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Arthur wakes up to sunlight in his eyes and the light graze of fingertips along his thigh. There’s a slight chill against his face, but under the covers, everything is warm and comfortable. The briefs he fell asleep reading are stacked neatly on the nightstand, though he doesn’t remember putting them there, and he makes a tired noise as the touch on his skin moves a little more deliberately.
“What time is it?” he mumbles, rolling over to where Merlin lies beside him, his body warm against his, wearing an old, thin tee shirt and a pair of boxers.
Merlin’s nimble fingers slide up Arthur’s bare chest, thumbing over his nipple as he pauses.
“Nearly seven,” Merlin replies, his mouth very close to Arthur’s. Arthur can feel his breath though he hasn’t gathered the strength to open his eyes.
“Mmm,” Arthur hums softly. He doesn’t want to get up. He’d rather stay there all day and never face the cold crispness of the morning or the agonizing rush of traffic into the city. “I have to go to work.”
Merlin’s lips press against the side of his mouth, soft and easy. His palm spreads over Arthur’s heart, a warm pressure that makes Arthur smile despite the early hour and the prospect of having to get up and go to work.
“Not yet,” Merlin says, and there’s something in his tone that makes Arthur open his eyes finally.
Beside him, Merlin’s mouth is curled into a half-smile, hidden in the pillow. He’s close enough that their cold noses brush together, and he looks much more awake than Arthur feels.
“Merlin,” Arthur says slowly, taking a breath as Merlin snuggles in closer, a long leg sliding between his, and Merlin’s hand moving up to his collar bone.
Merlin’s lips graze the corner of his mouth again, sliding down to his chin, teeth grazing along the skin. His hips push up against Arthur’s, and Arthur can feel Merlin’s arousal. A thrill runs through his stomach, the same as it always has, especially when Merlin tongues at his jaw insistently.
“I’ll be late,” Arthur protests, or tries to. He can feel any resolve he has slipping away with every passing second that Merlin mouths at his skin.
“S’okay,” Merlin murmurs, sucking a mark onto Arthur’s neck, and thank God Arthur has to wear a tie that will cover it up. “You can be late. Your father owns the firm.”
“Another reason I can’t be late,” Arthur says, but Merlin doesn’t appear to be listening, and Arthur barely feels like protesting when Merlin pushes closer, climbing on top of him under the covers. “I have a nine o’clock meeting.”
“We’ve got hours,” Merlin says, pulling off his shirt, and Arthur gazes up at him.
Merlin is just as beautiful as the first time Arthur had seen him, almost a year ago at some art gallery Gwen had dragged him to. He may actually be more beautiful considering that first meeting had ended with Arthur insulting Merlin’s paintings and Merlin stalking away.
They’ve come a long way, but that won’t make Arthur any less late if he lets Merlin have his way.
“No—” he tries to correct him, but his explanation about traffic and showering and coffee is lost to Merlin’s mouth, Merlin’s talented tongue that can do wicked things to him late at night and apparently early in the morning as well.
He barely groans, hands reaching for Merlin’s bony shoulders and gripping tightly as Merlin pushes his tongue deep inside his mouth. He isn’t surprised that when Merlin’s hands reach his boxers and pull them down, he’s hard.
“Merlin,” he says a second later, pushing Merlin back, grappling for control over his senses. Everything feels a little blurry now, though, and the bed covers are growing entirely too hot despite the chill in the rest of the room.
Merlin’s black hair sticks up at odd angles as Arthur pushes him back, his blue eyes blinking at Arthur, like a confused owl, and Arthur just wants to smooth the expression away.
Merlin doesn’t let him, though. Instead, he brushes off Arthur’s hands holding him back, wriggling his hips down onto Arthur’s, and Arthur has to bite back his noise at the pressure of Merlin’s cock against his.
Leaning in, Merlin’s lips trail along Arthur’s neck, up to his ear where he whispers, “I want to ride you. I want you to go to work still thinking about your cock in my ass. I want you to spend all day waiting to come home so you can fuck me properly - in the kitchen, on the dining room table, over the sofa.”
Arthur groans, feeling all resolve leaving him. “Fuck, Merlin.”
Merlin punctuates his sentences with a dig of his hips, rocking down against Arthur. There’s too much heat, too much unresolved friction for Arthur to think clearly, and he reaches down for Merlin’s hips, fingers digging into the skin as he struggles to take a deep breath.
He doesn’t know what brought this on, but he isn’t really complaining. He loves when Merlin gets like this, horny and hot and begging for it. He just wishes it didn’t happen when he has a meeting to get to.
“Come on, Arthur,” Merlin mutters, the words scraped against his jaw. “Please.”
It’s the ‘please’ that really gets Arthur - that and Merlin’s hand circling around both their cocks and stroking. It’s like a punch to the gut, but in an entirely good way that makes his prick harder, blood rushing, and he feels the wetness of precum from Merlin’s.
“I don’t have time for this,” Arthur says even as he stretches over to the nightstand for the lube.
A smile breaks Merlin’s face, though, and Arthur doesn’t regret agreeing for a second.
Merlin takes the lube from his hand, shimmying down and spreading it over Arthur’s prick. Arthur bites back his moan, closing his eyes and concentrating on the slide of Merlin’s hand, soft and smooth but firm as he prepares Arthur.
Merlin prepares himself next, and Arthur opens his eyes to watch, the covers falling down as Merlin sits up, revealing the stretch of their bodies. Merlin’s long legs bracket Arthur’s, and Arthur watches eagerly as Merlin presses a finger inside his body.
The first time Arthur saw Merlin, he can’t say he thought he was traditionally good-looking, with large ears and horrible fashion sense, but when Merlin had smiled for the first time, Arthur had been good and fucked from then on. It had been surprisingly difficult to get Merlin to go out with him at first, especially since the painting-insult incident, but Arthur had prevailed in the end.
A year later, he has Merlin kneeling over him, fingers working their way past the muscles of his ass, Merlin’s cock red and shiny with precum, and he watches how Merlin licks his lips as he works himself open for Arthur.
Arthur’s cock twitches eagerly, and he shifts below Merlin. They may not have time for this, but he wants it.
“Come here,” he says finally, grabbing Merlin and yanking him down, dragging him into a kiss. It’s teeth and tongues, panted breath when they part, and Merlin’s hand reaching for Arthur’s cock and stroking it slowly as he positions himself.
Merlin breaks from Arthur’s mouth with a sharp breath as he sinks down, moving slowly as Arthur’s cock presses into his body.
Arthur loves to watch this, as the feeling of warmth, tight and squeezing around his cock, fills him, and Merlin’s eyes flutter shut for half a second, his mouth falling open. He loves the way the muscles in Merlin’s body stretch and tighten, how the flush crawls up his chest after the first few moments, how he always takes a few seconds to adjust, moving slowly.
Arthur shifts, hips pushing up into Merlin once, sharp and fast, and Merlin gasps, eyes opening and staring down at Arthur. The blue is intense, burning into his eyes as Merlin starts to move. Arthur feels every shift, every change in position, feels it deep in his body, the tightness around his cock almost too much to take.
“Fuck,” he mutters, stretching his neck back as his and Merlin’s body roll together, a smooth rhythm that’s just slow enough for the morning, all warm and easy. His hands rest on Merlin’s thighs, keeping him steady, keeping himself grounded as the heat steals over him, pressure coiling in his stomach as he feels it in his cock, tight and heavy.
“Oh, God,” Merlin gasps, chin falling forward, and his whole body moves with Arthur’s hips, up and down, their rhythm falling apart. “Yeah, right there, yeah.”
The bed squeaks, springs bouncing with their movements, and the chill is gone completely from Arthur’s skin as he pushes up into Merlin. He doesn’t care what time it is, if he’ll be late and his father will chew him out for missing the beginning of a client meeting, not if it means feeling like this, knowing he can get off like this with Merlin in the mornings. Sure, he should care that Merlin can apparently get him to do anything he wants with the prospect of a shag. He should care but he doesn’t.
He doesn’t when Merlin’s mouth falls open and his hips stutter up, breath shortening, and his fingers dig into Arthur’s sides.
“Come on,” Arthur murmurs, pushing his cock in deeper, feeling the hot slide as it presses through muscles, the squeeze against him. “Come for me.”
Merlin reaches for his cock, jerking frantically, wet and slippery, and Arthur doesn’t slow down, pushing in harder, faster. He needs to get off. They both do.
“Oh, oh fuck!” Merlin bends forward, barely catching himself with a hand against the mattress as he comes.
Arthur grinds his hips upward, pressing against Merlin as Merlin shakes, his ass tightened over his prick. Arthur isn’t going to last long, not with the way Merlin makes those little noises, soft and high-pitched.
He runs his hand over the flush on Merlin’s chest. He wants Merlin’s skin, and he tugs Merlin down, mouth closing over Merlin’s nipple. His hand slides up Merlin’s lower back, pressing him down.
Merlin’s hand goes to the back of his neck, groaning as Arthur sucks on his skin. Arthur laves the nipple, barely holding on as his pushes into Merlin. Deeper, harder, faster. He needs this now.
“Shit,” he hears Merlin breath in his ear. “Arthur.”
Arthur bites down on Merlin’s neck when he comes, hips still pushing up, bed springs protesting loudly, but Arthur can only focus on the flush racing over his skin, the tightness in his stomach unwinding until he feels strung-out and completely spent.
“Unh,” he breathes, hand sliding down Merlin’s back, stroking over his spine. Still inside Merlin, he doesn’t make any moves to get up.
Merlin smiles when Arthur sinks into the bed. “Morning.”
“I’m gonna be late,” Arthur replies, pushing a hand into Merlin’s sweaty hair. He doesn’t even want to check the clock.
“It was worth it,” Merlin says, kissing him slowly.
Though Arthur won’t agree when Uther bears down on him later and demands an explanation, he can’t bring himself to argue with Merlin.
“Besides,” Merlin says, stretching out on top of Arthur, a warm weight that staves off the returning chill of the air. “Now when you’re sitting in that briefing about the scumbag who murdered his wife, you can just think about coming home and shagging me silly.”
“You’re so not helping,” Arthur says, groaning and trying to push Merlin away.
Merlin lets him wiggle out from under him, rolling into a sitting position and rubbing his face. A glance at the clock tells him that he is definitely going to be late. Damn Merlin and his sex drive.
Sliding over, Merlin slides his arms around Arthur, hugging him from behind and leaning in to kiss below his ear.
“Come home early and I’ll suck you off before dinner,” Merlin promises.
It just makes it harder to actually get up, but Arthur forces himself to pull away from Merlin’s kisses.
“I really am going to be late,” he says, rummaging in the wardrobe for his clothes. When he looks back, Merlin sits on the bed, looking slightly disgruntled.
He gets his trousers on and buttons his shirt quickly, returning to Merlin.
“I’ll try to be home at a decent hour.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s lips.
“Just tell Uther you’re going home to fuck your boyfriend.”
Arthur laughs, pulling on his tie and checking the clock again. “That’d go over well.” He gets it tied and tightens the knot. He kisses Merlin again, a little longer this time. “Save that blow job for me.”
Merlin smiles, eyes sparkling as Arthur moves away. “I will.”
Arthur doesn’t want to go, but he has to, and when he makes it to the office, he’s a good fifteen minutes late. No one in the front office says a word about it, and he heads for the meeting room. It’s already filled wih people and there’s no way to slip in unnoticed.
Uther gives him a sharp look as he enters and takes his seat, attempting to pretend that he isn’t late.
“As I was saying about the Meyer case,” Uther says, a testy tone to his voice that Arthur knows is directed at him.
Arthur isn’t listening as his mobile vibrates with a new text.
When you get home, you’re going to take your tie, bind me to the headboard, and shag me until we’re both raw.
Arthur swallows down the lump in his throat, wills down the growing hardness in his cock, and tries to focus on what Uther is saying.
It’s going to be a very long day.
*
FIN.