Warnings/Spoilers: Possessive!Arthur
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Word Count: ~3K
Summary: Arthur hates Merlin's new gym routine because it means less time to spend together. Besides, Arthur loves Merlin's body just the way it is. Why fuck up perfection?
Notes: beta: ArcadianMaggie, OnTheTurningAway and Brit picker: fr333bird. Written with the aid of a photo from Pervy Picspiration over on PervPacksSmutShack. com.

I wrote this for you, whitewave320. Happy Birthday!

Ridiculous Red Socks

It was a fad. At least that's what I'd told myself when he no longer showed up at six on the dot like he had done every day for the past seven years. But it was more than that. The gym had become something he needed to do to work off the stress of the day and to be fit.

"For you, Arthur," he'd said as if it were something obvious.

I argued, but he refused to listen. I loved him just the way he was—wiry limbs, hipbones that fit perfectly in my palms, and a long, lean neck that I could easily get lost in.

Each evening when he didn't walk through the door when expected I'd sigh, frustrated at myself and frustrated with him. This had been going on for weeks. I knew it was foolish to be upset when he was doing something to better himself … but still, I missed him.

So it's surprising when I come home and see his car parked on the street.

Kilgharrah, our dog, greets me with his usual gusto, nails clicking on the hard wood floor and tail slapping against the plaster wall and maple cupboard.

"Hey boy," I whisper against Kilgharrah's furry head. "Did you have a good day? Scare the postman away? Good, good." This is how we greet each other, every day the same words as I pat his rump.

Gently, I set my bag down and slip off my shoes and socks, glad to have my bare feet greet the ground again. I work the stress from my neck as I walk down the hall toward our bedroom. I hear a grunt or two on the way and the release of an exhausted sigh. Merlin's voice is unusually deep and gruff, but I like it.

At our bedroom door I pause, utterly overtaken by his beautiful body spread out like a dessert for me. He looks as if he's collapsed face down on the bed in exhaustion. Only Merlin would lift weights in our bedroom whilst starkers. I don't hesitate a moment, taking advantage of his closed eyes and restful state. I open my fly and push my trousers and pants down and off my legs. My torso is bare in seconds, and I have my hands exploring the fuzzy sprawl of his legs.

I'm lost in his legs, palms trailing over lean lines, tracing his dragon tattoo that was inked long before I knew him. Somehow, I'm able to ignore his ridiculous red socks, the only clothing he has on. I have no clue why he's wearing them, but I have no idea why he does many of the things he does.

"Mmm," I hear from him as I plant a kiss on the back of his thigh. He's positioned so brazenly, like he wants me to do very dirty things to him. I want to. Awful, filthy things. Maybe that's why I'm standing buck-naked with Kilgharrah looking up at me, wagging his tail expectantly.

"Go on, Kil. Go to your kennel," I command.

Thankfully, the dog disappears.

That's when Merlin takes his left hand off his twenty-pound weight, looks over his shoulder at me, and wantonly opens himself for me by bending a knee. I nearly die as his arse cheeks spread to reveal a dark channel. His taint is swollen and pale above his balls, and I can't help but notice. I want nothing more than to explore. I crawl over his body and hover there, not allowing myself to touch him yet.

"What a surprise," I whisper gently against the nape of his neck instead. The dark curls stir under my breath and tickle my lips.

He arches his back and lets me know how aroused he is. I latch onto his neck and shamelessly suck, fully aware that I'm going to leave a nasty mark for everyone at the gym to see. I'm tired of him spending more time there than at home. They may as well know he has someone to come home to. He moans at the sucking sensation, practically begging for it. I pull away and see a bruise already forming, so I bite on the other side of his neck and suck some more.

I plant a kiss to his shoulder and work my way back across to his spine, lavishing every single bump with a kiss. In all honestly, it's more like sucking: a sucking kiss. I fantasise about leaving red marks all down his back that will be there for weeks, fading to purple to green and finally, yellow and brown. Maybe he'd feel my presence every time he rested on his back to bench press and he'd think of me at home, waiting for him.

Despite my fantasies, I just leave lingering kisses that make him go crazy. He has his face buried in the pillows, breathing in the scent of our sheets. Our scent.

Just that thought brings my face behind his left knee. I lick and breathe him in. He grabs the back of my head and holds me there as if I had licked his cock. My tongue explores and finds that not only is he salty, he keens when I caress him just so. Slowly his hand moves and he guides me up the back of his thigh. I taste him, revelling in the feel of his taut muscle and the hair beneath my tongue.

Then there it is. That pale bit of flesh between his balls and his arse. It's not smooth as first appeared from the doorway. Rather, there's a light dusting of hair. He's a man. Every speck of him. And I want to feel his fuzzy arse on my face.

I lick, taste, concentrating every ounce of my attention on that swollen taint, but in doing so, my nose gets buried in his hole. When I take a breath, I smell him. It's good. He's musky, earthy, and a bit sweaty. His scent makes my legs feel like jelly.

He gasps into the sheets and tries hard to spread his legs farther for me. My tongue presses firmly against that swell and he pushes back into my face. He likes it. I suck his balls, rolling them against my tongue one by one before returning to his taint. My face is pressed tighter to his flesh as he grabs a handful of my hair and tugs. I love how it hurts. My tongue goes crazy trying to lick his prostate to orgasm from the outside. I know the likelihood of that happening is slim, but it doesn't stop me from trying.

My face is slick with my own saliva. I don't realise I've gotten so carried away until a rather vigorous lick causes me to slip and slide right up to his sacrum. I can't keep from chuckling. When I pull back to gather my bearings, he wriggles his arse in invitation. How am I supposed to resist that?

Shadows tease me, hinting at a secret that's tucked away between two of the most luscious cheeks I've ever seen. He's perfect. I skim my hands down his sides and cup his hipbones in the curl of my fingers. His skin is so warm from his at-home workout, so I drift for a few minutes and allow my hands to feel his body.

I plant my thumbs in the dimples above his cheeks and lean into him, forcing him to release a heady moan that makes me want to completely reconsider how slowly I'm moving. Tracing the lines of muscle—it doesn't escape me that these are new lines of muscle—I smile at how hard he's been working to better himself, even if that means less time at home with me. Nevertheless, I spank him, earning a sharp cry and words begging for more. A few more slaps and I can no longer avoid that darkened valley despite the pink bloom of his skin.

"Do you want me to eat you?" I whisper into the crevice near his thigh, knowing every breath is a tease against his sensitive skin. His cheeks clench against my lips for only a second, though.

"Yes," he hisses. "God, Arthur. Please."

"Let me see. Open yourself up for me," I encourage.

A sound that could only be called a whimper leaves his throat as he lifts up to his knees. I can do little but sit back and appreciate what he's showing me: everything. Secrets. Shame. Pride. Knowledge. Fearlessness.

My hand skims up and down his back. I love how his upper body remains flush to the mattress with only his arse high in the air. He's a fucking gift resting on a goddamned pillow.

One of my hands centres against that divide, keeping me from seeing everything. I feel his hole against my palm, though. I push in to feel the flutter of muscle. He wants me. Instead, I bite the fullness of his arse, licking against the hair that is sprinkled about.

When I move to finally reveal his secrets, I drop my weight onto my heels and take the time to just look. His furl is clamped tight, all coppery-pink perfection, much like his nipples. I notice the little café au lait birthmark about an inch away. Does he even know about it? It's one of my favourite secrets about his body. I wonder who, besides his mother, has ever seen it before. How many lovers even took the time to study the elongated shape that resembles an ill formed triangle, if anything at all? My thumb lovingly strokes it and he melts at the touch.

With steady hands I spread him so I can get closer. I whisper how beautiful he is against his skin and watch him respond in anticipatory goose bumps. He's anxious for me.

But I taunt with more heated breath and bites to fleshier areas. I suck a purple mark low on his cheek, and he moans from the moment my mouth starts until I pull away. It's a craven sound that has me so turned on that I'm barely able to continue, especially with the scent of him wrapped all around me.

I slide my tongue against his hole and just stay there, applying steady pressure and feeling his muscle twitch and twitch and twitch in the centre of my tongue.

"You'll be the death of me," he whimpers into the mattress.

The want in his voice makes my mouth water and I don't attempt to swallow it away. I use it to bathe him as I finally start to move and lick and taste him.

His back arches as he fucks himself on my tongue, doing everything in his power to get me to go deeper. I try, spreading his cheeks, planting his hands on his arse so he stays open for me. In moments, I'm lost to the sensation of him on my face. Every change in texture, I'm aware of. I groan when he tightens his hole around my tongue and he begs for more, so I hum against his skin, kissing that pucker, sucking at him, allowing my teeth to sink into muscle.

When I pull away to take a break, he looks at me with questioning eyes.

"I'll get back in your arse," I promise as I wipe saliva from my chin and chuckle at his non-verbal complaint, a pout on his perfect mouth. "Do you want me unable to move my jaw and tongue tomorrow? Those are quite necessary movements when one needs to talk, you do realise."

"I'm not sure giving a silly speech trumps my arse at the moment," Merlin says with a smile that pulls at his face and makes his eyes crinkle up in the corner. He draws himself up on all fours and shifts his weight. A small trickle of spit slides down his taint toward his balls and I catch it, using it to slip a finger in his pretty pink hole.

Merlin hisses as he fucks himself on my finger. I add another, watching as his hole spreads and gobbles up the second and third fingers. He's shameless and so am I, staring at the slick, pink flesh as I spread and curl my fingers. As I press on his prostate, he takes his cock in hand and furiously strips it over and over.

Suddenly, he pulls away from me and crawls to the head of the bed to grab the bottle of lube from the table. He's all stretched out and ready for me. At the moment, I want to take everything he has to offer me as I see how flushed his arse and cock are for me.

I drag him back down the bed and lick back into him, feeling his smooth heat surround my tongue.

"No more teasing," he mock-scolds me whilst attempting to tackle me to the bed. Despite his muscle gains, his strength is no match for my own, but I like where he wants to take me, so I willingly go. "Further back," he demands, slapping me on the bottom as he walks on his knees, thick cock obscenely bobbing with each step. I reach out and smear the drip about to fall to the duvet all over the head of his prick. "Not fair, Arthur. That's most clearly teasing." His eyes flash with something a bit menacing and his voice deepens. "Now sit."

I hear Kilgharrah's rear hit the floor in the hallway and I laugh until Merlin glares at me. He's very serious as he opens the bottle and drizzles the lubrication over my cock in a seductive move. My eyes flutter shut as he finally touches me. My breath catches and I thrust up into the circle of his fingers.

I feel movement on the bed, but my eyes refuse to open until he impales himself on my prick. His sinewy neck is right at eye level and my mouth takes over so my mind can catch up to the fact that Merlin is riding me hard. I lick around his Adam's apple and into the hollow of his throat as his weight falls again and again.

"Slow down. You're going to hurt yourself."

He throws his head back and goes faster. I grab two hands full of arse and squeeze the muscle there. He tears at my hair, directing me to suck and lick and kiss his neck and chest and nipples. I help him ride me harder and harder so that soon he's panting hot, stuttering breaths across my neck.

I palm his cock and use my other hand to help him fuck himself on my dick. His balls are drawing up tight and I know what to expect. I've known for years. I aim his cock the best I can and close my eyes, knowing full well that my face is going to be covered with Merlin's come; that burns if it gets in the eye. No one shoots like he does.

"Paint me," I breathe against his skin, more desperate sounding than I ever intended.

His hole clenches around me so I squeeze my eyes even tighter. My face is awash in his come as it lands in my hair, my eyelashes, drips into my mouth, and slides off my chin and jaw. I know not to lick it away even though I ache to do so. I practically sob with relief at the feel of wet warmth covering me and I tumble over the edge filling his arse.

Gently, Merlin thumbs down my eyelashes, wiping so I can see again. He traces the lines of come on my face, and when I open my eyes, I see him licking his fingers. His tongue slides over my cheeks and chin. He licks into my mouth and I finally get to taste him. He moves to my chest, but only after he's drawn some nonsense pattern in his own cooling spunk.

I palm his arse as he cleans me as meticulously as a kitten, sliding a finger into his hole beside my softening cock. He's slick with my come and I don't want to lose our connection just yet. I feel around his rim giving us both moments of shuddery pleasure.

Merlin presses his forehead to my shoulder and I mouth at his ear, licking and nipping. He pulls away, complaining that it tickles, but I hold him fast.

"I love you," I whisper into his ear.

"Of course you do. It's because I'm so muscle-y now."

"Is that what you think?" I chide as I easily pin him to the bed and start kissing down his side as he struggles against my hold and eventually falls into laughter. "I noticed your bum is a lot tighter," I growl as I squeeze his fullness.

"Stop. I'm all slippery," he complains.

"Mmm. Is that so?" My mouth finally makes it to his arse and I readily slip my tongue between his cheeks where I taste my come. I spend long moments licking him clean before I mouth his balls and prick.

"You know, Merlin, I can tell."


"The gym," I say as I lie beside him and get comfortable on his shoulder. My hand settles on his hipbone, but I notice it feels different. "Just more definition. Maybe it's not so bad, you going," I mumble.

"Despite you being overly jealous? Or do you just miss me?"

I nuzzle into his neck and take a deep breath. "Yes, I miss you, but I already love you just the way you are. I like you lithe and bendy."

Just then, Kilgharrah barks, unsettling me from my comfy position. I groan and try to get into another nice cuddle, but Merlin slithers away, pulling on pants as he mutters about taking the dog for a walk.

"Too tired," I reply.

"No worries, Prince Arthur. You sleep. I still need to get my cardio in today."

"Are you actually going to wear those ridiculous red socks outside the flat?"

"You bet. Apparently, they make me extra sexy."

"They do," I admit.

I roll over and bury my nose in Merlin's pillow, easily falling asleep.

Thanks for reading.