Unexpected
A Merlin One-Shot by ChronicLegCramp-Since'99
Pairing: Merdred
*Disclaimer: Merlin and all its characters do not belong to me*
Merlin knew he shouldn't follow.
The King and his knights were settled around the campfire, engaging in banter, while they regained a little of their energy with the help of the squirrel stew the warlock had put together. The druid had slipped away unnoticed by all except King Arthur's servant; the wintery sun was mid-setting, casting orange and pinks across the sky, which could just be seen in snippets through the tree branches and leaves.
"And where do you think you're going, Merlin?" the person in question halted, turning slightly to send his master a constructed carefree smile and a shrug.
"I've run out of water," he answered as he met Arthur's part-amused, part-annoyed expression.
"Oh really? Well in that case, I'm sure you won't mind doing the same for the rest of us, will you?" before the warlock could respond the King flung his water bottle at him and hit Merlin in the stomach. Soon more bottles were arcing through the air towards him; he brought his arms up in a weak gesture to protect himself.
"Of course, Sire," Merlin said, his mouth quirking up at the corners into his characteristic wry smile.
"Thanks, Merlin," Gawain winked, giving him a firm pat on the back as he bent to gather up the bottles.
"Just doing my job," the warlock murmured, straightening up with the bottles awkwardly cradled in his arms.
"That's the spirit, Merlin!" the King encouraged with a wide grin, eyes daring his servant to rebel. The warlock nodded once, rolling his eyes the moment his back was turned and starting through the forest towards the nearest stream.
Not long later, Merlin set down the last of the refilled water bottles. He stood and stretched his back and legs, which had grown stiff from the crouched position he'd held, not to mention his joints were sore from the days travelling. For a moment, he stood with his hands on his hips and staring into the distance; if he was quick, he could still check on the druid before returning to the camp…After a couple seconds deliberation, Merlin set off, following the stream and tuning into Mordred's magic. The druids colour was a pale gold- subtle with a gentle shimmer and brilliant precisely because it wasn't loud. It didn't smother you with its power the way Merlin knew his would. The stream as well as the druid's magic residue, lead the warlock to an opening, drinkable stream water meeting pure-looking lake water. And there, stood at the lakes edge was Mordred. His back was to the warlock and his face was tilted upwards towards the fast rising moon. Without thinking, Merlin leaped behind the closest tree, peering round it to see that the druid hadn't so much as twitched. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the warlock thought it was strange that the druid hadn't registered his presence, but right now he wasn't fazed by it. Mordred's feet were bare; his socks and boots were placed neatly a clear distance from the water. As if on cue, he began removing his armour, chainmail and cloak, letting them pile on the ground to the left, slightly behind him. Merlin watched with a detached sort of curiosity. He swallowed hard as his fingers dug into the bark of the tree. The druid had discarded of most of his clothes now, and the warlock was transfixed by the perfect lines and flawless skin of the druids back. He didn't know why he was surprised, if the boys face was anything to go by. Merlin's world-weary, piercing blue eyes ran down Mordred's spine as the latter stepped out of his remaining garment. The warlock sucked in a breath, closing his eyes and moving back out of view. He knew he shouldn't have followed the druid, but he did and now here he was; he couldn't un-see what he'd seen- something he knew only too well. Gradually, while attempting to delude himself that this was all just a dream or in his imagination, he peaked out from around the tree again. And sure enough, a fully naked Mordred was standing there before his very eyes. With graceful movements of his lithe body, the druid waded into the water, trailing his fingertips over the lakes surface as he went. He didn't stop until he was ribcage deep in it. Merlin watched unblinking, breathing through his mouth and trying to stub out the miss-placed excitement coursing through his veins. Night had truly fallen now, not that that hindered the warlock's sight at all.
'Why don't you join me, Emrys?'
Startled, the warlock flattened against the tree, even though it was now evident that Mordred had known he was there all along.
'Are we not kinsman?'
Merlin made an effort to calm his breathing and his heart, which was throwing itself against his chest.
'You are not so high and mighty now, are you? Emrys.'
'If you knew I was here then why didn't you say anything?' the warlock demanded finally, stepping out of his hiding place and staring pointedly to the right, away from the druid.
'I didn't want to hurt your pride,' the druid answered patiently; Merlin scoffed, but fire shot along his cheekbones. 'Since you're coming in, I was wondering if you could do my back for me…' Mordred's back was still to the warlock as he held up a wet cloth, which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
"I'm not joining you-" Merlin started hastily, putting a hand out as if invisible forces were readying to drag him to the druid.
'Then you are merely here to spy on me while I bathe? Is that it, Emrys?' the silky purr of the druid's voice drew the warlock's unwilling gaze back towards his snowy-white skin. Needless to say, the blush on Merlin's face reddened further.
"No- of course not! Why would I do that-?" Mordred looked at him for the first time then, over his shoulder. Deliberately, he held out the cloth towards the warlock, watching him avoid eye-contact, as he shuffled from foot to foot. "Alright, fine." Merlin exhaled through his nose, wanting nothing more than the druid's eyes off him. Stripping down to his briefs as quickly as possible, glancing behind him every so often to make sure no one else had ventured this far from the camp, Merlin entered the water. It was cold and sent a shiver through his slim frame, but it was bearable enough.
'Your undergarments will be soaked through…' Mordred commented, but went ignored. When Merlin reached the druid, he carefully took the proffered cloth, his unease heightening as their hands brushed. Hesitantly, he braced his left hand on the boys shoulder and paused.
"You're freezing…" the warlock stated, catching the shudder that shook the boy at the contact of his hand.
'And your hand is scorching. I will be alright.' Mordred's voice echoing within Merlin's mind was a soft murmur now, teasing the rim of his guard. The warlock didn't reply, simply swallowed against the thickening lump in his throat and went to work on the druids back, starting with his right shoulder blade. A long silence stretched out between them, before Mordred spoke again. He covered the warlock's hand that still rested on his shoulder, with his own.
'Stop,'
"But I'm not finished-" Merlin found himself saying, warily eyeing their hands and finding it hard to breathe.
'I'm not sure how much of your head I can take tonight.' The boy whispered and turned to look up at the older man, face to face.
"What do you mean?" the warlock asked quietly, trying to focus on masking his expression and not on the barely-there strip of air separating them. Mordred's face was as unreadable as usual and his crystal-clear, blue eyes trapped the warlocks effortlessly.
'You cannot stand me, can you Emrys?' his tone was mild, but the warlock couldn't help but notice the bone that jumped in his jaw.
"That's not it," Merlin told him in a milder voice. The druid gave him a measured look, but didn't push the issue. Instead, without any warning, he closed the gap and leaned up to touch his lips to the warlocks, almost frantically. Merlin froze in shock, his eyebrows shooting up, though his eyelids automatically fell shut. He could feel the boy's icy hands on the sides of his neck, stroking, caressing. His own warm hands found their way to the small of Mordred's back, as he slowly started to return the pressure of the boy's mouth. The warlock wasn't sure what was happening; one half of his brain knew that they were kissing, but the other half had a huge question mark printed on it as to why. The closer Mordred clung to him, the more confident and hungry and wild Merlin became- taking fistfuls of the druids brown locks in his hands and attacking his mouth with tongue and teeth. The more minutes flew by, the more disorientated the warlock grew, not knowing where the boy ended and he began. All that made sense was the sensations claiming his body and he knew that once they peaked, the confusion would threaten to drown him. When their connection broke, he would have to think about what he'd done. Mordred was making Merlin incapable of even beginning to form a coherent thought- which the warlock was both bewildered by and grateful for- by repeating his name over and over in his head, with varying degrees of volume and force. The druid started pushing against the warlock's chest, causing him to stumble backwards towards the shore. However, they didn't quite make it that far before the boy tore his lips from the older mans and his eyes flashed gold. Merlin felt the floor tip under his feet and grasped one of Mordred's hands before his back hit the floor, with the druid landing on top of him. The druid immediately shimmied down the warlock's body, sending jolts of desire through their veins and kneeled between his captive's thighs. Another flash of his eyes and Merlin's briefs were ripped off him and floating in tats in the shallow waters beside him.
"Mordred-!" the warlock cut off to release a deep groan, as a result of the boy taking almost the entirety of the older mans penis in his mouth. Merlin writhed, nails first scraping at the watery ground either side of him, and then moving to bite into the clear skin of Mordred's upper back. The druid was vigorously, pumping the manhood of his people's saviour with his mouth, making the warlock moan and thrust and want in a way he'd never experienced before. As the tension built higher and higher, Merlin was all but blind to the starry sky and crescent moon above them, until the familiar yet completely different, waves of pleasure rolled through him and his seed exploded into the druid's mouth.
'MORDRED...Mordred-Mordred-Mordred-Mordred-Mordred-Mordred…Mordred…Mordred…'
The boy made a path over Merlin's stomach with kisses, as he crawled back up and rolled onto his side, gazing down at the warlocks blissed-out face and unfocused eyes.
"You know, you're right- I can't stand you at all," Merlin managed to grin, breathless as the druid nuzzled the hollow beneath his ear.
'I will soon change that.'