Archive of Our Own

Arthur stepped out of the bath and the cool air of the room raised goosebumps along his skin. He shivered and lifted his arms for Merlin to wrap a drying cloth around his torso. A remark about the fire not being stoked caught in his throat as Merlin’s lips closed around his wet nipple. He touched his hand to Merlin’s nape, let the comfort and predictability of Merlin's attentions wash over him and exhaled. It had been a long day waiting for this.

"On the bed," Merlin whispered, his warm breath hitting Arthur’s chest. Arthur raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue with the command; if Merlin wanted to play at being in charge tonight, Arthur was too exhausted to care. It never lasted much past the foreplay anyway. When he sat on the bed, Merlin added, "On your stomach. Gaius gave me something for your shoulder."

Arthur climbed onto the bed and hesitated. He wouldn’t say no to a massage, if that was on offer, though he’d really just been hoping to get his cock sucked after that truly horrific feast with Lord Dubois, who always stood too close and smelled of fresh sheep dung. "Merlin, my shoulder hasn’t bothered me for weeks."

"Good," Merlin said, and an unfamiliar smirk pulled at his lips. Then he muttered something else, hand outstretched, and ropes appeared at each of Arthur’s wrists. Arthur’s eyes widened. They dragged him forward until his knuckles hit the headboard and then they twisted themselves around the wood.

"A little warning, Merlin."

It had been six months since Merlin had first revealed his powers to Arthur, and only a couple months since they’d become lovers. The thought of Merlin being a sorcerer still sent a twinge of panic to Arthur’s gut; the feel of that magic on his skin was all he needed for a wave of lust to crash upon him. He suspected Merlin was well aware of both of those facts.

Arthur shifted, trying to find a position that was comfortable and didn’t involve his arse high in the air. It wasn’t a position he was used to. They’d tried it once, but Arthur had been tense and Merlin clumsy, too gentle by half. Arthur may have been a bit cutting in his remarks. Neither had spoken of it since.

He could hear Merlin shuffling about, feel the dip of the bed as Merlin knelt behind him. He tried to twist around to see and his towel was stripped away with a flash of yellow in Merlin’s eyes. Arthur cursed getting distracted from complaining about the fire at the sudden chill. Then something hot was drizzled on his bare arse and his breath caught. It was warm and thick – not as hot as candle wax, but warmer than his bath water. "What on earth?"

"Shh."

More of the stuff was poured on him, and a drip slipped down his cleft, slow and sticky. It was not a little disgusting. His face flamed with a blush. "Merlin!"

"It’ll be okay." Merlin’s voice was quiet, pensive. Arthur shifted again, putting his weight on his palms so he could lift to his hands and knees and see Merlin easier. Merlin was staring at his arse, watching the liquid drip down onto his sheets. Humiliation and arousal danced together in his gut. He debated commanding Merlin to set him free and wondered if Merlin would. His cock, hanging fat and thick between his legs, twitched at the possibility of Merlin refusing.

A strange scent filled the air, spicy and almost sickly sweet. "Is that honey? It’s warm." Warm like it had been set near the fire, but also like it was getting warmer. The sensitive skin between his arse cheeks seemed to heat with the liquid.

Merlin hummed. "Did you have fun at the feast, Arthur?"

Arthur thought a moment then smiled. "I said I was sorry."

"And did you mean it?"

Arthur laughed, forgetting for a moment his predicament as the image of Merlin in that awful hat sprang to mind, his face as red as the feathers while Lady Dubois tittered at Arthur’s ‘delightful manservant.’ Arthur blinked and the mirth evaporated. The honey had started to become uncomfortable, sticky and warm and ... really warm.

He tugged at the ropes about his wrists. "What is that? It’s... it’s not just honey." A nervous tickle began at the back of his neck.

"No, it’s not just honey." Merlin dragged a finger through the mess on Arthur’s arse in lazy swirls. "Gaius was working on a muscle stimulant the other day. Honey and ginger. It has an interesting effect when applied to skin."

"Ginger?" Arthur squirmed. He was beginning to sweat and Merlin was still touching him, sliding a sticky finger up and down his cleft.

"And you know the best part?"

Arthur shifted. He clenched his arse cheeks together, hoping to stop Merlin’s teases, but his skin instantly flared in heat. He was dirty and too warm, uncomfortable immediately after having taken a lovely bath.

"What is the best part, Merlin?" Arthur asked, exasperated.

"It tastes fantastic." Before the words registered, Merlin spread Arthur open and began to lick from his tailbone south, tiny flicks of his tongue that set Arthur’s heart thudding.

"God, Merlin. That’s –"

Merlin didn’t stop. He swiped his flat tongue along Arthur’s crack, humming to himself and licking, sucking the syrup from Arthur’s skin. Then his tongue was at Arthur’s entrance, teasing the hole with gentle prods. Arthur focused on breathing, as if he’d entirely forget if he didn’t concentrate properly and kill himself in a fit of frustration and lust. As the muscle began to open, small spasms of tension and release, the ginger spread further, pushed in by Merlin’s tongue. Arthur’s eyes flew open and he knew immediately, this was only the beginning. "It’s getting really hot."

Merlin pushed his face in further, improving the angle with a shove between Arthur’s shoulder blades and lift to his hips. Arthur buried his face in his pillow, a whispered, "Dammit, Merlin," lost in the filthy sounds of Merlin’s mouth on his arse. His world shrunk around him, Camelot and the crown, all dissolving for an instant in the face of the pure cardinal pleasure of having one’s arse licked.

The cool air at his wet, ginger-hot skin snapped Arthur back to the moment and he realised Merlin was talking. "You love me in that hat, don’t you?"

Arthur chuckled, half-broken. "Remember when the feather dipped into my gravy when you poured my wine?" Arthur rasped, his throat raw with emotion. "And it dripped on your cheek every time you moved."

Merlin said nothing, but two fingers pushed at Arthur’s tender hole. Arthur clenched around them as they breached him, stretching, burning. They pumped slow, lazy, spreading the ointment further. It had to be mixed with oil now, it was slippery and messy. Still the heat was there, intensifying with every stroke. Arthur’s eyes watered. The last time he hadn’t enjoyed this bit, had found it awkward and embarrassing. Now, need clawed away at his pride and he felt none of his former reserve.

"You thought it was terribly funny." Merlin’s fingers slowed further, in and out, until Arthur could barely breathe from the frustration. He choked on a gasp as the burn became unbearable. Merlin pulled out completely and that was worse than anything; the empty itch left behind made Arthur open his mouth in a silent scream. "You laughed through the entire second course."

Arthur pushed back, refusing to beg, refusing to voice how desperate he was for anything, just anything to make it stop. He hung his head, sweat dripping onto his pillow. He could see the heavy sway of dick between his legs. "Merlin," slipped past his lips before he could stop it.

"Are you sorry?"

"Yes," Arthur hissed through clench teeth.

Merlin kissed up Arthur’s spine, leaving a faint trail of heat from the syrup still on his lips. "I bet you are." His laugh was dark, sly and Arthur’s spine tingled as though the sound made the kiss marks flare to life.

Every day was a discovery with Merlin. Some days Arthur thought he knew, though he understood what went on behind those wide blue eyes. Tonight, more than ever, he questioned how much he really knew Merlin and he felt the thrill of excitement and curiosity of potential, what was to come in the days and years ahead of them.

The blunt tip of Merlin’s cock touched Arthur's entrance, slippery and warm. Too warm. "You didn’t."

"I did." Merlin’s breath caught on the words, a crack in the control he’d shown all evening.

Arthur tried to imagine it, what Merlin was feeling at the moment, the sensation of that ginger and honey slathered on his dick, a blanket of heat tingling from root to tip. God. He pushed himself back on that warmth.

In one fierce stroke, Merlin pushed in. It was far from their too gentle first time when Merlin had treated Arthur like he was made of glass, like he wasn’t sure if Arthur was going to tell him to stop if he did anything too quick, too hard. Arthur’s mind resonated with words like ‘finally’ and ‘yes, this’ and he widened the spread of his legs, urging him on.

The honey mixture pushed into him together with Merlin’s cock, deeper than Merlin’s tongue and fingers had gone, stretching him wider. Arthur didn’t care. He remembered last summer when Sir Leon had tumbled into a batch of poison ivy. How he’d scratched until he drew blood just to make the itch stop. Arthur hadn’t understood then how pain could give pleasure. But that expression on Leon’s face, relief – almost ecstasy – as Gaius left the room and he tore off his bandages and clawed at his skin, yes, Arthur understood now as he thrust himself back onto Merlin’s cock.

"You’re trembling," Merlin said, his breath coming in short desperate puffs.

Arthur shot a look over his shoulder. Merlin’s face was blotchy red, his lip caught between his teeth. "What are you waiting for?" Arthur ground out, the pain and arousal making him snarl the words. He clenched around Merlin’s cock and they both hissed as the ginger sent them higher.

Merlin pulled out, so only the tip was still in, Arthur’s tight ring clinging to base of the crown, and he waited. Arthur was ready to scream when Merlin finally spoke. "I want that hat."

"Merlin, that is an official—" Arthur began, but Merlin’s hand, slick with oil and honey, slid over Arthur’s cock and the breath stole from his lungs. The ginger didn’t seep in immediately, but he knew it was coming. His slit was already tingling. "You dirty bastard." Arthur tried to thrust into Merlin’s hand, get friction to relieve the tingling as the sensation started to spread down his cock and inside. "Shit."

Merlin held him tight, a hand squeezing the base of his cock and another curled at his hip. He couldn’t move. Not enough. "Bastard." He tugged at the ropes; his wrists were red, raw – when had that happened?

"The hat." Merlin’s fingers dug into his hip, bruising.

Arthur huffed. "Fine. The hat’s yours."

"Good." Merlin laughed and pumped back in, hard and fast.

It set off sparks of light behind Arthur's eyes that could not be normal, but Arthur had no time to worry because Merlin’s hips snapped back and forth in a ruthless rhythm. Arthur swelled in gratitude. The tight grip pumping his cock and the steady pounding of his arse were everything he needed. His orgasm started deep inside himself, building like a maelstrom. He could feel it twisting to life and tearing out of him like nothing he'd ever experienced, blinding, consuming.

He was still riding the numb thrill of it when, behind him, Merlin cried out and slammed forward, burying himself deep as he could, riding out the orgasm.

When they had caught their breath, Merlin dragged them both back to the bath – the cooled water was like a Godsend, washing away the heat and the mess, removing all but the hint of sting from the ginger.

Merlin leaned back to rest on Arthur's chest. He lifted his hand towards Arthur’s trunk; the lid opened and the hat hopped out, feathers bouncing. It hovered before them. "Baerne."

Merlin turned, the flaming feathers reflecting in his eyes and a broad, ridiculous grin on his face. Arthur couldn't help but kiss him. His mouth was sweet and hot and a bit sticky. It tasted like power and possibilities and other things, things Arthur had never dreamed of but suddenly wanted. He clenched just to feel the pleasant ache of his abused arse and immediately set about planning the commission of a new hat.