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“So is it maths today?” Merlin asked as he walked into Arthur’s dorm room.
“French, actually,” replied Arthur, not looking up from his unshuffled stack of papers upon his desk, “Maths is Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
“Right, right,” Merlin whisted, flopping down upon Arthur’s bed and toeing off his shoes, “I never can keep it straight.”
“You can’t keep anything straight,” Arthur chided, turning to grin at Merlin, who flipped him a lethargic bird.
“Keep it up, funny man, and you can prepare for midterms on your own.”
Arthur threw up his hands and turned back around.
“Mia culpa, mia culpa, please forgive me. Now if we could get to le francais…?”
“You know it’s not often the student that pesters for tutoring to start.”
“Yeah well if you were paying as much money as my father was for these lessons, you’d pester to.”
“Fair enough,” Merlin said, standing up and dragging over a chair next to Arthur’s. “Let’s get started then. What’s on the docket this evening?”
“The imparfait.”
“Oh, easy street. Let’s get started.”
They spent the better part of fifteen minutes getting situated—pulling out notebooks, flipping to the right chapter, commenting briefly on the latest classroom gossip. Then they knuckled down to work.
“So the endings are…?”
“Ais…ai…s?” Arthur ventured.
“Yes,” Merlin encouraged, nodding, “go on.”
“Ais?”
Merlin let out a defeated sigh. They’d been at it for nearly an hour now. Arthur just couldn’t keep the grammar in his head.
“Can we take a break?” Arthur pleaded, kneading the heels of his palms into his temple. “I’m this close to cracking.”
“Alright. But just a short one.”
Arthur pushed back from the desk and tossed himself onto his bed, face first. His t-shirt slid up his body; Merlin spied a swath of low back, a crescent moon of Arthur’s briefs.
“Look, can’t we just finish all this—” Arthur gestured vaguely towards the desk without lifting his head “—tomorrow?”
“I can’t tomorrow,” said Merlin, who’d turned towards his notes and made a point of not looking back. “I have a date.”
Merlin heard Arthur shuffle round and sit up, as if on a spring.
“Oh ho, a date? Monk Merlin has finally broken his vow of celibacy?”
“I said I have a date, not that I’m going to fuck him.”
“Do I know him?”
“Of course not.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because it’s a prerequisite of everyone I date that they have absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“Oh,” Arthur gasped, clutching his chest and falling backwards onto the bed, “you wrong me so, Emerys.”
Merlin turned around just so he could roll his eyes at Arthur.
“Please, stop with the dramatics. You’re just stalling for time. Look, the sooner we finish up this assignment, the sooner you can dash up to sweep sweet Guinevere into your arms.”
Arthur stiffened visibly, rolled over onto his side.
“Gwen and I…sort of broke up.”
“Oh, oh God, sorry, I didn’t, I mean, oh Jesus, sorry.”
Arthur sat up and waved off Merlin’s apology.
“No, really, it’s fine. Gwen and I had been a little dead in the water recently.”
“As in…?” Merlin leaned in for the answer.
“As in it started feeling like I was snogging my sister.”
Merlin mimicked the sour, I-just-ate-a-whole-lemon-raw expression on Arthur’s face.
“I mean, as far as sister’s go, Morgana is rather attractive.”
“I’ll ignore the rampant homosexual opinionating on the attractiveness of my sister, thank you very much.”
“Rampant, am I? And here a minute ago you were comparing me to St. Augustine!”
Arthur rolled over onto his stomach and twisted round to face Merlin.
“Well you did mention something of a date earlier,” Arthur teased.
Merlin’s nose reddened as a blush spread across his face and he busied himself with his pencil.
“What of it? I can enjoy the company of a gentleman caller, if I so please.”
“Of course!” Arthur agreed, cupping his face with his hands and swinging his feet in the air. “So, what’s his name?”
“Oh, toss off!” Merlin swore as he hurled a crumpled up piece of scratch paper at Arthur’s head. “See if I ever tell you anything again.”
“Come off it, I’m happy for you,” Arthur said, standing, and clapping a meaty hand on Merlin’s petit shoulder, “truly, I am.”
“Thanks, I guess, look, can we just get back to this?” Merlin waved at the still-open textbook, Allons y!
“Whatever you wish,” Arthur crooned, sitting down. Their knees brushed as Arthur scooted forward. “So what are the endings again?”
Merlin stood in line at the cafeteria, banana and muffin cuddled next to a steaming mug of coffee on his tray. His hair, still bed-tussled, refused his fingers’ incessant grooming. Class didn’t start for another fifteen minutes.
“Look at you. Awake at a semi-decent hour.”
“Toss off,” Merlin swore at Arthur, who’d floated up next to him in line. “Just because not all of us wake up at dawn to run seven hundred miles doesn’t make you some sort of hero for doing so.”
“No, it just makes me better.” Arthur stretched while he spoke.
Merlin walked his tray to an empty table; Arthur followed.
“So, how’d it go?”
“How’d what go?”
“Your date.”
“Are you keeping tabs on my life for something?” Merlin asked through a mouthful of muffin.
“Only the interesting parts. Besides, can’t a guy take an interest in his mate’s love life?”
“I’d rather he not.”
“That bad?” Arthur guessed.
Merlin shrugged, let his shoulder rise and drop.
“It was alright, I suppose.”
“We strive for more than alright.”
“He was kind, don’t get me wrong. Very sweet. Incredibly dull. Talked about himself the whole night. Reminded me a bit of you in that way. Probably why it didn’t work out.”
Arthur smacked his hand against his heart.
“You wound me. Is this the punishment I get for asking after you?”
“If I say yes, will you stop?”
“Fine, fine.” Arthur waved his surrender. “Does that mean you’re free tonight? I have a French assignment due tomorrow, and it’s très difficile.”
Merlin sipped his coffee, tried not to look into Arthur’s eyes.
“I suppose I don’t have anything better to do.”
“Come in!” Arthur shouted to the knock at the door.
“I have my own assignments tonight, so no goofing of—oh come on, Arthur!”
“What? What did I do this time?” Arthur asked, peering backwards through the legs of his downward dog.
“Can you put on some bloody pants when you’re expecting company?”
“You’re not company, Merlin.” Arthur hopped to his feet and tugged on a pair of basketball shorts. “Besides, yoga au natural is supposed to be very good for your chakras. Helps you reconnect to the earth mother’s primal energy.”
“You just wanted to show off your bum, didn’t you?”
“I was sort of hoping you’d get a nose bleed like in all those Korean cartoons you watch.”
Merlin turned his face away, desperate for Arthur not to notice the red tinging the tip of his nose.
“They’re Japanese, and it’s called anime, you tosser.”
“All the same to me, really. Shall we?” Arthur gestured towards his desk, where notebook, pen, and textbook lay waiting.
“Can you put a shirt on first?”
Arthur cocked his head and held his chin for a moment, as if deeply contemplating this question before finally answering.
“No. Let’s get to it then.”
Arthur, oddly focused, did not banter or sidestep any of Merlin’s lessons. For every exercise or assignment, Arthur brought a sharp determination. It unsettled Merlin. The night passed quickly, and just shy of an hour Arthur shut his notebook and set down his pen.
“Right then. I’d say that’s got to be a B+, A-. Easy.” Arthur breathed out a sign, leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head.
“Make sure to read over it one last time in the morning. Just in case we missed anything.”
Merlin stood to leave, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“Hold on a tick.” Arthur caught Merlin’s wrist.
“Nobody actually says that, it’s not 1964.”
“Are you calling me old?”
“Well, you’re a third year and you get tutored by a second year, so…”
“So I’m old and stupid?”
“Your words.”
Merlin turned towards the door out to the hall, hand on the knob, when Arthur grabbed his shoulders and spun him round.
“I’m trying to talk to you.”
“What is it then?” Merlin asked, shrugging off Arthur’s grip.
No one spoke. Arthur’s gaze felt heavy on Merlin’s face. He looked away. His cheeks felt warm.
Arthur kissed him.
“What the bloody fuck are you doing?” Merlin spat, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Arthur said, an incredulous, wounded timber to his voice.
“Why are you kissing me? Is this some prank, are you taking the piss with me?”
“No, no, really, I promise,” Arthur tried to place a hand on Merlin’s arm, but Merlin backed up against the door, knocking his head against the wood. He swore.
“So what then?”
“I fancy you.”
Merlin cocked his head and wormed a pinky into his ear.
“You what?”
“I fancy you.” Arthur shrugged. “Can’t be the first time someone’s told you that. You’re decent enough.”
“Oh, well thank you for such a rousing compliment. I can see you’re absolutely smitten.”
“I said I fancy you. Don’t go booking Westminster Abbey just yet.”
“But what about Gwen? Or Vivian?”
“They were nice. Fun. But just because I went with them doesn’t mean I can’t go with you too.”
“So you’re, what, bisexual?”
“Why does there have to be a word for everything. That’s your lot’s problem. You want everything to have a name and a neat little section. Because that’s what you think society wants you to do. Well fuck society. Yes, I dated girls. Yes, I want my French tutor to shag me silly. So what? It doesn’t make me anything other than horny.”
Merlin staggered over to Arthur’s bed and slumped down onto the corner.
“This is…a lot to take in.”
“To be fair, you’re the one that started all the talking. I just went for the snog.”
“You can’t have just expected me to go for it! What, with no explanation or anything?”
“Course I did.” Arthur stalked closer till he was standing before Merlin, crotch level with his face. “I would have.”
“Yeah, but you’re a wanker.”
“Only sometimes.”
Merlin tried to keep staring at Arthur’s face. Tried not to look at his bare chest, at the round, pink circles of his nipples. Tried not to count the hairs below his taunt bellybutton that led down to the vibrant, green elastic waist of his shorts.
“Are you hard?”
“Oh, fuck off,” Merlin swore, turned his face away. The tip of his nose shone red.
“I am.” Arthur snaked his hand to the front of his shorts, gripping himself, till the bold outline of his cock drew Merlin’s eyes. “I’ve been hard all day. Thinking about you. About you coming over to tutor me. Do you know how many times I’ve wanked over you?”
“Stop it.”
“Loads. Loads and loads. Sometimes I think about blowing you in class. Right in the middle of a lecture. Or else you fuck me up the bum in the locker rooms, right after a run, when I’m all sweat and stink.”
“Arthur, stop it.”
“Today though, I was imagining this, me telling you, and you got so fucking pissed at me you bend me over my desk, took a ruler to my ass till I begged for your cock.”
“Stop it!”
Merlin shouted. He hadn’t meant to. He was standing now, too, his face an inch from Arthur’s, their noses practically touching. Cold lighting in his eyes. Arthur swallowed.
Merlin kissed him.
It was not the gentle, exploratory kiss Arthur had given Merlin earlier. There were no lily petals softly brushing, no hitch of breath or blush of cheek. Merlin seized the back of Arthur’s head, fingers twisting, gripping, at his hair as he brought their mouths together hard enough to knock their teeth. Merlin grabbed Arthur’s cock through his gym shorts, pulled, squeezed.
Then they were backing up madly, blindly, knocking into the desk. Arthur’s chair clattered to the floor, the upright legs nearly catching Merlin and sending him to the ground. When he felt the wood pressed against the back of his thighs, Arthur slide his weight backwards onto the desk, papers crumpled under his ass.
Merlin attacked Arthur’s neck, gnawing and nipping and sucking, his teeth raising wild, angry marks from his collarbone to the hard line of his jaw. His tongue lashed and circled the bulge of Arthur’s Adam’s apple, dipped and tasted at the curves of his ears. Arthur’s fingers dug deep bruises into Merlin’s hips, drawing him ever closer, pressing their bodies together until the muscles of Arthur’s arms ached and shook.
“Is this what you wanted?” Merlin growled low into Arthur’s ear, “this?” Merlin bucked his hips, hard, into Arthur, whose head lolled back as his mouth hung open in a plaintive, mewling moan. “Is this what you thought about all those hours you were pretending to study?”
“Yes,” Arthur whimpered, fingers clawing up the back of Merlin’s shirt, plucking, picking, tearing at the fabric as he pulled it loose from the tuck of Merlin’s jeans. “God, yes, Merlin, please.”
Merlin’s hand snapped round and grabbed Arthur’s jaw. He held his face steady as he lowered his eyes, their noses just barely touching. It hurt, just a little.
“Please what?”
Arthur felt his throat tighten, felt his skin move around the motion of his swallow.
“Please fuck me.”
Merlin devoured Arthur’s mouth, drew his bottom lip out between his teeth and bit. Deft fingers hooked the hem of Arthur’s shorts and tugged them off. The red, buoyant bounce of Arthur’s cock slapped against his bare stomach, the tip glistening with anticipation. Merlin wrapped his hand around Arthur’s cock. Arthur shuddered at the sensation, bucked his hips up into Merlin’s grasp.
“Oh, fuck, Merlin, please, fuck.”
With his other hand Merlin tugged tight on Arthur’s hair, till his head was thrown back and his neck, glistening and raw and exposed, presented itself. Slowly Merlin oiled his hand up and down the length of Arthur’s cock, squeezing with each passing pulsation. Arthur wound his hands up under Merlin’s shirt, dug his nails into the flesh of his back, leaving half-moon indents deep in his skin.
“Tell me what you want.”
Merlin’s words puffed hot against Arthur’s ear.
“Please, Merlin, please.”
Merlin tugged sharply on Arthur’s hair. Arthur yelped at the sudden pain. A cruel smile wound itself across Merlin’s lips as he sunk his teeth into the nape of Arthur’s neck, suckling the tender flesh.
“Tell me what you want.”
Merlin did not stop stroking Arthur’s cock, but his ministrations slowed, till his fingertips barely ghosted over the red, swollen head. Arthur tried to buck his hips, but Merlin pressed an elbow deep into his thigh, his whole weight leaning forward, pinning Arthur to the desk.
“Tell me what you want.”
Merlin traced each word along the slender curve of Arthur’s earlobe.
“I want…oh fuck, I want…”
Merlin danced a fingernail over the slit of Arthur’s cock, followed a pulsing vein down to the base, circled his fingers round his shaft and squeezed.
“Fuck, fuck, Merlin, I want you. I want you to fuck me. I want to suck your cock and, fuck, anything, anything you want, please, just…please.”
“Now, was that so hard?”
With strength unbecoming of his lithe frame Merlin scooped Arthur into his arms and tossed him onto the bed. The springs shouted as Arthur’s weight bounced once, twice. But before he could sit up and compose himself Merlin was atop him, strong fingers pressing into his wrists, pinning them down onto the mattress. Merlin hovered his face inches above Arthur’s. They blinked their eyes into focus, drinking in the humanity of the other.
Arthur noticed the askew strands of hair plastered by sweat to Merlin’s forehead.
Merlin noticed the faint scar on Arthur’s chin, a school boy football accident.
Arthur noticed a cluster of blackheads just on the tip of Merlin’s nose.
Merlin noticed flecks of gold caught in Arthur’s eyes. Like shards of sunlight.
Both of them noticed the other noticing.
“Fuck me,” Arthur said, matter-of-fact, “before things get weird.”
Merlin pressed to stand, tugging his shirt over his head. Arthur ran his eyes over Merlin’s pale chest, down to the black spittle of hairs, just below his navel. Nipples like pale quarters.
“Oi,” Merlin squawked, hands on the waist of his jeans, “this isn’t a peep show.”
“Then why are your pants still on?”
“Well,” Merlin said as he toppled atop Arthur, pinning down his wrists again, “I am the one in charge here.”
Arthur thought to protest—had even began opening his mouth to do so—but Merlin, at once, ground their hips together, denim clad erection rubbing up against Arthur’s hardness, as he captured Arthur’s mouth in a kiss.
“Were you serious?” Merlin asked. “Earlier. About…”
Arthur couldn’t meet Merlin’s gaze and instead tried to bury his face in his shoulder. Merlin watched his cheeks shade pink to red.
“Yes.”
“So ask for it.”
Merlin rolled off Arthur and stood by the bed, armed crossed across his chest. At length Arthur began to balk and buckle beneath the weight of Merlin’s gaze. His pink flush had begun to creep down his neck and onto his chest.
“I want you to—“ Arthur murmured.
“Louder.”
Arthur swallowed.
“I want you to spank me.”
“How?”
Despite his embarrassment, Arthur couldn’t suppress his ever-hardening erection. Merlin’s stiff, authoritative stance, the “no-nonsense” timbre to his voice, drove Arthur mad.
“With a ruler. Bent over my desk.”
“Bare assed?”
Arthur drew in a breath. A tightness coiled in his chest at the same time a liquid looseness swam through his belly.
“Yes…please.”
“Right then. Stand up.” Merlin ordered with a snap.
Without conscious thought Arthur stood, following Merlin’s haze to the desk. Their study materials lay scattered still, strewn about the floor. The wooden edge bit into Arthur’s abdomen as he bent over the smooth surface. His nipples pebbled at the wood’s cool finish. Tempted though he was, Arthur resisted the urge to look back at Merlin, knowing somehow that this would breach some unspoken law. Merlin intended him to wait.
Arthur had steeled himself for a cracking blow, not for the ghost of Merlin’s fingers on the small of his back, dancing up his spine to lose themselves in the hairs tickling the nape of his neck.
A strange thrill shimmered through Arthur, electrifying his skin. To be naked, so exposed, before Merlin…his bobbed up against the underside of the desk, the head red and dripping.
“I want you to count them.”
“Yes.”
Arthur felt the cool touch of the ruler, ever so lightly pressing into the supple flesh of his ass.
“Yes, what?”
The crack rang throughout the room as fire blossomed across Arthur’s ass. The ruler had stung like lightening. The air rushed from my lungs as he topped over onto the desk.
“Sir,” Arthur yelped, “yes, sir. One, sir.”
Again, like needles across his cheeks as Merlin smacked the ruler over Arthur’s ass.
“Two, sir!” Arthur yowled like a child, his voice wobbly and weak.
The tears came after the fourth stroke; just tiny pinpricks at first but by stroke six Arthur was openly bawling, cheeks wet and dripping.
“S-seven, s-s-sir,” Arthur sobbed, fingernails digging into the desk. His back was damp with sweat. His legs wobbled and shook. His ass felt inflamed; each jiggle stung.
Merlin reared back and brought the ruler down hard across the red skin of Arthur’s ass.
“Stop, please, sir, p-please,” Arthur bawled, pleading, “no more, please.”
For a moment Merlin watched Arthur, chest heaving and wracked with tear-heavy sobs, thighs flexed and tender, the weight of his body pitched forward onto his toes, face flush against the desk. He let his hands drift down to his crotch, squeezing himself through the euphoric tightness of his jeans. Arthur’s balls hung heavy before Merlin, Arthur’s cock engorged and dripping onto the floor. It was almost too much to resist.
“One more.”
Arthur sobbed, pressing his forehead down onto the desk, despondent. But he did not argue.
Thunder across his ass, and Arthur yelled, truly yelled, so loud that even then he worried that maybe his neighbors had heard him. But then the pain spread across his ass and down his thighs and into his very backbone and Arthur was sobbing, collapsing onto the desk and slipping down, back into Merlin’s outstretched arms.
“Now, now, I’ve got you.”
Merlin sshed and whispered softly to Arthur as he lifted him onto the bed. Like a mother bird, Merlin covered himself across Arthur, hugging him in close. Arthur curled his body into Merlin’s.
The scent of Merlin’s cologne, heady and brisk, flooded Arthur’s nose as his breath slowed and deepened. Merlin traced his fingers down Arthur’s back. It felt like wind.
“Are you alright?” Merlin asked, ducking his face to catch Arthur’s eye.
“…yes,” Arthur answered after a prolonged breath, “yes. Thank you.”
Merlin nuzzled his face against Arthur’s cheek, pressing kisses across his forehead and jaw.
“Trust me. The pleasure was all mine.”
Arthur became acutely aware of Merlin’s erection pressing against his thigh. Despite everything, Arthur’s cock still bobbed, painfully hard. Slowly, testing his tender ass, Arthur began to move, grinding backwards against Merlin’s crotch.
“You don’t have to,” Merlin whispered, breath hot against Arthur’s ear, but the hitch in his voice betrayed his true feelings.
“I know,” Arthur answered, moving faster now, “but I want to.”
Merlin gripped his hips as he began to cant his hips in time with Arthur, grinding their bodies together, slow, then faster.
Arthur’s breath came quick, quicker still when Merlin snaked a hand around to grip Arthur’s cock, jacking in time with his thrusts. The rough brush of denim against his throbbing ass was exquisite torture.
“Oh god, Merlin, Merlin I’m going to—ah!” Arthur came all at once, spilling hot onto Merlin’s fingers. The world faded, dimming around the edges, as Arthur collected himself. His body, spent, collapsed backwards against Merlin. His ever present erection pressed against his ass.
Merlin wiped his hand on the sheets and wrapped Arthur tight against his body.
“Did you,” Arthur murmured, sleep quickly claiming him, “did you want to…?”
“Shh, shh,” Merlin hushed, “rest.”
“But you didn’t…”
“I know. I’ll take care of it later.”
“I feel bad though.”
“Don’t. I’ll just spank you for it later.”
A drowsy smile spread against Arthur’s face as he let his head drop onto Merlin’s shoulder.
“For once I’m actually looking forward to our next tutoring session.”
“For once? You wound me,” Merlin said, affecting a hurt tone, which he promptly ruined by planting a kiss on Arthur’s crown. “Get some rest. There’s still actual studying to be done before class tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait,” Arthur mumbled, drifting off to sleep.
“See?” Merlin cooed as he let his eyes drift shut, “and you thought French was nul.”