Work Text:
Merlin trudged home from the bus stop in the rain. Arthur used to drop him off at work every morning, and pick him up every afternoon (as long as he stayed until five, when the cleaners locked up), but that'd all ended a month ago, because Arthur got a promotion. Suddenly, he was leaving the house before Merlin had even showered, and not getting home until whatever Merlin had cooked was cold (and getting colder) in the bin.
Everything felt pretty shitty to Merlin. They'd sold his car six months ago to make up the payments on their rundown little house. It wasn't even a nice house-- according to Gwen's tarot cards, someone had been murdered there in the fifties. It was damp and dark and dingy. Merlin and Arthur had been so money tight when they'd first moved in that the carpet in their bedroom was still the godawful beige monstrosity of the old lady who'd lived there before them.
Merlin hated that carpet almost as much as he hated buses. They never ran on time, they were always full of miserable bastards and the graffiti wasn’t even imaginative. He’d also noticed how bus stops seemed to have their own climate; always wet and windy, with a choice sprinkling of cigarette butts and old chewing gum.
The one thing that pissed Merlin off more than anything was that this new job was supposed to have given Arthur more time. It was supposed to have meant a four o'clock pick up and the occasional dinner out, not a lonely bus ride home and culinary options that consisted of 'kebabs or nothing'.
It wasn't even like Merlin could run down and catch the bus when he finished work at half three. No, the problem with being a TA in one of the Valley's comprehensives is that you aren't ever very popular with the students (although Merlin had always thought 'students' was far too educated a word for the gaggle of apes he was paid to entertain day in, day out). This meant Merlin had to wait until five before braving the bus anyway, for fear of running into someone who might recognise him and exercise that age old you have no power outside the classroom rule all teenagers seem to think they personally invented.
So it was a horrible day of ignoring pubescent girls grabbing his arse and spotty boys taking the piss out of his hair, sitting alone in the decrepit music room while old women hoovered in circles around him, waiting for the bus in the rain with one of Arthur's itchy woollen hats pulled down to his eyes, and then stomping through the rain again for half an hour before Merlin was finally staring down at their ratty old welcome mat and fumbling through his coat pocket for the door key.
On his keyring, Merlin had a photo of himself and Arthur kissing at the top of Scream-a-lot in Park Asterix. It was taken back when they'd had money to fill up their old van, Excalibur, and drive to the Channel tunnel for an impromptu camping holiday. Actually, it was just as accurate to say it came from back when they actually did cool shit together, instead of just sleeping in the same bed and having half-hearted sex on weekends. The less said about their Sunday shopping trips, the better.
Merlin grumbled under his breath as he jabbed the key into the lock, his bad mood only darkening when he had to bang his shoulder against the door three times before it sprang open. The wind pushed him inside, blowing his hair into his eyes and sending the door crashing into the wall, deepening the dent that’d been growing there ever since Arthur had stopped opening the door for Merlin every evening.
After barely bothering to wipe his feet, Merlin threw down his bag and coat, then slammed the front door shut, getting another face full of rain for his trouble. He shivered and closed his eyes, savouring the stillness of the air. He listened to the clock tick quietly in the kitchen and hummed softly to himself, but then, there was the unmistakable creak of a floorboard in the hall, and Merlin spun around with his heart in his mouth.
Instead of a murderous assailant or what would probably have been a very disappointed burglar, Merlin came face to face with Arthur. His hair was sticking up as though he’d run a sweaty hand through it far too many times, but he was grinning. The suit he’d left in that morning was nowhere to be seen; he was wearing a red t-shirt, and looked as though he’d been home for hours.
“Arthur?” Merlin said, frowning.
Arthur reached up to brush a few strands of hair off Merlin’s face, then leaned in to kiss him. It was only a light touch, but it made Merlin’s stomach tingle, and he leaned forward, towards the warm dryness of Arthur’s chest. He felt Arthur’s fingers tickle along his forearm, and he shuddered.
“You must be cold,” Arthur mumbled, still close enough for their noses to brush.
“Yeah,” Merlin was feeling a little dazed. He hadn’t seen Arthur home so early in weeks, and he was wearing that cologne Merlin loved more than anything-- the one he’d worn on their first date. “It’s, erm, windy.”
Arthur laughed, puffing hot air across Merlin’s lips, then leaned around to kiss his cheek. “Obviously.”
“What’re you doing here?” Merlin asked, trying to ignore the tremble in his voice as Arthur’s nose brushed against his ear. “And more importantly, if you were home, why didn’t you pick me up?”
“Hm?” Arthur moved his hips and placed a hand lightly on Merlin’s waist, kissing up his neck and behind his ear.
“I said,” Merlin closed his eyes, blocking out the way his skin was jumping under Arthur’s touches. “Why are you home so early?”
Arthur slid his other hand into Merlin’s hair, holding his head still while he kissed him.
“I was promoted,” he murmured against Merlin’s neck. “I finish early.”
Arthur licked Merlin’s earlobe, and that finally broke him. His breath hitched and he groaned, his shoulders slumping against Arthur’s chest. It took him a few moments to regain his composure-- moments he spent running his hands up and down Arthur’s back, feeling the firm smoothness of muscles beneath his thin red t-shirt.
“But...” Merlin mumbled after a minute or two. “But you’ve been late every-- ngh. Every day.”
At that, Arthur pulled back. Merlin’s body followed him, trying to lean into the touch it’d lost, but then cold air engulfed him and Merlin opened his eyes. Arthur was staring down at their interlinking fingers with a slight smile on his face.
“I wasn’t in work,” he said quietly, and Merlin’s head started to catch up with him.
“Well then where--?” he asked, suddenly suspicious and confused and unhappy. Arthur had never lied to him before. “I had to catch the bus every day... You know I hate buses.”
“Shh,” Arthur’s eyes flicked back up to meet Merlin’s, and the look in them was so warm and excited that Merlin’s worries melted away again. “Follow me.”
Their fingers slipped away from each other, and Arthur led the way to the sitting room with a smirk. Merlin followed him, enchanted by the spark he hadn’t felt between them for a long time.
“Wait here,” Arthur told him at the doorway. Merlin heard his footsteps cross the room, then stop, and there was a clicking noise before Arthur finally called him inside.
Merlin poked his head through the door, and almost fell over in surprise. There, sitting neatly between their second hand sofa and tiny TV, was a piano. It was jet black, with a vase of flowers resting on top and a few sheets of red card strung along the edge, facing towards Merlin.
Scrawled across the card in Arthur’s thick, block letters were the words “MARRY ME?”
Merlin sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide in surprise. Arthur was behind the piano, grinning, and then suddenly he was playing music. It started a little timid, but quickly picked up into a tune Merlin recognised.
“Fell in love with the world,” Arthur sang... And yes, he was singing, and it was actually pretty beautiful and incredible and Merlin couldn’t do anything but stand there gaping. “Through the eyes of a Merl, who’s still around the morning after.”
Merlin giggled, covering his mouth with his hand and hoping Arthur recognised the difference between being watched fondly, and being made fun of. It was a little weird, standing there in his own living room in soaking wet clothes, being serenaded by his boyfriend of over a year, but it was also the single most amazing thing Merlin had ever experienced.
As Arthur carried on singing, Merlin hummed with him, bobbing his head to the music and walking forwards until he could rest his fingers on the piano. Arthur smiled up at him and winked, only slipping on the keys half a dozen times. The wrong notes and the gaps didn’t matter to Merlin-- he barely even noticed.
When the song finished, Arthur gave a particularly over-optimistic flourish (he clearly hadn’t been learning for very long), and Merlin clapped. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Arthur the whole time; he felt so loved, he thought he might be bloody glowing.
“I know you’ve always wanted one,” Arthur’s normal voice was a little jarring after so much singing. “I saved the extra I made from this new job and... And, well, I thought...”
He blushed and looked down at the keys. Merlin beamed, his heart fluttering at the sight of Arthur so shy, after being full of bravado only a moment before. With a little bit of a squeeze, Merlin managed to edge his way around the piano until he was standing beside Arthur.
He didn’t know what to say. There weren’t really any words to express the way Arthur had made him feel, so instead Merlin bent his knees until they were eye to eye. Arthur looked over at him and their hands found each other again. Merlin smiled, nodded a small yes, and pushed forwards to kiss Arthur.
Arthur’s hands were back in Merlin’s hair in an instant, and his tongue was brushing along Merlin’s lips, coaxing them open. The force of Arthur pressing forwards almost made Merlin topple over. He grasped Arthur’s shoulders to hold himself up and pushed back, sliding his tongue along Arthur’s and moaning into his mouth.
“I love you so much,” Arthur muttered, breaking away from Merlin’s mouth to peck kisses across his chin and jaw.
Merlin laughed, catching hold of Arthur’s face with one of his hands and kissing the tip of his nose. “I love you too,” he grinned, his head full of the smell and touch and feel of Arthur.
“I’m sorry,” Arthur mumbled between kisses. “Sorry I’ve not been around.”
“Hmm,” Merlin hummed into the kiss, pushing forward again until Arthur had to throw a hand out behind him to hold himself up on the piano stool. “S’okay. I should’ve-- mhm, been more supportive.”
“You were fantastic,” Arthur twisted his other hand in Merlin’s hair, pulling until he gasped. Then he wrapped his legs behind Merlin’s knees. “I’ve just been trying to keep this a --oh, ngh-- a secret... Been kinda distant.”
Merlin nodded, refusing to part from Arthur’s skin for longer than a second. “You’re making up for it now.”
They both huffed out a breathless laugh, the hot air mixing in their mouths. Merlin pressed a kiss high on each of Arthur’s cheeks, then pulled back a little to stare into his eyes.
“I’ve missed this,” Merlin whispered.
“Me too,” Arthur ran a thumb across Merlin’s cheekbone. “The sex has been a little dull recently, hasn’t it?”
Merlin blushed and looked away for a moment.
“Look at you!” Arthur chuckled, sliding his hand around to the back of Merlin’s neck. “Fourteen months and you still blush when I mention sex.”
Merlin bit his lip.
“You’re not so quiet once we get going,” Arthur grinned a wicked grin, and Merlin felt heat rising up his chest as his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of scarlet.
“Arthur,” he said quietly.
“Merlin,” Arthur gave him a pointed look, smiling wide enough to show his teeth. “What can I do to make you relax?”
Merlin was suddenly very aware of the way Arthur’s feet had locked together behind his knees. He moved backwards slowly, watching Arthur sit up in front of him. They didn’t break eye contact once, and when Arthur reached up and tucked his fingers inside the waistband of Merlin’s trousers, Merlin gulped; he couldn’t help it.
They kissed once more, then Arthur had his hands on Merlin’s hips, and he was pushing him around. Before he could get the excited squirm in his stomach under control, Merlin found himself pinned by the waist between Arthur and the piano, hardly daring to watch as Arthur eyed the front of his trousers.
“I...” Merlin gasped, his head fuzzy with want like he hadn’t felt in months. “Ar--Arthur.”
“Shh,” Arthur popped open the button of Merlin’s trousers, then slowly worked his fly down. “These are soaking, Merlin.”
“R--rain.”
“Hm,” Arthur nodded, then pushed Merlin’s trousers down until they pooled around his feet, and turned his attention to Merlin’s boxer shorts.
Merlin’s erection was obvious through the thin blue fabric. When he glanced down and saw Arthur licking his lips, Merlin swallowed thickly and forced himself to stare into the mirror opposite instead. He watched his own reflection-- his hair was sticking up on end, his cheeks were flushed bright pink and his mouth seemed stuck in an ‘o’ shape.
The first brush of Arthur’s lips through the cloth made Merlin jump. His hands flew up from where they’d been gripping the side of the piano, and came back down to hit a few keys, making a loud sound. The muscles in his thighs twitched and Merlin’s breath caught in his throat. Arthur pressed kisses to the crease of Merlin’s crotch, and Merlin let his head roll back a little. His lips formed Arthur’s name, but no sound came out.
Arthur smiled, his mouth still pressed against Merlin, and began tickling his fingers up and down the back of Merlin’s knees and thighs. It made him keen and move his hips a fraction of an inch this way and that, searching for friction. Small whimpering noises curled up from deep in Merlin’s throat, getting louder and more desperate as Arthur’s hands ghosted over his arse.
“See,” Arthur whispered, his voice little more than a croak. “That’s better already.”
Merlin made an irritable, displeased sort of sound and pushed his hips forwards again. He shivered when he felt Arthur’s fingers skimming along his lower abdomen. They pushed his shirt up a little, running over his bellybutton, and were followed by Arthur’s lips.
He kissed the light dusting of hair leading down into Merlin’s boxers, swirling his tongue over the hot, sensitive skin. When Merlin whined and let his head fall back, he felt Arthur’s smile against his stomach, and warmth crept into every cell of his body. He savoured the closeness and the affection of the moment they were sharing, promising himself he’d never forget it.
That peace of mind lasted for a whole of three seconds, before Arthur’s hand was moving up to brush over Merlin’s nipples, and the other was pressing against his arse, pulling him forward until his cock was almost touching Arthur’s throat. He carried on kissing and sucking gently at Merlin’s stomach, encouraging Merlin’s groans with low, murmuring sounds of his own.
Merlin shifted his hands where they were pushing down onto the piano, and hit a few keys again. He whined when Arthur pulled his hand out from under his shirt, but quickly stopped his protests when Arthur hooked three fingers under the elastic of Merlin’s boxers.
“Look at you,” Arthur teased, his voice warm and affectionate.
“Shut up,” Merlin gasped, releasing the piano in favour of running his hand through Arthur’s hair and lifting his chin. “I want to kiss you.”
“It’s a bit awkward like this,” Arthur curved his fingers a little more over Merlin’s arse, and rubbed his thumb along the dip of Merlin’s back.
“You haven’t left me much room to bend,” Merlin huffed, his breath stolen from him yet again by Arthur’s hands. He could see how dark Arthur’s eyes had become, and he was desperate to capture Arthur’s lips in his own. He wanted to kiss along Arthur’s jaw and run his tongue over the stubble there.
Arthur smiled and turned his head, kissing Merlin’s fingers where they were resting against his jaw. Then he let go of Merlin’s arse and took hold of his wrist, guiding his fingers upwards until they pressed against Merlin’s own lips. He kissed exactly where Arthur had.
“There you go,” Arthur whispered, all quiet and tender. “But you’ve forgotten I can still kiss you.”
He buried his nose in Merlin’s boxers and kissed the outline of his cock. Merlin’s jaw went slack and he made a noise somewhere between ngh and guh, then pushed his hips forward again. After a minute or so, Merlin let go of all inhibitions and scrabbled at the fabric on his hips, trying to pull down his boxers with shaking fingers.
Arthur didn’t move away from planting soft, slow kisses along the length of Merlin’s cock, but he clasped his hands over Merlin’s and helped him tug down the tight elastic around his waist. It made Merlin keen with his eyes still squeezed shut, and he threaded his fingers through Arthur’s hair, pulling him closer.
The tight grip of Arthur’s hands on Merlin’s hips stayed as strong as ever, but the closed-mouth kisses Arthur was pressing to Merlin’s cock were quickly replaced by a wet, burning hot heat around the head. The sensation was almost too much, and Merlin gasped loudly and tugged at Arthur’s hair.
“S--s--sorry,” he stuttered a moment later, when his brain started up again and he realised how hard he was gripping Arthur. “S--sorry.”
All Arthur did was hum and swirl his tongue around the head of Merlin’s cock. It seemed safe to assume all was forgiven, so Merlin quickly turned his attention back to not falling apart. It was damn near impossible, because Arthur’s tongue was teasing over the slit of his cock, and his cheeks were hollowing as he slid forward, gradually taking more and more of Merlin in.
For a brief moment, in his utterly boneless, brain dead state, Merlin wondered if Arthur had been taking blow job lessons as well as piano lessons. Nothing they’d done to each other’s bodies had felt this good since the first six months of their relationship, and although Merlin had been more than happy to suck Arthur countless times, Arthur had always been too worried about his technique to be passionate about oral sex.
Something had clearly changed, judging by the noises Merlin was making, and the way his hands were flying back and forth between Arthur’s hair and the piano keys. He couldn’t seem to find anything to grip that was solid enough to keep him sane against the blinding pleasure of Arthur’s lips closed around him. This was definitely what Arthur had been talking about when he said Merlin was vocal during sex, but at that moment, Merlin couldn’t bring himself to care. If it meant Arthur kept doing what he was doing, Merlin would gladly sing the national fucking anthem in nothing but groans.
If Arthur had been able to smile, there was no doubt he’d have been giving Merlin a dirty grin at this point. His eyes would probably be clouded over and his teeth would be digging into his lip-- Merlin knew this because once, Arthur had come completely undone from little more than listening to Merlin mewl while he gave him a hand job, so the fact he enjoyed Merlin’s noises was nothing new (although it never, ever got old either).
Merlin’s legs slid a little further apart as a tightening, twisting heat began to build in his stomach. He tried to say Arthur’s name, but all that came out was a string of ah and mhm sounds. The pad of Arthur’s thumb rubbed small circles over Merlin’s hipbone, but his other hand left Merlin’s skin for a moment, before slipping between his legs to brush over his arse.
A strangled cry, an unsteady hip stutter, and Merlin was writhing and tugging at Arthur’s hair again, as he felt a finger trail down the crack of his arse and slip between the cheeks. There was no lube (there wasn’t even spit, for fuck’s sake), so Arthur’s didn’t try to push inside-- which Merlin knew somewhere deep in his mind, he should be thankful for.
Arthur’s finger rubbed over Merlin’s hole gently, helped along only by the sweat on Merlin’s back. It didn’t matter that Arthur couldn’t work his finger inside, because as soon as his tongue gave a particularly long, languid swirl around the head of Merlin’s cock, Merlin was coming with a gasp. His thoughts went white for a moment that stretched on forever, and his hips shook, stuttering in and out of the wet heat of Arthur’s mouth.
For the most part, Arthur seemed more prepared for Merlin’s climax than he usually was. He kept his finger pressed against Merlin’s hole, and swallowed in earnest around Merlin’s cock, not coughing or breaking away once. He watched Merlin’s face from below his lashes, taking in the way Merlin’s mouth fell open, and how his adam’s apple bobbed while he groaned.
The fingers of Merlin’s left hand stayed wrapped tightly in Arthur’s hair, holding him still and stroking his scalp as Merlin slowly came down from his high. His breathing evened out in the silent air. When Merlin finally opened his eyes, he looked down and whined quietly at the sight of Arthur still mouthing softly at his over sensitive cock.
“Don’t,” Merlin breathed as he ran a shaking hand along Arthur’s cheek. “D--don’t, Arthur.”
Arthur pulled off Merlin and smiled, his lips and chin wet with spit. He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was burning from thirst and come, so he just nodded and slid backwards on the piano stool, giving Merlin a little more room. The movement made his breath hitch, and Merlin’s eyes darted down through his hazy post-orgasm stupor to fix on Arthur’s crotch.
“Oh,” he said, realisation dawning as his eyes took in the strain of Arthur’s jeans. “Oh.”
Arthur he bit his lip, looking Merlin up and down. “This was supposed to be just about you,” he managed to croak after a minute. “But...”
“I know,” Merlin said quickly, his voice cracking, and without another moment’s hesitation, he bent over and started fumbling with the buttons of Arthur’s jeans.
Arthur ran his hands up and down Merlin’s shoulders and arms, marvelling at him as if he were something new and precious, not someone Arthur knew as well as himself. Merlin yanked Arthur’s zip down and lifted his hips enough to pull his jeans and boxers over the curves of his thighs, and the sounds Arthur started making were unseemly.
He moaned and whimpered at the slightest brush of Merlin’s fingers on his skin, and as soon as Merlin let go of his jeans, Arthur was scrambling to capture Merlin’s lips in his own, and using a surprisingly strong grip to manoeuvre Merlin into his lap. Merlin followed without protest, hungrily devouring Arthur’s mouth as he moved to straddle Arthur’s thighs on the stool.
After kissing messily for a few minutes, Arthur trailed his hands down from where they were carding through Merlin’s hair, and started plucking at the collar of his shirt. He unbuttoned it carefully, kissing the new, pale flesh as it was revealed. He breathed deeply, inhaling Merlin’s scent, and almost bit into Merlin’s collarbone when he felt long fingers wrap around the base of his cock.
“God, Merlin,” Arthur gulped, rolling his hips upwards into Merlin’s hand.
“I know,” Merlin whispered against the shell of his ear, twisting a fist into the fabric of Arthur’s t-shirt as he pumped his cock once, twice, three times.
Arthur turned his head and kissed Merlin’s cheek, then made a tiny ah sound as the heat in his stomach escaped, and he came between them. Merlin stroked Arthur through his orgasm, murmuring half-finished endearments in his ear and massaging his ribs with his free hand.
“H--holy shit,” Arthur panted several minutes later, when they were both slumped uncomfortably on the piano stool. “Fuck. That was quite a christening.”
Merlin tried to laugh, but he was too tired, and it came out more like a nervous, high pitched sigh. He groaned as he eased himself out of Arthur’s lap, then jumped when his bare arse pressed against the piano keys and made a loud, deep sound echo through the silent living room.
“Shit,” he laughed hoarsely, clutching his chest and grinning at Arthur, who snorted out a tired laugh and reached for Merlin’s hand.
“Come here,” he said wearily, and Merlin let himself be guided to sit by Arthur, behind the piano. “I’ll teach you something.”
“Now?” Merlin frowned at him for a moment. “But we’re all...”
Arthur kissed Merlin and rubbed a warm, sweaty hand across his stomach until he writhed and giggled. Then he pulled back with a smirk and said, “Don’t argue with me, Merlin.”