leashy_bebes | fic: Boys and Their Toys

Title: Boys and Their Toys (1/1)
Pairing: Gwaine/Arthur/Merlin and combinations, but leaning towards Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The boys model hand-harnesses, and then road test them. All in the name of science and healthy competition.
Word Count: ~4500
Notes: This is completely, entirely, utterly the fault of

nuclearsugars. For

tourdefierce who is beautiful and brilliant.
Thanks to

mabonwitch and

ekaterin24 for the beta.
Warnings: Sex-toys. Shameless porn. The pairings make this sound way more complicated than what it is (porn porn porn, Arthur has feelings about Merlin, Gwaine has feelings about sex).
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own, no profit etc.

This should be a job like any other. It's hardly the first time Arthur's modelled high-end sex equipment, after all. He's even done a little work for this company before: on his knees with his hands at the small of his back, chin tilted up towards the woman modelling one of the more traditional harnesses. The pictures are always just on the right side of suggestive, the harnesses never actually loaded up with the promised wide range of toys. Today's shoot is for something called the La Palma and will feature a few guys standing around, wearing the glove-like harness (not loaded with any of the apparently wide-range of toys that fit it), maybe a few set poses. It's nothing special, nothing taxing.

Except when Arthur arrives, Merlin is already there. The lanky little bastard is on the Avalon agency's books like Arthur, so they've worked together a handful of times, and Merlin always finds a way to get under Arthur's skin. He doesn't seem to care at all that Arthur's experience far outstrips his own, and he's always ready with a joke or a teasing comment or something else vaguely unprofessional that Arthur should hate. Instead, he doesn't remember the last time he wanted someone so much. Merlin's already in the makeup girl's chair when Arthur arrives (although, honestly, he doesn't know how they intend to make Merlin's complexion any more flawless and still have him look real). He gives Arthur a cheerful wave and Arthur nods curtly in return.

It's only when he takes a seat behind a couple of other guys in the makeup queue that he notices the man in the chair next to Merlin's. Just wonderful. Of all people it would have to be Gwaine. Arthur's not worked with him in a while, but he can see how he'd end up on a shoot like this. He's very handsome, in a rougher way than the rest of them, long hair tied up in a weird bun-like arrangement, scruffy stubble, sharp cheekbones and wicked, mischievous eyes. Much more importantly, he is leaning over to speak to Merlin in a low voice, ignoring the protests of both the makeup girls. Even more importantly, Merlin is leaning in to hear him, comfortable and easy. And most important of all, neither of them bother to hide it when they send speculative looks in Arthur's direction, then share a quiet laugh.

This shoot is going to be more work than Arthur realised.

***

There's a lot of waiting around - there always is. Arthur's in the corridor, done with makeup and hair but still dressed in his own grey jogging bottoms and zip-up hoodie, when Merlin and Gwaine appear from nowhere and drop into chairs on either side of him.

"Hi," Merlin says, with the same smile as ever, so open and friendly that Arthur half-suspects a joke. "I wanted to introduce you to Gwaine."

"Oh, we already know each other," Gwaine says, dropping a hand to Arthur's knee.

Arthur picks up Gwaine's hand and removes it from his person as though it were a bug. "If you can call it that." Because fucking a few (brilliant – holy shit, amazing) times doesn't mean they know each other, and doesn't mean Gwaine's irreverence is any less grating.

"Oh," Merlin says, sounding a bit put-out. "Well."

"Sorry, Merlin," Gwaine says, reaching around Arthur to pat Merlin's shoulder. "Ignore Arthur. I bring out the worst in him."

"You do that to everyone," Merlin tells him as he nudges Arthur. "Sorry about him."

Arthur tries not to grind his teeth. Gwaine and Merlin are already in tight black jeans for the shoot, and they each have a harness strapped onto their right hands. Arthur feels at a disadvantage for reasons he can't even begin to explain. He can't help wondering what they're up to, and why exactly Merlin is so very comfortable with Gwaine of all people, who is nothing but a rotten flirt (and, all right, admittedly, a brilliant fuck). They settle into conversation and seated in the middle of them, Arthur is forced to join in at least a little. It's that or leave, and he doesn't want to risk getting a reputation for being too temperamental.

Eventually, as it always does on these types of shoots, the talk turns to the device they're modelling. Personally, Arthur can't see the point of them, but apparently Merlin and Gwaine both feel differently.

"These things are the work of a genius," Gwaine says, turning his hand this way and that, admiring the glove.

"Right?" Merlin agrees from Arthur's other side. "You reckon they'll give me a freebie?"

"They better," Gwaine says. "Perks of the job, right?" He sounds much too invested in whether Merlin gets a free sample.

"Why would you even want one?" Arthur asks. "They're ridiculous."

Merlin and Gwaine shoot him identical looks of disbelief.

"Are you serious?" Merlin demands, tapping the harness against Arthur's knee. "In what universe are these not the best idea ever?"

"Er – in a universe where god gave us fingers?" Arthur suggests, waggling his own to remind them why these harnesses are utterly redundant. To his consternation they both laugh as though what he's said is the height of humour rather than flawless reasoning.

"What?" Merlin asks. "Never fingered someone til your hand cramped up?"

The brat is even cockier with Gwaine around, like they're feeding off each other, and Arthur doesn't like it one bit.

"Nah," Gwaine says. "Arthur here's more of a one finger-two fingers-three fingers-cock kind of guy."

Merlin snorts with laughter. Arthur hates them both. So much. He gets called into wardrobe before he can even defend himself.

***

The shoot itself is murder. The group shots aren't the worst thing in the world, even though Merlin keeps grinning at him, and Gwaine keeps giving him these cat's-eyes smiles, but it's manageable. Then Arthur has to stay while the photographer decides that what he really needs are some posed shots of Merlin and Gwaine. The first - Merlin with his back to Gwaine's chest, Gwaine's hand in the harness pressed above the crisp dark hairs on Merlin's stomach - is bad enough. Worse by far when they stand face-to-face, only inches apart, for a close-up of Gwaine's gloved hand on Merlin's pale waist.

"Arthur," the photographer says in a contemplative tone that Arthur has learned to dread. "Get over here, would you? The rest of you, I think we're done here. Thanks, everyone."

Gwaine and Merlin don't move from their pose while the photographer flits about, talking about lighting and their combined look. Arthur watches as Gwaine leans in, almost close enough to kiss. Instead he whispers something to Merlin, something that makes him give a soft, intimate little laugh. All in all, it's probably worse than a kiss.

"All right, Arthur, if you could stand behind Merlin, hand on his hip." Arthur moves to do so and the photographer goes on, "Gwaine, I want your hand up near Merlin's jaw like you're reaching for his face. You know the drill, gents: no lower body contact, we want to keep it clean but suggestive."

"We don't get to have any fun," Gwaine says with a tragic little sigh.

Merlin makes a noise of agreement and settles his hip more comfortably into Arthur's grip.

The click of the camera and the directions they receive fade into a dull background rumble. Arthur imagines the photographer will get some excellent shots out of it. That doesn't make him feel that much better about the fact that Gwaine's flirting - with Arthur and Merlin both - pushes the line between acting the part and being a complete tosser

By the time they shoot the last image - Merlin sprawled on his back on the couch, Arthur with a hand on his chest and Gwaine with one on his thigh, both harnesses shown off to full effect - Arthur is at least half-hard, and he knows the others both are as well.

So he knows where it's going when the three of them are changing back into their street clothes and Merlin says, after a silent conference with Gwaine, "We were going to grab a drink. Fancy joining us?"

Arthur looks at Merlin's hopeful face, the brash jut of Gwaine's hip where he's leaning against the door frame, watching them both. "Yeah," he says. "Okay."

***

They don't even bother making a decent pretence of it. They hit a bar just long enough for Arthur to work out that yes, Merlin and Gwaine have worked together before and no, they haven't fucked each other yet. He should not feel nearly so relieved as he does.

After a couple of drinks he's feeling looser, relaxed, and he's not inclined to complain when Gwaine's hand skims up and down his side while they both look at the long line of Merlin's body where he's leaning against the bar.

"Fuck this," Gwaine says, draining his drink and setting the glass down on the bar decisively. "My place is around the corner."

***

Gwaine's flat really is just around the corner, and Arthur feels like maybe only three or four heartbeats pass between leaving the bar and Merlin kissing him in Gwaine's hallway. It's a breathless, tense kiss, like Merlin's been working up to it for a while. His mouth tastes of the dark rum he drank at the bar, hot and spicy and promising, and when they part he says, "God, I've wanted to do that since - well, yeah." And then he touches his fingers to Arthur's jaw and kisses him again.

This time Arthur gets himself together a lot more effectively, taking over the kiss and drinking down the soft whine Merlin gives in response. Slim fingers yank at his zip, shove his jacket off his shoulders, and dance under his t-shirt. Distantly, he hears Gwaine locking the door, making a noise of appreciation. Merlin pulls Arthur closer and hell, they're models for fuck's sake, neither of them can resist putting on a show. Their tongues tangle, lazy and obvious, and Merlin rocks their hips together. As Arthur gets his hands in between Merlin's shirt and jacket, soaking up the heat of his skin, he feels Gwaine pressed against Merlin's back, rifling through the pockets of his jacket.

"What're you doing?" Arthur asks. Merlin grumbles as the kiss ends but he transfers his attention to Arthur's jaw, leaving Arthur to crane his neck to catch a glimpse of Gwaine's wicked smile, highlighted by the soft glow of the streetlights outside.

"Knew it," Gwaine says triumphantly. He pulls his hand out of Merlin's jacket and comes up holding one of the glove harnesses from the shoot. "You jammy bugger, they wouldn't let me have one."

"What can I say," Merlin murmurs, his voice a soft rumble against Arthur's throat. "I am very charming."

Gwaine laughs and Arthur sees his fingers curl around Merlin's jaw, pulling him in. They kiss right in front of Arthur, wet and messy and it's – fuck, Gwaine's rugged, dangerous sexiness against Merlin's smooth, sweet perfection is glorious.

"I think," Gwaine says, and he reaches past Merlin to hook his hand around Arthur's hip, "that we should put your scepticism to the test."

"Huh?"

"Yeah," Gwaine says, stepping back a little and letting the harness dangle from his forefinger. "A little battle," he offers. "Man against machine."

"You're a genius," Merlin informs Gwaine before Arthur can offer an opinion. "Do you have anything that'll fit it?"

"Please," Gwaine says, apparently wounded. "This is me you're talking to."

"You both talk a lot," Arthur points out and Gwaine laughs, reaching further around Merlin to cop a feel of Arthur's arse.

"Not for much longer, sweetheart," he promises.

Which is how they end up in the bedroom, Arthur pushing Merlin down into Gwaine's sumptuous king-sized bed. He can hear Gwaine looking through a vaguely intimidating drawer of sex toys, but all he's really thinking about is stripping Merlin out of his clothes, getting his hands and his mouth all over that lean, slender body. When he gets Merlin naked Arthur slides against him, his hips pushing Merlin's thighs apart. Merlin tips his chin up for a kiss and Arthur makes him wait for it, licking at the shape of his mouth, catching Merlin's plump lower lip between his teeth and tugging gently. Merlin makes an impatient noise and hooks his legs around Arthur's. It's impossible to hold off on kissing him then, slow and heated.

"Nice," Gwaine says appreciatively, reminding Arthur sharply of his presence.

Merlin's dark eyes glance over Arthur's shoulder at Gwaine. "Found something?"

"Oh, yeah," Gwaine says in a tone Arthur doesn't like at all.

"Let me see," he demands quickly.

Behind him Gwaine huffs in apparent disappointment. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"If you think I'm letting you choose what goes up my arse without seeing it first, you're dafter than you look."

"No trust," Gwaine says, pressing a biting kiss to Arthur's hip. "That's your problem."

"When it comes to you, that's not a problem, mate," Arthur points out.

Beneath him Merlin arches and digs his fingers into Arthur's hair. "I love it when you fling your testosterone around, guys, seriously."

"He really does. Little slut," Gwaine says affectionately. There's a brief rustling noise and then Gwaine appears, kneeling at their side, holding his hand out, palm-up, towards Arthur. The harness is back in place and there's a sleek black dildo attached to it. It's flared a little at the base, as thick and long as two fingers, maybe three if they were slender like Merlin's. Arthur still thinks it looks a bit ridiculous but he's turned on enough to want it, and if it means he gets his hands on Merlin then all the better.

"All right?" Gwaine asks, teasing. "Not too scared, princess?"

"Oh, honestly, fuck off," Arthur mutters.

Merlin's eyes flick back and forth between the two of them and he spreads his legs wider, tilting his hips up into Arthur's. "You two are so cute," he says. Arthur scoffs but before he can get any further Merlin reaches past him to grab Gwaine's wrist. "Lemme see that."

He pushes himself up on his elbows and examines the harness and dildo, giving Arthur the opportunity to do the same without letting Gwaine think he's too curious (or nervous). Arthur can't help noticing the surprisingly soft look on Gwaine's face as he watches Merlin turn his hand this way and that, looking with a professional eye. Gwaine catches Arthur looking and he shifts on his knees, pulling his hand away from Merlin's grip.

" Here," he says, lifting his hand to Merlin's jaw like he had in the photo-shoot, except this time he makes it all the way, fingertips slipping over Merlin's skin. "Merlin, get it wet."

Merlin's lips part on a soft moan and Arthur thinks his brain is just going to short out completely. Gwaine's hand is right over Merlin's mouth and the black harness looks stark against his pale skin. His eyes look bright blue under the messy fall of his hair as he looks from Arthur to Gwaine and back again.

"Oh, fuck," Gwaine says. "That is – "

"Yeah," Arthur agrees, his voice a little strangled.

Gwaine has his free hand between his legs, squeezing roughly through the denim and Arthur doesn't know where to look. When Arthur drags his hands up Merlin's chest he groans around his mouthful and there's a soft, wet noise that has Arthur and Gwaine exchanging hungry glances.

"Get on with it," Arthur tells him. "I've got to – "

"Yeah," Gwaine says. "Yeah, okay."

As soon as Gwaine lifts his hand from Merlin's mouth Arthur kisses him, kisses him right into breathlessness until Merlin pushes at his shoulders, demanding. Arthur backs down the length of Merlin's body until he's hunched between Merlin's spread legs.

"Further," Gwaine says, pulling at Arthur's thigh. "You trying to limit my access to your arse definitely counts as sabotage."

Loudly, Arthur says, "He's such a romantic, Merlin. I can see why you like him."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Gwaine says cheerfully.

"Shut up and give me some lube."

Gwaine retreats for a moment and Arthur hears him rummaging in the drawer while he mutters, "There we go, patented Pendragon romance right there."

When he feels the bed dip under Gwaine's weight again Arthur shifts impatiently and nibbles at the tense line of Merlin's inner thigh to distract himself. He feels the slick rub of Gwaine's thumb over his arsehole and muffles a little noise against Merlin's skin.

"Ah, god. Been a while since we did this, huh?" Gwaine asks.

"Shut up, you tart."

"Please don't," Merlin pipes up, sounding like there's nothing he'd like better than hearing about what Arthur and Gwaine have got up to in the past.

"Here," Gwaine says, and he presses an open tube of lubricant into Arthur's hand.

"Finally," Arthur mutters. Gwaine continues, rubbing around his hole, never quite dipping inside, but making sure Arthur is good and wet. Arthur barely notices because Merlin's eyes latch onto his the moment he starts slicking his fingers and right now Gwaine could start singing the greatest hits of disco and Arthur wouldn't give a fuck. Merlin tips his hips up like an offering, rubs his toes along Arthur's calf.

"Come on, Arthur," he says. And then, "Fuck me, give me your fingers." The last of Arthur's reserve crumbles and he rubs wet fingers through the crease of Merlin's arse, passing on the same teasing touches Gwaine's giving him.

Merlin is as responsive as the very filthiest of Arthur's fantasies, arching and writhing underneath him, trying everything he can to work Arthur's fingers into him.

"Fuck, that's – " Gwaine says. "That is – "

"You just watching the show there?" Arthur asks, feels Gwaine's denim-covered erection grinding against his hip.

"Gotta start our little contest on an even footing, so to speak," Gwaine says. "I'll just wait for you to catch up."

Arthur rewards Merlin's efforts with the smooth inward press of one finger. Merlin groans and digs his fingers into the sheets. "Get on with it, you tosser, god," he demands, when Arthur pulls out. Merlin throws his head back into the pillows and Arthur feels Gwaine laughing against his nape when he very deliberately returns with only one finger.

Merlin's fingers scrabble at Arthur's arm and he says, "For crying out loud, Arthur!"

And Arthur hadn't even realised that was what he was waiting for, to hear Merlin say his name in that tone that's half plea-half order. While Arthur settles two fingers into the clutching heat of Merlin's arse he feels the smoothly rounded tip of the toy against his own entrance. It seems particularly wet and Arthur supposes Gwaine lubed it up. For all that it makes the slow inward slide easier Arthur can't help wishing it could be just Merlin's spit easing the way instead, the dildo still hot from his mouth. As the short length of it settles inside him, Arthur groans. It's long and thick enough for him to be aware of it, but not enough for him to draw his own pleasure from it. For that, he'll have to rely on Gwaine. From the chuckle against his shoulder, Arthur reckons Gwaine has reached the same conclusion.

Ignoring Gwaine's smugness for now Arthur concentrates instead on the perfect heat of Merlin's body, the way he only has to crook one finger slightly to get a gorgeous reaction. Merlin hums and stretches like he's utterly content and Arthur presses in deeper, the weight of his whole hand behind it, making Merlin groan and crack one eye open. It's almost all pupil, aroused and fascinated and daring.

Merlin brushes the backs of his knuckles over Arthur's cheek and says, "Come on, Gwaine. I wanna hear him."

Agreeable in a way he's never been when it's just the two of them, Gwaine palms Arthur's flank with his free hand and says. "Yeah, okay."

Arthur shifts, trying not to hold his breath while Gwaine plays around for a bit, getting a feel for the harness until he finds a movement he likes. Arthur finds he's not totally averse to it either because it sends the toy in and out of him in smooth, continuous movements. The only thing to dislike about it is the fact that it makes it harder to focus on Merlin. Arthur hates to admit it, but Gwaine knows just what he likes and is pretty ruthless about exploiting it. And the harness, well, Arthur has to give that some points too, because it leaves Gwaine's fingers free to do all kinds of wicked things to Arthur's skin. When Gwaine stretches to press his fingers against the hot skin behind Arthur's balls it makes the toy shift inside him, pressing firm, the flared base stretching him out.

"Ah, fuck," Arthur says, gritting it out because he really doesn't want to give Gwaine the satisfaction. Merlin smiles though, makes it all worthwhile when his eyes flick over Arthur's face. He raises a hand, cups Arthur's cheek in his palm and lifts his hips, sheathing Arthur's fingers in perfect heat. The dildo held firm in the hollow of Gwaine's palm is unyielding inside Arthur and he works his arse around it, the same rhythm he uses to fuck his fingers into Merlin's hole.

He shifts up higher, straining for a kiss from Merlin's soft mouth, forcing Gwaine to move with him. He feels Merlin's mouth shape good, good, yeah against his lips and takes him in a rough, sloppy kiss, liking the way it makes Gwaine groan. Merlin's fingers slide into Arthur's hair, pulling hard enough to throw him off his rhythm.

Arthur hadn't planned to help Gwaine out but he can't help rocking his hips, riding the pleasure. Gwaine does something wicked to the angle of his hand and Arthur cries out into Merlin's mouth, fingers stilling inside him.

"God," Merlin says, looking behind Arthur to Gwaine. "Do that again."

And Gwaine does, this incredible twisting movement like he's memorised every one of Arthur's sensitive spots and is doing his best to hit every single one. Gwaine tilts his hand so the smooth tip of the dildo presses against Arthur's prostate with unrelenting pressure. "How're you doing there?" Gwaine asks conversationally.

"Nnng."

"Uh huh?" Gwaine goes on as though Arthur's actually making sense. "Because I could go all night, seriously, this thing's good."

"Hate – you both," Arthur grits out.

Merlin shifts underneath him, working himself on Arthur's fingers. "What'd I do?"

"You encouraged him," Arthur informs him.

"Well you're doing something right," Merlin tells Gwaine. "He's barely moving."

"God, shut up," Arthur mutters and he gets back to it, fingering Merlin like he means it this time.

"Oh god yeah," Merlin says. "Like that, shit, left a little, oh fuck!"

And that, Arthur thinks triumphantly as Merlin bucks almost hard enough to unsettle them all, is why fingers win. Over Merlin's breathless chanting – oh yeah, fuck yeah, Arthur, oh, oh – Arthur can hear the fast slapping of his fingers fucking Merlin's tight hole, wetter and sloppier the longer it goes on. He wants Merlin to come first, partly to prove a point to Gwaine but mainly so he can keep his focus on Merlin, not get distracted by his own pleasure and end up giving Merlin anything less than the time of his fucking life.

So when Merlin squirms a hand in between their bodies Arthur doesn't object, just crooks his fingers towards that spot that's been making Merlin yell, and watches his face. He's almost anxious with the need to see Merlin's orgasm, revel in every second of it, glory in it. With Gwaine there Arthur should probably be embarrassed at the encouragement he whispers to Merlin, full of sweetheart and babe and beautiful.

Gwaine – contrary sod – seems to be on a one-man mission to make them come at the same time, punishing Arthur with wave after wave of pleasure. For all he bitches about Gwaine, the man is definitely something of a master at this. Maybe some of his cocky attitude might be justified after all. Arthur's hand cramps crazily but he keeps on fucking Merlin and he feels this crazy surge of pride when he gets Merlin there first. He's surprisingly quiet when he actually comes, given what he's been babbling before. It's lovely though, his mouth soft and slack and right there for Arthur to kiss. Merlin's hands scramble over Arthur's skin and the heat inside him seems to leap higher as he works his hand between their bodies, bringing himself over the edge.

"I win," Arthur tells Gwaine on a breathless huff.

"That's not how it works," Gwaine informs him, shifting his hand ever so slightly against Arthur, making him hiss in a breath. "I could keep on like this for ages."

"Don't you dare," Arthur says. Gwaine just laughs but when Merlin says, "No, don't," then he gives in, going to town on Arthur and making him see sparks in an embarrassingly short space of time. Arthur's distantly aware of Merlin's hands on his face, pulling him down to kiss him through his orgasm and breathing on me, Jesus fucking Christ, Arthur, come on me. And Arthur does, grinding back against the not-enough solidity inside him, forward into the hot press of Merlin's body.

They collapse together, Arthur unable to stop stealing kiss after kiss. He feels the bed shift as Gwaine moves to sprawl at their side.

"You two are as pretty as a picture," he declares, and Arthur glances over at him. He's got rid of the harness, jeans shoved down around his thighs, one hand stroking his cock in slow, squeezing gestures. Just like always, Arthur feels much better disposed towards Gwaine after he's come and he shares a glance with Merlin.

"You know," he tells Gwaine casually, reaching out to grab his wrist and hold his hand still. "I think you've been far too smug about this whole thing. Don't you, Merlin?"

"Oh, absolutely," Merlin agrees, although to be fair, he looks like he'd agree with just about anything Arthur says right now. "Very smug."

"Yeah," Arthur says. "And I'm thinking...payback?"

"Payback," Merlin says, turning onto his stomach. "Payback sounds good."

Gwaine looks amused and aroused and just a little wary. "Come on, then, big man," he tells Arthur. "Show me what you've got."

Arthur and Merlin share a glance and Merlin scoffs, "Listen to him, honestly."

Arthur grins. "Pretty sure we can teach him a thing or two."

And so they do.

***

In the morning, they wake Gwaine up with their whispering. He grumpily tells them that if they're not going to fuck again they can bugger off and make eyes at each other somewhere else. So they do that, sliding off to a cafe down the road for breakfast.

It feels unexpectedly pleasant to sit with Merlin, to steal the last slice of toast off his plate and receive a gentle fork to the back of his hand for his troubles. Merlin has an appointment in the afternoon but before he leaves they swap numbers. Arthur isn't even halfway home before his phone chimes with a message: btw, swiped the harness from Gwaine's before we left. see you soon ;)

Current Mood: sleepy

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From:

marguerite-26.livejournal.com

\o/ I was just poking about thinking - what should I read tonight! YAYAY!
*prints*

From:

doing things you hate is just the price you pay to avoid loneliness

fic: Boys and Their Toys

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