Fic : Through the Fog to You ; Written for camelotsolstice
Title: Through the Fog to You
Author: egotists
Recipient: nahara
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Arthur/Merlin
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,169
Summary: The pieces of gold / They light up your eyes / Now we're alone / Now we're alive
Author's Note: I apologize greatly for the lack in length. I really wanted to capture a small sequence of moments between the two. Using a slight hint of voyeurism and a picture prompt that had a display of nature covered in fog I took my note on that. Hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
Originally written for camelotsolstice.
It's hard to see through the over bearing fog, dream-like as the smell from the algae kissed pond sifts across the land. Merlin can just make out the shape of Arthur, tall and pristine. For all the times Uther may send his son questioning glances, Merlin wishes he could see Arthur now. It's oddly primitive, the way Arthur's muscles stretch in the open air, creamy skin rounding over flesh, his spine curving in a bow-like arch as Arthur lunges forward, thrusting the thick metal into the hazy moisture.
The day around them is unusually quiet, as if the birds and flowers and crickets are alongside Merlin, observing the future King. Merlin knows, even as Arthur twists his wrist in a seemingly careless swing of the sword, that he's completely under control. If the prince one day rules like he handles his weapons Camelot surely has a long and prosperous future ahead, beyond any border Uther currently has them residing in.
Like his grip (Merlin notices each finger, holding the sword firmly) he'd be a strong leader. Like his swing (controlled but free to hit the wind as it may) he'd allow the people to breathe, to choose and live and soar in a beautiful world Merlin can only imagine.
A break in the fog startles Merlin, and suddenly Arthur's staring right back. The Prince's blue eyes look a startling shade of deep gray, knowing and intimate as they smile back at Merlin.
"Well, are you going to hide there all day or what, Merlin?" Arthur speaks, his voice a warm bravado in the cool morning air.
Merlin comes from where he watched, exposed and in the open field. His steps feel heavy, like boulders pulling on his heels with each step. Arthur looks on, mocking the weight spreading through every inch of Merlin's body, from his fingertips to the bare edge of his toes.
"See something you like?" Despite the glow surrounding him Arthur's the same prat he always is, and a second between his laugh and an intake of air Merlin's right in front of him, eyes mapping the contours of his hard as stone, godly face.
Arthur's hand molds around his shoulder, the grip tight but hesitant all at the same time. Merlin answers without words, his fingers dusting along the angle of Arthur's chin and down until his palm rests over Arthur's racing heart.
It's ridiculous, to feel each beat like he can practically see the frantic thump through the Prince's chest. It's all full of want, needy and full of burden that the future brings. Merlin can't change destiny, there's no reason to try, and in a moment where they're both more naked then they've ever been without any item of clothing, Merlin steps closer.
Their lips meet, soft and pressing against each other. Merlin can taste the fresh strawberries from breakfast on Arthur's tongue and a hint of lingering wine from the night before.
"Hmn," Merlin hums into the kiss, Arthur smiling in return, the heat from his open mouth kissing it's way across Merlin's sun worn cheeks.
The space between them closes in once again, and their tongues tangle in a slow practiced dance. It's intimate, the stretch of Arthur's bare chest pressed to Merlin's clothed one, the way Arthur's fingers wrap around the strands of hair falling around his servants face.
"Arthur," Merlin whispers, breathing in the strong scent of sweat and a well grown man.
The Prince looks back, questioning with his eyes. Merlin's free hand moves slowly down Arthur's arm hanging to his side, pressing around the shape of his companions hand, feeling the perfect way their hands just fit.
"Got you," Merlin shouts, grabbing the sword from Arthur's now loose grip and spinning backwards to run through the wild flowers and into the fog.
"Merlin! Get back here!" Arthur's voice is stern, but every inch of his body reads otherwise. Who needs practice anyways?
Despite the head start Merlin's not far ahead, he's got the sword clenched in a clumsy stance that would make the King scoff with disapproval, but to Arthur it's endearing, so completely Merlin.
He turns to run and Arthur's right behind him, just inches behind each step. It's dangerous in hindsight, the way Arthur practically leaps onto Merlin's thin bony back, the sword just a flinch away from doing some real damage. But like a well trained swordsman Merlin holds it safe as they tumble to the ground.
The fog's just beginning to climb up and disappear as Arthur straddles the rough shape of his man servant's hips. "Who's got who now?" They smile at each other, uncaring and completely lost like the field is their own world. Forbidden as it may be, they embrace it without a worry or wrinkle in their foreheads.
Arthur's lips suck and lick at Merlin's neck, marking lightly at the crevice of the shoulder blade. His hand finds Merlin's, still holding the sword, and wraps around it like this means their future, as if just a few moments can promise forever.
Merlin's shirt is pushed up as they thrust gently against each other, moaning into skin and open mouth kisses. "Arthur, please," Merlin's voice is a desperate plea to Arthur's ears.
He climbs down the length of Merlin's lanky body, tasting along the edge of Merlin's hips, and up to the dip of his bellybutton. He begs beneath him, slow but accurate hips pushing the hardness of his clothed cock to where Arthur's mouthing him, firm and wet through the itchy fabric.
Arthur pulls, smooth movements leaving the fabric at the bend of Merlin's knees. The future king bites carelessly along Merlin's thin thighs, sucking in the skin in a way that makes Merlin practically purr.
It's almost cruel the way he moves to breathe across the tip of Merlin's cock, teasing with hot air before he finally lets his tongue dart out across the slit, collect the bead of precome waiting there.
Arthur squeezes where their hands are still tangled, his arm brushing along the cool metal before he finally shows mercy and takes in the tip of Merlin's hard cock. He moves down, collecting in as much as he can before pulling back. It's ironic the way he bows his head back down, praising his servant, sucking with desperate need.
Arthur inhales deeply, swallowing as much as he can and Merlin's stuttering in the air, his body shaking and his moan the only warning before he comes with a satisfied cry.
They lay in the now clear sun of the day, bathing in the heat of it's rays for what seems like forever but is only minutes. Arthur's still hard, his erection pressing against his pants. Merlin cups him gently, giving a pull before standing up and pulling the pants back over his thighs.
"Get back to work, you lazy prat."
Merlin wonders if he's ever seen Arthur so completely pissed, but it'll be worth it. Arthur is always better with his sword when he's under pressure.
Author: egotists
Recipient: nahara
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Arthur/Merlin
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,169
Summary: The pieces of gold / They light up your eyes / Now we're alone / Now we're alive
Author's Note: I apologize greatly for the lack in length. I really wanted to capture a small sequence of moments between the two. Using a slight hint of voyeurism and a picture prompt that had a display of nature covered in fog I took my note on that. Hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
Originally written for camelotsolstice.
It's hard to see through the over bearing fog, dream-like as the smell from the algae kissed pond sifts across the land. Merlin can just make out the shape of Arthur, tall and pristine. For all the times Uther may send his son questioning glances, Merlin wishes he could see Arthur now. It's oddly primitive, the way Arthur's muscles stretch in the open air, creamy skin rounding over flesh, his spine curving in a bow-like arch as Arthur lunges forward, thrusting the thick metal into the hazy moisture.
The day around them is unusually quiet, as if the birds and flowers and crickets are alongside Merlin, observing the future King. Merlin knows, even as Arthur twists his wrist in a seemingly careless swing of the sword, that he's completely under control. If the prince one day rules like he handles his weapons Camelot surely has a long and prosperous future ahead, beyond any border Uther currently has them residing in.
Like his grip (Merlin notices each finger, holding the sword firmly) he'd be a strong leader. Like his swing (controlled but free to hit the wind as it may) he'd allow the people to breathe, to choose and live and soar in a beautiful world Merlin can only imagine.
A break in the fog startles Merlin, and suddenly Arthur's staring right back. The Prince's blue eyes look a startling shade of deep gray, knowing and intimate as they smile back at Merlin.
"Well, are you going to hide there all day or what, Merlin?" Arthur speaks, his voice a warm bravado in the cool morning air.
Merlin comes from where he watched, exposed and in the open field. His steps feel heavy, like boulders pulling on his heels with each step. Arthur looks on, mocking the weight spreading through every inch of Merlin's body, from his fingertips to the bare edge of his toes.
"See something you like?" Despite the glow surrounding him Arthur's the same prat he always is, and a second between his laugh and an intake of air Merlin's right in front of him, eyes mapping the contours of his hard as stone, godly face.
Arthur's hand molds around his shoulder, the grip tight but hesitant all at the same time. Merlin answers without words, his fingers dusting along the angle of Arthur's chin and down until his palm rests over Arthur's racing heart.
It's ridiculous, to feel each beat like he can practically see the frantic thump through the Prince's chest. It's all full of want, needy and full of burden that the future brings. Merlin can't change destiny, there's no reason to try, and in a moment where they're both more naked then they've ever been without any item of clothing, Merlin steps closer.
Their lips meet, soft and pressing against each other. Merlin can taste the fresh strawberries from breakfast on Arthur's tongue and a hint of lingering wine from the night before.
"Hmn," Merlin hums into the kiss, Arthur smiling in return, the heat from his open mouth kissing it's way across Merlin's sun worn cheeks.
The space between them closes in once again, and their tongues tangle in a slow practiced dance. It's intimate, the stretch of Arthur's bare chest pressed to Merlin's clothed one, the way Arthur's fingers wrap around the strands of hair falling around his servants face.
"Arthur," Merlin whispers, breathing in the strong scent of sweat and a well grown man.
The Prince looks back, questioning with his eyes. Merlin's free hand moves slowly down Arthur's arm hanging to his side, pressing around the shape of his companions hand, feeling the perfect way their hands just fit.
"Got you," Merlin shouts, grabbing the sword from Arthur's now loose grip and spinning backwards to run through the wild flowers and into the fog.
"Merlin! Get back here!" Arthur's voice is stern, but every inch of his body reads otherwise. Who needs practice anyways?
Despite the head start Merlin's not far ahead, he's got the sword clenched in a clumsy stance that would make the King scoff with disapproval, but to Arthur it's endearing, so completely Merlin.
He turns to run and Arthur's right behind him, just inches behind each step. It's dangerous in hindsight, the way Arthur practically leaps onto Merlin's thin bony back, the sword just a flinch away from doing some real damage. But like a well trained swordsman Merlin holds it safe as they tumble to the ground.
The fog's just beginning to climb up and disappear as Arthur straddles the rough shape of his man servant's hips. "Who's got who now?" They smile at each other, uncaring and completely lost like the field is their own world. Forbidden as it may be, they embrace it without a worry or wrinkle in their foreheads.
Arthur's lips suck and lick at Merlin's neck, marking lightly at the crevice of the shoulder blade. His hand finds Merlin's, still holding the sword, and wraps around it like this means their future, as if just a few moments can promise forever.
Merlin's shirt is pushed up as they thrust gently against each other, moaning into skin and open mouth kisses. "Arthur, please," Merlin's voice is a desperate plea to Arthur's ears.
He climbs down the length of Merlin's lanky body, tasting along the edge of Merlin's hips, and up to the dip of his bellybutton. He begs beneath him, slow but accurate hips pushing the hardness of his clothed cock to where Arthur's mouthing him, firm and wet through the itchy fabric.
Arthur pulls, smooth movements leaving the fabric at the bend of Merlin's knees. The future king bites carelessly along Merlin's thin thighs, sucking in the skin in a way that makes Merlin practically purr.
It's almost cruel the way he moves to breathe across the tip of Merlin's cock, teasing with hot air before he finally lets his tongue dart out across the slit, collect the bead of precome waiting there.
Arthur squeezes where their hands are still tangled, his arm brushing along the cool metal before he finally shows mercy and takes in the tip of Merlin's hard cock. He moves down, collecting in as much as he can before pulling back. It's ironic the way he bows his head back down, praising his servant, sucking with desperate need.
Arthur inhales deeply, swallowing as much as he can and Merlin's stuttering in the air, his body shaking and his moan the only warning before he comes with a satisfied cry.
They lay in the now clear sun of the day, bathing in the heat of it's rays for what seems like forever but is only minutes. Arthur's still hard, his erection pressing against his pants. Merlin cups him gently, giving a pull before standing up and pulling the pants back over his thighs.
"Get back to work, you lazy prat."
Merlin wonders if he's ever seen Arthur so completely pissed, but it'll be worth it. Arthur is always better with his sword when he's under pressure.