Merlin, laden with clean bed-sheets and clothing for Arthur stumbled into Arthur’s chambers, without knocking as usual. Clumsily, Merlin tripped over a belt that was on the floor.
“I swear that wasn’t here when I left last night. What a prat, I swear”, Merlin thought uncharitably.
But Merlin could never stay mad at Arthur for long. Even, when he was a sloppy, rude, selfish cabbage-head. Not with that golden hair, that curled at the nape of Arthur’s neck, just enough for the raven-haired man to want to run his hands through. Or his plump lips, usually pouting in mock despair as Merlin called him fat, or dollop-head, whatever struck Merlin’s fancy. Those lips were just plump and perfectly kissable.
Motion on the other side of the room interrupted Merlin from his reverie and sparked him to stand up and start collecting all of the linens that were now strewn across the floor of Arthur’s chambers. Upon seeing the source of the motion, Merlin's face flushed as he felt a tension in his trousers. He didn’t know why he didn’t just turn around and immediately leave, but something kept Merlin rooted to his spot.
Perfectly framed by the wide-open curtains, and back-lit by the light streaming in from outside, Arthur was shirtless. Even from this profile, Merlin noticed that Arthur’s hair was a mess as if it had been intentionally rumpled. With his eyes squeezed shut, and mouth forming a seductive “oh” shape, Arthur’s back arched, displaying the knots of muscles, concentrated in Arthur’s shoulders and upper arms. Merlin’s breath hitched as he noticed a sheen of sweat across Arthur’s chest.
Normally, even something as subtle as a change in Merlin’s breath would alert Arthur to his presence. Merlin normally didn’t let himself think too hard about this fact, because of the implications. Arthur was his master, his king, and his destiny. It would be unwise to become involved. Anyway, Guinevere was Arthur’s betrothed. She was the one meant to take Arthur’s virtue. Even if she did seem keener on both Morgana and Lancelot mused Merlin.
The noises Arthur was making at this moment was the more pressing reason why Arthur didn’t notice Merlin yet, even though in any other context, both people would have immediately noticed what was going on, and hurriedly halted the interaction.
As if there were stakes run through Merlin’s feet, fastening him to the ground, Merlin couldn’t look away.
Arthur was moaning, in between labored breaths. While most of it was incomprehensible “Ahh -Eff Mahh eaughh”, the words “Fuck”, “Merlin” and “Don’t Stop” came through. Maybe it was this, and the danger of what this could mean is what paralyzed Merlin. Merlin was now painfully aware of the fabric of his trousers, uncomfortably restraining his dick. He was also aware that this would be obvious to Arthur, had he not been otherwise occupied.
Seemingly of their own accord, Merlin’s eyes traced the outline of Arthur shoulders, wishing that he could nibble on Arthur’s shoulder blade. While imagining the taste of Arthur’s sweat, Merlin’s eyes traced down to Arthur’s butt, cheeks glimmering in sweat. Arthur’s right hand was pulsing back and forth, between his cheeks. Arthur’s left hand was pumping and his member, in and alternating rhythm. Merlin couldn’t tear his eyes from watching as Arthur rocked back and forth, with Merlin’s name on his lips.
Merlin knows he should not take so much pleasure from seeing his master like this. “I wish I was the one taking him, not himself.”, Merlin admitted, wondering what noises he could elicit from Arthur if he were to spell “Prat” with his tongue on Arthur’s back.
An involuntary moan escaped from Merlin, causing Arthur to rock faster. Merlin noticed that at some point he had involuntarily removed his shirt, and was now rubbing his own erection, over his pants, with his shirt.
He had also noticed that some point, he had ended up positioning himself in a dangerous position.
In a lusty haze, Merlin had positioned himself in front of Arthur, and was now on his knees, his mouth open wide.
“Ahh Ahhh” Merlin gasped, tongue out.