Over the next few days, Arthur can't get the strange night out of his head. He'd gone into this whole tutoring thing hoping to get close to Merlin, spend time with him, but he'd never expected things to go this way. He doesn't know what to do with this turn of events. They're not dating. They're not even somewhat together. But Merlin had wanked him and Arthur wants nothing more than for it to happen again. He can think of little else.

His friends are starting to pick up on how distracted he is. Usually he'd share with them, but this, his big gay distraction, is really not something he wants to explain. Currently, they're sitting in Gwaine and Percy's little dorm apartment. Elyan and Leon are behind the controllers. Percy is grabbing a drink in the kitchen. Gwaine is staring at him. When Arthur looks at him, Gwaine just lifts an eyebrow. Arthur turns away.

Percy comes back and flops onto the couch, claiming next game. Arthur is too distracted to care if he plays at all today. Instead, he goes into the kitchen in search of his own drink. On the counter he finds a bottle of tequila. It's not his favorite liquor, but it'll do. He finds a shot glass in the cabinet and pours. Just as he's slinging it back, Gwaine saunters through the door. Arthur grimaces.

"What's the occasion?" Gwaine smirks.

"Nothing."

Like before, Gwaine raises an eyebrow. "Right. You're here taking shots by yourself because nothing's up. Out with it, Pendragon."

"I'm–"

"If you say fine, I'm going to punch you."

Arthur huffs, braces his hands on the counter. "I've been into somebody for a while, now. We've been spending some time together. Something happened, but I don't think it meant anything. So now I don't know what to do, if I should go back to hanging out with h–" im. Arthur cuts off mid-word, panicked Gwaine heard. "With them." He corrects.

Gwaine is probably the least judgmental person when it comes to bed partners, but Arthur isn't ready to share that yet. He really hopes his friend didn't notice the slip. Gwaine gives him a sleazy grin. Typical. "If something happened, enjoy it! You're overthinking this. Even if it doesn't end in a relationship or whatever, you got some good sex out of it. Maybe you'll get more."

"Right. Thanks."

"Arthur," Gwaine's tone is more serious. "If this person makes you happy, give it a chance. Maybe it'll go somewhere, maybe it won't. But if you don't ever go back, what was the point in the first place?"

Arthur nods, considering the words. "Drink?" He asks, tipping the bottle in his friend's direction.

"Hell yes."

When they next meet, Arthur does his best to meet Merlin's eyes and act like nothing happened. He does. It just doesn't work very well. He blushes when they greet each other and his eyes dart off like track runners at the gun. When they sit down, Arthur feels so out of sorts, he can't find his pencil when it's sitting right in front of him, and then fumbles at opening his laptop bag, almost pinching himself in the zipper.

Merlin acts completely normal and the longer they sit there, the easier it becomes. Arthur is able to settle his heart rate and actually focus for a while. If Merlin can be so cool about this, so can Arthur.

As the clock edges into later evening, the light in the hallway shuts with the outer office door, and Arthur feels himself tense. They're alone again. And now Arthur can't stop watching Merlin's fingers as he jots notes, the long slender digits so controlled and perfect. He swallows thickly, imagining them wrapped around him again. He twitches.

"–thur," he hears as if through a fog. "Arthur."

Arthur gives his head a little shake, turning his eyes to Merlin's. "Yeah."

The other man rolls his eyes, trailing his gaze from Arthur's red-tinted cheeks down to his lap. "You naughty boy," he says when he sees Arthur's erection.

Arthur flushes and ducks his head, wishing he could disappear. Why does he keep letting this happen?

Merlin leans closer and noses over Arthur's cheek. "You're so fucking hard, aren't you?" Arthur nods, hips lifting. "Need to come?"

"Yes," Arthur whines, the word drawn out.

"Yeah," Merlin breathes. And then his fingers are at Arthur's fly and his trousers are open. This time, Merlin tugs Arthur to his feet and lifts him onto the table, pushing him backwards. Arthur groans and humps the air, so turned on, it's crazy. He never imagined he would like someone man-handling him. He definitely didn't think Merlin was capable. But here they are.

On his back, Arthur keeps himself propped on his elbows, lifting his hips at Merlin's prompting, letting the other man drag his trousers and boxers over his hips. He is bare from the waist down, his shirt rucked up from where Merlin's hands had shoved it.

Merlin makes a sound like a growl and then his hand is wrapped around Arthur's cock once again. His grip is tight and hot, and as he pulls, Arthur arches up into the sensation, the friction almost too much. Merlin catches his eyes and holds them, both of them staring, searching the other as Merlin tugs, tugs, fuck.

Arthur's eyes roll back as he rubs fucking perfectly just under the head. Pre-come drips from his slit and Merlin thumbs over it, using it to slick the way. Then the friction is just right, a hot, wet twist on his length, pulling, jerking, squeezing and yes, fuck, Merlin is good at this. Arthur wants this forever. Not forever. He can't think like that. But as long as possible.

His hips fuck up into Merlin's grip and he tries to get his hand in there too, cup his balls at least, but Merlin just about snarls at him. "Don't you fucking dare."

And Arthur doesn't know why that affects him so much, but it does. His hips twitch, cock pulsing in Merlin's hand, and he feels himself stop breathing for half a second at the order. That shouldn't be so hot.

Arthur's eyes had fallen shut, but Merlin's fingers dig into his hip and their gazes catch again. This time, Merlin's is accompanied by a lazy, satisfied smile, seemingly pleased that he can control Arthur so thoroughly.

Heat pulls in Arthur's belly and then he's biting his lip, a curse in his throat as his hips lift, pumping up into Merlin's fist. Without breaking their gaze, Arthur whimpers and groans, balls drawing up and spilling hot, sticky, wet over the other man's fingers. Merlin growls a curse and pumps him through to the end, only letting go when Arthur gasps and tries to pull away.

Once again, Merlin holds his hand to Arthur's face and though he's sure his face is bright red, Arthur leans up and takes the fingers into his mouth. He sucks and laps at the digits until they're pristine.

When he's finished, he releases the fingers and Merlin stares at him for a long moment before dragging spit-slick fingers through Arthur's hair. He trails the fingers back down Arthur's neck, sides, down to where his trousers rest around his thighs. And then he's pulling Arthur up to stand and helping him re-dress.

Through his pants, Arthur can see the faint outline of his hard cock. Without really thinking, just knowing he wants, Arthur reaches for the front of Merlin's pants, going for the button.

But then Merlin's hands are there, stopping him. "Not now. We have work to do."

Arthur pulls his hands back like he was burned and goes about fixing his own clothes. Of course he shouldn't have done that. This isn't a relationship. Merlin hadn't invited the touch. Fuck.

Without looking back up, Arthur sinks into his seat and waits for Merlin to start talking. Instead, he sighs. "Arthur, look…"

"No, you look. You got your point across. We have stuff to get done so we can get back to our regular lives. I got it. Let's go."

"Arthur –"

"Lets. Go."

He hears Merlin sigh, a frustrated sound. "Fine," he says, and gets back into the paragraph they were originally supposed to be working on.

When they leave a little while later, Arthur doesn't even say goodbye, just gathers his materials and leaves, ego bruised and feeling overall hurt and rejected. He knows they aren't together. But he was just trying to reciprocate. Why did Merlin push him away like that?


AN: Ugh, the angst! It can't all be hot, sweet smut can it?