So my very first mature fic and I'm SO EXCITED!
Arthur's never really thought about how sad it is that a bunch of 0's and 1's of binary depicting a message from his best friend can be the light of his day. That he texts Merlin more than he ever would his girlfriends. That the only time they're not together is if one of them has class. But even then, they'll text. It's just a natural thing. Common. Routine.
And Arthur's never really thought about how it's kind of pathetic that he's rejected one night stand invitations because he wanted to hang out with his best friend instead. And he doesn't really care that he sometimes stares at the expanse of Merlin's neck, wondering what it would be like to ravish it with his lips. What it would sound like. Nor does it bother him that sometimes he'll have… erm.… erotic dreams about his best friend. Because that's just natural, yeah? He could peg it on his hormones. Or the fact that he hasn't had sex in over six months. And it's not like his imagination is controlled. When he's horny, he's horny. The end\.
So, blissfully unawares to all of the above, Arthur never really thinks about how he and Merlin are basically an unofficial couple. They're just close best friends. And if Merlin's face happens to pop up while Arthur's indulging in a much needed wank, it's dismissed. Whatever helps the process along, well… it's innocent enough.
So when Arthur receives an "urgent" text message from his best friend, he smiles softly to himself and rolls his eyes. Because Merlin's definition of "urgent" is Donna Noble no longer being with the Doctor. Or not being able to find his red shirt to match that ridiculous navy blue scarf. He hates Merlin's scarves. There's something absurdly and erotically alluring about what could possibly be hiding underneath that scarf. And yeah, it's sort of mysterious. But a sexually frustrated Arthur is an unhappy Arthur. So he thinks the scarves should hit the fucking road.
It takes about two minutes for Arthur to walk down two flights of stairs and arrive at Merlin's apartment. Why Merlin can't even bother to come upstairs to his apartment, Arthur will never know.
He doesn't knock. He just waltzes in and helps himself to Merlin's refrigerator before entering the bedroom. And when he does, with a cold beer (which is only bought because Merlin knows how much Arthur loves it), Merlin is pacing in his bedroom, his eyebrows furrowed while chewing on his thumbnail.
"Alright, I'm here." Arthur sighs, exasperated. "What urgency could possibly interrupt my busy schedule of sitting around?"
Merlin scowls at him before gesturing at his bed. Three pants and three shirts are strewn about, wrinkled and disheveled and so wonderfully Merlin.
"Merlin," Arthur says, "Are you inviting me to bed with you? I'd rather you ask me to dinner first."
"No you prat!" Merlin seethes. He's apparently not in the mood for sarcastic sexual advances. Arthur's disappointed. "I need your help. I'm meeting up with Cenred and I can't decide what to wear."
Intrigued, Arthur leans against Merlin's bureau, "You text me with some sort of emergency, and I race down here expecting to kill some murderous spider with you screaming that shrill shriek of yours, only to find that you're having a fashion crisis?"
Merlin scowls once more before huffing. "Arthur, you called me over to your flat not two weeks ago, asking me for some condoms because you "maybe kind of" thought you'd have a good shag. And what ended up actually happening? Vivian screaming at you and you finishing the night attempting lubricated balloon animals." Arthur shifts a little uncomfortably. That had not been a good night. "If I can give you a pack of condoms when you're not even shagging, then you can give me your time to make me look shaggable."
Arthur gulps his beer. "I'm rather certain that "shaggable" isn't a real word."
"No, it is. Look it up."
"I don't have to look it up; it's not a word."
"Shag: meaning intercourse. Suffix -able: meaning the ability to. Hence, shaggable."
Arthur rolls his eyes, but relents. He heaves another sigh before hoisting himself off the bureau and walking over to the bed.
He points to the middle shirt. "You look your best in purple."
A curious but slightly pleased look crosses Merlin's face. "I do?" And fuck, it's not fair that he sounds so adorable.
Arthur grunts noncommittally and tries not to flush. He flicks his hand to the third pair of pants. "And your arse looks best in those jeans."
Merlin's ears tinge pink. "It does?"
Another grunt, followed by a pregnant pause that nearly kills Arthur. His best friend grins, triumphant. "Alright then, it's settled. I'm changing into these now," and Merlin strips off his shirt, causing Arthur to panic and turn the other way. He makes for an exit, but he hears, "Wait, you clotpole, I need to see how I look first."
"I don't understand how my presence contributes to your vision, but..." And he trails off.
Arthur stays, however, his back facing Merlin, and hears the rustling of clothing. When the finalizing zip of the zipper sounds, Arthur turns around and almost drops his beer.
So he's seen Merlin in purple before. And he's seen Merlin in those ass-flattering jeans. And he's seen those in the same combination. But in his haste, Merlin's shirt is half tucked in and half tucked out of his jeans. And the first three buttons are fucking open, revealing his pale chest and light dusting of hair. He's scratching his head in anticipation, modestly wondering if he's presentable and there's a certain flush to him that Arthur just can't get over. He feels himself harden just looking at his best friend.
Naturally, then, all of the previously mentioned anecdotes are suddenly something to think about and then they're all Arthur's thinking about. He downs his beer in one more gulp, throws the can aside (which earns a scornful look from Merlin), and attempts to pull himself together. He sort of just looks like a fish.
"Uhh..." Arthur resorts to. Merlin quirks an eyebrow at him and literally at the same fucking time, Arthur's cock twitches. He's mentally kicking himself because if he doesn't sit down right this second, his tented jeans are going to give away his impromptu homosexual desires.
"What?" Merlin looks down at himself, his teeth worrying his bottom lip and fuck when did his lips look like that? "It doesn't work, does it?" He flaps his arms a bit before turning around to find something else to wear.
"No!" Arthur says, a little too enthusiastically. "It's great. Truly. Very…" And he steels himself for this because the next word sends so many images into his mind he feels his knees buckle, "shaggable."
Merlin straightens, clearly satisfied. "See? It is a word."
Arthur doesn't say anything. He slaps his hand together like an idiotic seal, and says, "Well, I believe my work here is done. Now can I return to being a specimen of male descent? Or must I continue to venture down this path of gay wonderings?"
Deadpanning at that, Merlin grumbles, "Thank fuck you're in English."
It's silent once more while Merlin pads about his room, fastening his watch over his wrist and whatnot. Arthur can't help but stare at him and think that no, this isn't actually what best friends do. Because no, it isn't what best friends do. And when his impending doom befalls him and the knock sounds at Merlin's door, Arthur feels his stomach plummet. He doesn't want Merlin going on this date. And certainly not with Cenred of all people.
Arthur moves to answer the door, but a hissed out "What are you doing?" stops him. He swivels around to see his best friend slightly panicked.
"Generally when one knocks on the door, another is expected to answer."
"Arthur, do you have any idea how it'll look if you open that door?"
Arthur screws up his face. "No?"
Merlin sighs, exasperated. "If you, looking like you do, answer that door, then Cenred will suspect that you and I are shagging and I cannot have another sexless night, Arthur. I can't. I won't."
His brain sort of stops working after Merlin utters that first part because, well, how does he look? He can infer that he looks quite attractive, but Arthur's not too sure Merlin's aware of what he's saying at this point.
"Looking like I do?" And Arthur cringes at that because he honestly sounds like a Beatles' song title.
Merlin shakes himself, stunted. "...What?"
"How do I look?"
"You said looking like I do," Arthur walks up to Merlin, speaking to him as if he were a child. "How do I look?"
Here's when the puzzle pieces sort of slot perfectly together, because Merlin backs himself up against a wall and Arthur doesn't stop until they're an inhale away.
"Merlin," Arthur purrs. He hears Merlin's soft groan of arousal. Placing his palms on either side of Merlin's head, boxing him in, Arthur leans forward and nuzzles his best friend's - well, no, probably not anymore. - neck. And Merlin whimpers deliciously. "Do you find me…" His heart's pounding in his chest, but he can't stop now because goddammit he's never been this turned on and it's been six months, dammit, six months! So he presses their bodies together, and ruts up against Merlin. "Shaggable?"
"Arthur," Merlin breathes out. That's as far as he gets though, because he's biting back a moan as Arthur's lips attach to his neck. And it's everything Arthur had hoped it would be, sucking and kissing Merlin's neck. It's delectable and orgasmic and he will never stop-
Another knock at the door and Cenred's voice seeps through like an unwanted stench. "Merlin? Are you in there?"
Merlin freezes, clearly feeling guilty about this whole shebang, but Arthur's unrelenting as he sinks his teeth into that gorgeous neck. Merlin gasps and involuntarily bucks against Arthur. Hands fly to his hair and tug and finally, Merlin smashes their lips together. It's dirty and filthy and oh so right because the sexual tension has been crackling ever since they first talked about sex in the eleventh grade. Merlin doesn't even attempt tenderness; that shit can be saved for later confessions. His tongue is thrusting into Arthur's mouth and tasting him and memorizing him and all Arthur can do is slam his fingers against Merlin's chest and hasten those goddamn buttons off.
"Arrrrthurrrr," Merlin groans and immediately Arthur is pushing them back into his room, closing the door quietly (out of respect for Cenred because, well he's not totally heartless). And then they're on the bed, hands flying and grasping and scrambling for purchase. Arthur, feeling his head swim, dislodges their lips and kisses his way down Merlin's now naked torso, stopping to suck each nipple. They're already hard when Arthur's mouth claims them, taking his sweet time to swirl his tongue over the nubs. Merlin arches into him and his legs part, either voluntarily or involuntarily, Arthur's not sure and he can't really give two fucks at this point, because poking against his stomach is something definitely not in Merlin's pocket. He feels Merlin start to rock into him and Arthur manoeuvres himself up again just for one second so he can document the feel of their cocks rubbing against each other. Arthur's head drops down into the crook of Merlin's neck as they meet in the middle, thrusting wildly and blindly. Merlin's hands curl around the nape of Arthur's neck and grip tightly, and there's this shooting pleasure of pain that causes Arthur to rut even harder. They gasp in unison and know that if they continue down this road, it won't last very long.
Arthur places his hand on Merlin's cheek and his thumb brushes over his bottom lip. He whispers, "wait" and Merlin's nodding with reluctance. Merlin's pupils are blown wide open, his lips red and swollen and his cheeks flushed beautifully. Their chests rise and fall, bumping against each other, and when they can stand it no more, Arthur leans in and kisses Merlin. It's a short kiss, a peck if you will, and Merlin wriggles beneath him, rubbing their cocks together once more. Pleasure shoots through Arthur and he kisses a trail down Merlin's chest, lingers on his hips, and reaches his destination.
He mouths Merlin's cock through his jeans and immediately Arthur's follicles are being yanked and he thinks it slightly odd that he's never entertained the idea of Merlin being a hair-puller. He makes quick work of Merlin's buttons before impatiently tugging at Merlin's jeans. His hips are hitched up and the process is done with ease. Bracing himself, he slips off Merlin's boxers and drinks in the sight of the erect cock standing at attention. It's glorious and a little weird because this is his first gay encounter (albeit the best sex encounter in his whole existence and he hasn't even orgasmed yet). Experimentally, he leans down and places his tongue on the head of Merlin's cock, tasting the pre-come. Merlin squawks, clearly not expecting that, and once more, Arthur's hair is being ripped from his head. He looks up at Merlin, who's practically goggling, and smirks before flicking his tongue out once more.
Merlin's longing for more contact, more friction. And Arthur knows that, the smug bastard, because he doesn't take Merlin in his mouth. He teasingly licks a stripe up Merlin's cock, sucks lightly at the tip and lets his fingers wander wherever they bloody well please.
So, naturally, the next second it's Arthur on his back with Merlin growling slightly above him. Merlin's deft fingers grip the hem of Arthur's shirt and it's soon tossed to the floor, along with his jeans.
They're both panting now, and there's a moment of stillness as they stare at each other in wonderment and lust. It's all consuming, what happens next, and Arthur finds himself making noises he's never made before.
Merlin's hands pull down his boxers and claim their prize. Arthur chokes and slaps his hand over his mouth because when has a hand on his cock ever felt like that? He hears Merlin chuckle and, panting in anticipation, Arthur feels the air ghosting across his sensitive flesh.
A warm heat envelopes just the head of Arthur's cock and soon he's crooning, as Merlin swirls his tongue and takes him deeper. He's mumbling all sorts of nonsense, saying things like "fuck" and "finally" and "so fucking hot" and more "fuck"s. And when Merlin starts swallowing, Arthur knows his finished. Warmth blooms in his groin and it's too much but not enough. He's sure he emits something shrill, because Merlin's lips tighten around him as he smiles and Arthur's hips hitch. He's so close right now it's not even funny. He feels like he'll spontaneously combust if Merlin so much as slows down.
And then Merlin's fingers tug slightly on Arthur's hips, and that's all the permission he needs to start thrusting into Merlin's mouth. And when he thinks he's cresting his climax, Merlin's moaning and it reverberates through his whole fucking body and his orgasm hits him ten fold, never ending and ever lasting and oh fuck that's so good and why has sex never felt like this before. Merlin's with him throughout, swallowing and sucking and stroking soothing circles on Arthur's hipbones.
He finally comes down from his high and opens his eyes (when the fuck did he shut them?). Languidly, Arthur's fingers wrap around Merlin's wrist and tug. He aligns Merlin flush with his body once more and brings their lips together. It's not desperate this time. It's chemical and twisting in the chest with complete longing and they're both wondering how they ever managed to meander through life without this.
His hand finds its way down Merlin's chest and winds around his cock, still hard and pulsating. Their kiss stops short with a gasp and Arthur watches with arousal blooming deep in his stomach as Merlin's eyes roll back and his lips form an "o". The sight alone is enough to set Arthur off into another horny frenzy. He sets a slow pace, pumping him with a twist at the head, until Merlin whimpers in what could be pleasure or frustration or both. When Merlin begins the frantic bucking, desperate for release, Arthur places a gentle hand on his hip and pushes him down. Whining, Merlin glares. And what he utters is so totally wrecked that Arthur's hand stutters and he has to brace himself for the jolt of complete sex that courses through him.
His breath is stolen from him and he stops completely. Merlin, indignant, basically sobs but is quietened by Arthur shoving his fingers in his mouth. They both know what that implies. Fingers. In. His. Mouth. Oh god. Christ, this is escalating quickly and he's so turned on he's feeling nauseous. After a pause, Merlin sucks Arthur's fingers and his breath quickens. Abruptly the fingers leave his mouth and the next thing he knows, Arthur's hand has closed around him, moving rapidly and evenly. Arthur leans down and kisses him fully, stealing the whinges away from him and filing them in his brain for future wanks.
Merlin's shocked yell is enough for Arthur to realize he has taken them both by surprise. Because he's still new to this, and breaching a bloke's hole isn't something one does to just anyone. He doesn't even enter, he just places his finger on top of it and hesitates. Merlin sighs out in utter ecstasy and it's enough for Arthur to slide in the first finger. He'd stay like this forever if he could hear Merlin make that noise again.
Merlin's hips jerk in encouragement and he's filled as Arthur inserts fingers two and three. The hand on his cock is gone and Arthur's using it to hold himself up. He's concentrating so hard that Merlin's almost endeared, but Arthur quirks his fingers and he's seeing white and crying out. Pleasure sparks through him and "Arthur" becomes a mantra. Desperately, Merlin takes himself in hand, timing his movements with Arthur's experimental pace. Picking up speed, Arthur pulls his fingers out, then presses in again and hooks inside, resulting in what can only be described as the epitome of sex. Arthur's relentless then, thrusting in and out while Merlin pumps his own cock shamelessly. And just as their hands perfectly synchronize, Arthur latches onto Merlin's inner thigh and sucks. And Merlin's there, his vision blurring on the edges as he comes endlessly with a droned out "Arrrthurrr" melodically filling the room.
Arthur collapses on top of Merlin and they both breathe together, steeping in the gloriousness that has just occurred. Merlin, ruined as fuck, has his eyes closed as Arthur pulls back and presses his lips against his jawline. Merlin breathes out sharply and leans into him, a deeply satisfied smile gracing his features.
"Arthur," For the umpteenth time, and his name has never sounded more sexy. He doesn't continue his train of thought, because all coherency has shot out of his head, so Arthur chuckles and brushes his lips against Merlin's temple.
"I think," Arthur whispers, "it's safe to say you've successfully caused me to deviate from the path of heterosexuality."
Merlin huffs out a laugh and lolls his head to the side, opening his eyes to look at Arthur. "Mission accomplished, then."
Arthur scoffs, "Oh please, you had no bloody idea what I was thinking until you felt it against your thigh."
"Mmm," Merlin grins and Arthur's heart trebles. "I'd like to say my shaggability was what deviated you from that path."
Arthur deadpans, "Okay, now "shaggability" is definitely not a word."
"It is, look it up."