tourdefierce: (TEXT: Dino Molestation)
[personal profile] tourdefierce
Title: Long As You Got Me (You Won't Need Nobody)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Word Count: 4,938
Summary: Merlin can have whatever he likes and Arthur puts his big boy in their lives.
Content Warnings: Consensual watersports including marking (peeing on your partner) and wetting (peeing inside your partner), non-consensual bed wetting, sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, feelings and language. (Please let me know if I've missed anything.)
Disclaimer: Clearly, I don’t own anybody or anything.
Author’s Notes: Um, so at some point two crazy things happened here: 1. I wrote watersports porn. 2. I borrowed the title/summary from a thug rapper named T.I. (YOU GUYS IT'S FINALS AND I'M PROCRASTINATING BUT I DON'T CARE BECAUSE I'MMA GONNA POP BOTTLES ALL NIGHT. You thought I was going to say HAVING LATE NIGHT SEX SO WET AND SO TIGHT, but I resisted.) Anyway, [ profile] eloquent_toast did the beta of this because I couldn't wait and I knew that she wouldn't be squicked by this. All remaining mistakes are mine.

The first time it happens, they're drunk.

Stumbling back to the castle is one messy blur of dark cloaks and Arthur's fingers pressing into his body, sweaty from drink and refusing to be subtle, despite the shine of the moon. They finally make it back to Arthur's chambers but only after stopping in an alcove to kiss messily and thrust uselessly against each other. In the back of Merlin's wine-drenched mind, he understands that they're being reckless. As a prince, Arthur could shag whoever he wanted but as King of Camelot, there are consequences.

But Arthur often forgets about the weight of the crown when Merlin is around and Merlin is too obsessed with Arthur’s relaxed, playful smile to be sorry about that.

Eventually, they're naked and pushing against each other. Arthur's swearing, fingers clumsy with drink and Merlin is giggling, thrusting and flailing—not being helpful at all. But it's alright because Arthur finally gets the length of his cock between Merlin's thighs. They're too uncoordinated to get Arthur inside and they're both too drunk to understand more than just getting off as soon as possible. So Merlin let's Arthur's bulk hold him down into the soft feather of the mattress and rut into the slickness of his salved thighs. In the end, Arthur thrusts so inelegantly—so unlike himself—that Merlin comes first, simply from the way Arthur moans and whispers Merlin, Merlin, so good, too good, Merlin over and over again. They're both so hypersensitive and Merlin's cock jerks into to the bed, the groan issuing from his throat is in pain as it is in exultation.

Holding his magic back when Arthur has him like this, fucked out and so insurmountably beautiful, is beyond difficult.

Instead, he focuses on the way Arthur grunts his name and snaps his hips into Merlin's soft arse cheeks. He focuses on the hot splash of Arthur's come between his thighs, slicking his balls with filthy spunk and wetting the entire expanse of Merlin's groin area.

It's disgusting, with Arthur panting wildly, breath stale with wine in his ear but Merlin doesn't care. He focuses on the real presence of Arthur as he clutches at Merlin's sides, threads equally dirty fingers through Merlin's hair and then passes out that way, stretched over Merlin's back. It's a bit suffocating but Merlin's just as drunk as Arthur and the weight of him, secure and very solid, makes his magic curl into something equally as tangible.

He falls asleep, Arthur snoring wetly into his neck, the wet spot from his own spent dick underneath him and dreads the clean-up in the morning.


The next time he wakes, it's hardly dawn. They haven't moved in their sleep and Merlin doesn't understand why he's awake because the pounding of his head reminds him that they both should probably be dead right now with the amount of wine they both consumed last night.

When he turns his head to check that Arthur is indeed breathing, he feels a splash of heat on the back of his thigh.

He lets out a choked sound, confused and hungover but what—

Arthur's still alive.

He's very much alive because he's pissing between Merlin's thighs.

The hot rush of urine on his skin matches the intense thrum of second hand embarrassment he feels for Arthur, who is still snoring along as his cock jerks slow and steady to the stream soaking Merlin's groin and the bed beneath them.

It should be disgusting, just like Arthur coming all over him, but it's not.

See, Merlin knows that Arthur likes to splash his come all over him because he's possibly a bit insecure about their relationship. Merlin likes to feel owned and possessed in a way that they'll never be able to express in public—not like a proper King and Queen. But in bed, when Arthur's face is wild with passion and he loses all semblance of control, jerking and twisting until he's coming inside of Merlin, or pulling out to come over his mouth, his neck, the swollen gape of his hole and the small of his back—he feels owned.

They like it. It's somewhat of a thing for them. It inspires a lot of dirty talk from Arthur and Merlin is not going to complain about that.

So really, this isn't any different.

But it is new and it does make Merlin so painfully hard that he has to whimper into the pillow, thighs tight as he rides out the last of Arthur's flow.

It's rapidly cooling in the air and Merlin's so damn hard.

By the time he slips out form underneath Arthur's unconscious form and hobbles to the bathroom, he's crying.

He jerks his cock into the anti-chamber's bedpan and cries with tiny little shaking sobs.


He makes it back to bed with humiliation shaking him to his core but when he stands over Arthur's sleeping body, he's decidedly not sorry.

He looks at Arthur, who's glorious in royal clothes and he's even more so naked. And here, he's glorious passed out drunk, having just pissed on his bedmate in his sleep.

And Merlin, well, Merlin just isn't sorry. He's embarrassed, maybe because it's hard to admit that he loves all parts of Arthur this much—that even Arthur's piss makes him flushed with arousal. But just like with Arthur's come, it makes him feel owned and precious and—

Merlin shakes his head.

He's too hungover to deal with this right now.

He spells the bed clean, and themselves as much as he can and then crawls back into Arthur's waiting arms.


The first time weighs heavily on his mind.

He thinks about it more than he should.

He rationalises it. He curses himself. He hates himself and then he looks at Arthur, bent over maps with a frown curling between his eyebrows and then he thinks: of course you want that part of him too.

So after a few weeks of mentally berating himself for wanting Arthur to pee on him in a very sexual way, he stops feeling guilty and starts plotting.

Merlin spends a lot of time working himself up into a state of horniness that has to be dealt with by blowing Arthur in the brief break between meetings or letting Arthur fuck him over lunch. It's not that they don't have a healthy sex life, because they do. They're young and Merlin has no qualms about taking advantage of the fact that no one sasses the king when he's late.

(Gwaine doesn't count.)

It's just that Merlin can't help but work himself up when he tries to think about what he wants. He knows that he'll be going to Arthur with this but he wants to be damn sure he understands why he wants this and what exactly he wants from this.

The humiliation that he felt afterwards wasn't fun and after running through a few scenarios in his head, he doesn't think the humiliation is what's making him aroused. However, he thinks about the way Arthur talks to him sometimes, when he's got his cock roughly shoved inside of Merlin—he thinks of the way Arthur's calls him a filthy whore and that makes him hard. When he thinks about Arthur pissing on him, calling him a shameless slut for anything he can get, even Arthur's piss, Merlin comes in four strokes and he almost passes out.

And so that's where it's grounded, he thinks, panting against the wall inside the armoury. He tucks his cock back into his breeches and feels a tendril of pride curl through him.

He's not ashamed of wanting this.


Merlin tries to time it so that Arthur's in a good mood but it's really not a subject that's easy to bring up. In the end, Merlin thinks that it must be a lot like pulling off a plaster or resetting a dislocated shoulder.

It's a calm night and Arthur has chosen to take supper in his room with Merlin. It's not unusual for them to dine together, not when Arthur has to consciously make time for them to be alone. More often than not, Arthur's dragged away on small campaigns that leave them surrounded by knights all the time.

Although it's good for Arthur to be around people who see him as their leader and their peer, Merlin really needs Arthur alone too.

Merlin's pretending to read, watching as Arthur pretends to be completely absorbed in eating.

Merlin's not reading.

"I've been thinking of pushing the training schedule back," Arthur says, wiping his hands on a cloth. "It's colder and I don't want anyone getting injured."

Merlin nods, still idly flipping pages every few moments. He's actually just waiting, working up the courage and knowing that yeah, the half-hard curl of his cock is more distracting than it is productive.

When Arthur drains his glass of water, throat working in huge gulps, Merlin is just staring. He knows what happens to that water, knows that Arthur's body takes all it needs from it and then it sits low in his belly, waiting to be released..

Waiting for Merlin.

"—but the way that Laerdian sits on the boarder—"

"Can I ask you something?"

Arthur arches an eyebrow that says, I'm not impressed. Merlin just stares back.

"Out with it, Merlin," he says with an impatient shrug of his shoulders. "It's not like you've been subtle."

Merlin blinks, watching Arthur settle back into his chair, pushing the plate away from him a little. He feels his cheeks heat.

"So I can... ask you something?"


Nervousness pools sharp in his stomach. "It's not a big deal."

"What is it?"

"It's—it's a thing," Merlin struggles, letting his fingers flick through the book for something to do.

"A thing?" Arthur's making that face that means he's concerned and annoyed and that's not at all how Merlin wanted this to go.

He let's out a frustrated sigh. "A sex thing."

This gets him two raised eyebrows and small smirk. Typical.


"It's just, there's something I want... to ask you, if I could," but then Merlin sputters off. Arthur frowns, leaning forward in his chair and Merlin looks away. God, why is this so fucking hard?

"If there's something you don't like, you have to tell me, Merlin. I can't—you aren't always as easy to read as you think," Arthur starts and Merlin feels blind panic.

"No! No! It's nothing like that," he says, shooting out of his seat. Only to find that he doesn't really know what to do with his body. "Arthur, you have to know that you please me."

The crease of Arthur's forehead disappears only slightly.

"Well, of course I do," he says but it lacks the usual display of arrogance.

"It's just..."

Merlin looks down at his feet. It wasn't this hard when Merlin was practicing in the mirror.

I want your piss, Arthur, he thinks but nothing comes out of Merlin’s mouth but an aborted little sound that only makes look concerned.

Concerned is not sexy.

"Merlin, come here."

There is nothing in Merlin's body that doesn't want to immediately obey Arthur. Part of Merlin thinks it's the magic inside of him that constantly wants to please Arthur because he was made to be next to him—to make sure that Arthur's dreams are possible. The other part of him just loves him.

Arthur's pushed back from the table when Merlin gets there. He still has that lazy sprawl of over privileged royalty, but his eyes are intent and his hands are soft where they guide Merlin to lean back against the table. Arthur's lips curl, sweet and just this side of arrogant and Merlin can't help but smile back.

He lifts himself so that he's sitting on the lip of the table.

Arthur stares back at him, obviously curious but not pressing.

"It's a sex thing," Arthur clarifies. "Is it something you want me to stop doing?"

Merlin shakes his head. "I'd never let you do anything that I don't want to do."

"I should bloody hell hope so."

Merlin nudges him with his foot until Arthur scoots closer and rests his elbows on Merlin's thighs, folding his arms until he can slouch his body to rest his head there on Merlin's lap. It's one of Arthur's favourite positions because there is nothing that makes him happier than Merlin's fingers tripping through Arthur's hair, carding through the silky strands and moving back to play with the tips of his ears and the soft skin of his neck.

Merlin's hands move there and he smiles, so fucking fond, when Arthur sighs into the touch.

"I know I'm not a servant in your bed," Merlin says softly.

Arthur hums. "So it's something you want?"

"Yes," Merlin exhales.

Arthur seems content with this and they sit there for a while. It's warm in the room with the fire keeping the cold winter at bay. Merlin strokes Arthur's head knowing that Arthur's just waiting for him to move forward. No rush, just the gentle steadiness of Arthur's breath.

"It's okay if you don't want to do it," Merlin prefaces.

"Merlin, I can't know if I do or don't wish to try it if you won't tell me exactly what it is."

Merlin takes a deep breath.

"I like it when you piss on me."

There is a pregnant pause where Merlin desperately wants to take it all back. But then Arthur tilts his head, Merlin's fingers resume their tracing of his head and Arthur meets his eyes.

"How do you know you like it?"

Merlin blushes. "It's just—" he's thought this part through because he couldn't tell Arthur about the bed wetting, lest his pride be wounded. Besides, Merlin had cleaned it up with magic.

"When you come on me and in me," he says, keeping eye contact with Arthur. "I really love it. I get so hard when I feel you—"

"I know," Arthur says, licking his lips. "I like it too."

"Which is why I think you'll like this."

There isn't a trace of judgement on Arthur's face. He's open and his eyes are sparkling with interest, but that may just be due to the fact that Merlin could feel the way his cock twitched against Arthur's arms when he talked about how much he liked the feel of Arthur's come on his skin.

"Have you been thinking about it?"

Merlin blinks. That wasn't what he expected.

"Have you been touching yourself to the thought of it?" Arthur doesn't sound dirty. He sounds like he's discussing tactical war strategies and not their sex life.

"Um, yes?"

There is amusement on Arthur's face but the high flush of his cheeks suggests something else too.

"What did you think about?" Arthur's voice is low but his tone is measured, like he's choosing his words very carefully.

"What do I—"

"What do you think about, when you think about me abandoning my chamberpot."

Merlin huffs out a laugh but Arthur isn't doing more than smiling a little thoughtfully.

"I just—"

Arthur raises his head. "I want specifics, Merlin."


"Do you want to drink it?"

"No," and it's the truth. He can see what could be appealing but no, not for him. It doesn't seem to fit into any of his fantasies.

Arthur nods. "Do you want—"

"I want you to fuck me," Merlin says, biting his lip. "I want you to fuck me but I don't want to come."

"And then I piss on you?"

Merlin takes a deep breath, his fingers sliding down out of Arthur's hair to trace his face. "No, Arthur I want you to piss inside of me."

Arthur gasps, eyes wide in shock. Merlin forces himself to study the face Arthur makes, the way his eyes go wide but he doesn't move away in repulsion.


Merlin shrugs. "I like the feeling when you come inside me, so why would this be different? I mean, it's so... it's so hot and—"

"I like coming on you because it means your mine. Like I've marked you," Arthur says, cutting him off.

Merlin smirks through his awkwardness. "Dogs relieve themselves on trees to mark their territory."

He continues to trace Arthur's cheekbones, the strong jut of his nose down to his soft lips. Merlin wonders why they're always so soft when he spends half the day chewing on them in concentration. It drives Merlin mad with desire half the time.

"Is it safe?"

Merlin nods. "It's not really any different than your come."

Arthur twists his mouth, looking as if he's deliberating over sums and Merlin smiles, wondering how he thought that this would ever be problematic.

"We don't have to," he says. "I just wanted you to know that I like the idea and that yes, I think about it."

"Let's do it."


Arthur rolls his eyes, undoubtedly wondering why a king should ever have to repeat himself. But then Merlin's kissing him, pulling Arthur up into the v of his legs so that they can kiss, deep and tangled.

Merlin takes his time, enjoying the way Arthur gasps and moans into the kiss. Their bodies line up pretty well with Merlin sitting on the table and Arthur grinds his crotch against Merlin's hardness.

"How," Arthur gasps out, when Merlin's wiggling out of his breeches and smalls, sucking a mark on Arthur's nipple at the same time. "How do you—"

"Here," Merlin says. "Bend me over and fuck me here."

Arthur groans.

It hardly takes any time for Merlin to end up with his arse in the air as Arthur works spit-slicked fingers inside of him. Merlin lets himself get lost in the feel of side of Arthur’s calloused hands spreading his cheeks and the sheer width of his fingers working open Merlin's tight hole.

"Come on," Merlin whinges, three fingers in. "Just—Arthur, please, fuck me, yeah?"

Arthur himself just groans, kissing the back of Merlin's neck and sliding his fingers out. There's a moment when Merlin hates the emptiness inside of him, but then Arthur's slicking his cock between Merlin's cheeks and arrogantly teasing Merlin's hole with the head of his cock.

"Prat," Merlin forces out, trying to thrust back but Arthur's hands are steadfast. "Arthur, just fucking fuck me!"

The pressure of Arthur sliding inside of him is familiar, a slight stretch and burn that quickly fades away, only to be replaced by the addicting feeling of being full. Merlin arches back, lengthening his spine and smirking when Arthur groans.

"Filthy minx," he groans, gentle and pleased. Where Merlin is more than willing to babble on through sex, mostly because he'll do it anyway the closer he gets to coming, Arthur is quieter. He's by no means silent, grunts and groans float across Merlin's skin the entire time. But he's not prone to speaking until Merlin puts in the effort to make him.

Arthur's pace is steady. He trails kisses everywhere he can reach, pounding into Merlin's arse with increasing speed and power, like he was waiting to make sure Merlin could take the girth and length of him. Merlin loses himself in the feeling, letting himself enjoy the prickling pleasure of Arthur fucking into him.

It's only when Arthur's thrusts get erratic, his breath ragged and moans louder, that Merlin comes back to himself in full. The anticipation is back, making his cock leak against his belly. Merlin braces himself against the table and rocks into Arthur's thrusts, basically fucking himself back onto Arthur's dick until Arthur curses, low and wet.

"Merlin, gods, Merlin, fuck—"

"Yes," Merlin pants, twisting one hand back to grab at Arthur's, which is forming bruises on his hip. "Come inside me."


"Come for me, Arthur, gods, you feel so fucking good," Merlin says and Arthur follows.

Merlin has to clutch at the base of his cock when Arthur spurts inside of him. It's slick but filling, the way he comes in tiny jerks of his hips and nuzzles Merlin's back like he physically can't stand the pleasure. His cock pulses inside of Merlin, twitching as he keeps coming and Merlin sinks into that feeling, enjoying the way it floods him with warmth.

It does make him feel owned—full of Arthur, with Arthur draping over him and every part of his body is thinking about Arthur—he's everywhere and it's perfect.

"It's so good," he hears himself say. "So good, Arthur. Give it to me."

Merlin braces his hands wide on the table, taking deep breaths and feeling his body tense with anticipation and the steady throb of his cock. He’s leaking steadily now, precome sliding down his cock as he feels the sloshing of Arthur’s come inside him--dick still holding him open.

He tried to focus on his own hard cock, on the tense coil of pleasure there, but his mind kept wandering to Arthur.

Who was panting, trying to catch his breath.

Who was going to piss inside of him now.

Holy fuck.

When was he going to start? Would he back out? What if they didn't like it? God, what if Arthur didn't like it?

"Arthur?" His own voice sounded too shaky and scared to his own ears.

"Shh, just—hold on, yeah?"

Arthur's voice is tentative but sure and Merlin nods. Arthur will take care of everything.

He wonders if Arthur felt that pressure—if he's focusing on the fullness of his body, the way that Merlin's just as full as Arthur's bladder but with his come—he wonders if Arthur's thinking about making him that much fuller.


"Are you sure?" He doesn't sound upset just hushed and intimate. Merlin moans.

"Please, please, Arthur," he cries out, softly. He can't help put clench around Arthur's cock. God, he wants it so bad.


"Please, give it to me. Please—"

The first splash is a shock and Merlin hears himself whimper, high and tight but then it feels like he's being flooded. His back bows, pleasure slicing through his body in all directions.

Arthur's pissing inside of you. He's pissing inside of you because you asked him to.

"Fuck, oh god, yes, oh god," he babbles, feelings the pressure build inside as Arthur splashes urine inside his body. He vaguely registers Arthur's soothing hands or the way his cock finally slips out from the pressure and, surely, Merlin's writhing body.

But then it's splashing over his arse cheeks and fuck, fuck—

"Gods, Merlin, look at you," Arthur gasps out but Merlin's coming, the feelings of Arthur's piss mixing with Arthur's come inside his body and then running down his thighs is too much. He can feel the way it flows out of him, wet and warm and gushing, slicking down the seam of his arse and spilling down his thighs in pulses.

The pleasure is blinding as his cock jerks of its own accord and comes without a touch.

He feels like he's riding an endless orgasm. His body twitching and spasming as more of Arthur dribbles out of him, each wave causing his cock to jerk and splash come over the table in front of him.

It's the best orgasm of his life.

When Merlin blinks, he's in Arthur's arms and they’re folded against each other on the floor in a messy pile of Merlin’s too gawky limbs and Arthur’s golden muscles (although his knees are just as bony). There's a sheet wrapped around them and Arthur's eyes and concerned.

"Are you—"

Merlin just smiles and kisses his mouth, surging forward. "Arthur, I can't even. That was the most amazing thing I've ever—" guilt floods him and Merlin holds Arthur's face in his hands. "Did you like it? Oh shit. I'm sorry. You didn't—"

It's Arthur's turn to blush. He pushes the sheet back to reveal his half-hard cock.

"It seems that I like pissing in you just as much as I like coming inside you," he says sheepishly. His cock twitches in interest.

"So you did, like it?"

Arthur nods. "The way you looked, Merlin. It was so difficult to do—"

"Wait," Merlin says, scooting until he's close enough to kiss Arthur's neck and shoulders easily. He wraps his hand around Arthur's too-sensitive cock and kisses Arthur's mouth. "Now keep talking."

"You're insatiable."

Merlin rubs his thumb on the underside of Arthur's cock. "Come on, you're the one that's hard. Tell me what it was like."

"It was so hard because I wanted to but you were so hot and sloppy with my come, being inside you was torture because my dick was so sensitive," Arthur pants out and Merlin nods, nuzzling down his jaw and pressing his face into his neck. He strokes Arthur's cock with featherlight touches, waiting for him to continue.

"But after I started, your back looked like I had smacked you. You were just, so tense and Merlin, the sounds, fuck, the sounds that you made when I—"

"Filled me up with your piss," Merlin interjects, biting at Arthur's neck.

"Gods, yes, when I," Arthur pants, struggling as Merlin jerks him off a little bit steadier. "When I fucked you full of piss, Merlin, you just made so many amazing sounds, like it was the best thing that had ever happened to you and I felt so proud, like I could do anything I wanted—you were so fucking beautiful."

Merlin doesn't have any words for that, so he presses a kiss to Arthur's nipple and enjoys the silky feel of Arthur's cock thrusting into his palm.

"And then I slipped out because you were thrashing all over the place, screaming on my cock and god, you really wanted it," he continues, breath completely mangled. "It spilled out of you, just like it does when I piss, coming down out of you and—your thighs. I couldn't stop though, I pissed right over it all, you should have seen your hole—where I fucked you open, you were dripping and soaking with my come and my piss. I couldn't help but pull your arse cheeks apart, spread you open and fuck, Merlin—"

Merlin has never been this turned on and not hard, in his entire life. His body is so spent but listening to Arthur like this is almost too much. He works his hand faster, listening to the sticky squelch of Arthur's precome over his fist.

"Did you love it?" Merlin whispers, moving to kiss Arthur's mouth and cheeks. Arthur's thrusting up into his hand now, desperate and wanting. "Did you love spreading open my arse and pissing there, right where I was overflowing with you? Did you see how wet I was for you? How much I came, without a hand on my cock, from the way it felt to be so full of you that I was leaking?"

Arthur's head goes back in a groan and Merlin watches as he comes, weakly pulsing into Merlin's hand and clawing at his shoulders and neck.

Merlin crawls on top of him and kisses him, too much tongue and enthusiasm, until they're both cold and realising just how dirty they actually are. When Merlin finally rises to call for a bath, Arthur catches his hand and tugs him back.

"I loved it," Arthur says, eyes wide and too-true blue. "I loved it."

He feels like the world is just now opening up to him and he has to stamp down his magic that threatens to burst from his chest. He loves this man—this amazing King and someday, he's going to be able to say that and more. Someday, Merlin's going to be able to tell him all his secrets and when that day comes, Arthur will be able to say whatever he wants.

For now, Merlin just smiles and says, "I love you" because Arthur can't, not yet, but it's enough for both of them.

♥ I love all of you, you hoodrats. ♥
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