druid out of his mind.
Though there were no bruises on his skin, Mordred felt marked, carved by Merlin’s lips. From the inside of his thighs, tingling from kisses, to his stomach, now tensing as he moaned, and up his heaving chest.
Saliva dripped down his cock but Merlin didn’t seem to mind. It made a mess of his pubic hair, his groin, brought him a shameful pleasure as he fell apart at Merlin’s hands.
His blue eyes bright as they caught the moon light, Merlin almost seemed to smile with a mouthful of cock. Mordred, his legs trembling uncontrollably, framing the warlock as the most obscene picture, chased his lips with a weak thrust when Merlin pulled away.
Before the druid could muster the strength to complain, he was back, covering Mordred’s cock in maddening licks, dragging a hot tongue over his length only to place his lips on the tip and suck, hard like he’d done when Mordred was just waking up.
Much like then, Mordred cried out for the man between his legs who grinned as something similar to mischief shone in his eyes.
The one who’d listened him mumble and moan that same name even in sleep, haunted by a touch that now felt like too much and not enough at the same time. That had his feet sliding on the sheets, restless, trying to squeeze Merlin with his legs.
“Is this part sensitive?” asked Merlin, tongue running just below the head of his cock, insistent when Mordred’s reply came out an incoherent moan “Tell me, Mordred.”
“Yes.” he managed to gasp out.
“Good.”
“Merlin!” his head went back, the strangled moan hitting the ceiling.
It was more than sensitive. Mordred tried to warn Merlin even though he was quite sure the warlock wouldn’t think of that as a complaint, but words were hard when wave after wave of sharp pleasure hit him.
His hands moved from the pillow to his own hair, pulling at the curls hard enough to hurt. Surprisingly, it didn’t. Not with his entire body so focused on the things Merlin did to his cock, the wonderful tightness of his lips and the heat of his mouth.
Mordred felt close to cumming again despite having spilled just moments ago.
“Merlin, please.” he whimpered as Merlin’s tongue swiped below the head of his cock in a horrible tease and he knew just how needy he sounded, how broken his voice was as he leaked against the warlock’s swollen lips “Please, you’ll make me cum!”
At Merlin’s mercy, his body couldn’t decide between moving away or pushing back into it, leaving Mordred to simply squirm in place.
To his disappointment, Merlin let go. Pulled away so suddenly that Mordred startled, looking down at himself just in time to watch his cock twitch and, untouched, spurt a load of cum all over his belly.
Back arching, legs bent and with an awful empty space between them where Merlin had been before, draped over his body with a busy mouth, the druid panted and chocked on his own spit.
His cock was red, incredibly hard, slapping his belly while he fucked the air, hips moving as if he could still push past Merlin’s lips. Cum ran down his length, adding to the mess now pooled at his lower stomach and groin.
“Look at you.”
The warlock’s voice, like Merlin himself, could not have been harder to figure out. Low, almost playful. And his eyes were wide when Mordred glanced up, two flashes of blue going from his exposed body to the flush on his cheeks and ears, the threat of overwhelmed tears.
“Still so hard, so needy.” Merlin continued and wrapped his hand around Mordred’s sensitive cock, what got him a groan of reply. He smiled down at the druid “And so easy to tease.”
The bony fingers spread the cum over his cock with the same loose strokes from before. In Merlin’s hands, Mordred couldn’t help but respond. Couldn’t keep himself from whimpering and fidgeting, the sheets wrinkled under his body.
A nice fog surrounded him, warmth and softness all around, a heavy weight pulling his thoughts back to his body to see Merlin leaning on top of him once again.
His shirt had a stain from Mordred’s cum but the druid couldn’t be bothered to feel ashamed when Merlin was rubbing his spent on his belly. Draped over him like that, with his cheek pressed to Mordred’s naked chest and their legs tangled together, Merlin didn’t seem to mind either.
In fact, he looked far too comfortable. Quiet and loose limbed, following Mordred’s breathing.
“What are you doing in my room?” Mordred asked in a murmur.
Merlin blinked up at him, the shift of his face against Mordred’s chest sending a shiver down the druid’s spine. Blue eyes stared at him for a second, not a sliver of transparency in them to ease Mordred’s mind.
Then he let out a giggle. Something deep, silly, so incredibly endearing like everything about him. Mordred felt his heart squeezing.
“Oh, just visiting.”
The warlock’s hand traveled up his hipbone to his ribs in a gentle touch. But Mordred’s attention was on the face close to his, closer than ever, on the faint flush on sharp cheeks and the dazedness of that stare. As the realization came to him, Mordred frowned.
“You’re drunk.”
“Arthur had me stay until late. Went on and on about my unfair treatment of his favorite knight.”
“Am I- am I Arthur’s favorite-”
“Wouldn’t shut up about you, the clotpole. Ordered me to sit down, made me listen to him gushing praises about his little pet druid.” he twisted his face into a disgruntled expression “The only way to turn the night bearable was to get as wasted as Arthur.”
Now that Mordred knew, the bittersweet smell of wine reached him with each of Merlin’s breaths. He suddenly wanted his blanket back, had the urge to cover himself from head to toe.
Except it was lying on the floor and his limbs were frozen still by the intensity of that blue stare. Sizing him up, looking past the flimsy barrier Mordred put up, the wall ready to collapse from a well aimed blow.
And Merlin was good at catching those openings.
Though he lacked experience with a sword, his words alone could do the work for him. In the quietness of Mordred’s poorly lit room, breaking him down with tender touches and a skillful mouth, Merlin landed the merciful strike.
Voice low and soft, rumbling against his chest, so close that Mordred could taste it, could get drunk on, as intoxicating as the wine he hadn’t had a sip of, the warlock asked him with such genuine curiosity that made him look almost vulnerable.
“Am I that awful to you?”
“You’re not awful.” Mordred whispered back. The corners of Merlin’s lips tugged up in not quite a smile.
“See, Arthur warned me you wouldn’t tell me the truth.”
He slid up a bit more until they were face to face. Arms folded on the druid’s chest and his chin resting on top of them, Merlin shifted so their bodies were pressed together.
“Said you look up to me, wouldn’t risk a confrontation. That you’re surrounded by pretty dames and it’s on me that your eyes always land. That you seem besotted and it pains him to see you so disappointed when I don’t pay attention to you.”
“Merlin…” he started but trailed off, unsure of where he was going. Of what to say or even if there was any point in denying by now.
“You’re not as discreet as you think you are. I noticed too, would have to be blind not to.” Merlin huffed “These eyes of yours following me around.”
Like his heart, Mordred had no control over them. They found Merlin whenever they were near each other, a habit he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried, how many times he chastised himself for acting like a lovesick boy.
They stayed wide open and unblinking now. Growing bigger as the warlock reached over to hold his chin with his fingertips. Delicately, sweetly, they moved up, Merlin’s palm cradling his face, his thumb running over his cheek.
“This pretty face telling everything you think so clearly, Mordred.”
Under his stare, Mordred heated in embarrassment at being seen. The sudden compliment intensified the blush, his cheeks getting hotter the longer Merlin caressed them with care, frowning slightly at the flushed wreck that was Mordred.
Completely open but not just from being naked and aroused, body and feelings exposed. That sharp burning in his eyes was back.
It was too much. Having Merlin there, so close, so warm, his eyes looking at Mordred only yet without giving back, unwilling to let a single hint of what went through his head. Being touched and handled tenderly after convincing himself he couldn’t have that.
“God, I can feel you too, you know? Even now, your magic is clinging to mine. It’s horrible, the sadness and hope and want. The fucking longing.”
“Merlin, please-” he tried to move but couldn’t, his own body betrayed him, turning into rubber at Merlin’s touch.
“Who gave you permission to simply barge in here?” the warlock raised his voice though his hand stayed soft. Mordred broke all the same.
“I’m sorry.”
The tears ran freely down his face. His crying was quiet, Mordred had learned how to silence himself early on, to take in a big gulp of air and hold it as his cheeks got wet and his vision blurred.
Merlin faltered, the frown fell. That seemed to catch him by surprise, as if he hadn’t expected Mordred to sob mutely at a handful of words.
“No, don’t cry. I don’t-”
He fumbled trying to wipe at the tears. Like that, eyes skipping from place to place, he looked like the old Merlin. Clumsy in his attempt to comfort, fingers flying to clean the mess of tears and tuck away some wild curls from Mordred’s face.
“You’re an annoying brat but I can’t bring myself to hate you, Mordred.”
“Then why act like you do? Why push me away when all I want is…” the words died in his throat along with his sobs but the corners of his eyes were still wet.
Before him, leaning over his face, Merlin fell silent. But his hands kept moving, stroking and soothing. Running through his hair, cradling his cheek. They breathed together with their chests pressed flush.
Despite everything, it felt safe there. Underneath Merlin’s body, like they were lovers sharing a night.
“Arthur said I should give you a chance, to let you prove that you’re worthy of your place.” left Merlin in a tentative whisper “Do you want a chance, Mordred?”
“Please.” he choked out, hand flying up to hold Merlin’s wrist in a tight grip, to prevent the warlock from pulling away again and leaving him alone.
“Want to prove yourself?” a nod of response “Tell me you want it.”
“I do.”
“Say it, Mordred.”
“I want anything you’re willing to give me, anything at all.”
Be it scraps or a plate full.
Mordred knew just how pathetic he was and hated himself for it but could he really be blamed. The things he most wished for, craved, longed for since he stepped foot in the castle being handed to him. Of course he would reach for them without a second though.
“Anything, I’ll take it.” the druid continued, desperation covering each word “I want it, Merlin, I want you.”
Those blue eyes got closer, a bit wider. He could feel Merlin’s breath hitting his face, his parted lips, the warlock towering over him until the light from the window wasn’t blanketing Mordred anymore.
There was only Merlin then. His stare and whispers and hands everywhere at once.
“Tell me.”
“I want you so much. Please, let me have you, please. Please-”
Merlin’s lips were a bit chapped. They pressed softly against Mordred’s motionless ones, the hands that cradled his face tilting him to the side so their mouths slid together.
Pulling back for a second to come back again. And again and again, slow drags of lips against lips, of cold fingers against flushed skin. Somewhere in between, Mordred let his eyes fall shut. Allowed his hands to loosen the death grip they had on the sheets.
They shook on their way up, carrying his uncertainty, and while resting lightly on Merlin’s waist. As the kiss grew a little insistent, they squeezed in return, an arm wrapping around Merlin and the other hand trailing up his spine.
A tongue licked his mouth open to what Mordred offered no resistance. On the contrary, he responded for the first time. Lips wet from the warlock’s spit, Mordred held on to his neck to meet his kisses, slide their tongues in stuttered moves.
He raised his head trying to get more but Merlin kept him pressed to the bed, their bodies shifting without breaking the kiss. Then fingers were tangling in his hair and Mordred was gasping inside Merlin’s mouth, arching his back to find a leg between his thighs.
His cock, just as hard as when he woke up earlier, throbbed at the friction.
Kissing Merlin was like breathing, like being alive. Mordred could taste the wine in his mouth but he got drunk on Merlin’s sounds, the tiny groans he let slip once in a while, deep and rumbling, the noises Mordred wished were calls of his name.
Merlin’s seemed to be all he could remember. A sort of urgent mantra he repeated in his head, to assure himself that was happening, that it wasn’t another one of his dreams.
He was rutting against the knee pressing over his groin, cock wet and sticky, probably leaving a patch of pre cum on Merlin’s trousers. His hips moved desperately like the mouth against his, breaking him down with heated kisses.
He needed to cum again. Felt so close, with Merlin’s taste sharp on his tongue.
When Merlin pulled away, he followed, chased after those swollen lips with a needy whine of protest. His head went back at the quick tug to his curls. From above him, blue eyes watched every twitch of his body.
Wild, sparkling despite being half hidden by darkness. They came close to falling shut the moment Mordred cradled the warlock’s face between his hands, fluttering before focusing on him. Merlin’s cheeks were warm as if he was blushing the same as Mordred.
“Why do you taste so sweet?” Merlin asked, their noses brushing playfully when he ducked his head down.
Mordred found no strength to reply. He pulled Merlin closer, using the grip on his waist to trap them together, and buried his fingers in raven hair. The strands moved easily between his fingers. It felt even nicer than Mordred had imagined.
Like that, they could rut against each other. Their hips aligned, Mordred’s cock rubbed against an unmistakable hardness hidden under Merlin’s trousers. The bulge of a hard cock, he realized, of Merlin’s cock, pressing down on his.
The simple though sent a bolt of pleasure up his spine and he moved faster, humped the warlock with clear intention, unbothered by how desperate he looked because Merlin was moving along with him.
Because Merlin was panting, his lips parted and eyes trained on him, as if ready to devour him whole. And Mordred wanted nothing more than to be taken apart.
So, with nothing to lose, he closed the distance to press their mouths together again. Merlin melted on top of him as soon as their lips met. Let out a little noise and held Mordred in his arms, the druid’s soon wrapping around his neck to keep him right there.
By the time they broke the kiss, Mordred felt his legs trembling. Through it all, he kept his hold on Merlin’s hair, only tightening it when Merlin kissed a path from his jaw to his neck.
He arched his back then, a wet mouth sliding over his throat, and Merlin thrust down against his cock so hard that he couldn’t breathe. He was leaking so much pre cum that the fabric of Merlin’s trousers was clinging to his cock, completely soaked.
“Do you want attention, my little brat?” came the hoarse whisper, spoken directly against the skin of his neck, making Mordred tremble all over.
“Want yours.”
“Do you know what I want?” Merlin licked a stripe up his jaw with a throaty chuckle “What your almighty Emrys is so eager to do?”
A hand slid between their bodies to stop right on top of his lower stomach. It pressed down on the naked skin covered in drying cum, the heel digging into his belly.
“I want to feel you right here, Mordred.”
Instead of wrapping around his cock, it stayed there, the tip of rough fingers barely brushing his length. Merlin had moved up, breathing into his ear, that deep voice of his enough to leave Mordred’s chest aching.
It was like something trying to claw its way out, useless in its attempts but covering his insides with painful scratches. Each word to leave Merlin’s mouth was another scratch.
Making him hurt and long. Making Mordred flush, his cock pulse and his body beg for more, anything, for the warlock to keep going and never stop. For him to keep thrusting and thrusting and whispering in his ear in that sweet, horrible voice.
“I want to slide down this cute little cock of yours and feel you buried deep inside me. Have you crying while I fuck myself on you, sobbing like the helpless, needy thing that you are, Mordred, until you’re begging me to stop.”
Blunt nails digging into Merlin’s back, Mordred came all over himself. It seemed to go on forever, his limbs locked as he shook, choked off noises falling from his mouth.
“Sorry!” he gasped out “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t hold it.”
And Merlin panted in the crook of his neck, hidden there. Held him tight for a bit longer while Mordred got his breathing back under control.
His hand, the one to touch the druid’s belly, came up covered in cum when he shifted away. The same as his shirt, his trousers, wet and dirty and useless at disguising the shape of his hard cock, the same as Mordred’s whole stomach and chest.
To Mordred’s mortification, Merlin held his cum covered fingers before their faces. The deep blush to spread over his cheeks only widened the warlock’s teasing smile.
“Look at the mess you’re turning yourself into. Do you usually cum this much?”
“It’s all your fault, I can’t- can’t seem to stop.”
True to his words, still restlessly rubbing against Merlin was his half hard cock. He wanted to see those long fingers disappear inside Merlin’s mouth as he licked them clean. Wanted to slip his own hand inside Merlin’s trousers and feel the weight of him.
“I’m making you cum, Mordred?”
“You know you are.” the druid mumbled back in embarrassment, needy hands pulling Merlin closer and closer so he wouldn’t have to look into his eyes since they would be the death of him “Please, just kiss me again.”
“Maybe I enjoy torturing you.”
“If you wish me to beg, I’ll do just that.”
But Merlin was muffling a laugh against his lips. In a second, the warlock was straddling him and pulling his head back by his curls so he could keep up with the messy kisses that had drool running down the sides of his mouth.
The back he found under that old loose shirt was muscular like the arms pinning him down. Merlin was surprisingly strong, from his hard stares to the merciless grinds of his arse on Mordred’s lap. Mordred couldn’t get enough of him.
He moaned and kissed back, pulled at swollen, bitten lips and fell a bit more when receiving a whine of response. A shiver when he held on tight to bony hips and thrust up to drag his cock against Merlin’s trousers.
Softly, so sweetly, Merlin nosed at his cheek after they parted. Pressed a tiny kiss to the heated skin.
“You made me so hard.” he said in a quiet voice in the safety of Mordred’s sweaty neck, as if Mordred had failed to notice the way he rutted against his stomach “You make me lose my mind.”
“Let me take you in my mouth. Let me taste your cock, please, I want to feel it in mouth.”
It all left him in a rush. Embarrassment turned his face a deeper shade of red.
Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Merlin undressing. The clear view of bare arms, wide shoulders, a skin so pale that glowed blue in the night. A skin that would bruise so easily, that would look lovely marked with the shape of Mordred’s teeth.
When Merlin tugged down at the waist of his trousers, Mordred held his breath. By the time the trousers were discarded and the warlock was crawling up his chest, his head was spinning.
He had to look up to catch that blue stare. Legs by each side of his face, Merlin took his cock in hand, hard and red at the tip, mouthwatering, but he didn’t shove it down Mordred’s throat.
Just as gentle as before, his fingers brushed some curls away from the druid’s face. They caressed down his cheek and stopped at his lips, parting them slowly to make way. Dipping inside to press against his tongue and make him whimper.
A wordless plea quickly understood. Mordred held Merlin’s stare when the cock slid inside his mouth and couldn’t help but be proud at the way the warlock gasped.
It would be so easy for him to hold Mordred by his hair and fuck into his throat, pay no mind to the gagging, simply chasing his own pleasure. It would be easier for Mordred as well, to explain it to himself in the morning.
But the hand tangled in his curls was soft like the one shakily caressing his cheek. The slow, short thrusts of hips were careful, the thighs straining at each move. Worst of all, Merlin wouldn’t stop looking at him.
Mordred wanted to hide but couldn’t, the warlock straddling his chest wouldn’t allow him to. He desperately wanted to be seen.
So Mordred made little noises, sucked and dragged his tongue up and down with Merlin’s thrusts, enjoyed the taste and the weight of him, the tender touches, the burning feeling inside his chest as Merlin twitched and his eyes went a bit heavier, needier.
“Can you take me deeper?”
He tried to nod before giving up and just humming. Merlin sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and shifted until he had more than half of his cock buried inside Mordred’s mouth. The druid swallowed around him, some drool running down his throat.
Whining, he stared up at Merlin with a frown, his face red, fingers flying up to grip Merlin’s thighs. Merlin moaned then. A muffled thing, deep enough to reach his bones and wrap around his ribs. Mordred wondered what he saw, if it pleased him.
“So adorable.” mumbled the warlock, wiping at the saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth. Mordred whined again, his hips went up on their own to fuck the air, and Merlin’s cock twitched against his tongue “God, Mordred.”
With slow rolls of his hips, the warlock fucked steadily into his mouth. That haziness from sleep returned at each thrust. Every edge softened, every sound intensified, their heavy breathing and gasps and moans.
Mordred’s mouth felt so full. His hands traveled up and up, grabbing strong legs, stroking soft skin, playing with a trail of hair leading up Merlin’s chest. He could touch him, Mordred thought to himself, was allowed to watch his own hands tremble on his arms.
The warmth curling around his fingers when Merlin brought them to his mouth and wrapped his lips around them was heaven. The warlock sucked on them like he’d sucked his cock, thoroughly and messily.
Fucked his own mouth while fucking Mordred’s with his hard cock.
Then he guided the fingers down, covered in saliva, to press between his arse cheeks. For a second, Mordred faltered. But Merlin held his stare with an urgency that seemed to match his. Like he needed that as much Mordred, like he needed Mordred.
The druid rubbed at his entrance until the spit dried. Then he got his fingers wet with his own pre cum and pushed them inside. Giving himself fast strokes and gathering the wetness at the tip, the slick dripping down his cock, to carefully push into Merlin.
And Merlin towered over him like a powerful being. Not a sorcerer but an obscene wreck straddling his chest and feeding Mordred his cock in frantic grinds of his hips, fucking himself back while holding himself up with both hands gripping the pillow under Mordred’s head.
Twisting and pushing and being completely helpless to the man above him, Mordred felt close to cumming again, his cock slapping against his belly as he uselessly fucked the air.
Merlin’s insides opened more with each crook of his fingers. He pretended to fuck into him instead, to be enveloped by a tight heat clenching down on his cock. His hand went faster, getting him a startled groan of response. Merlin’s cock coated his tongue in pre cum.
“Mordred-” the warlock called with a hitched breath before pulling out of his mouth “Not yet.”
“But I want it.” even though his voice was ruined, Mordred protested when Merlin moved away from him and his fingers, chuckling shakily but with a real smile to his lips.
“You’re such a brat.”
The taste of him fresh in his mouth, Mordred could be anything Merlin wished him to be. Anything to keep their kisses like that, a hunger in those eyes that looked at him like he was precious and they weren’t sure of what to do.
To have his throat kissed with the threat of teeth that never broke skin. Cling with such neediness to strong shoulder and any other part he could reach.
“My little brat, aren’t you?” came the breathy whisper from the flushed face above his “Say it, Mordred, tell me what you are.”
“I’m yours.” he whispered back.
A hand closed at the root of his cock, his hips bucked up. A palm resting on top of his chest, so warm that Mordred felt it could go right past his skin and bones to take hold of his heart, Merlin slowly sunk down the length of his cock.
“Emrys.” his eyes flickered down from Merlin’s bright eyes for a second to see himself disappearing inside the warlock and Merlin’s cock twitching, throbbing as it spurted cum over his belly “Are you- you’re- fuck!”
Mordred gripped tight to his waist without thinking about how it would push Merlin down. The warlock slumped forward against his chest, mouth wide open as he stuttered a string of moans out. He had Mordred’s whole cock inside him now, clenching hard on it.
An overwhelming feeling. Under him, Mordred squirmed and gasped, feet scrambling on the bed while his hips ground against Merlin’s arse in tiny thrusts.
“Don’t cum, not yet.” the warlock rasped out, meeting him every time, cock still drooling and pulsing.
“Merlin, please!” no matter how embarrassing, Mordred couldn’t help but whine “I won’t last. I’m close, Merlin, I won’t last long.”
“I’ve told you not to cum yet.”
But he was lifting himself on unstable legs to drop on the druid’s cock, ripping desperate moans out of him. He dragged his hands up and down Mordred’s sweaty chest as if he enjoyed the feel of it, the wild beats of his heart, and didn’t look away once.
“Please- you’ll make me cum if you don’t stop- Merlin, I can’t!” Mordred hurried to lace their fingers together “I can’t, I’m sorry! I’ll cum-”
Merlin’s tongue slid inside his mouth, muffling any noise that wasn’t the mortifying slaps of their skins. The druid hugged him tight, afraid to let go to even breathe, and let himself surrender.
Cum pooled at his groin, ran down his thighs, rubbed against his stomach the more Merlin’s cock jumped with the frantic thrusts. They panted into each other’s mouths, sharing air and spit, their hands grabbing hips and curls and fingers.
Mordred couldn’t seem to stop kissing back. Those plump, bitten lips had his stinging yet crying for more. The burning of tears went over his head that time and he only realized them as they rolled down his cheeks.
The salty taste of them so different from Merlin’s.
“You poor thing.” Merlin cooed sweetly.
Right against his mouth, with that deep, affected voice of his. He cleaned the tears while chasing after the taste of his own cock on Mordred’s tongue or maybe just pleased with the way the druid whimpered, barely able to think as his cock was squeezed so much.
“Merlin.” Mordred breathed him in and breathed his name out with a sigh “It feels so good inside you.”
“Was this what you were dreaming about? Before you woke up, were you dreaming about taking me? About fucking me in your bed?”
“Can’t remember, I only know it was you. I always dream of you.” there was no need for it to stay a secret anymore so he confessed knowing too well the lovesick expression showed clearly on his face “Want you all the time, Merlin, you’ve no idea.”
“Oh, I have some.” the warlock said with a little smile that melted him completely.
“Please, let me keep you.”
He got no answer. What Mordred did get was that same softness in Merlin’s eyes, carving him open from the inside out. So different from his sculpted cheeks and sharp tongue.
They looked gentle when falling over Mordred for the first time.
At the threat of another set of tears, he pulled Merlin down. The warlock went without a complaint, simply rolling his hips as much as he could, warm and tight and delicious. Hid in the crook of Mordred’s neck where he went back to leaving open mouthed kisses.
“You can.” Mordred encouraged him with a hand buried in his hair when feeling the hesitant drag of teeth.
“It’ll leave a mark.”
“I don’t care, you can- can do whatever you like.”
“Quite the offer.” Merlin mumbled and sunk his teeth into his neck.
Come morning, there would be bruises all over his skin. People wouldn’t recognize the shape of those teeth, buried deep in his flesh, but Mordred would. He would know them because he’d memorized the feel of them against his tongue.
Because he adored the purple spots slowly forming the longer Merlin sucked and dragged his tongue over them to soothe the bite, and wanted to scratch at his own throat just to make them sting even more.
Merlin rode him through it all, fast and clumsy. Squeezed his cock with every stuttered thrust Mordred managed to meet, delighted at the slick feeling he got from fucking his cum back inside.
The druid gripped his hips tight enough to leave the mark of his fingers there. A pleasant thought, that Merlin would find signs of his touch on his body too.
Mordred almost sobbed when the kisses stopped. Instead, a groan of protest left him, sounding weak to his own ears. Holding himself up, hands sprawled on his chest, Merlin looked at Mordred though his lashes as a smile parted his lips.
“Now my mouth has claimed every inch of you.” rumbled the warlock above him and Mordred gasped at the meaning of his words, the layer of possessiveness he desperately wanted to see more of.
“Emrys, please.”
“Was this what you wanted? Is that enough of my attention?” Merlin laughed at the shake of head of reply “Greedy boy. I’ll give you more then, Mordred. Can you take more?”
“Yes, please!”
The cold air hitting him the instant Merlin pulled him out was too sudden. His poor cock, burning hot, dripped needily.
He scrambled up at the simple jerk of the warlock’s chin, scooted back until he hit the wall. Then Merlin was sinking back, arms around his neck so their chests were glued together, legs trembling on the way down.
All Mordred could do was hold to him and fall apart. Moan and gasp and whine, call for him while clinging to his sweaty back, hide his face on his neck, press his cheeks to his chest and let his eyes slip shut.
Merlin was right there, keeping him close. With steady rolls of his hips, fucking himself back on him while leaving his own cock to pulse between their stomachs, Merlin kept the druid curled against him.
“Merlin…”
“What is it?” the press of lips to his hair encouraged him to continue.
“Merlin, I’m going to cum again.” he whined brokenly, feeling too much like a spoiled child “Can I? Can I cum inside you again, please?”
A low hum and he was spending inside Merlin, the air leaving his lungs to be replaced with the earthly smell of the warlock’s skin. Merlin took everything, unbothered by how the cum dripped from him after sliding the druid’s cock out.
“You’ve made such a mess. What a desperate little thing you are.” the warlock cooed without a hint of mocking in his voice “Are you my desperate boy?”
“Yes, Emrys.”
Instead of malice, there was only sweetness in his voice, so thick it dripped out of his tongue.
Mordred wrapped a hand around his cock and pulled him closer with the other. Merlin went, looking dazed, a disheveled thing that the druid adored so much. That combed his curls back and stared at him slack jawed, shaking on his lap.
“Teach me how to please you.” the druid asked in a whisper.
So Merlin did. Laced their fingers and, together, moved them up and down in awkward strokes. It wasn’t that different from sucking him off but, like that, Mordred’s mouth was free.
Their kisses were more gasps than tongues, neither caring about anything other than their closeness. Mordred ignored the discomfort from being pressed against the cold wall and the cramping of his hand as he did to the dried tears on the corner of his eyes.
What mattered was right before him, on his bed, on his lap.
“Faster, Mordred.” Merlin urged “Faster- like that. Keep going, Mordred, keep-”
What mattered was Merlin resting their foreheads together. How his face contorted, red from exhaustion, and still looked so handsome. The way his eyes sparkled, fought to stay open as he batted Mordred away and took his cock in hand.
“Your mouth or your face?”
“My face.” he replied immediately.
“Want me to turn you into a mess?” panted Merlin with a laugh, biting off a groan when Mordred nodded eagerly “Yeah? Want your pretty face stained with my cum?”
“Please?”
“You’re so sweet.”
The praise covered him in warmth as Merlin covered him in cum. From his cheeks to his throat, it dripped down his chin. The warlock held tight to his shoulder and stroked himself hard and fast, his mouth open in a deep moan.
Stared into his eyes, whole body trembling, and fell against his chest like his limbs were suddenly made of rubber.
“What a filthy boy you are, Mordred.” an embarrassed whimper of response and he laughed again, breathless, a lazy smile on his face “Yes, such a filthy, needy boy.”
“Need you.”
“Oh, I know.” resting on the druid’s chest, his hand moved down to play with the oversensitive cock between Mordred’s legs, still hard, unwilling to soften when he had Merlin nosing at his jaw.
“Merlin, I don’t think I can- it’s too much, it feels-” Mordred stuttered, trying to squirm away, but Merlin shushed him.
“I’ll take care of you.”
And he was so soft, not only his voice rumbling deep inside Mordred’s chest but his hands and the sweaty skin of his neck. Gentle, pressed almost on top of the druid after letting himself be moved around, Mordred desperately clinging to him.
“Let me, my sweet thing.” he said with warmth in each word “I’ll take care of you, Mordred.”
How could Mordred refuse him when he acted like that. Mordred feared he would never be able to deny Merlin, no matter what was asked of him.
He felt tender all over, skin pulled tight over his bones, a dull pain under his ribs where his heart wouldn’t stop missing beats. He felt like he could die like that, his eyes full of tears and the warlock in his arms. Their bodies melted together, forgetting where one ended and the other began.
Filled to the brim with love and affection, the attention running through his bloodstream like alcohol, Mordred felt about to burst. It left him in tears running down his face, weak spurts of cum covering Merlin’s fingers, in waves of magic trying to find the warlock.
Then there was only silence. Except for their heavy breathing, the night, or what was left of it, remained quiet. Some solitary birds sang outside as the moon crawled away.
Merlin stayed folded against his chest, forehead on his shoulder. To Mordred’s disappointment, it took him less than a minute to pull away. His shirt hastily folded in his hand, he cleaned them as best as he could without meeting the druid’s eyes.
That hurt like a slap to the face. Watching him get dressed, Mordred reached for the blanket on the floor to cover himself with, safely hidden with his knees to his chest.
“Will you stay the night?”
It left him in a whisper, almost fearful. He couldn’t help but be hesitant of the answer yet couldn’t stop himself from hoping. Merlin had been so good, after all. He’d kissed Mordred like he was all that mattered and that wasn’t something he could forget.
“It’s almost morning.” the warlock replied but made no move to leave.
He fidgeted where he sat on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on the floor, his hands tangled together over his lap. Mordred wanted to reach for them and lace their fingers.
“You’re in no condition to walk back.”
“That’s not the only reason you’re asking me to stay.”
“No, it isn’t.” he agreed easily “You know of my feelings for you. Won’t you let me prove myself worthy of your company as well?”
Those blue eyes flew up to him, stripping him bare with the intensity of their stare. And Mordred let himself be seen. Stared back, lingered on the lovely man in his bed and every little thing that made his chest ache.
From the ridiculous ears to the mouth that, before that night, had never smiled at him.
“Merlin, I can’t go back to standing your indifference. Not after what you’ve given me.”
“And what was that?” asked Merlin with a tremble in his voice.
“A taste of what is like to be adored by you.”
He saw Merlin’s knuckles turn white, his jaw clench and his eyebrows almost knit together. Then his chest went down as he let out a breath. Merlin kicked his shoes away and crawled towards him.
“I don’t think I can go back, either.”
Mordred found out they fit perfectly in his bed, side by side.
Their noses touching and legs locked together, they held each other close enough they wouldn’t come near the edges. Though the blanket covered them both from shoulders to feet, the warmth from Merlin’s body was better.
They had a few hours until morning to spend like that. Maybe, the druid thought, they could spend the next night like that too. And the next and the next. Holding each other and never looking away. Staring deep into blue eyes and unable to hold in a giddy smile.
The corners of Merlin’s lips tugged up, his breath came out in a strange puff of air. He could feel it too, the mess inside Mordred’s chest, how lucky he felt. Could feel his happiness and love.
Merlin kissed him all the same. A sweet, brief thing. Chaste, just closed lips pressing against lips. Mordred’s heart seemed ready to jump out of his mouth.
“I still think you’re a brat.” was whispered to him.
He giggled, cheeks red, and hid his face on Merlin’s chest.