tourdefierce | Fic: With Love From Camelot, Merlin/Arthur (NC-17)

Title: With Love From Camelot
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,354
Warning: Future!fic, cursing, dirty talk, general debauchery, crack, some level of fluff and most certainly boys in love.
Summary: Coronation!fic: wherein Arthur misses Merlin's bum, Merlin feels like destiny is screwing with him and James, Arthur's new manservant, gets an eyeful of the crown jewels. ♥ (Or, why no one in Camelot goes to a whorehouse because all they have to do is go to court instead--except Gwaine, but he likes the architecture and it reminds him of his mum.)
Author's Notes: This is for

lolafeist. I hope you had a lovely birthday, my dear. You deserve it. ♥ She asked for pretty much everything this fic is NOT. HA! I'm sorry. But I went with drunken!sex and just... ran with it. Forgive me?

marguerite_26 and

vesperdivum were my lovely betas. I can't thank them enough.

It all starts during Arthur's official coronation.

Arthur has been king since well before the coronation business, which is going on a very long list of things that Merlin loathes about court, but it's official now. After Uther's death, a magical war, taking over a few other kingdoms and basically—well, the last three years weren't easy. But things are softer now, magic is returning to Camelot in stages and the peasant reforms are going really well. The last harvest was amazing and Merlin's never seen Camelot so happy. It's just plain disgusting how in love Camelot is with Arthur and his stupidly shiny crown.

Anyway, it all starts with Arthur's bloody annoying and pain in the arse, erm, coronation of the highest order.

<3<3<3

Arthur is in a very pissy, very royal and very maddening mood.

"Feasts are ridiculous," he howls, disappearing into his wardrobe to throw around velvet and silk like they are worth nothing. "I should be in council or fighting a magical beast or hell, I'd rather spend a night with Gwaine in a bloody whorehouse—and risk catching whatever it is that makes him whimper when he pisses—than go to another blasted feast."

Merlin, who is sitting on the table and waiting for Arthur to figure out what he's going to wear, snorts and waits for Arthur to pause, then he says, "Nobody cares what you think".

Arthur's head pops out of the wardrobe.

"I will smother you with my royal cape."

Merlin can't help but smile. "You don't even know where your cape is, Sire."

Arthur pouts and Merlin takes a small amount of pity on him and goes to him, taking the clothing out of his hands and wrestling him into the fabric with minimal effort. Arthur continues to sulk, lips pouty and kissable and generally very distracting.

"Why are you making such a big deal about this?" Merlin asks as he's lacing up the ties on Arthur's wrist.

Arthur sighs. "This coronation business has been taking up so much bloody time," he says with a hint of true sadness that makes Merlin want to hug his adorable little blonde head. "I've practically forgotten what Leon looks like. I haven't seen him for more than twenty minutes in the past three weeks! Leon is doing more governing than I am!"

"Being a king is tiresome," Merlin says with a smile. Arthur just shakes his head and stills Merlin's hands where they're tying his other wrist. Merlin leans into the touch automatically. He knows they don't have time, that he was sent by Geoffrey to make sure Arthur wasn't late, but he's powerless when Arthur's warm and delightful fingers get thrown into the mix.

"Merlin, I haven't gotten to properly bed you for almost two fortnights," Arthur says, pulling Merlin in and burying his face into the curve of Merlin's neck, nosing the neckerchief out of the way. Merlin sighs in pleasure, letting his hands thread through Arthur's hair and keep him there.

"Is that what this really is about? You not getting laid?"

Arthur groans. "I miss your cock," he says pathetically. "I miss taking my time with you. I miss making you come embarrassingly quickly and that little noise you make when you swallow my cock. I miss it all. It's a truly awful feeling."

Merlin moves his hands to rub at Arthur's neck when he clings to Merlin's frame even tighter. Even though it's clear that Arthur is just being ridiculous, there is a certain amount of truth to his words. It's not like Merlin hasn't noticed the distinct lack of time for anything but royal dignitary meetings and other such none sense, like feasts or another crowning ceremony. But it's not like he could do anything about it. By the time he gets here in the morning, Arthur's new manservant already has him awake and taking council with his breakfast. They're lucky if they can sneak a hasty handjob in a darkened corner and spending the night together has been... completely and utterly nonexistent.

"I sleep awful without your elbow trying to puncture my liver," Arthur whines and Merlin hates coronation even more.

"Well," Merlin says, pulling Arthur's face out of his neck so he can kiss those still pouty, still kissable lips to his own. "Lucky for you, neither of us has been doing much sleeping as of late."

Arthur leans in for another kiss. It's soft and a little desperate and Merlin gives him what he wants, opening his mouth and letting Arthur sweep in with his tongue. It's comforting but they really, really need to go.

Merlin pulls back, drawing out a truly miserable whine from Arthur, who keeps them close with their foreheads pushing together.

"Tell me you miss me," Arthur says softly. "Tell me you want to magically take us away to some sort of sexy forest where all we have to do is run around naked and shag, all the time, or the balance of nature will be... you know, unbalanced."

Merlin laughs. "You truly are ridiculous when you don't get properly laid."

"Tell me you miss me," Arthur says again. "I miss you and your mouth, and your arse around my cock and possibly, you know, the way you steal all the bloody pillows and build a pillow cave in your sleep."

"You know I miss you," Merlin says with a smile, his hands going to lace up the last part of Arthur's attire for the night. "But there is nothing to be done. We can't put off kinging all of Albion for a shag."

Arthur makes a face. It's his fuck-destiny-I-want-to-eat-pudding-all-day-long face. Merlin moves away to open the door before his chest explodes, stops time and he spends the rest of his days trying to fulfill Arthur's wish to live in a forest where shagging like animals is their only duty.

"Come on," Merlin says lightly. "Time to go."

Arthur glares, grabs his sword and marches out the door as if Merlin is ordering him into battle.

<3<3<3

Everyone is more drunk than they should be.

Merlin scans the room, his own vision a little blurry from drink and his cheeks just as flushed as everyone else's. He takes in the truly sloshed knights, who are either touching each other too freely (Gwen doesn't look nearly as surprised to the location of Elyan's hands as Percy does) or are flirting with the servants and ladies in a manner that is going to lead to someone being laid up with child. The visiting lords and ladies are mostly gone to their chambers, having already taken enough mead with them to kill a small horse, and the ones who are left are going the way of the knights, making complete and utter fools of themselves.

It's hilarious.

Merlin smiles into his own wine cup, taking the time to nod at Gwen, who is letting Lancelot play with her hair and look utterly besotted in front of everyone. Merlin is sure that no one will ever let Lancelot live it down, there are practically hearts in his eyes, but the one who would take the most mickey is Gwaine. Luckily, he disappeared with Lord Tristan and Lady Charlotte—siblings who looked very interested in investigating the rumor that Camelot's knights are not only the best warriors in the land but also the best lovers.

Merlin is willing to make sure the court bard writes a song about Gwaine's sexual misadventures, just to please him on a rainy day.

As far as the king goes, he's pretty past the point of royal decorum as far as appropriate behavior and amount of drink. He's smiling a little too dopily and laughing a lot at whatever anyone says to him. Merlin's moved from his place by the knights to sit next to Arthur, so when he does make a fool of himself, Merlin will be there to help him.

Lancelot is composing a song about Gwen's eyes when Merlin feels a very warm, very Arthur-shaped hand on his crotch.

"Your highness," Merlin says, turning to stare at the side of Arthur's head. "You seem to have lost control of your limbs."

Arthur shakes his head, a frown appearing on his forehead but he doesn't turn away from where he's staring straight ahead. "My hand is where it belongs."

Merlin looks down at where Arthur's palm is massaging the head of his half-hard cock through his breeches.

"Arthur, you're fondling me in public."

Arthur pouts. "Everyone else gets to touch their loves," Arthur whines in a whisper. "I'm the king! The King of bloody Camelot and I should get to touch you."

"But someone might see!"

Arthur finally turns from the show Lancelot is putting on and leans down. In the moment, he looks fucking gorgeous; cheeks flushed with drink, eyes dancing with arousal and pride, mouth stained from wine and just generally, fiercely beautiful.

"Let them," Arthur growls, eyes roaming all over Merlin's body in such a way that Merlin can feel the weight of his stare across his skin. "Let them see me when I claim what is mine."

Merlin can't help it. He really can't. He goes fully hard underneath Arthur's hand, bucking up into Arthur's grip and stifling a moan.

By the look on Arthur's face, a wicked grin, Merlin's body is just going to encourage the prat.

It doesn't take long for Merlin to snap. He's rock hard, needy and desperate, and if he doesn't have Arthur's fingers—or really anything at this point—in his arse soon, he'll turn everyone into newts.

He really wishes he were kidding.

"If we don't leave soon," Merlin growls over the laughter of the court, "I will join Gwaine's bed mates out of sheer desperation."

Arthur tilts his head, as if he's listening to Merlin describe the accounts of the harvest. "You're feeling a little ragged, Merlin?"

Arthur's hand squeezes Merlin's cock. Merlin chokes on a moan.

"Arthur, I need you," he says, keeping eye contact until Arthur's lost his smug look completely. Merlin leans closer, pushing his hips into Arthur's hand. "I just need you to fuck me, Sire."

Arthur lets out a breath so jagged, Merlin's afraid his lungs have stopped working but then he turns back to the table.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I am going to retire for the evening," Arthur bellows in forced cheer. "Please continue the celebration in my stead."

Everyone shouts a couple choruses of 'long live the king' and there is a fair amount of giggling from everyone except for Merlin, who is trying to figure out how to get out of the hall without showing everyone the size of his cock. Luckily, Arthur abandons his cloak, going straight for the doors and Merlin makes the show of grabbing it and hurrying after him.

It's all a farce. Merlin's fairly sure that the whole court is too far into their cups to put two and two together but surely there is one fairly sober individual who noticed Arthur's blatant fondling. It's going to be a mess in the morning.

Merlin wishes he cared.

It takes all of Merlin's control not to tackle Arthur into a stone alcove. He waits patiently until they get into Arthur's chambers before he attaches himself to Arthur with desperate hands.

"What the fuck?" Merlin mutters, attacking Arthur's shirt. "You're an evil man, I hate you. I hate you."

Arthur laughs but it's tinged with something needy as well. "I just wanted you to feel my pain."

Merlin rolls his eyes and pulls off Arthur's shirt—god, it's a glorious sight. He wastes no time bending down to take a pert nipple into his mouth, laving it into a peak and then biting the nub until Arthur moans. There will be time later for love making and slow nights spent by candle light, Merlin is sure they will have many, but right now, he's not thinking of anything else but getting fucked.

When he pulls back from suckling at Arthur's nipples, he plasters their bodies together. Arthur's hands go directly to his arse, squeezing and kneading the flesh there and Merlin moans, his body buckling back into Arthur's hands while simultaneously trying to stay in contact with Arthur's hot erection that is digging into Merlin's belly.

"Arthur," he says, breathing into the skin of Arthur's jaw. "I really need you to fuck me."

The rest is a bit of a blur. They make it to the bed by some miracle, although Merlin almost gets strangled by his own breeches and not in the sexy way. Eventually they're naked, already moaning and thrusting against each other like over-excited stable boys but neither cares. It's only when Arthur slicks his fingers with oil and pushes two, without hesitation, into Merlin's body that everything goes into focus.

"Arthur," Merlin moans, back bowing with pleasure as Arthur doesn't bother to work the fingers in at all but shoves them into Merlin's body until everything is singing with pleasure that's white hot and furious. "Oh gods, Arthur."

Above him, Arthur just nods and pushes Merlin's thighs open to watch his fingers disappear into Merlin's body. Pleasure twists inside of him, in rhythm with Arthur's fingers, as he gasps at Arthur's face, taken with pleasure.

"I hate the taste of oil," Arthur says, wonder in his voice. "But I want nothing more than to eat you out, lick your entrance and watch you fuck back onto my tongue."

It's probably because he's drunk, but Merlin comes with a howl, hands fisting and flailing in the sheets as his orgasm is fucking ripped out of him. It's too much, too intense and Merlin's still writhing from the strength and surprise of it when Arthur is slamming his cock inside of him.

"Arthur," Merlin screams, pleasure and pain twisting together as his orgasm seems to continue, wrapping around him like it's going to choke him with pleasure.

"Tell me it's okay," Arthur pants, hips twitching with the desire to move. "Tell me I can fuck you into the mattress, Merlin. Oh god, you feel so good."

Merlin can only nod and Arthur barely waits for permission before he's canting his hips back and scrambling to hold Merlin's legs out of the way. Pleasure throbs everywhere and Merlin thinks he might be screaming constantly with the way his throat feels constricted with the too sharp pleasure of Arthur's cock, too big and hard inside of him, doing its level best to fuck him into oblivion.

It seems to go on forever, Arthur snapping his hips inside of him and moaning relentlessly, adjusting his grip on Merlin's body and taking what is his. Merlin looses track of time as each thrum of pleasure twists into pain and then melts back into blinding pleasure seemlessly. Where as Merlin comes embarrassingly quickly with a little wine in him, he forgets the way it makes Arthur fuck for hours, prolonging his orgasm so he can thrust into Merlin until they're both out of their minds and determined to wake up the whole castle with their carrying on. Surprisingly, he's almost hard again, just pliant and nothing but a slag for the push of Arthur's cock or the way Arthur's mouth looks around the moans he lets out above him.

"Arthur," Merlin whines, clawing at his shoulders until he leans down to kiss. It's savage, just like the place where they're joined and Merlin moans into the kiss, feeling desperate. The change of angle sparks something inside of him and Merlin's eyes go impossibly wide from the new feeling.

"You're getting hard again," Arthur says roughly, fucking in smooth strokes. "Just from my cock."

"Oh gods, Arthur, shut up," Merlin moans but Arthur's already smiling, sharp and smug, above him. Merlin bites at those smiling lips but it only seems to encourage Arthur.

"Tell me you missed my cock," Arthur pants. "Tell me you shoved your fingers in as a substitute and ached for me."

"Fuckin' hell!"

Arthur's hips go frantic, hips slamming into Merlin's body with a force so great, he' knows he'll feel it for days. Merlin just tightens around him, fucking into Arthur's mouth with his tongue and sucking on his lips when he can.

"Tell me how much you love this," Arthur continues against Merlin's mouth. "Tell me the world's you'd conquer for my cock claiming you. Oh fuck yes, Merlin. You feel so good, so perfect. Tell me you love it, tell me you love—"

"You, oh god, you," Merlin says, meeting Arthur's hips with his own desperate motion.

It all happens in slow motion, Arthur thrusts again, banging Merlin's head against the headboard as he comes. His hips still for a fraction of a second, come slicking Merlin's channel, before he fucks into Merlin and rides out his orgasm. He's almost silent, letting out a choked moan as Merlin follows him over the edge, the feeling of his come hot and branding inside of him—how it will paint his thighs. This time, when Merlin comes, it's softer and less surprising. It rolls into him, eyes wide as he doesn't want to miss a second of Arthur's climax. His face, sweaty and flushed, is written over with pleasure—relaxed and happy—and Merlin takes his own pleasure in knowing that he is the cause of Arthur's complete and total release.

Arthur collapses on top of him, come literally squelching between their bodies, in the most disgusting sound Merlin's ever heard.

"You came," Arthur mumbles, "twice. I am awesome."

Merlin snorts, too tired to fight Arthur's ego. "Yes, well—"

"You missed me."

Merlin flicks his ear. "Of course I did, you prat."

Everything goes hazy and bliss-ridden as time expands, both of them melting back into the mattress.

"We should clean up," Merlin says absently, stroking Arthur's hair. He can feel come everywhere and it's really not as glamorous as Arthur would like to think his semen is. It's sticky and gooey and totally sexy when they're actually having sex but when they're not, it's just gross.

"I missed you," Arthur mumbles, not moving as Merlin tries to get them up. He's a dead weight on top of Merlin, snuggling into him and rubbing his body like a cat, all over Merlin's. "Missed your elbows the most, though."

"Oh Arthur," Merlin says but his only answer is a snore.

He cleans them up with magic, already feeling the pull of Arthur's rhythmic breathing. He settles more firmly onto the pillow, Arthur still trying to suffocate him with his bulky body. Merlin tries to hate it. He tries to be annoyed but he can't be, not with Arthur making little snuffling sleep noises and clinging to Merlin like he's the only thing in the world that matters. Sometimes, in moments like these, Merlin's convinced that they are the only two people who matter.

It's going to be hell tomorrow. They'll be hungover; Arthur will wake up horny and already nudging his way into Merlin's body before Merlin's even opened his eyes. They'll be really getting into it, Arthur mumbling his worship of Merlin's arse and all the filthy things that come to his mind when he's shoving his cock into Merlin's body and then James, Arthur's new manservant will walk in to ruin everything. There will be yelling and goblet throwing and someone will accidentally come and Arthur will pout and sulk and want his cock sucked all the time for the next two weeks. The castle will hear it all, the fall-out will be huge and Arthur will probably have to hold another feast to smooth it all over that he's totally buggering his warlock all over the castle and if anyone has a problem with it, Merlin will turn them all into newts.

It'll be really time consuming and they'll never get to shag as much as Arthur wants. It'll be wonderfully domestic and everything Merlin has ever wanted, or dreamed he could have, in a destiny.

Before he falls asleep, Merlin leans down and kisses Arthur's elbow, rubbing his cheek against the pointy bone. "I missed your elbows too," he says before letting sleep capture him.