Wake-Up Call - (Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, he likes it rough)
Merlin walked in to Arthur’s rooms to find him still sleeping - at least, he was still burrowed under layers of blankets. All Merlin could see of him was his golden hair, tousled and barely visible under the crimson coverlet.
“Arthur!” he sighed. He crossed to the bed, setting down the fresh pitcher he’d brought up, and laid a hand on where he assumed Arthur’s shoulder would be.
Merlin’s world suddenly spun uncontrollably as he was yanked off his feet and into a swirl of red velvet. “H’lo, Merlin.” Arthur mumbled into his shoulder, eyes far too alert for him to have really been sleeping.
Merlin attempted a reproving scowl, but there was a bit too much amusement in it. Arthur grinned at him, then pulled Merlin’s rough shirt away from his shoulder and bit it sharply.
Merlin gasped, tilting his head away and squirming beneath his lover until his legs were spread and Arthur’s hips were cradled between them.
“You’re overdressed.” Arthur muttered into Merlin’s now slightly raw shoulder. “Should fix that.” He pushed up on one hand and tugged at Merlin’s shirt as he leant up obediently, allowing it to be pulled off.
With Merlin’s pale chest on display, Arthur was distracted from his self-appointed mission. Instead of moving on to divest Merlin of his trousers, he stopped to trace his tongue over his lover’s slim muscles.
Merlin tugged at his hair in annoyance, shifting his hips up in an attempt to release the tension that had grown quite uncomfortable. It was an effective strategy, as it ground his hardness into Arthur’s, only the fabric of his trousers between them. Arthur was effectively reminded of his previous actions, and stripped Merlin of his breeches quickly.
Arthur breathed teasingly over the revealed flesh and then traced his nose over the soft hollow of Merlin’s hip. Merlin shivered pleasurably, digging short nails into Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur moaned, biting the crest of Merlin’s hip in retaliation.
Merlin whimpered at the sensation, enjoying the thought that he’d have the mark of Arthur’s teeth in his skin for days. He pulled ineffectually at Arthur’s shoulders. “Come back here.” he demanded.
Arthur chuckled lowly, but prowled up over Merlin again, his predatory movements sending shivers through Merlin.
Arthur smirked, bending his head to nip at Merlin’s lower lip before delving into a demanding, possessive kiss. It was Arthur’s turn to shudder as Merlin’s legs wrapped around his waist, holding him pressed up against his lover.
“Feeling impatient?” he asked, nipping at Merlin’s slightly rough jaw.
Merlin growled quietly, digging his fingers roughly into Arthur’s back insistently. Arthur gasped, bucking his hips against Merlin’s - precisely the reaction that Merlin had been hoping for. He did it again, moaning happily at the repeated sensation.
Arthur grinned wildly, indulging Merlin’s obvious desires with pleasure - but only for a few minutes before he wanted something more. Merlin’s whine of protest as Arthur pulled away quickly morphed into a jumbled plea for more as he was prepared quickly.
Arthur didn’t bother with extensive stretching, knowing that in this mood, they would both appreciate something a little rougher. It was only moments - long though they seemed - before Arthur was sliding home.
Merlin nearly howled at the feeling, bruising Arthur’s shoulders in his enthusiasm as he clung to them, dragging Arthur down to him again to bite at his lip, barely pausing to soothe the sting with his tongue before he did it again. He almost drew blood a few times before Arthur snarled, taking control himself.
Merlin’s movements grew less coordinated as flashes of light appeared behind his eyes - Arthur was really quite good at this, he thought disjointedly.
Arthur’s head dropped to Merlin’s shoulder, where he panted raggedly as he sped his pace; both of them were too worked up to last.