Title: Kings, Queens, and Whatever's in Between
Genre: modern!AU, pwp, humour
Warning: Un-betaed, crack-ish or coming close to it, implied sexual acts
Morgana LeFay Pendragon was the best. She aimed to be the top of her industry despite the laughter she had first encountered by pompous, greased men—literally and figuratively. Fast track three years later and Morgana is laughing in her own office furnished with leather chairs and expensive cherry wood. She is the proud owner of her own company that started out as a magazine label, and had later branched out to videos and 'accessories.' The head-hanchos' of the porn industry had rue the day they laughed at her.
That said her success may have partially involved her step-brother. What started out as a way to pay the bills became a full-fledge career for Arthur. Albeit short, at the rate she's seen 'models' pass by the camera lens. Yet the camera loved Arthur and his fans love him even more, so he was guaranteed an extended career. She hoped Arthur was the type of man to grow more handsome with the coming of age, because his image was her biggest profit and she'd like to hold off throwing the good-bye celebration for quite some time.
The sun warmed her through the window as she laid out the two versions of the magazines latest issue, the third anniversary edition. One version would be out on the store shelves, and the other would be received by their monthly subscribers. Morgana compared the thickness of both versions with acute eyes. The subscriber's magazine contained bonus pictures of each model's sessions and was verging to read as a book, except with pictures. She snorted, 'a very, very dirty picture book.'
"They were going to make millions and billions," her marketing department forecasted. The photographers were spouting the same thing but they were a bias opinion when it came to their own work.
Morgana picked up the store edition, flipping to the table of contents and looked at each title. She vaguely recalled approving each of these titles and the initial pitches of themes for the photo sessions—usually she wouldn't be this involved with the magazine, but the third anniversary edition dictated a special touch, specifically the founder's touch. Some of the bigger names (re: models and photographers) were allowed input into what they want, while the newer additions didn't get that privilege. It was her show to run.
She giggled and outright laughed at a few of the titles, 'Cloud Nine Inches,' being one of her favourites. There were the usual classics: men in uniforms, the boss and secretary scenario, and naughty schoolboys—some things simply don't get old. Then there were more inventive set-ups: space stations, a Tarzan parody, cowboys, vampires, painters and models, and more parodies of classical folktale nicely stripped of their Disney innocence. She still professed that Nala was giving sexy eyes to Simba—either this industry has completely corrupted her, or there are things that have flew over her head when she was a child. She liked to believe it's a mixture of both. (And if those lewd eyes weren't in this magazine at least once Morgana has some phoning to do.)
It was pitched to revise the King Arthur shoot for Arthur, which was taken during the initial peak of his career. The solo pictures in the throne room had been immensely popular, following a series of more photos of 'King Arthur' in the medieval bedchambers, hunting in the forest, fighting shirtless, and an orgy in the banquet hall. The last set was another special involving the current and past models from their own pool of delectable bodies, and from other companies. So it was fitting that this shoot should be special as well.
Morgana flipped through the first few pages of the regular version. She noted the prose to the side of the pictures, which gave a small narrative to every photo. The Tarzan and John shoot even held a story very loosely based on the original fiction. Admittedly, the prose were a gamble to see if their consumers would like it, in hopes of making their magazine stand out more to their flocks of porn readers. She thought it was a nice addition that gave a little something extra.
She's half-way through before she switched to the subscriber's version, the store-version is a bit too clean for her taste. Not to say that the magazine wasn't explicit, yet the subscriber's version for this edition was just a whole lot more. It seemed Arthur's photo shoot had set a par for all the other ones-or so the photographer, Gwaine, had bragged. She flipped to the very end of the magazine to see. Morgana shook her head; leave it to Merlin to shatter the norm.
Morgana had only met Merlin twice. The first time was at a dinner party thrown by Arthur to show off his boyfriend, much to everyone's surprise, because her step-brother definitely topped the list of relationship commitment felonies, if such a thing existed. Before Merlin she didn't think there could be anyone with less inhibition than Arthur; leave it to Arthur to find the one person with less inhibition than him. She had hoped by now that Arthur was able to teach Merlin a thing or two about proper conversations-also known as (skewed as that line may be), 'what sister's don't want to know about their brother's and vice versa.' Though as a positive endnote: by the end of the dinner, she at least had an idea of how her sex toys and accessories products were faring in the market and what needed improvement.
The second time she met Merlin was outside of the studio, she was walking out after seeing to Gwaine's and Arthur's satisfaction, and Merlin was walking in to watch all the action. Of course Morgana received the report later of how Merlin ended up partaking in the action, but she could trust the photographer, and marketing, and Arthur, and blah-blah-blah. She wouldn't have hinted at Arthur to invite Merlin to the photo shoot if she didn't think isomething/iwould come out of it. Even Arthur would get a bonus out of her scheming, because Merlin was going to extend and heighten his career while making her copious amounts of money. They were going to be a package deal. She's sure someone in marketing was already putting together a portfolio. They'll pitch it to her, she'll pretend that 'ino, she never thought of that/i' and everyone will be happy.
Morgana's smile grew wider as she flipped through each new picture. Everyone had really put their top performances for this anniversary edition and it'll only mean she'll have to top it with next year's edition. The gloss paper flung to the side with a flick of her nail and the next image is Arthur staring out from the page, lounging in wooden chair, wearing rich red and black clothing, the crown askew on his head looking regal, yet relaxed. The table is laden with food as Arthur's fingers pressed into the meat, as though he's ripping a small chunk from the roasted bird.
The next page had a shirtless Arthur holding a sword in a battle stance, adoring male civilians off to the side. Morgana can see Merlin as one of the men in the crowd. There's small text to the side regaling about the great King Arthur and his amazing sword. Morgana snorted at the badly written pun. She goes through more pages, finding more single shots of Arthur in kingly or knightly duties, without a shirt or in form-fitting attire. She became bored with the pictures. Morgana already knew Arthur could perform so there's nothing to look over. It's Merlin's featurette she needed to see.
The table that started the series of Arthur's photos strangely ends his on the next page. If someone were to take the magazine apart, the two page spread would be revealed. Across from Arthur, the fireplace spilled out soft light onto Merlin, whom is lounging against the stone wall near the fire, a half-eaten fruit held in his hand. Merlin was originally supposed to be one of the background models to fill the page, male subjects awing over Arthur's physique. Yet as a stand-alone piece if the magazine was kept intact, this page held an obvious focus upon Merlin. It showed him off exceptionally well. If Merlin and Arthur's pictures were connected they'd be flirtatiously looking at each other from across the page.
Initially she didn't understand why Arthur became attached. While a camera did wonders to accentuate Merlin's features, he wasn't drop-dead gorgeous by industry standards, even if they fit nicely together, more so than physical means. Yet with a simple flip of the page Morgana needed to calm her libido. The editor had organized these photos with an aim to kill and a monetary bonus is in much needed order. They weren't going for slow tantalization, as Merlin lay in the shallow waters of a lake with his feet stretched out to deep water wearing nothing. His legs were spread apart as he bends his head back to look out from the page pleadingly and flirtatiously. The succession of photos are taken at the same lake with the exception of the last, as Merlin's head was tilted to the side and a hand pulled down the neckerchief, exposing the hickey on his neck.
A turn of the page revealed it was Arthur's hand. Merlin's back was pressed to Arthur's chest as they kiss. Morgana would have thought that the pose was staged if it wasn't for the small smile exposed to the camera. It's possible that this moment between them caught Gwaine's attention. The report didn't exactly go into detail. She excitingly flipped to the next page expecting brilliance and shameless porn.
Arthur sat on a throne with Merlin between his legs. Both of them were naked with the exception of the red cape over Arthur's shoulders, flowing to the floor. Arthur's head was thrown back in ecstasy. Only thing she could see of Merlin was his back and the individual knobs of his spine as his head is bent forward and down, Arthur's hand at the back of his head. He was on his knees, arse to the ground as a small trail of cum slide to the stone floors. Morgana smiled knowingly to herself. While it could have been the make-up artist's work, she doesn't exclude the possibility of Merlin and Arthur's exhibition streak. Gwaine must have had the time of his life. There were more photos of the throne, Merlin in Arthur's lap, the cape strategically covering them. Arthur's tongue on Merlin's neck, as the thin, strong body placed his back to Arthur's chest. The cape was pulled taut over his crotch so the outline of Merlin's arousal was clearly visible.
There was more at the lake. Arthur held Merlin's wrist to the ground, submerged in the water, attacking his lips like any animal would devour its feast. They looked like they were starving for it.
The climax was at the bed. The sheets, pillows, even the wooden frames of the bed were a variety of red: deep maroon, and lustful black cherry. Merlin stood out with his pale skin, and Arthur dominated him. Either pressed him down on his front, or in the next page, hand clamped around Merlin's mouth and fingers pressed behind. The imagination supplied the answers. These sets of pictures didn't hide anything. The showed their rigid and full erections. Arthur's touches and Merlin's scratches weren't kept hidden. Morgana continued to flip, stopping before the actual penetration. She got the idea. Merlin's unfiltered mouth gave her more than the image could convey.
Morgana wasn't disappointed. This was going to make her filthy rich.