The Night Arthur Finally Became a Man(aka. The Night Arthur Discovers Gay Porn and Sort of Likes It)
So, I wrote spontaneous porn? It's better than my currently non-existent wing!fic I started this afternoon.
Yeah.
♥
Title: The Night Arthur Finally Became a Man (aka. The Night Arthur Discovers Gay Porn and Sort of Likes It)
Author: faynia
Word Count: ~900 words
Pairing: Arthur, potential Arthur/Merlin
Warning(s): bad amateur internet porn/hentai
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Arthur really should have left that web-page after first click. Such a shame that he didn't.
Author's Note: I blame grapecase. She is a shameless enabler.
It began innocently enough. Arthur laid on his bed with his feet propped up against the wall, browsing the internet on his laptop when he accidentally clicked on a link that landed him in hell. Or would, if he stayed there long enough. He cringed when he thought of the dozen Mal-ware viruses he'd just collected, all the Spy-ware that would crash his computer and lock his files.
The images on his screen flashed as he ran his cursor over them, obscene flipping to an even more obscene image. Women with their legs spread wide getting hammered by a faceless man. Men jerking off their thick, leaking dicks into a fake vagina. A strange animation that had, dear fucking god, tentacles molesting a young girl's breast and poking beneath her skirt. It truly wasn't his fault that his hand slipped and the cursor clicked over the image of a man feeding his cock into another man's mouth. It was a purely random happenstance.
Though, it was possibly, perhaps his fault that he kept watching and didn't hit the 'x' that instant.
He flipped over onto his stomach, thumbing down the volume on his keyboard so the breathy groans, and not-so-breathy gasps, couldn't be heard through his bedroom wall. He rested on his elbows and his brow furrowed in concentration. He'd never seen someone deep throat that far, or seen anyone deep throat ever for that matter. It must hurt he decided, rubbing his own throat in sympathy before realizing what he was doing and shut his eyes, swiveling his mouse and clicking blindly. Anything had to be better than that. He should have known better. The sharp crack of a ruler smacking down over flesh had his eyes flying open fast.
Arthur cursed softly at the sight of a skinny, pale blond boy bent far over a desk that was, as far as Arthur could make out in the dramatic lighting, in the middle of fucking nowhere. His ass was redder than anything Arthur had ever seen and an older man was gently rubbing it in slow, soothing circles until he reared back with a suddenness that had Arthur's eyebrows arching and he brought his bare hand down with a slap that Arthur thought he could feel under his hands.
He ran his fingers back through his hair and shifted his hips, dragging the material of his football shorts across his cock. His fucking hard cock. Fucking brilliant. Arthur swore a blue streak and slammed the top of his laptop down and buried his flushed face into the pillow. What the hell was wrong with him?
Though, for those keeping score, when Arthur gave into the rash impulse to open his laptop again, it was entirely his fault. Clearly, he was having a mental fit that would need excessive examining later by a proper physician and not Merlin, who insisted his head cold had been the black plague and that he was going to die within twenty-four hours if he couldn't stuff some sort of stupid sugar pill down Arthur's throat to make him instantly better.
And of course he'd open his laptop on another fucking blow job. What was wrong with these people? Didn't they do anything creative? For that matter, Arthur longed to know why he gave a damn and why he watched the young boy bend back so far his toes were nearly tickling his ears, or why his eyes were drawn upward toward the twisted expression of false pleasure the older man was wearing or why the younger boys cry as he hit orgasm had Arthur thrusting downward into his bedsheets, drawing a ragged moan past his shocked lips.
The next three videos are neither a success nor a dismal failure, more like a research project. The amount of lubrication used is disgusting. The sets all seem to be the same damn bed and if he sees one more man suck down a dick like it's a chore he's going to call it quits, right then and there. But of course, he hadn't expected to be greeted by the sight of a gag and a cock ring and fucking hell someone's ramming a vibrator into an already loosened hole and muttering the filthiest fucking words Arthur had ever heard and the gagged man is groaning, begging, pleading for it to stop. The video is well over twenty minutes long and Arthur can't seem to take his eyes away from the screen for a second.
His hips roll in a slow, reluctant move, each thrust felt like a sin or a guilty little secret, but he can't stop. His body moves without his mind and his mind, well his mind isn't in a position to protest. He doesn't know how long he lasted before he felt his body curl inward and then spasm like a released rubber band, shaking and trembling and whimpering miserable little huffs of breath into the crook of his sweaty elbow. He twitches and jerks until his bedsheets are tangled around his ankles and he can hardly breath he has his mouth and nose pressed so hard into the mattress.
He blearily lifts his head and has the foresight to wipe his web browser history before exiting out completely and shutting the laptop one last time. He shoves it off his bed onto the messy pile of blankets that had fallen in his...fuck it. Arthur dropped his face back into his pillow. This was one of those stupid little secrets Merlin would never learn.
Yeah.
♥
Title: The Night Arthur Finally Became a Man (aka. The Night Arthur Discovers Gay Porn and Sort of Likes It)
Author: faynia
Word Count: ~900 words
Pairing: Arthur, potential Arthur/Merlin
Warning(s): bad amateur internet porn/hentai
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Arthur really should have left that web-page after first click. Such a shame that he didn't.
Author's Note: I blame grapecase. She is a shameless enabler.
It began innocently enough. Arthur laid on his bed with his feet propped up against the wall, browsing the internet on his laptop when he accidentally clicked on a link that landed him in hell. Or would, if he stayed there long enough. He cringed when he thought of the dozen Mal-ware viruses he'd just collected, all the Spy-ware that would crash his computer and lock his files.
The images on his screen flashed as he ran his cursor over them, obscene flipping to an even more obscene image. Women with their legs spread wide getting hammered by a faceless man. Men jerking off their thick, leaking dicks into a fake vagina. A strange animation that had, dear fucking god, tentacles molesting a young girl's breast and poking beneath her skirt. It truly wasn't his fault that his hand slipped and the cursor clicked over the image of a man feeding his cock into another man's mouth. It was a purely random happenstance.
Though, it was possibly, perhaps his fault that he kept watching and didn't hit the 'x' that instant.
He flipped over onto his stomach, thumbing down the volume on his keyboard so the breathy groans, and not-so-breathy gasps, couldn't be heard through his bedroom wall. He rested on his elbows and his brow furrowed in concentration. He'd never seen someone deep throat that far, or seen anyone deep throat ever for that matter. It must hurt he decided, rubbing his own throat in sympathy before realizing what he was doing and shut his eyes, swiveling his mouse and clicking blindly. Anything had to be better than that. He should have known better. The sharp crack of a ruler smacking down over flesh had his eyes flying open fast.
Arthur cursed softly at the sight of a skinny, pale blond boy bent far over a desk that was, as far as Arthur could make out in the dramatic lighting, in the middle of fucking nowhere. His ass was redder than anything Arthur had ever seen and an older man was gently rubbing it in slow, soothing circles until he reared back with a suddenness that had Arthur's eyebrows arching and he brought his bare hand down with a slap that Arthur thought he could feel under his hands.
He ran his fingers back through his hair and shifted his hips, dragging the material of his football shorts across his cock. His fucking hard cock. Fucking brilliant. Arthur swore a blue streak and slammed the top of his laptop down and buried his flushed face into the pillow. What the hell was wrong with him?
Though, for those keeping score, when Arthur gave into the rash impulse to open his laptop again, it was entirely his fault. Clearly, he was having a mental fit that would need excessive examining later by a proper physician and not Merlin, who insisted his head cold had been the black plague and that he was going to die within twenty-four hours if he couldn't stuff some sort of stupid sugar pill down Arthur's throat to make him instantly better.
And of course he'd open his laptop on another fucking blow job. What was wrong with these people? Didn't they do anything creative? For that matter, Arthur longed to know why he gave a damn and why he watched the young boy bend back so far his toes were nearly tickling his ears, or why his eyes were drawn upward toward the twisted expression of false pleasure the older man was wearing or why the younger boys cry as he hit orgasm had Arthur thrusting downward into his bedsheets, drawing a ragged moan past his shocked lips.
The next three videos are neither a success nor a dismal failure, more like a research project. The amount of lubrication used is disgusting. The sets all seem to be the same damn bed and if he sees one more man suck down a dick like it's a chore he's going to call it quits, right then and there. But of course, he hadn't expected to be greeted by the sight of a gag and a cock ring and fucking hell someone's ramming a vibrator into an already loosened hole and muttering the filthiest fucking words Arthur had ever heard and the gagged man is groaning, begging, pleading for it to stop. The video is well over twenty minutes long and Arthur can't seem to take his eyes away from the screen for a second.
His hips roll in a slow, reluctant move, each thrust felt like a sin or a guilty little secret, but he can't stop. His body moves without his mind and his mind, well his mind isn't in a position to protest. He doesn't know how long he lasted before he felt his body curl inward and then spasm like a released rubber band, shaking and trembling and whimpering miserable little huffs of breath into the crook of his sweaty elbow. He twitches and jerks until his bedsheets are tangled around his ankles and he can hardly breath he has his mouth and nose pressed so hard into the mattress.
He blearily lifts his head and has the foresight to wipe his web browser history before exiting out completely and shutting the laptop one last time. He shoves it off his bed onto the messy pile of blankets that had fallen in his...fuck it. Arthur dropped his face back into his pillow. This was one of those stupid little secrets Merlin would never learn.