Work Text:
Merlin felt like every skeevy photographer cliche in that moment, standing in his client’s bedroom and trying—and failing—not to look at him like a starving man looks at food.
He was a fashion photographer, but he had done the odd boudoir shoot early in his career to make ends meet while he established himself. He had been able to remain professional in those instances—not least of all because a majority of the people wanting to do boudoir photos were middle-aged women doing it as anniversary gifts for their husbands in order to try and rekindle interest in their relationships and Merlin was very gay—but something about this broad-shouldered, square-jawed, golden-blond god of a man with his arms crossed defensively across his chest was going to break him. He was going to pop an enormous boner in his skinny jeans, and it was going to be apparent enough that his client was going to notice and ask him to leave. Merlin tried to subtly adjust himself so any boner-popping would be hidden behind the zipper and give him at least a little plausible deniability about weird zippers laying weird ways and that’s definitely not an erection sir I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Now, Merlin didn’t actually need the business, he was a highly-sought-after photographer in his own right and had been for a few years. He was doing this as a favour for a friend of a friend, so it wasn’t the leaving that was the issue. The issue was from the moment he clapped eyes on him, he wanted to spend more time with Arthur Pendragon, not less. He hadn’t realised when he had set the appointment with him over the phone what he was getting into, but as Merlin set up his camera tripod and softboxes at the foot of Arthur’s massive, luxurious-looking bed he snuck hungry looks over at the uncomfortable-seeming but impeccably dressed man.
“You seem as though you’re being forced into this,” he joked to break the heavy silence as he set the height of one of the softboxes, turning it on to check where the light would fall.
“No, it was my idea,” Arthur said, and the timbre of his voice, the smooth depth of it made Merlin’s mouth go dry with a thirst he hadn’t felt in a long time. He had spoken to Arthur over the phone a couple of times, but the tinny recreation of it over mobile was nothing to what it was like in person. He thought he’d gotten over such lust-at-first-sight incidences when he left his early twenties behind, but something about Arthur made him feel young and inexperienced and oh-so-giddy again. “Well, it wasn’t my idea, exactly, it was Gwen’s. But she made it sound like a good idea.”
“Oh, is Gwen your wife? You’re getting these photos done for her?” Merlin asked, not sure if he was hoping for an affirmative or negative. If yes, he could better force himself to focus on the job at hand instead of making eyes at the subject like a lovesick teenager. If no…well keeping his hope of being able to fuck a hot man alive for a while longer was something his brain was invested in, futile as it generally was considering Merlin spent much of his time around ridiculously-attractive models who knew they were attractive and made a living off being attractive. Merlin wanted to say he’d fucked a model before, but he had always felt a little slimy coming on to someone that was just there to do their job, and any model that would take him up on it Merlin couldn’t help but feel was more interested in furthering their career than anything else. So thus far he’d been all look and zero touch.
“No, she’s just a friend,” Arthur said, seeming to curl even more in on himself. “I’m single. Just…felt like this is something I should do is all.”
“Alright,” Merlin said, not wanting to pry into something that was clearly uncomfortable for him. He patted the tripod of the softbox he had finished with, and turned to face Arthur fully. “So you’ve clearly never done one of these—”
“So what if I haven’t?” Arthur said, a stubborn, defensive set to his jaw. Merlin held up a hand.
“I wasn’t trying to insult you. Most people haven’t done this before and that’s totally fine.” He offered Arthur a conciliatory smile. “I simply had a few questions before we got started. Like music.”
“Music?”
“Some people find music gets them in the right mood. I haven’t done this sort of shoot in a while, so I don’t have my old playlist,” Merlin said, thinking out loud and pulling his mobile out of his pocket to bring up his music player app. “I do have a playlist I use for sex though, which is sort of the same.” He glanced at Arthur, finding him gaping at him and blushed. “That’s probably a weird thing to offer. Forget I said anything.”
Merlin cleared his throat and pocketed his mobile awkwardly before he turned back to his softbox and camera tripod to make unnecessary adjustments and let the moment pass. “So when we spoke on the phone, I mentioned that you should pick out something you feel..." he waved his hand around, trying to illustrate his point in the most abstract way, "...attractive in, and that I would be bringing some things of my own for you to look through just for something fun to try out.”
Arthur nodded stiffly. “I remember.”
Merlin smiled again. “Great. So what are we working with today? Your bed’s great, by the way. You don’t see too many four-posters like this, and they’re always very striking in photos.” He very pointedly did not think of laying Arthur down on said bed as he turned to the second bag he’d hauled into Arthur’s flat, the one not filled with photography equipment, and opened it to reveal his treasure trove of designer lingerie he’d got from different photoshoots he’d been in charge of.
“I’m...I don’t much know what I should wear,” Arthur said, the constipated, uncomfortable look replacing the stubbornness. “It’s just, I…”
“Hey it’s okay,” Merlin said. “If you like I can go through your wardrobe with you, see if there’s anything that strikes me as appropriate?” He tried to give Arthur his best innocent face, as if going through the wardrobe of this highly attractive man wasn’t going to fuel his fantasies for months. Merlin had always had a thing for a well-dressed man, it’s why he had chosen the profession he had.
Arthur shrugged one shoulder, gesturing toward his wardrobe with his chin. “There isn’t much to choose from. Button-downs to go with my suits, a few T-shirts, jeans.”
“A nice dressing gown?” Merlin asked, and Arthur shook his head.
“I’ve always lived alone, there was never a need.”
“That’s fine. You’re a handsome businessman, you’d look fetching in your button-down and a tie draped over your shoulders.” Merlin looked over Arthur’s suit, a navy three-piece number with a barely-there pinstripe. He wore a slate blue button-down underneath that brought out the intense blue of his eyes, with a striking red silk tie to contrast. It wasn’t far off of what the male models for menswear campaigns he’d shot had worn, and he made a thoughtful noise as he nodded. “What you’re wearing is perfect, actually.”
“Wouldn’t you prefer something fresh?” Arthur asked, his eyebrows raised. “I wore this to work, it’s all...rumpled.”
“Any starching or ironing has been softened from the day’s wear, and the folds will be more natural-looking,” Merlin countered. Arthur nodded thoughtfully. “Now, did you want to do something a bit more risque as well?” He gestured to his bag of lingerie. Arthur bit his lip.
“I’m not sure I can,” he murmured, looking aside. A blush coloured his cheeks, and Merlin felt the conflicting urges to cup his face and reassure him as well as lick down his neck and see how far down the blush went.
Down boy, he scolded himself.
“It’s not so bad, I promise,” he said out loud, and bent over to pick up a string bikini bottom that was laying on top of the pile. “You should see some of the things I’ve seen models be put in. This is tame in comparison.” Merlin laughed, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but Arthur just looked more miserable. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and shoved a hand through his lovely blond hair.
“No, I meant…” Arthur groaned, wiping a hand down his face. Merlin stood there patiently, waiting for him to find his words. “The reason I’m doing this, is because my friend Gwen thinks I need a boost of self-esteem. And apparently having sexy photos professionally taken is supposed to do that. Make me feel confident and hot, or some rubbish.” Arthur clearly didn’t believe what he was saying, and Merlin didn’t know how to respond. “No, it’s not rubbish,” he added a moment later before Merlin could speak. “If I thought that I wouldn’t be doing this. I’m just not sure how much it will actually help. Gwen seems to think it’ll work, though. And you came highly recommended to do the job.”
The compliment made Merlin flush with pride, but he set that aside for the time being. He cocked his head to the side, curious. “She sounds like a good friend,” he said, tentatively.
Arthur laughed, more of a short scoff. “She is, but this feels more like her way of torturing me.”
Merlin dropped the bikini and moved to sit next to Arthur, putting a hand on his knee gently. “What’s the matter? How can I help?”
“I’m not sure you can,” Arthur said, sounding much too close to despair for someone as lovely as he was to sound. “My last boyfriend—” at this, Merlin’s heart jumped into his throat at the sudden rush of possibility, “—he was rather unkind to me, when it came to my weight.”
Merlin’s eyebrows knit together at the statement. “What a dick,” was all he could think to say. He knew from experience that no matter what you told someone about their appearance, they wouldn’t believe it if they were intent on finding the flaws. He had worked with models some would call the most beautiful women in the world, but when they looked in the mirror they could tell you exactly where every imperfection was. It drove Merlin mad.
“An understatement,” Arthur said drily. “But it’s not like he was wrong.”
“Listen, this is our first time meeting and you don’t know me at all,” Merlin said, unable to keep quiet in the face of such self-deprecation that was wholly undeserved, “but trust me when I say that you’re gorgeous.”
“You just don’t see it,” Arthur said, staring down at his hands resting in his lap. “It’s hidden by the suit.”
“Well let’s see it, then,” Merlin said, causing Arthur to look up at him sharply in surprise.
“What?” he said, his mouth flopping open and closed in a charming impression of a fish. Merlin felt himself smiling fondly at it.
“I’m here to shoot you in your boudoir, that requires you taking your clothes off. I’m gonna see either way,” Merlin said. Arthur narrowed his eyes, searching Merlin for what he assumed was any hint of malice. After a long moment, he stood and shucked off his suit jacket. The stubbornness was back in his expression. Merlin thought it was beautiful.
“Hold on, let me get my camera,” he said, wanting to capture him like that. He rushed over to the tripod and picked the camera up off of it, pointing it at Arthur who was opening the buttons of his waistcoat. He snapped several photos, looking at them in the LCD screen to check the focus. As he did, he heard the whisper of fabric hitting the floor, and looked up in time to see Arthur loosening his tie.
“Are you some sort of pervert?” Arthur asked, and Merlin wanted to laugh. The denial was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t in good conscience say ‘no’ to the question. He certainly was acting like a pervert at that moment.
“Just a fashion photographer that likes to work with stubborn, beautiful men,” he said instead. “Take off your trousers, and get up on the bed. Kneel.”
Arthur did as he was told, and as the trousers dropped to the floor leaving him in just his shirt and houndstooth-patterned socks that coordinated surprisingly well with the slate blue button-down, he looked as though he were making a herculean effort to not try and cover his thick thighs. The bottom of his maroon boxer-briefs peeked out from beneath the hem of Arthur’s shirt, the fabric straining slightly against the flex of his thighs. God, Merlin wanted to spread them apart and spend hours mapping their contours. They weren’t model-thin and corded with the hard lines of muscles the way he was used to, but they were strong and meaty and made his mouth water with a need to sink his teeth into them, to taste.
“May I arrange you? It would require me touching you,” Merlin asked, slinging the camera strap over his neck across his body and positioning the camera under his arm and out of the way. Arthur nodded. Merlin moved to the side of the bed, putting a knee on the edge of it and leaning forward to open the buttons of Arthur’s shirt one by one. He left the bottom two closed, and gently pushed the shoulders down Arthur’s arms.
“Can’t I leave it buttoned?” Arthur asked, clearly uncomfortable. Merlin moved back, and looked him over. His chest was lightly covered in hair the same golden colour as his head, and his pink nipples were pert and looked positively edible. His stomach was soft, but it was the sort of soft that spoke of a comfortable life with good food and just enough physical activity to stave off any true gut.
“Oh I wish you wouldn’t,” he heard himself say, quite without his brain’s permission. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
“You’re just saying that because I’m paying you,” Arthur said, crossing his arm over his chest to try and hide. Merlin shook his head and gently pulled the arm back, pushing the shirt further down Arthur’s arms to expose more of him and trap his arms at his sides.
“No, I’m saying it because that’s what I think. God, you’re beautiful,” he said. He reached out to touch Arthur’s chest, stopping himself just before he could and looking at him for permission. Arthur looked back, neither giving permission nor forbidding him. Merlin’s hand hovered where it was.
“I’m fat,” Arthur whispered.
“You’re not,” Merlin vehemently denied. “You’re so lovely, so soft in the best way. I’ve seen more models than I can remember with abs for days, but listen to me Arthur.” His hovering hand moved to cup Arthur’s jaw, to urge him to look into Merlin’s eyes. “You are perfect. If we’re being honest, you’re my waking wet dream, and I’m having a difficult time not getting hard here.”
The last statement brought a slow smile to Arthur’s face, and Merlin wanted to punch whoever it was that made Arthur hate himself so badly. He wanted to go back in time and prevent Arthur from encountering the person that took away his self-worth. He wanted to show him he was worth loving, no matter what.
“You really are a pervert,” Arthur said in a soft, unexpected tease. Merlin laughed, a short, surprised sound.
“If I told you I wasn’t usually like this, would you believe me?” he asked, slowly pulling his hand away from Arthur’s face. Arthur caught it before he could, and moved it down to touch his chest. Merlin felt his racing heartbeat, and flicked his thumb across Arthur’s nipple, drawing a soft gasp.
“If I told you I didn’t care, would you keep touching me like this?” he said, breathless.
“Whatever you want,” Merlin said, and moved to kiss Arthur, slow and deep and filthy, a preface of what he intended to do. Clearly, Arthur had a lot of self-esteem to regain, and Merlin was willing to put in the work. Merlin broke the kiss to nip at Arthur’s lower lip, tugging it between his teeth, then trailed his lips across Arthur’s jaw, making a pleased noise at the scrape of the five o’clock shadow he found there before moving lower to suck on the long line of Arthur’s neck. He let his hand slip lower, across Arthur’s belly, feeling the muscles shift as Arthur tried to move away.
“Please…” Arthur said, biting his lip and gently pushing Merlin’s hand away. Merlin wanted to protest, to reiterate how lovely he found Arthur, but instead he moved his hand to Arthur’s hip and pushed him back against the pillows. Arthur’s shirt rode up, exposing his half-hard cock laying against his lower belly, covered by those boxer-briefs and obscuring a lovely view. Merlin hooked his fingers beneath the waistband and slowly peeled them from Arthur, then dipped his head down to lay a series of kisses down the ridge along the underside of his cock as he deposited the underwear onto the pile of discarded clothes on the floor next to the bed.
“Stay like that, I’ll be right back,” Merlin said, moving back to his pile of lingerie and digging through it until he came up with a pair of dusty mauve boyshort-style knickers made completely of lace.
Arthur looked at the knickers in Merlin’s hand, shaking his head. “I can’t wear those,” he said, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “There’s no way they’ll fit.”
“Sure they will,” Merlin assured him, demonstrating to Arthur how the lace stretched much more than it appeared as though it should. “And you’ll look amazing in them, contrasting with that shirt of yours.”
Arthur looked skeptical, but allowed Merlin to thread his feet through the leg holes of the knickers and up his legs. He lifted his hips to assist in getting them over his hips and ass, and as Merlin pulled them over his cock, he bent down to kiss it again.
“Stay hard for me, yeah?” Merlin said with a grin. “It’ll look good in the pictures.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’ll do what I can,” he said, clearly trying to sound long-suffering, but the breathlessness underlying his tone gave him away.
“How are you feeling?” Merlin asked, arranging the folds of Arthur’s shirt to show off the lace of the knickers and one of his shoulders, covering one nipple and leaving the other exposed.
“Surprisingly sexy,” Arthur said, tucking his legs up in a sort of cheesecake pin-up pose at Merlin’s urging. “Didn’t think the knickers’d fit over my stomach considering they’re lace, but they’re rather comfortable.”
“Amazing things being done with lace in the fashion world these days,” Merlin said with a laugh, stepping back to put his camera back on the tripod and snapping several photos. “You look fucking gorgeous like that.”
“Stop,” Arthur said, embarrassment clear in the way his voice sounded and the colour of his face. Merlin shook his head.
“I’m being honest, I want very badly to rip those things off you and swallow your cock whole,” he said matter-of-factly as the shutter of his camera clicked rapidly. “You’re very, very sexy.”
“Easy to be sexy when someone looks at you like that,” Arthur murmured. “Like you want to eat me.”
“It’s a god-damned tragedy you don’t seem to have more experience with that,” Merlin said with a shake of his head. “Spread your legs a bit for me? And throw your head back with your eyes closed.”
Arthur did so, cracking one eye open to look at Merlin. “Like this?”
“Yeah, hold on,” Merlin said, leaving the camera to move back to the side of the bed. He ran his fingers through Arthur’s silken hair, ruffling it up into a tousled mess. “Gotta give you the just-got-shagged look.”
“There’s a better way of getting that look,” Arthur grumbled, the corner of his mouth twitching into an almost-smile.
“Why Mr. Pendragon, are you suggesting I am anything but a consummate professional?” Merlin joked, pulling his hand away. Arthur grabbed it and tugged Merlin until he toppled onto the bed on top of him.
“I am suggesting,” Arthur said as he guided Merlin’s hand toward his lace-covered erection, “that perhaps the best way of looking well-shagged is to actually be well-shagged.”
Merlin ran his hand along the throbbing length of him, tracing the shape of his cock with his fingertips. His own cock pressed insistently against the zipper of his skinny jeans, and Merlin figured at that point, why the hell not?
“I mean, you can’t argue with that logic,” he said, slipping his hand into Arthur’s knickers as he slotted their mouths together in a wet, openmouthed kiss. He had a feeling the photos that came from this shoot would be some of his best work.
Shame he wouldn’t be willing to show them to anyone else.