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Fic: Arthur overwhelms Merlin with how sappy he is the morning after
Title: Arthur overwhelms Merlin with how sappy he is the morning after
Author: Kumquatix
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 900
Summary: Merlin enjoys waking up next to Arthur
The first morning, Merlin wakes at the usual time. He rolls onto his side, and stares at Arthur. His face looks sweeter when he sleeps, soft and beautiful. Merlin pushes the covers off him. That is without a doubt the most well-formed male torso Merlin has had the pleasure of seeing.
Arthur opens his blue, blue eyes and looks back at Merlin.
"Good morning, Arthur," Merlin says with a smile, and leans in for a kiss.
Arthur smirks at him.
"It's not a good morning until I get served my breakfast. Hop to it, Merlin!" and he smacks him hard on the arse.
~*~
The second morning, Merlin wakes early as he always does. At once he realizes where he is, and he lies very still. Arthur is still asleep next to him, and half a smile peeks out where his face isn't mashed deep into the pillow.
Merlin sits up carefully and slowly and just looks at him. Arthur's long, athletic body is stretched out as if trying to take up as much space as possible, and the light summer covers fall softly around him, showing off his shape. Arthur starts thrusting against the mattress, and his left eye which Merlin can see is moving behind its lid.
Without letting in any cool air, Merlin scoots back down under the blanket and gropes Arthur's firm, clenching buttocks. Delicious.
"Bleargh," Arthur grumps. "Ugh. Go fetch a ewer of hot water, Merlin," and he shoves Merlin away.
~*~
The third morning, Merlin dreams he is late for work, and he wakes up as he is frantically searching for Arthur's chambers which mysteriously keep moving away.
Arthur is curled up like a baby mouse, with only the tips of his fine golden hair peeking out.
Merlin is feeling out of sorts, and can't be dealing with Arthur's prattish ways today, so he quietly slips out of bed and starts gathering up his clothes.
Arthur sits up with a scowl when Merlin opens the door.
"Merlin, make sure my boots are well-oiled today," he says. "Yesterday my feet got wet just from walking through dewy grass. I know you're barely competent, but I shouldn't have to remind you of these very basic things."
Arthur deserves an overly deferential "Yes, sire" and half a bow for that.
~*~
The fourth morning, Merlin wakes up at the same time as every day. Arthur has somehow without waking him managed to climb on top of him and grip his arm so tightly that Merlin's right hand has gone numb.
His heavy, warm limbs feel wonderful against Merlin's. When Merlin concentrates, he notices Arthur's soft prick resting against the inside of his thigh, and he moves his leg around, sliding it up against Arthur's and letting the little hairs tickle him.
Arthur shifts, and his hot breath now goes directly into Merlin's ear. Suddenly Merlin is more concerned with his own hardening prick than trying to rub his thigh against Arthur's, and he holds onto Arthur's back with the hand he can control and rolls them both onto their sides so he can move move against him.
For a few hot and slippery seconds it works, they're both holding onto each other and thrusting their pelvises, and Merlin goes all the way hard and tries to push his foreskin back by grinding against Arthur's fuzzy stomach. Then Arthur lets go of him and sits up.
Merlin clenches and unclenches his sleeping hand, which feels like it's on fire, and it distracts him enough from his sex haze that he can pay attention to what Arthur wants instead of just thinking about pushing him down and finishing what they started.
Arthur doesn't speak for a while, just sits there taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly. He looks like he does after a match, when he's trying to calm the fight from his body and regain his focus.
"Fetch me my breakfast, Merlin," is all he says. He doesn't open his eyes.
~*~
The fifth morning, Merlin wakes at his habitual hour, even though the angle of the morning sun is different in Arthur's quarters.
Arthur is lying on his back with his arms flung over his head and the blanket pushed down to his belly button, and Merlin very badly wants to lean over and bite him. When he moves to do just that, he notices Arthur's breath change ever so slightly.
"Good morning, Sugarlips," he teases him, and it comes out a lot happier than sarcastic, because who could snarl with those pink little nipples pointing straight at him?
Arthur goes completely still, not even his chest moving, and Merlin watches in fascination as his cheeks turn rosy, then red, and the red spreads like a wave up to his hairline and down his neck and even the top of his chest.
Then he opens his eyes and curls his body into Merlin's.
"Good morning, Treasure," Arthur answers.
Merlin is no fool; he kisses that pout which Arthur is ever so subtly exaggerating and if his smile is perhaps a bit too broad, well, he is a happy to wake up next to his sweet Sugarlips. His Honey. His Sunshine.
Author: Kumquatix
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 900
Summary: Merlin enjoys waking up next to Arthur
The first morning, Merlin wakes at the usual time. He rolls onto his side, and stares at Arthur. His face looks sweeter when he sleeps, soft and beautiful. Merlin pushes the covers off him. That is without a doubt the most well-formed male torso Merlin has had the pleasure of seeing.
Arthur opens his blue, blue eyes and looks back at Merlin.
"Good morning, Arthur," Merlin says with a smile, and leans in for a kiss.
Arthur smirks at him.
"It's not a good morning until I get served my breakfast. Hop to it, Merlin!" and he smacks him hard on the arse.
The second morning, Merlin wakes early as he always does. At once he realizes where he is, and he lies very still. Arthur is still asleep next to him, and half a smile peeks out where his face isn't mashed deep into the pillow.
Merlin sits up carefully and slowly and just looks at him. Arthur's long, athletic body is stretched out as if trying to take up as much space as possible, and the light summer covers fall softly around him, showing off his shape. Arthur starts thrusting against the mattress, and his left eye which Merlin can see is moving behind its lid.
Without letting in any cool air, Merlin scoots back down under the blanket and gropes Arthur's firm, clenching buttocks. Delicious.
"Bleargh," Arthur grumps. "Ugh. Go fetch a ewer of hot water, Merlin," and he shoves Merlin away.
The third morning, Merlin dreams he is late for work, and he wakes up as he is frantically searching for Arthur's chambers which mysteriously keep moving away.
Arthur is curled up like a baby mouse, with only the tips of his fine golden hair peeking out.
Merlin is feeling out of sorts, and can't be dealing with Arthur's prattish ways today, so he quietly slips out of bed and starts gathering up his clothes.
Arthur sits up with a scowl when Merlin opens the door.
"Merlin, make sure my boots are well-oiled today," he says. "Yesterday my feet got wet just from walking through dewy grass. I know you're barely competent, but I shouldn't have to remind you of these very basic things."
Arthur deserves an overly deferential "Yes, sire" and half a bow for that.
The fourth morning, Merlin wakes up at the same time as every day. Arthur has somehow without waking him managed to climb on top of him and grip his arm so tightly that Merlin's right hand has gone numb.
His heavy, warm limbs feel wonderful against Merlin's. When Merlin concentrates, he notices Arthur's soft prick resting against the inside of his thigh, and he moves his leg around, sliding it up against Arthur's and letting the little hairs tickle him.
Arthur shifts, and his hot breath now goes directly into Merlin's ear. Suddenly Merlin is more concerned with his own hardening prick than trying to rub his thigh against Arthur's, and he holds onto Arthur's back with the hand he can control and rolls them both onto their sides so he can move move against him.
For a few hot and slippery seconds it works, they're both holding onto each other and thrusting their pelvises, and Merlin goes all the way hard and tries to push his foreskin back by grinding against Arthur's fuzzy stomach. Then Arthur lets go of him and sits up.
Merlin clenches and unclenches his sleeping hand, which feels like it's on fire, and it distracts him enough from his sex haze that he can pay attention to what Arthur wants instead of just thinking about pushing him down and finishing what they started.
Arthur doesn't speak for a while, just sits there taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly. He looks like he does after a match, when he's trying to calm the fight from his body and regain his focus.
"Fetch me my breakfast, Merlin," is all he says. He doesn't open his eyes.
The fifth morning, Merlin wakes at his habitual hour, even though the angle of the morning sun is different in Arthur's quarters.
Arthur is lying on his back with his arms flung over his head and the blanket pushed down to his belly button, and Merlin very badly wants to lean over and bite him. When he moves to do just that, he notices Arthur's breath change ever so slightly.
"Good morning, Sugarlips," he teases him, and it comes out a lot happier than sarcastic, because who could snarl with those pink little nipples pointing straight at him?
Arthur goes completely still, not even his chest moving, and Merlin watches in fascination as his cheeks turn rosy, then red, and the red spreads like a wave up to his hairline and down his neck and even the top of his chest.
Then he opens his eyes and curls his body into Merlin's.
"Good morning, Treasure," Arthur answers.
Merlin is no fool; he kisses that pout which Arthur is ever so subtly exaggerating and if his smile is perhaps a bit too broad, well, he is a happy to wake up next to his sweet Sugarlips. His Honey. His Sunshine.