Author's Note: Well, well, well. It's been years since I've really written any fanfiction, let alone something to post here. Hopefully the quality of my writing has improved, hah. I actually started writing a different story for a different fandom, but after a while I got stuck, and the inspiration for this whacked me in the face - knocked it out in one night.
So here we go, a little Merthur goodness, dedicated to my best friend Michelle. Enjoy!
I am the King, and I shall have what I like.
The words continued to ring through Merlin's ears as his king ravaged him, mouth clamped in a tight embrace over the pulse of his throat, hands roaming where they pleased over his body. Merlin tried to keep quiet, but it was hard to quell the groans of pleasure as Arthur's tongue soothed the love bite. It wouldn't do to have a passing knight or page boy eavesdrop on whatever was occurring in the King's chamber.
Nothing could have planted the notion in Merlin's mind that he would be in this situation a year ago, a month ago, an hour ago. While his friendship with Arthur over the years had become an unbreakable bond between the pair, in no world could he imagine that Arthur had had this on his list of things to do once he ascended to the throne. It wasn't that Merlin considered himself an unwilling participant - on the contrary, he had entertained passing thoughts of what it would be like to share in Arthur's affections, adding yet another secret to his arsenal of Things That Could Get Me Killed If Arthur Found Out - it was sheer surprise that his forbidden desires were matched by the subject of his fantasies.
Having brought Arthur his supper, Merlin had made sure that everything was in order before he turned on his heel. But before he could so much as step toward the giant wooden doors, he heard Arthur bark an order.
"Merlin. Wait."
The wizard spun back around, cocking his head to the side inquisitively, and asked "What is it?"
In three long strides, Arthur had managed to plant himself directly in front of his servant. His stormy blue eyes held a twinkle of mischief and something unrecognizable as he said, "I'm hungry."
"Sire, I just brought you your meal. Is it not prepared to your satisfaction?" Merlin replied tiredly, his expression turning to one of confusion.
He couldn't deny the pang of fear that ran his blood cold as his king suddenly grabbed his shoulders and yanked him in for a hard kiss. It lasted for mere moments before Arthur pulled back and murmured, "I'm not hungry for food."
Merlin couldn't move. All he could see were flashes of being caught, kissed, imprisoned, touched, of blue eyes and blonde hair and a predatory grin. As the more pleasant images stuck in the forefront of his mind, he felt his blood warm up again, almost too warm.
And that was when Arthur had uttered those eleven magical words.
The fear disappeared instantaneously. There was no reason to worry. Not with Arthur - not with his king. He held the final say in any and all matters pertaining to Camelot and the people held within, and Merlin knew that no matter what happened, Arthur would not let anything bad happen to him or them.
And that was how Merlin found himself allowing his body to be used as a substitute for Arthur's supper. He stood still at first, nervous that any extra movement on his part would startle the man before him to his more reasonable senses, but as Arthur reached his arms around Merlin to grab his bottom and pull their bodies flush against one another, Merlin threw caution to the wind. His own hands snaked their way around Arthur's neck and he buried his nose in the other's locks. Arthur, quite done feasting at the expanse of Merlin's neck, began trailing wet, sloppy kisses up his throat and jawline, finally joining their lips together again in a much more tender version of their initial kiss.
Time seemed to slow down as they basked in the embrace. Breaths held, bodies tense, they lost themselves in the moment, wrapped up entirely in the presence of one another. Merlin could feel Arthur's heartbeat through his tunic, and he was sure his own could be heard from across the large bedroom with how wildly it beat against his chest.
Arthur broke the kiss. His breath felt hot against Merlin's face, coming in short puffs as though he'd just demonstrated a mock sword fight for his knights. He looked his servant straight in the eye as he said, "Is this... alright with you, Merlin?" His tone was firm, but conveyed genuine concern, and Merlin savored the rarity of it. Even if Arthur were king, he still honored a code and would not ignore the importance of gallantry.
Glancing down, Merlin sucked in a breath and slowly replied, "Nothing would be more alright with me, sire."
Taking that as all the permission he needed, Arthur claimed Merlin's mouth once more. He slowly guided the entangled pair back to his giant bed, pushing Merlin down as they hit the mattress, climbing up to straddle the wizard's hips. Their hands pawed frantically at each other as their swollen lips met again and again, eagerly drinking in the other. Merlin managed to slip his hands under Arthur's tunic and he marveled at the smoothness, fingernails raking gently over the man's chest and down his sides. He felt Arthur sit up and before he knew it, Merlin's red scarf and coat were scattered somewhere on the stone floor, his own tunic bunched up high.
Merlin felt as though he were simultaneously within and without his own body. It all seemed like a dream from which he couldn't bear the thought of waking. He felt Arthur's warm tongue and deft lips follow a lazy path down his exposed torso and he shivered as the moist trail left behind hit the cool air. Nervousness set in again as Arthur began unlacing his trousers, the evidence of Merlin's arousal right underneath, but Merlin bit his lip and realized there was no point - if his king didn't want this, he wouldn't be taking it.
And then Merlin gasped loudly and fisted the sheets in his hands as Arthur took him whole, and it was as if the whole world had turned inside out. Nothing surrounded them and everything focused in on the gift that Arthur was bestowing upon him, his servant, his friend, his lover. His hips bucked with a mind of their own, never wishing the warm sheath of Arthur's mouth to stray far. The quietest of moans from his king sent ripples of pleasure all through Merlin's body and he tossed his head deep into the bedding, practically growling with desire. Arthur gripped his bony hips firmly, keeping his charge in check as he feasted. Staring up at the canopy unseeing, Merlin felt a tightening below and before he knew it he saw stars and nebulae and distant galaxies never before seen by man or beast as he spent himself for his king, realizing that the cries of ecstasy echoing through the room were spilling from his own throat.
Still reeling, Merlin felt Arthur collapse beside him, their legs dangling together over the bed's edge. A strong hand intertwined with his own. After a few moments of silence pierced only by their ragged breaths, Merlin turned to peer at the man beside him. Arthur's cheeks were beet red and his hair was even more tousled than usual. He stared back, eyes that matched his own shining.
Licking his lips innocently, Arthur said, "I'm sure I don't have to tell you that no one must know about this."
And Merlin laughed, knowing it was true, but also knowing that the smile forming over Arthur's face was an expression of love, of secrets shared, and a promise for the future.