leashy_bebes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
leashy_bebes) wrote2011-08-29 01:35 am
leashy_bebes) wrote2011-08-29 01:35 am
Entry tags:
fic: See You Roll [1/1]
Title: See You Roll
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Summary: PWP. Arthur and Merlin and a nightclub toilet. Because why not. Drunk (and other unspecified whatever) sex, established relationship.
Notes: (Super) belated birthday present fortourdefierce (hence all the fingers) ♥
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.
Word Count: ~1900
The club is large, dark, dirty bass shaking Arthur's insides. It's easy to lose the others in the crowd, pulling Merlin along with him. They're sweating within moments and Arthur just loves the unfocused intensity to Merlin's stare when he's high. Arthur pulls him in to dance, locking their hips together. Merlin's breath shudders but his hands find a grip on Arthur's hip and the back of his neck.
Arthur kisses him, wet and hungry and with the echo of mine, mine, mine rolling through his head. Merlin moans into his mouth, all vibration, the sound of it lost in the sweltering air. Arthur digs his fingers in harder and scrabbles to get them under Merlin's tight t-shirt, fingers momentarily obsessed with the crisp curls of hair pointing the way down into Merlin's low-slung jeans. He scratches over Merlin's quivering belly and around to the small of his back, and there's just no way what they're doing could be called dancing now.
Merlin's pretty much riding Arthur's thigh, muffling his pleasure into Arthur's mouth. He might have a fraction on Arthur in height when he's not slouching to get a better angle to rub his dick over Arthur's thigh, but he feels so small and slight like this, Arthur's hands so tight around his waist that his fingers are practically touching, making it easy to direct him. Arthur loves how easy it would be to bend Merlin in half, even if in reality it's Arthur getting folded in on himself more often than not, because Arthur has this thing about getting fucked where it turns his brain inside out, and Merlin has this – smug, fucking amazing thing – about giving Arthur more than he ever knew to ask for.
Someone tries to cut in – or join in, Arthur's not sure – but he sends them off with a glare anyway, kisses turning hotter and hungrier until Merlin's running a soothing hand over his chest, pulling him through the masses of people, heading for the outside edge of the room. They fumble their way to the toilets, kissing and groping haphazardly, painfully obvious but Arthur pointedly could not care less. What does it matter who knows that he cannot get enough of this passionate, gorgeous, infuriating man? They trip over each other's feet on their way in and Merlin laughs against Arthur's mouth as they right themselves.
"Easy, tiger," Merlin murmurs.
Arthur's not sure whether there's even anyone else in here, because he is not taking his eyes off Merlin, not for anything, and Merlin has hold of both of his hands, and is backing into a stall. Arthur follows, crowding him in to get enough room to kick the door shut behind them. Merlin's on him in seconds and Arthur lets himself fall back against the door, tasting smoke and whisky and something bitter on Merlin's tongue. It's the flavour of intoxication and sex, and Arthur doesn't know how he'll ever get enough. He curls his fingers around Merlin's jaw, tongue-fucks his mouth until they're both gasping.
With his fingers still tight, Arthur manages to say, "God, I want you so fucking much."
Merlin wriggles a hand in between them and gropes at the hard length distorting Arthur's jeans. "Come on, birthday boy," he says. "Tell me what you want, and it's yours."
Arthur drops his head, bites Merlin's shoulder through his t-shirt. In the blue-tinged light he can see the marks of his teeth clearly and it makes him even hotter, wanting to put the same marks in red all over Merlin's body. He rears away from the door and turns them around to push Merlin up against the wall instead, pressed so close that they both groan at the sharp bite of Merlin's hipbones.
"Come on," Merlin says, taunting and sparking with lust now too. "What's the matter?" He sucks a path along Arthur's jaw, pausing to nip at the top of his throat. "Cat got your tongue?"
"Finger me," Arthur says, so fast that there's not even a beat between their voices.
"Jesus, Arthur. Jesus – " Merlin doesn't finish that thought, his long fingers hooking in Arthur's collar, pulling it askew, another lewd kiss before Arthur's pushing against him, determined and shaky.
"We can – I've got lube – " Arthur says.
Merlin curls his fingers into the hair at Arthur's nape, pulling firmly. He sounds breathless when he says against Arthur's mouth, "Course you do. My boy scout."
Arthur kisses him again, once, twice, breathless and says, "Don't make me wait."
"No, okay," Merlin says. "Shit. Turn around."
Arthur does, bracing his hands on the wall, feeling Merlin's hands shake just a little as they rifle through his pockets and then shove his jeans halfway down his thighs. He can feel the rough slide of Merlin's denims against the backs of his leg when Merlin squeezes close, face hot against the side of Arthur's throat. Arthur puts his face against his hands and presses back against Merlin, their bodies searing with heat everywhere they touch.
Normally if Arthur wants it just this side of rough he has to spell it out ('hold me down and fuck me, goddamnit!'). Who knows, maybe it's a birthday thing, but Merlin is bloody relentless, his movements just the right shade of cruel as he kicks at Arthur's instep, widening his stance. Arthur hears the click of the little tube he's been carrying around with him all night and tilts his hips back, begging for it without having to resort to words. Merlin scatters kisses over Arthur's nape, while his slick fingers trace through Arthur's cleft, an unbearable tease.
"Come on," Arthur says, and he's man enough to admit to himself that there's a bit of a whine to his tone. Merlin obviously likes it, kisses turning to bites as he works one long finger inside Arthur. One is nothing like enough and it seems like they both know it because Merlin's quick to add another, making Arthur feel the stretch of it. He bites at Arthur's shoulder through his shirt and brings his free hand around to slide under Arthur's shirt, pressing flat against his stomach.
"Good?" he asks and Arthur nods rapidly. He feels Merlin's fingers curl inside him, push deeper, twist and –
"Fuck – " Arthur says breathlessly. He can feel the bass from outside warring with his heartbeat all through his body, heart and cock and arse all beating out a rhythm of need as Merlin finger-fucks his hole, apparently with every intention of making Arthur lose his fucking mind.
"That's it, that's it," Merlin murmurs as Arthur's fingers claw at the wall and he presses his hips back again and again. "Fuck, the way you look," Merlin breathes. "So goddamn hot."
Arthur opens his mouth to reply but Merlin bites his earlobe just as he does, and all that comes out is a cracked little cry.
"Yeah – " Merlin sounds dazed, grinding his denim-clad crotch against Arthur's hip and gasping against the side of his throat. "Shit, anyone that heard this – "
They'd know exactly what the two of them are up to, even if Arthur wasn't rapidly losing control of his mouth, because over the noise outside – which he belatedly realises includes running water and drunken conversation – he can hear the wet, filthy sound of Merlin fingering him, working him until he feels scorching heat spreading out from his centre. It makes him dizzy and anxious-urgent, screwing his hips back against Merlin's hand and begging for more with every hitching little noise Merlin forces out of him.
Merlin huffs against the side of Arthur's throat in between kisses, the hand he has on Arthur's stomach suddenly curling, short nails dragging over his skin in four blazing paths. The little lick of pain has Arthur right on the edge as he cranes his neck to catch Merlin's mouth in a kiss that's more a sloppy tangling of tongues and an exchange of harsh breaths than anything else.
"You wanna fuck?" Merlin offers.
And well, yes, but – "No, god, don't stop." His voice is ragged around the words and the shudder when he breathes out is pure relief because Merlin emphatically does not stop.
"Come on, then," he says, his hand slipping around from Arthur's stomach to his hip, holding him steady. "Come for me, baby, jerk yourself off, I want to feel you come – "
Arthur does as he's told, fingers hot and clumsy around his own dick, the pleasure of it singing with the feel of Merlin's fingers – three now, or it could be four, Arthur is too gone to care – fucking him quickly now, making his legs shake. Arthur grunts and slams a hand against the wall when he comes. It's fast and brutal, tearing out of him and almost bringing tears to his eyes it's so good.
He's on his knees before he's even got his breath back. He yanks at Merlin's fly, dimly registering the muttered fuck fuck fuck from above him as he draws Merlin's dick out of his pants. Merlin's hot and hard and so fucking ready and Arthur wants him, wants him so deep he can't feel anything but Merlin. Arthur's still gasping as he swallows Merlin down, caught on the cusp between too much and not enough. Merlin's fingers curl into his shoulders and he rolls his hips shallowly a few times, until Arthur tips his head and takes it, staring up at Merlin and willing him to just let go.
Merlin's fingers tighten on his shoulders and he fucks into Arthur's mouth with a barely-stifled groan.
"Ah – Arthur – "
One hand moves to Arthur's hair, gripping tight and Jesus, yes. Arthur grabs at the back of Merlin's thighs, squeezing all the way up to his arse and feeling him move, feeling Merlin's slim hips riding out his pleasure, using Arthur's mouth. By the time Arthur hears the throaty, trembling little noise that means Merlin's going to come the hand in his hair has already loosened. It allows him to draw back, keeping the head of Merlin's cock in his mouth as it throbs. He swallows some of Merlin's come down greedily, lets some drool back down his shaft and chases after it, loving Merlin's shocked little noise.
When Arthur finally pulls back Merlin catches him by the jaw, fingers gentle, thumb rubbing over his swollen lower lip, spreading wetness. He's got this light in his eyes that seems to be reserved only for Arthur and always sets off this twist in Arthur's throat. God, this fucking man, he thinks, disjointed and breathless even inside his own head.
"Jesus, Arthur," Merlin says, his smile broad and affectionate.
Arthur rubs his cheek against the denim over Merlin's thigh and Merlin takes a staggering half step back, crashing into the opposite wall, his hand in Arthur's hair keeping him close. Arthur closes his eyes and just breathes, running his tongue over his lips and letting Merlin's shaky huff of laughter wash over him.
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Summary: PWP. Arthur and Merlin and a nightclub toilet. Because why not. Drunk (and other unspecified whatever) sex, established relationship.
Notes: (Super) belated birthday present for
tourdefierce (hence all the fingers) ♥ Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.
Word Count: ~1900
The club is large, dark, dirty bass shaking Arthur's insides. It's easy to lose the others in the crowd, pulling Merlin along with him. They're sweating within moments and Arthur just loves the unfocused intensity to Merlin's stare when he's high. Arthur pulls him in to dance, locking their hips together. Merlin's breath shudders but his hands find a grip on Arthur's hip and the back of his neck.
Arthur kisses him, wet and hungry and with the echo of mine, mine, mine rolling through his head. Merlin moans into his mouth, all vibration, the sound of it lost in the sweltering air. Arthur digs his fingers in harder and scrabbles to get them under Merlin's tight t-shirt, fingers momentarily obsessed with the crisp curls of hair pointing the way down into Merlin's low-slung jeans. He scratches over Merlin's quivering belly and around to the small of his back, and there's just no way what they're doing could be called dancing now.
Merlin's pretty much riding Arthur's thigh, muffling his pleasure into Arthur's mouth. He might have a fraction on Arthur in height when he's not slouching to get a better angle to rub his dick over Arthur's thigh, but he feels so small and slight like this, Arthur's hands so tight around his waist that his fingers are practically touching, making it easy to direct him. Arthur loves how easy it would be to bend Merlin in half, even if in reality it's Arthur getting folded in on himself more often than not, because Arthur has this thing about getting fucked where it turns his brain inside out, and Merlin has this – smug, fucking amazing thing – about giving Arthur more than he ever knew to ask for.
Someone tries to cut in – or join in, Arthur's not sure – but he sends them off with a glare anyway, kisses turning hotter and hungrier until Merlin's running a soothing hand over his chest, pulling him through the masses of people, heading for the outside edge of the room. They fumble their way to the toilets, kissing and groping haphazardly, painfully obvious but Arthur pointedly could not care less. What does it matter who knows that he cannot get enough of this passionate, gorgeous, infuriating man? They trip over each other's feet on their way in and Merlin laughs against Arthur's mouth as they right themselves.
"Easy, tiger," Merlin murmurs.
Arthur's not sure whether there's even anyone else in here, because he is not taking his eyes off Merlin, not for anything, and Merlin has hold of both of his hands, and is backing into a stall. Arthur follows, crowding him in to get enough room to kick the door shut behind them. Merlin's on him in seconds and Arthur lets himself fall back against the door, tasting smoke and whisky and something bitter on Merlin's tongue. It's the flavour of intoxication and sex, and Arthur doesn't know how he'll ever get enough. He curls his fingers around Merlin's jaw, tongue-fucks his mouth until they're both gasping.
With his fingers still tight, Arthur manages to say, "God, I want you so fucking much."
Merlin wriggles a hand in between them and gropes at the hard length distorting Arthur's jeans. "Come on, birthday boy," he says. "Tell me what you want, and it's yours."
Arthur drops his head, bites Merlin's shoulder through his t-shirt. In the blue-tinged light he can see the marks of his teeth clearly and it makes him even hotter, wanting to put the same marks in red all over Merlin's body. He rears away from the door and turns them around to push Merlin up against the wall instead, pressed so close that they both groan at the sharp bite of Merlin's hipbones.
"Come on," Merlin says, taunting and sparking with lust now too. "What's the matter?" He sucks a path along Arthur's jaw, pausing to nip at the top of his throat. "Cat got your tongue?"
"Finger me," Arthur says, so fast that there's not even a beat between their voices.
"Jesus, Arthur. Jesus – " Merlin doesn't finish that thought, his long fingers hooking in Arthur's collar, pulling it askew, another lewd kiss before Arthur's pushing against him, determined and shaky.
"We can – I've got lube – " Arthur says.
Merlin curls his fingers into the hair at Arthur's nape, pulling firmly. He sounds breathless when he says against Arthur's mouth, "Course you do. My boy scout."
Arthur kisses him again, once, twice, breathless and says, "Don't make me wait."
"No, okay," Merlin says. "Shit. Turn around."
Arthur does, bracing his hands on the wall, feeling Merlin's hands shake just a little as they rifle through his pockets and then shove his jeans halfway down his thighs. He can feel the rough slide of Merlin's denims against the backs of his leg when Merlin squeezes close, face hot against the side of Arthur's throat. Arthur puts his face against his hands and presses back against Merlin, their bodies searing with heat everywhere they touch.
Normally if Arthur wants it just this side of rough he has to spell it out ('hold me down and fuck me, goddamnit!'). Who knows, maybe it's a birthday thing, but Merlin is bloody relentless, his movements just the right shade of cruel as he kicks at Arthur's instep, widening his stance. Arthur hears the click of the little tube he's been carrying around with him all night and tilts his hips back, begging for it without having to resort to words. Merlin scatters kisses over Arthur's nape, while his slick fingers trace through Arthur's cleft, an unbearable tease.
"Come on," Arthur says, and he's man enough to admit to himself that there's a bit of a whine to his tone. Merlin obviously likes it, kisses turning to bites as he works one long finger inside Arthur. One is nothing like enough and it seems like they both know it because Merlin's quick to add another, making Arthur feel the stretch of it. He bites at Arthur's shoulder through his shirt and brings his free hand around to slide under Arthur's shirt, pressing flat against his stomach.
"Good?" he asks and Arthur nods rapidly. He feels Merlin's fingers curl inside him, push deeper, twist and –
"Fuck – " Arthur says breathlessly. He can feel the bass from outside warring with his heartbeat all through his body, heart and cock and arse all beating out a rhythm of need as Merlin finger-fucks his hole, apparently with every intention of making Arthur lose his fucking mind.
"That's it, that's it," Merlin murmurs as Arthur's fingers claw at the wall and he presses his hips back again and again. "Fuck, the way you look," Merlin breathes. "So goddamn hot."
Arthur opens his mouth to reply but Merlin bites his earlobe just as he does, and all that comes out is a cracked little cry.
"Yeah – " Merlin sounds dazed, grinding his denim-clad crotch against Arthur's hip and gasping against the side of his throat. "Shit, anyone that heard this – "
They'd know exactly what the two of them are up to, even if Arthur wasn't rapidly losing control of his mouth, because over the noise outside – which he belatedly realises includes running water and drunken conversation – he can hear the wet, filthy sound of Merlin fingering him, working him until he feels scorching heat spreading out from his centre. It makes him dizzy and anxious-urgent, screwing his hips back against Merlin's hand and begging for more with every hitching little noise Merlin forces out of him.
Merlin huffs against the side of Arthur's throat in between kisses, the hand he has on Arthur's stomach suddenly curling, short nails dragging over his skin in four blazing paths. The little lick of pain has Arthur right on the edge as he cranes his neck to catch Merlin's mouth in a kiss that's more a sloppy tangling of tongues and an exchange of harsh breaths than anything else.
"You wanna fuck?" Merlin offers.
And well, yes, but – "No, god, don't stop." His voice is ragged around the words and the shudder when he breathes out is pure relief because Merlin emphatically does not stop.
"Come on, then," he says, his hand slipping around from Arthur's stomach to his hip, holding him steady. "Come for me, baby, jerk yourself off, I want to feel you come – "
Arthur does as he's told, fingers hot and clumsy around his own dick, the pleasure of it singing with the feel of Merlin's fingers – three now, or it could be four, Arthur is too gone to care – fucking him quickly now, making his legs shake. Arthur grunts and slams a hand against the wall when he comes. It's fast and brutal, tearing out of him and almost bringing tears to his eyes it's so good.
He's on his knees before he's even got his breath back. He yanks at Merlin's fly, dimly registering the muttered fuck fuck fuck from above him as he draws Merlin's dick out of his pants. Merlin's hot and hard and so fucking ready and Arthur wants him, wants him so deep he can't feel anything but Merlin. Arthur's still gasping as he swallows Merlin down, caught on the cusp between too much and not enough. Merlin's fingers curl into his shoulders and he rolls his hips shallowly a few times, until Arthur tips his head and takes it, staring up at Merlin and willing him to just let go.
Merlin's fingers tighten on his shoulders and he fucks into Arthur's mouth with a barely-stifled groan.
"Ah – Arthur – "
One hand moves to Arthur's hair, gripping tight and Jesus, yes. Arthur grabs at the back of Merlin's thighs, squeezing all the way up to his arse and feeling him move, feeling Merlin's slim hips riding out his pleasure, using Arthur's mouth. By the time Arthur hears the throaty, trembling little noise that means Merlin's going to come the hand in his hair has already loosened. It allows him to draw back, keeping the head of Merlin's cock in his mouth as it throbs. He swallows some of Merlin's come down greedily, lets some drool back down his shaft and chases after it, loving Merlin's shocked little noise.
When Arthur finally pulls back Merlin catches him by the jaw, fingers gentle, thumb rubbing over his swollen lower lip, spreading wetness. He's got this light in his eyes that seems to be reserved only for Arthur and always sets off this twist in Arthur's throat. God, this fucking man, he thinks, disjointed and breathless even inside his own head.
"Jesus, Arthur," Merlin says, his smile broad and affectionate.
Arthur rubs his cheek against the denim over Merlin's thigh and Merlin takes a staggering half step back, crashing into the opposite wall, his hand in Arthur's hair keeping him close. Arthur closes his eyes and just breathes, running his tongue over his lips and letting Merlin's shaky huff of laughter wash over him.
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