~*~
~*~
Arthur pulls on Merlin's hair harshly, futilely trying to force Merlin's head back. Merlin tsks at him, placing another wet kiss on Arthur's hole, then standing up. Arthur whines unhappily.
“Hands on the desk, Arthur,” Merlin growls.
“Please, I'm so close,” Arthur begs, his hands already on the desk, crumpling the reports Freya brought in earlier. Merlin just hums noncommittally as he lifts Arthur's feet from his chair up on the table, making Arthur lean back further and spread his legs more, effectively putting him on display on his own desk. He tugs on Arthur's tie, to pull him close enough for a kiss. The end of the tie ghosts over the head of Arthur's cock, the lightest of touches that makes Arthur moan into Merlin's mouth nonetheless.
“I don't think you should come yet,” Merlin muses out loud. “It's still work hours, isn't it? We should set an example for others, put in the appropriate work hours, don't you think?” He sounds so calm and unaffected, despite the bulge in his jeans that Arthur can clearly see. “Someone could walk in, maybe to hand in a last-minute document or say goodbye,” Merlin says. “Is that what you're thinking about? The door is not locked. Anyone could walk in,” he reminds, whispering in Arthur's ear. “What would your employees say? If they saw you like this, wearing only your tie,” he yanks on Arthur's tie harshly, “legs spread for me, open and ready to take me?” He cups Arthur's balls, his fingers stroking behind them. Arthur throws his head back and chokes out a sob. “Shhh,” Merlin coos, “do you want them to hear you?”
“Oh, god, no,” Arthur groans, his arms giving out. Merlin pulls on his tie, and helps him stay up. He tugs on the tie, closing it around Arthur's throat and Arthur coughs. Merlin lets him struggle to breathe until the lack of air is becoming seriously uncomfortable, and only then loosen the knot around Arthur's neck.
“What would you say if someone found us, hmm?” Merlin wonders, letting go of the tie and caressing Arthur's stomach instead, his hand venturing close to Arthur's cock, but not touching. “Would you try to explain yourself?”
“Hnngh,” is the only response Arthur can manage when Merlin's fingers carefully encircle his erection and run down it teasingly. The touch has Arthur jumping and one of his feet slipping off the edge of the desk. He obediently lifts it back up when Merlin taps on his knee.
“You know what I think? I think you're too far gone, I think you wouldn't even notice if someone walked in. I think an army could parade into your office and you'd still only have eyes for me.”
“Oh, fuck,” Arthur moans, falling back on his forearms. There's a pen digging into his back that he completely ignores. He thinks Merlin may be right. He doesn't know if the prospect of being found in such a compromising position is thrilling or mortifying, but that's half the fun.
Merlin leans over him, the height difference allowing him to be able to whisper directly into Arthur's ear without touching him anywhere else. Arthur's hips hitch up in frustration, his cock brushing over Merlin's shirt and smearing pre-come on it.
Merlin's eyes flash. “I should punish you for that,” he warns, his hand going past Arthur's cock and balls, his finger pressing against Arthur's opening, the threat clear.
“Unnngh,” Arthur groans, shaking his head. He's open enough but he doesn't think he'd enjoy taking Merlin's fingers with no lube at all.
Merlin cocks his head to the side. “I'm feeling generous,” he says, though Arthur knows he wouldn't have done anything without Arthur's permission. He fishes a packet of lube out of his jeans, opens it with his teeth and squeezes the clear gel out on his hand. He lowers his hand between Arthur's legs before Arthur can see what he's doing. Arthur stares at his face, trying to divine Merlin's intention, but Merlin just smiles cryptically at him. Arthur can hear the wet sound of Merlin's hand, his fingers sliding together, and the anticipation of what's to come is killing him. He huffs a breath through his nose and rolls his hips, trying to get Merlin's attention. “Impatient?” Merlin asks. He keeps looking at Arthur until Arthur realizes he's expected to answer this time. He needs a moment to remember how to speak in words.
“Yes,” he answers hoarsely.
“Good,” Merlin says with an approving smile. Arthur relaxes fractionally, distracted from the thoughts of what Merlin will do next for just long enough that Merlin slides one whole finger inside him. Arthur bites down on his lip so as not to cry out. He's so wound up he think he could come apart under Merlin's hands with only a few more touches. Merlin knows this, which is exactly why he's not touching Arthur the way he wants. Arthur is both grateful and sorry Merlin knows him so well.
“Merlin, please,” Arthur whimpers.
“Please what?” Merlins asks, touching his forehead to Arthur's.
It's clearly a rhetorical question because Merlin won't be able to see the answer like this, but Arthur so past logic he answers anyway. “Move, touch me, fuck me, do something, please, I need to come.”
Merlin's finger moves slowly inside him. “Is this what you want?” he breathes into the space between them. “Or maybe,” he crooks his finger up, pressing against Arthur's prostate, “this?”
“Oh, oh, oh, oh,” Arthur chants, his cock twitching and he's so ready to come, but Merlin pulls his finger out. Arthur could cry from sheer frustration.
“Or this?” Merlin asks, punctuating the question with two fingers pressed against Arthur's hole.
Arthur grabs at Merlin's hair and tilts his head so they can see each other's face. “Yes, god, yes,” he says.
“Hands, Arthur,” Merlin chides gently. Arthur puts his hand back down, grabbing at whatever he can find on his desk when Merlin shoves both fingers inside him roughly. He cries out. Merlin doesn't wait for him to adjust, pumping his fingers in and out of Arthur at a brutal pace.
“Fuck, Merlin,” Arthur moans, fighting his body's reaction to move away.
“Is this what you want?” Merlin asks, sounding a little winded himself now. He scissors his fingers and rolls them around, pulls them out enough to stretch Arthur wide open and Arthur lets out a completely undignified sound. “Oh, you're loving this, aren't you,” Merlin coos. “Could you come like this? Could you come on just my fingers?”
And yeah, Arthur could, he could come from nothing but Merlin's words at this point, the filth spilling from his mouth in that deep, roughened voice making Arthur hot all over. One of his legs falls off the desk, and Merlin lifts it up to rest on his shoulder. When he leans over he pushes Arthur's legs open wider to the point of discomfort, and Arthur delights in the stretch.
“Do you want more?” Merlin asks. “Hmm, I bet you do. I bet you can't get enough.”
The third finger goes in easily. Arthur doesn't think he could offer up any resistance if he wanted to, and he doesn't. He wants to lie down and let Merlin do whatever he wants to him, wants to wipe his mind blank if only for a few minutes, and just get lost in what Merlin is doing to him. He falls back onto his desk, knocking a box of paperclips off with his head. This time Merlin lets him. Not stopping the slow push of his fingers in and out of Arthur's ass, he bends over and bites at one of Arthur's nipples. Arthur wants to shout, but he doesn't have the strength for more than a grunt. He stares at the white ceiling above him, letting all the thoughts leech out of his brain.
“Oh god, look at you,” Merlin breathes into his skin. “You're so gorgeous like this, I wish you could see.” The fascination in his voice grows exponentially as his voice gets further away. “Fuck, Arthur, if you could only see how stretched you are around my fingers,” he says somewhere at the level of Arthur cock, his warm breath ghosting over the leaking tip. “I'm gonna add another,” he says, his little finger already pushing at the rim. Arthur only manages the quietest of sounds when he feels Merlin's fingers moving inside him and fuck, but that's almost Merlin's entire hand and he's never been so full before and there's nothing else he think of right now, and that was precisely the point.
His hips start moving, pushing against Merlin's hand, then away, on their own accord and Arthur can feel it coming, the temperature rising and his legs quivering and his breathing quickening. He reach out and grabs Merlin's hand in warning.
“Yeah, go ahead, come,” Merlin says, letting his head rest on Arthur's hip, his hand still moving in and out of Arthur. He traces his thumb over the rim and moans. “Fuck, I think I could put my whole hand in there, god, it's so beautiful, Arthur, just imagine yourself taking my whole hand in there, fuck.”
Arthur chokes on a sob as he comes, his hips flying off the table and Merlin's fingers slipping out, leaving him suddenly empty and clenching on nothing. His cock spurts come over his chest and tie, untouched.
“Fucking hell,” he hears Merlin whisper, before his mind goes completely blank. For a while, he keeps his eyes closed, tries to even out his breathing. He can feel his ass still twitching and Merlin's breath is suddenly warm and damp on his lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Merlin keeps repeating. A drop of sweat falls on Arthur's cheek and Arthur opens his eyes slowly just in time to see Merlin's face screwing up as he comes, spilling over Arthur's cock, which twitches weakly in response. Merlin's head falls to Arthur's shoulder as he catches his breath. “God, Arthur, what are you doing to me?” he laughs. Arthur can see his arms are still shaking when he lifts himself off Arthur and stands up. He tucks himself in and zips up his jeans, then helps Arthur up. He rubs Arthur's legs until all feeling returns to them. “Feeling better?” he asks, taking a tissue out of Arthur's drawer and wiping the mess off Arthur's skin.
“Yes,” Arthur replies simply, his shoulders relaxed and his back pleasantly achy. “Thank you. I needed that,” he adds, touching Merlin's face gently.
Merlin kisses the corner of his mouth as his hands work on undoing Arthur's tie. “For that? Any time,” he says with a grin.
“Where did you even learn to talk like that?” Arthur laughs, combing Merlin's hair away from his face with gentle fingers.
“It's easier when you can't hear yourself,” he says with a shrug of a shoulder. He kisses Arthur again, licking past Arthur's slack lips and claiming his mouth. Arthur closes his eyes and lets Merlin dominate the kiss with no fight. He can feel Merlin's smile for a second before Merlin pulls away. “Come on, let's get you dressed and go home. You need to rest.”
~*~
Arthur watches Elyan sift through files on his laptop. “I have Tangled, Brave, Mulan and Princess and the Frog,” he announces.
“Must we watch cartoons?” Arthur moans for the third time in the last half-hour.
Elyan shrugs. “It's Gwen's turn to pick the movie and she wanted Disney.”
“Why do you even have Disney already downloaded to your laptop?” Arthur asks.
Elyan is saved from answering by Gwen who jumps on the sofa next to Arthur shrieking Tangled. She hugs Arthur from behind for no real reason.
“Things that good between you and Lancelot?” Arthur asks, then rethinks that question. “Actually, on second thought, don't answer that.”
“Ewww, thanks for that mental image,” Elyan grunts as he climbs onto the sofa on Gwen's other side.
“Come on, Arthur, why are you so testy?” Gwen asks, rubbing Arthur's shoulder. Arthur leans into her.
“Sorry, work's just been stressful lately.”
“Uh-uh, the first rule of movie night,” Elyan starts.
“Is not to talk about work,” Gwen and Arthur finish in unison.
“I know,” Arthur says. “Mithian's team is just not making the progress they were hoping for and...” He sighs. “I just want it to work, you know?”
Gwen hugs him tighter. “I'm sure it will.”
“I think you're missing the point of movie night, Arthur,” Elyan pipes in. Arthur swats at his head.
~*~
Arthur's never been one for double dates. To him, a date is an opportunity for a couple to spend some time together, bonding and falling in love with each other again every time. It's kinda hard to do that when there's another couple there. It's even harder if one half of the other couple is also Merlin's ex turned best friend.
“That's like straight out of a romance novel,” Merlin says, laughing.
“More like a first aid textbook,” Elena jokes. “But wait, the best part is that Gwaine is not even the first guy I met like that. I really should stop drinking martinis,” she says absently as she sips on her martini. Merlin raises his eyebrows. Gwaine shakes his head and Merlin shrugs, not saying anything more.
And there it is again, the nagging feeling at the back of Arthur's head that Gwaine still has a stronger connection with Merlin than he does. It's kind of ridiculous. He's been dating Merlin for over a year now and, barring a few minor setbacks, their relationship is going great. There is no reason for Arthur to feel this insecure, and yet he does. He thought he got over this self-deprecating, self-loathing bullshit after his father died, but he was clearly wrong. He just wishes it wasn't Merlin who brought out that side of him.
There's a warm hand on his thigh, bringing him out of his thoughts. He focuses on the conversation around him and finds Merlin looking at him expectantly. “Sorry, what?” he asks.
“I said, do you want anything? I'm gonna go get another beer,” Merlin says.
Arthur considers his half-full glass of wine. “No, I'm good, thanks.”
“Okay,” Merlin says with a smile. He leans in to brush his lips over Arthur's before leaving. Suddenly at a loss of what to focus on, Arthur buries his face in his glass.
“You've been taking good care of him,” Gwaine says. Arthur chokes on the sip of wine in his mouth.
Elena giggles. “At least it's not a martini,” she tells him.
“Oh, no, don't worry, I'd be more than happy to give you a Heimlich as well,” Gwaine assures him breezily. “I hear I'm good at them,” he adds, grinning at Elena and pulling her closer with the arm casually draped around her shoulders. They look happy. Arthur selfishly wishes they'd look happy somewhere else.
“I got us pity peanuts,” Merlin announces, distracting everyone.
“Still no issues using your deafness to get free stuff, I see,” Gwaine says proudly.
Merlin shrugs. “He offered. Who says no to free peanuts?” He slides into the booth next to Arthur, close enough that their legs are pressed together. His hand finds its usual place on Arthur's thigh. It's grounding and comforting at the same time and Arthur focuses on it as he tunes out most of the conversation. It's rude, he knows, but he's running on too little sleep and too much coffee, he's cranky and in a bad mood, and Gwaine is sitting opposite Merlin, talking to him and making him laugh and Arthur thinks he's entitled to being a little quiet. He makes some small talk with Elena, who's actually rather nice, but doesn't try to get involved in any serious conversations. Gwaine's been away for quite some time, enough for Arthur to forget just how much he hates seeing Merlin and Gwaine together.
“Can one of you please point me in the direction of the ladies' room?” Elena asks the table at large. Arthur notices Gwaine and Merlin exchanging a look over their glasses, then Merlin finishes his beer in one long gulp.
“I'll take you,” he says, already standing up.
“Oh, excellent, thank you!” Elena loops her arm through Merlin's and they quickly get lost in the crowd. Arthur looks sideways at Gwaine. Gwaine spreads his arms, giving Arthur an innocent face.
“I didn't say anything,” he says, answering no particular question.
“I saw that look,” Arthur replies accusingly.
Gwaine laughs. “Okay, busted. Maybe I wanted to talk to you alone.”
“Well?” Arthur prompts. He squints through the crowd, but Merlin and Elena are nowhere to be seen.
“How many times are we gonna go over this, Arthur?” Arthur raises his eyebrows. “Merlin and I are done. We dated, we broke up. I love him as a friend. That's all there is to it.”
“It's not that simple,” Arthur grumbles just as Merlin emerges from the crowd.
“She said she could find her way back,” he informs them with a face that says he doesn't really believe that. He makes Arthur scoot over and sits on Arthur's other side now, just as close as before. He leans against Arthur's side.
“It really is,” Gwaine says quietly.
~*~
Arthur slams the phone down on his desk. “Damn it!” he curses. Merlin's hands on his sides guide him around.
“What's wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing,” Arthur says, wrapping his arms around Merlin's waist and pulling him close. “It doesn't matter.”
“It clearly does,” Merlin disagrees. He plays with the hair at the nape of Arthur's neck, pulls on it gently. “Hey, talk to me.”
Arthur sighs. “It's about ViberSound,” he warns.
Merlin shrugs one shoulder. “So? I'm still unsure about the project itself and I still think that's an awful, awful name,” he teases, “but that doesn't mean you can't talk to me about it.”
“I thought you didn't care.”
“I don't,” Merlin says through a laugh. “But I care that you care.”
“Well, for what it's worth to you, it's not really going well.”
Merlin rolls his eyes. “I don't want it to fail.” Arthur gives him a questioning look. “I don't want you to feel like you failed,” Merlin explains.
“Sometimes I think you know me too well.”
Merlin grins as he leans forward and brings their mouths together. “No such thing,” he replies. “Come on, there's more comfortable places for moping in this palace than your study.”
~*~
“For the love of fuck, Arthur, get the fucking door!” Morgana yells banging at the wall they share.
“Not for me,” Arthur mumbles into his pillow. The doorbell rings again. He covers his head with a pillow. The doorbell rings again. Arthur peeks at his alarm clock; it's 3.26 in the morning. The doorbell rings again. “I swear to fucking god,” Arthur grunts, pushing the pillow out of the way and jumping out of bed. He storms down the stairs, not bothering to put on a t-shirt because whoever thinks that waking him up at ass o'clock on a Sunday isn't worth the effort of putting clothes on. He unlocks the front door with brisk flicks of his wrist and pulls the door open. “What!?” he asks before he sees who's on the other side. “Oh.”
He's met with the sight of Merlin hanging off of Gwaine's arm, which seems to be the only thing that supports him standing up. He's giggling into Gwaine's shoulder and waving a hand around like he's trying to explain something. Arthur looks at Gwaine for explanation.
“Don't look at me, I'm way drunker than I seem,” Gwaine says, pushing Arthur's door further open and squeezing past him. He drags Merlin inside with him.
“Yeah, please, come in,” Arthur tells the door he's closing. He follows Gwaine into the living room and helps him deposit Merlin on the couch.
“Hiiiiii,” Merlin sings when he notices Arthur. He pokes at Arthur's cheek, giggling again. “You look like you just rolled out of bed!”
“That's because I did,” Arthur patiently replies.
“Did we wake you up?” Merlin asks, stroking Arthur's face uncoordinatedly, his thumb bumping over Arthur's nose. “I told Gwaine I'd be fine just going back to my place.”
Arthur looks over his shoulder at Gwaine, who's now sitting on the armchair, his head thrown back. “He's gonna feel like crap in the morning,” he slurs. “Figured it was better I brought him here.”
Arthur looks at Merlin's face, illuminated only by the dim moonlight. His eyes are glassy and his nose is red and his breath smells of alcohol and something sweet. He looks about two minutes away from passing out. “Yeah, that's fine,” Arthur tells Gwaine.
Merlin grabs at Arthur's neck and tries to pull him down. “Come here,” he whines.
“I am here,” Arthur replies, gently prying Merlin's hand away and putting it down on Merlin's stomach.
“No, you're far away. I like it when you're close.”
Arthur bends over and kisses Merlin's forehead. “I'm here,” he assures gently. Merlin pouts, but doesn't seem to have the strength to do much else, as he gives in to Arthur's manhandling and lets Arthur cover him with a blanket.
“He's, um, he's a cuddler,” Gwaine says.
“I can see that,” Arthur snorts. “I don't think I've ever seen him this drunk,” he comments more to himself.
“He's such a lightweight,” Gwaine replies anyway.
“Yeah, tell me about it. Two beers and he's already stumbling. What were you even drinking?” he asks belatedly realizing he doesn't recognize the smell he catches on Merlin's breath.
“Dude, I don't even know,” Gwaine says, sitting up and looking at Arthur with wide eyes. “I think they're called Purple Nurples or something and I have no idea what's in them, but let me tell you something,” he raises a finger at Arthur seriously, “I can drink half this country under the table and I was dizzy after three of those.”
“How many did Merlin have?”
“Like, at least five. I'm telling you, man, he's gonna need all the help he can get come morning.”
As if on cue, Merlin starts snoring softly. Arthur laughs. “Yeah. Well, thanks for bringing him.”
“Of course,” Gwaine says immediately. “Sorry we woke you up. I just realized you probably have work to get to in the morning. Well, later in the morning.”
Arthur laughs. “I think that's out of the question at this point.”
“Really, you gonna skip work? 'Cause from what Merlin tells me, you're a bit of a workoholic.”
“He told you that?” Arthur makes a face. “He tells me that almost every day. I've been trying to be better about it,” he admits, not even sure why he's talking to Gwaine of all people about this. It's small comfort that Gwaine will likely not remember the conversation when he wakes up.
“I know,” Gwaine says. Arthur looks at him in surprise. Gwaine rolls his eyes and gives him an exaggeratedly exasperated sigh. “Come on, all he ever talks about is you. About how good at your work you are, about how kind and compassionate you can be, hell, I think he even called you noble at some point tonight. He may have already been drunk then, mind.”
“Yeah, that sounds like him,” Arthur says, pretending the words don't make him feel warm all over.
“Besides, you two have that whole making each other better versions of yourselves thing going, where he makes you relax more and you teach him some sense of responsibility and whatnot,” Gwaine adds off-handedly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
There's a short lull in the conversation when Arthur is too stunned to reply, and then it gets longer when he realizes he doesn't know what else to say. His only topic of conversation with Gwaine, at least when it's just the two of them, has always been Merlin. Then something occurs to him. “He's missed you,” he says.
Gwaine gives him a lopsided smirk. “Of course, what's there not to miss? Good tan, perfect teeth, great body... fun accent,” he jokes.
“I think it was mostly the hair, to be honest with you,” Arthur deadpans.
Gwaine laughs. “You know, you're a lot more fun at four in the morning. Maybe I should make a habit of this.”
“Please don't.”
“What are you gonna do, kick me out?” He waves his finger at Arthur. “I warn you, I have an orange belt in karate. Or I had it some,” he pauses briefly, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling as he counts, “twenty-fucking-three years ago, Jesus, I feel old!”
“You are old,” Arthur replies, though in all honesty, he doesn't actually know.
“Yeah, well, I keep in shape. You still couldn't kick me out,” Gwaine says, leaning back into the armchair.
“You work on a boat! And I played soccer professionally for three years, so I'm not exactly out of shape either.” He doesn't mention that Merlin has actually been the reason why Arthur's been getting a lot of exercise lately.
“It's a luxury cruiser, Arthur,” Gwaine says with a dismissive wave of his hand and in that moment, Arthur swears, Gwaine's more Morgana's brother than he is. “We have a pool on deck.”
“I thought you were supposed to be working there, not sailing.”
“No reason I can't do both.”
“So are you gonna go back to that?” Arthur asks before he can think about why he's asking. Part of him probably still wants Gwaine away from Merlin, but most of him is just having a conversation. With Gwaine. He's bonding with his boyfriend's drunk ex at 4 in the morning. He pinches himself just to make sure this is what his life has become thanks to Merlin.
“Eh, I don't know,” Gwaine replies. “It's a good job, don't get me wrong, and it's great fun, but I don't know. Elena is obviously staying here and I, well... Let's just say I'm thinking about staying here as well,” he finishes, like he can't make himself say what he really means. Arthur can relate to that.
“It's serious between you two then?” he asks, leaning back against Merlin's legs.
Gwaine rubs his neck, looking uncomfortable. “I wouldn't say serious per se,” he says, dragging the sentence out like he's still thinking about the next one. “Exclusive, though, definitely. But I don't know about serious yet. I just... don't wanna rush things, you know.”
Arthur can relate to that as well. “How does she feel about this?”
“I don't really know, we haven't talked about it.”
“Might you wanna ask her?” Arthur suggests, because that's what Morgana would say to him (it's only tonight, he tells himself, he's not becoming Gwaine's Morgana).
“Are you seriously giving me relationship advice?” Gwaine asks incredulously, shaking his head.
“I'm giving you communication advice,” Arthur corrects.
Gwaine scrubs a hand over his face. “Does it work?” he mumbles into his palm.
“I don't know, we can ask Merlin tomorrow if you like, it's him I tried it on.”
And that's how Gwaine stays the night at Arthur's house too.
~*~