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Merlin watched the prince as he slid easily into his chair at the feast.
He saw him lean closer than was necessary when he introduced himself to Lady Alice, saw him flash his most charming smile at her. And Arthur knew he saw, knew he was watching; Merlin could tell from the look of absolute innocence that he had on his face when the prince called him forward to arrange the napkin over his lap.
Merlin took the opportunity to let his hands linger longer than was strictly necessary, just to make sure that Arthur knew that he knew what was going on, to remind him who really wore the crown in their relationship.
And knew that Arthur understood him; knew from the way Arthur’s breath hitched as he exhaled into Merlin’s neck, even though he managed to smoothly continue his sentence.
And everything that night was a direct challenge to Merlin. Arthur kept winking at the nobles, brushing fingers and making unnecessary contact; he shot Merlin a heated look each time, and batted his eyelashes in that sinfully innocent way he had.
Finally, Uther called Merlin forwards to take Arthur to his chambers as he was embarrassing himself and the whole of Camelot. The Prince had be flailing around in what, if Merlin hadn’t know better, would have been the most appalling state of inebriation that he’d ever seen. But he did know better; he alone had watched Arthur pour his wine onto the stone floor, concealing the trick with a practiced hand.
The Prince had been groping Lady Alice so wildly that she had to switch places with Sir Ector. Not that that had stopped him, mind. Merlin already knew that Arthur had little protest against having men in his bed.
And it made him furious. He was well aware that Arthur was simply doing it to provoke him; that he was delighting in Merlin’s reaction. It had little effect on the seething jealousy coiled tight in his stomach. Jealousy and heated desire.
Merlin practically flung Arthur onto his bed, demanding he strip while Merlin lit some of the candles in the room, purposefully leaving the one beside Arthur’s bed unlit. Having finished, he finally turned to face the prince, who had a sinful smirk settled on his face.
“You look bothered Merlin, something wrong?” Merlin would never understand how Arthur could sound so collected in situations like this, even while his breath hitched as Merlin moved to nose at his neck, their cocks rubbing together. Although, the moan that elicited didn’t sound so totally composed.
“Arthur, you’re such a filthy little whore.” Merlin’s cock twitched as the words left his mouth, he loved to dominate Arthur, “Do you think that all of Camelot really wants to know what a slut you are?”
Arthur whimpered against his ear with this - not resorting to begging, not yet, and Merlin bit down on the smooth soft skin on his neck, teeth sharp and bruising.
“When they all see that mark tomorrow, what will you tell them?”
“M-Merlin, please…” Merlin knew how uncomfortable it made Arthur when his public and private worlds collided, and how much it turned both of them on.
“You’ll tell them I did it, sire. You’ll tell them all that you allow your servant to fuck you – that you beg for it, each and every night.”
Merlin had Arthur pinned down, wrists held against the bed, and thrust his hips, rubbing their cocks together, with each of those last three words.
Arthur arched his back to grind against him and suddenly the pressure of Merlin’s body, the lips at his neck, it was all gone.
Merlin was lying next to him, on his back, head turned to look at Arthur, quizzically.
“What is it you want me to do for you, sire?” The way Merlin twisted that… It made Arthur shiver and his response was choked and hurried.
“I-I want you to fuck me.” He blushed, shutting his eyes, never truly comfortable with the reality of their situation.
“No.” Merlin was beckoning him over with a crooked finger, delight sparkling in his eyes. “No, I won’t. You’re going to do something for me tonight.”
He manhandled Arthur into position, so that he was on all fours, above Merlin. His lips barely an inch away from Merlin’s crotch.
“Suck it”
Arthur was so startled by the demand that he let out a surprised gasp over Merlin’s hard cock, and enjoyed the way it twitched towards him.
“It wasn’t a request Arthur; do it. Now.” Merlin moved a hand to the prince’s head and guided him down, easing his cock past his lips and gasping as Arthur’s tongue brushed over the head, dipping into the slit as his lips rolled back the foreskin and he sucked softly.
He kept one hand on Arthur’s head, the other massaged the prince’s buttocks appreciatively. He moaned as Arthur’s mouth moved further down his cock and then again, as his breath against Arthur’s cock caused the prince to give a matching groan, vibrations running through Merlin like lightning.
He lifted his head and lapped his tongue against Arthur’s balls, slowly moving further back until his tongue was circling the prince’s arsehole. He pressed against it and then moved back, enjoying the moan of protest this provoked.
And then Arthur moaned again, and started sucking harder at Merlin’s cock, moving his head faster, as something started pressing inside him. He knew what it was instantly; the cool surface of the candle was unmistakable to him. He shut his eyes and whimpered; Merlin was trying to kill him.
Merlin was using one hand to move the candle torturously slowly, the other was twisted into Arthur’s hair, holding him in place as he thrust up into his mouth.
“Take it, Arthur…. Take it all…” Merlin wasn’t sure he was making sense anymore, Arthur’s tongue was driving him mad, he was now matching the slick slide of the candle with each of his thrusts into Arthur’s willing mouth.
“Fuck yes… Slut… w-whore… You… You..” Arthur wasn’t helping, he was moaning louder and sucking harder with each of the profanities that slipped from Merlin’s mouth, taking all he had to offer.
The words on Merlin’s lips when he came, as Arthur swallowed and sucked as if his life depended on it, weren’t threats or demands, they were soft and surprised, a whisper of “Oh… Arthur!”
And it was these words that pushed Arthur over the edge, pressing firmly back against the candle while he spilled onto Merlin’s chest and stomach, towards his own face.
And later, as Arthur pulled him into his arms and wiped them both clean, Merlin repeated himself, a sleepy utterance.
“Oh, Arthur.”