Summary: Merlin had had such a bad day. Good job Arthur was there for make it better.
Warnings: role play, dom/sub
Word Count: 911
Prompt: #40 / Leather
Author's Note: I've never written one like this with the whole roleplaying idea before, so who knows what it is like.
“Arthur?” Merlin wasn’t sure when the last time he had had a day as bad as this. His meeting with his publisher had completely backfired, and now he was under even more pressure to get to the end of the book before they started hounding him. He had scraped the car, ruined his best shirt and lost his phone. Needless to say, Merlin was not in the best of moods.
Stomping through to the kitchen, he froze. The room was lit by candlelight, the smell of one of his favourites wafting over from the hob. The table was set, his favourite wine already poured and waiting for him. His bad mood already disappearing, he lifted the glass and took a sip, a smile curling over his face. It was then that he noticed the table was only set for one.
“Master?” Arthur’s voice was low and seductive, immediately sending shivers up Merlin’s spine as hands brushed over his shoulders, helping him out of his jacket. This was still something new to them, something they had discovered by accident after realising Merlin needed to take control and stop letting things happen by chance, and Arthur needed to stop controlling everything. So they switched positions, and neither had ever come as hard as they had that first night. Merlin turned, and his breath caught in his throat.
Arthur was wearing nothing but a black collar and some tightly fitted leather pants. Judging by the bulge at his crotch, he was enjoying this as much as Merlin was.
“Your dinner is waiting, My Lord.” Arthur’s hand swept over Merlin’s chest and he craned his head around in order to give his husband a gentle kiss. “Shall I serve?”
Merlin jerkily nodded, knowing that his face was flushing even as he ran a finger over Arthur’s collar. He allowed himself to be seated at the table, cradling his wine as he watched Arthur bustling about in the kitchen.
“Are they the leather ones, my pet?”
“Yes, Master.” Merlin smirked appreciatively at the way the pants hugged Arthur’s arse, making his legs look even more tanned than usual against the darkness of the material. Arthur brought his dinner over, but rather than sitting down with him, he took up position by Merlin’s feet. His head rested gently on Merlin’s thigh, and realising that he could eat this one handed, Merlin let his free hand play with Arthur’s hair.
It was when he was almost done that he felt a change in Arthur’s breathing. Hands were creeping up his legs, and whilst he tried not to react, Merlin hissed as his flies were undone.
“Have you been a good boy, pet?”
“Yes, Master,” Arthur’s voice was husky now and he was shifting position even as he managed to tease Merlin’s jeans away from his crotch.
“Do you deserve your dinner now?”
“Please, Master…” Merlin couldn’t stop the smirk from flickering over his face at the desperation in Arthur’s voice. It might have all just been pretend, something private for the two of them, but Merlin couldn’t help but get a kick out of the fact he was the only one to ever see Arthur give up control, and willingly as well.
“Very well.” Merlin tried to sound like he didn’t care, but it was hard as Arthur’s deft hands made quick work of freeing him and going down on him hard.
“W..without hands.” How he managed to form a sentence, Merlin had no idea, but he grinned as Arthur’s hands snapped behind his back as his head bobbed up and down. Merlin had been so tense, and this had been just the perfect thing to come home to that he lasted no more than a few moments before arching off his seat, hitting the back of Arthur’s throat as he came with a cry of pleasure.
Arthur pulled off, panting with his eyes darkened by lust, almost keening as Merlin bent down and let his hand drift over Arthur’s own crotch.
“Need a hand?” The game was over, Merlin was too much in a world of bliss to be able to keep the pretence up. Arthur nodded, still panting as he climbed out from under the table. Merlin pushed him down into a chair and stripped the leather off him, teasing Arthur by trailing it suggestively over his chest for a moment before his hand finally closed around his husband’s throbbing member. Arthur immediately groaned, bucking into Merlin’s touch, but before he could do anything else, the door bell rang.
Both men froze, Arthur teasing his bottom lip as he tried to hold back a moan. Merlin experimentally moved his hand, but then the bell rang again.
“Arthur? I know you are in there. Open up, it’s your father. Arthur Pendragon, open this door.” The sound of a fist hammering on the door softly made Merlin pull back. Arthur, however, shook his head, keeping Merlin’s hand where it was.
“Won’t be a moment, Dad!” He yelled, moving Merlin’s fist up and down.
“Hurry, please.” He whispered, and Merlin obliged. Arthur was already going to have to dive for clothes, he couldn’t let his father see him in a collar and a pair of leather briefs. But Merlin knew that there was no way his husband could get through talking to his father with a raging hard on as well.
And as always, Merlin was more than happy to help take care of his love.