[Fic] Out of the Cold (NC-17) Merlin: A/G
Okay guys, please don't hurt me for this. XDDDDD The bug bit and I couldn't resist! This came from a full day of RPing Arthur/Gwen. It was bound to be a bad influence on my psyche!
Also, yes, this does mean I haven't worked on anything actually due at the end of the month.
Oops? *G*
Title: Out of the Cold
Author: faynia
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Gwen
Word Count: 1321
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The stench of sweat and blood hung on him as he stripped bare, removing all traces of battle and resulting peace from his skin.
A/N: Written for Michelle, who is an honest-to-goodness pest of the highest order and beta read by auroraprimavera. All other mistakes are my own.
Arthur tore off his armor, piece by piece, depositing it along the floor as he crossed to the far-side of the room. The stench of sweat and blood hung on him as he stripped bare, removing all traces of battle and resulting peace from his skin. Free of it all, he sank down beside the steaming tub and quirked a brow.
He stretched out a hand and tapped the hollow indent of his wife's cheek and her eyes fluttered open.
"You're back!" Gwen cried, slipping further into the water. She resurfaced with a sheepish smile. "I mean, well, of course you're back, but you're here."
"Of course, I'm here. Don't be daft, Guinevere." He knelt beside her and cupped her hand between his dirty, mud encrusted one and brought it to his lips. "I'd hardly go and see my advisers first."
Gwen grinned and rested her chin on the rim of the tub. "Yes, but Merlin won't like that."
"Merlin can wait."
"Oh can he." Gwen stretched as much as the tub would allow and the bump of her stomach surfaced above the water for the briefest of moments. Arthur's breath caught at the sight and without thinking, he brought one of his hands down over the sloping mound.
"Yes, he can," he insisted, dragging his eyes from where his hand was dirtying Gwen to meet her steady, if not amused, gaze. She couldn't know his thoughts in that moment. Or how many hours he'd spent in the last two months sleeping on frost hardened grounds thinking of coming home. Home to her and this. His fingers crooked over her stomach as if he could caress the unborn babe through her skin. He bent forward, chest hovering just above the water, and caught the surprised gasp that passed her lips.
She curled her arms around his neck, arching into his mouth and it was all Arthur could do to keep his hands right where they were. The pads of his fingers danced over her taut stomach, feeling the changes with dawning amazement. Gwen pressed toward him, urging him down into the water with her and he went willingly. Arthur tilted his head, breaking the aching kiss with a shallow breath.
"Arthur?" Gwen murmured, stretching beneath him. Her foot brushed along his calf, teasing. Something she never would have dared in the first weeks of their marriage. But her eyes, dark and worried, made his heart clench tight. "Arthur, are you..."
He kissed her chin to silence her and reached back to remove his boots. They fell with a heavy thunk onto the stone floor, toppling onto their sides.
"Be quiet, Guinevere," he whispered against her skin, mouthing soft kisses along her jaw as he slowly lowered himself into the cooling water. He surrounded her, careful to keep pressure off her swollen abdomen and their child. Arthur shivered as he sank with a grateful groan into the tub, settling finally on her thighs. His muscles sang relief even as he straightened, dragging his lips over her steamed skin, kissing his way around her face in a flurry of distracting caresses.
Two months had changed her. Arthur flattened his hands over her hips, dragging his chipped nails over her soft skin. She startled, toes flexing, digging into his heels, and her hands moved to steady his face and bring him back into focus. He gazed down at her, watching her eyes crinkle at the edges when she smiled at him. And he realized, with a sharp jolt, that she was the first person to genuinely smile for him since the whole sodding war began.
They were lucky, so damn lucky to have made it from that battle alive and his men had been exhausted and worn thin from day long skirmishes in the springtime mud. Everyone had simply wanted to go home. Arthur, more than anyone, had longed to return home. There would be those who would be ungrateful for his return. Those who longed for nothing more than to ring the death toll one more time and see the end of the Pendragon reign.
Arthur knew his luck only held while someone trusted in him. Guinevere, Merlin, they carried him; had for many years, if he cared to admit it. They were the ones to remind him that he belonged where he was. Even when he didn't fully believe it. These weren't his enemies he was fighting, but the remainders of his father's.
Gwen combed water-wrinkled fingers through his sweat-matted hair and brought him in for a chaste kiss. She knew where his thoughts had drifted. Arthur saw it in the small frown that appeared on her lips.
He drew forth a smirk, as haughty as any he'd given before and kissed the tip of her nose until she began to smile for him. Arthur drew back, taking in her dark skin submerged beneath him, the way her chest rose in fell, quicker as each second passed and he made no move. His thumbs stilled their slow-creeping journey toward the apex of her thighs. She wiggled her hips to get him to move, breaking the stillness of the water. Some sloshed over the sides of the tub, pooling around the base.
"Arthur, please."
Who was he to resist that summon? He raised a hand to her fanned out hair, tangling the brown curls around his fingertips as his other hand dipped between her thighs and pressed upward. She shuddered around him, head tipping back over the edge of the tub, exposing her throat. He massaged the base of her skull and licked a straight path down her neck, pausing over her pulse point.
Water splashed over their skin and onto the cold floor as they moved. Gwen arching and twisting over his fingers again and again, bearing down as he pushed up, thumb pulsating against her nub with increasing pressure. Her legs spread as far as the tub allowed to urge him on and Arthur swallowed a near sob as she rubbed up against him. He bent to kiss her stomach as she bowed toward him and he swore, just in that moment, he could feel the flutter of movement that wasn't his wife's against his lips.
Gwen's shuddering gasps increased as she brought her knees in hard. Her lower lip was puffed from where she'd been biting it, now long past keeping herself quiet. She was gorgeous, Arthur thought, moving his fingers faster, taking her closer to the edge. Beautiful in the dimming candlelight of their rooms. The sun had long set behind the castle walls, drenching them in dark purples of twilight, but Guinevere shown in the glittering water.
Arthur kissed the top of her head in fierce movement, unwilling to let her go even while her muscles stiffened and locked. She jerked under him, bucking and twisting as her muscles fluttered around his sodden fingers, and then she fell still, drifting back to the bottom of the tub. Arthur shook above her, fingers tightening in his hair as he reached between his legs and brought himself over with her in a few quick tugs.
The muscles in his calves screamed as he straightened and dragged himself from the tub. He sat down in the puddles surrounding the tub, drained and weary, catching her hand once again. Arthur pressed a kiss to her palm, earning a sigh of gratitude. Soon, Guinevere's lady maid would come to check on her, help her from the tub, tuck her into her nightclothes and help her into bed. And when she came Arthur would be dressed and ready to face a room full of embittered men who waited for their king to address them.
For now...
"Don't wait for me," he instructed after a moment. "I'll be returning late, and I don't want you to become sick. Do you understand me?"
But when he looked at her, she had already drifted off to sleep.
Also, yes, this does mean I haven't worked on anything actually due at the end of the month.
Oops? *G*
Title: Out of the Cold
Author: faynia
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Gwen
Word Count: 1321
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The stench of sweat and blood hung on him as he stripped bare, removing all traces of battle and resulting peace from his skin.
A/N: Written for Michelle, who is an honest-to-goodness pest of the highest order and beta read by auroraprimavera. All other mistakes are my own.
Arthur tore off his armor, piece by piece, depositing it along the floor as he crossed to the far-side of the room. The stench of sweat and blood hung on him as he stripped bare, removing all traces of battle and resulting peace from his skin. Free of it all, he sank down beside the steaming tub and quirked a brow.
He stretched out a hand and tapped the hollow indent of his wife's cheek and her eyes fluttered open.
"You're back!" Gwen cried, slipping further into the water. She resurfaced with a sheepish smile. "I mean, well, of course you're back, but you're here."
"Of course, I'm here. Don't be daft, Guinevere." He knelt beside her and cupped her hand between his dirty, mud encrusted one and brought it to his lips. "I'd hardly go and see my advisers first."
Gwen grinned and rested her chin on the rim of the tub. "Yes, but Merlin won't like that."
"Merlin can wait."
"Oh can he." Gwen stretched as much as the tub would allow and the bump of her stomach surfaced above the water for the briefest of moments. Arthur's breath caught at the sight and without thinking, he brought one of his hands down over the sloping mound.
"Yes, he can," he insisted, dragging his eyes from where his hand was dirtying Gwen to meet her steady, if not amused, gaze. She couldn't know his thoughts in that moment. Or how many hours he'd spent in the last two months sleeping on frost hardened grounds thinking of coming home. Home to her and this. His fingers crooked over her stomach as if he could caress the unborn babe through her skin. He bent forward, chest hovering just above the water, and caught the surprised gasp that passed her lips.
She curled her arms around his neck, arching into his mouth and it was all Arthur could do to keep his hands right where they were. The pads of his fingers danced over her taut stomach, feeling the changes with dawning amazement. Gwen pressed toward him, urging him down into the water with her and he went willingly. Arthur tilted his head, breaking the aching kiss with a shallow breath.
"Arthur?" Gwen murmured, stretching beneath him. Her foot brushed along his calf, teasing. Something she never would have dared in the first weeks of their marriage. But her eyes, dark and worried, made his heart clench tight. "Arthur, are you..."
He kissed her chin to silence her and reached back to remove his boots. They fell with a heavy thunk onto the stone floor, toppling onto their sides.
"Be quiet, Guinevere," he whispered against her skin, mouthing soft kisses along her jaw as he slowly lowered himself into the cooling water. He surrounded her, careful to keep pressure off her swollen abdomen and their child. Arthur shivered as he sank with a grateful groan into the tub, settling finally on her thighs. His muscles sang relief even as he straightened, dragging his lips over her steamed skin, kissing his way around her face in a flurry of distracting caresses.
Two months had changed her. Arthur flattened his hands over her hips, dragging his chipped nails over her soft skin. She startled, toes flexing, digging into his heels, and her hands moved to steady his face and bring him back into focus. He gazed down at her, watching her eyes crinkle at the edges when she smiled at him. And he realized, with a sharp jolt, that she was the first person to genuinely smile for him since the whole sodding war began.
They were lucky, so damn lucky to have made it from that battle alive and his men had been exhausted and worn thin from day long skirmishes in the springtime mud. Everyone had simply wanted to go home. Arthur, more than anyone, had longed to return home. There would be those who would be ungrateful for his return. Those who longed for nothing more than to ring the death toll one more time and see the end of the Pendragon reign.
Arthur knew his luck only held while someone trusted in him. Guinevere, Merlin, they carried him; had for many years, if he cared to admit it. They were the ones to remind him that he belonged where he was. Even when he didn't fully believe it. These weren't his enemies he was fighting, but the remainders of his father's.
Gwen combed water-wrinkled fingers through his sweat-matted hair and brought him in for a chaste kiss. She knew where his thoughts had drifted. Arthur saw it in the small frown that appeared on her lips.
He drew forth a smirk, as haughty as any he'd given before and kissed the tip of her nose until she began to smile for him. Arthur drew back, taking in her dark skin submerged beneath him, the way her chest rose in fell, quicker as each second passed and he made no move. His thumbs stilled their slow-creeping journey toward the apex of her thighs. She wiggled her hips to get him to move, breaking the stillness of the water. Some sloshed over the sides of the tub, pooling around the base.
"Arthur, please."
Who was he to resist that summon? He raised a hand to her fanned out hair, tangling the brown curls around his fingertips as his other hand dipped between her thighs and pressed upward. She shuddered around him, head tipping back over the edge of the tub, exposing her throat. He massaged the base of her skull and licked a straight path down her neck, pausing over her pulse point.
Water splashed over their skin and onto the cold floor as they moved. Gwen arching and twisting over his fingers again and again, bearing down as he pushed up, thumb pulsating against her nub with increasing pressure. Her legs spread as far as the tub allowed to urge him on and Arthur swallowed a near sob as she rubbed up against him. He bent to kiss her stomach as she bowed toward him and he swore, just in that moment, he could feel the flutter of movement that wasn't his wife's against his lips.
Gwen's shuddering gasps increased as she brought her knees in hard. Her lower lip was puffed from where she'd been biting it, now long past keeping herself quiet. She was gorgeous, Arthur thought, moving his fingers faster, taking her closer to the edge. Beautiful in the dimming candlelight of their rooms. The sun had long set behind the castle walls, drenching them in dark purples of twilight, but Guinevere shown in the glittering water.
Arthur kissed the top of her head in fierce movement, unwilling to let her go even while her muscles stiffened and locked. She jerked under him, bucking and twisting as her muscles fluttered around his sodden fingers, and then she fell still, drifting back to the bottom of the tub. Arthur shook above her, fingers tightening in his hair as he reached between his legs and brought himself over with her in a few quick tugs.
The muscles in his calves screamed as he straightened and dragged himself from the tub. He sat down in the puddles surrounding the tub, drained and weary, catching her hand once again. Arthur pressed a kiss to her palm, earning a sigh of gratitude. Soon, Guinevere's lady maid would come to check on her, help her from the tub, tuck her into her nightclothes and help her into bed. And when she came Arthur would be dressed and ready to face a room full of embittered men who waited for their king to address them.
For now...
"Don't wait for me," he instructed after a moment. "I'll be returning late, and I don't want you to become sick. Do you understand me?"
But when he looked at her, she had already drifted off to sleep.