Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Merlin's a teacher, Arthur's eighteen but still out of reach
Warnings: Age difference
Word Count: 817
Author's Notes: All I could think was History Boys!
“Silence!” Merlin shouts. He hates to get like this, hates to get angry at the class, but Arthur and his crowd are being disruptive pricks again. You’d think they didn’t want to get any A levels, but Merlin knows otherwise. Their essays are always exemplary and he doesn’t know how they do it, but whenever he peers over their shoulders, no matter how much hell they’ve been trying to raise, they have perfect notes.
The class falls quiet, but Arthur’s smirking up at him. It’s infuriating. It’s like he knows how difficult Merlin finds it to be around him, to cover his swoons when he walks into the classroom.
“I was trying to say that there will be a sheet on my office door to sign up for essay review sessions. Make sure you do.”
The bell rings, so Merlin sits at his desk to let the class leave. They won’t listen to him past this point anyway.
Arthur’s review session is the last of the day. He lets himself into the office, perches on a chair next to Merlin, and peers over his shoulder.
“Yes, Arthur, let yourself in. Sit down, I’ll just be a moment.” His voice is dry, and Arthur laughs, unrepentant. He shuffles in his seat.
“How did I do, sir? Was it interesting? Did it stand out?”
Merlin finishes what he’s writing and pulls out the essay.
“It was good, yes, but it could have been more individual.”
“How so?” Arthur asks, a little annoyed and getting closer. Merlin slides the essay over to show him.
“Well, here, you have an interesting point about the imagery but you don’t run with it. You’d have done well to have taken that perspective for more of the essay.”
Merlin turns to look at him, and that’s when Arthur pounces. He presses his lips to Merlin’s, tangling his fingers up in his hair.
And Merlin kisses back. Holds him there, gasps into his mouth, until Arthur licks in and he pulls back.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Come on, sir,” Arthur says, hand travelling up Merlin’s thigh, “You want this too.”
“No, of course I don’t! You’re above the age of consent but it’s still illegal to sleep with- to do anything with a student.”
“So you’ve thought about sleeping with me,” Arthur says with a smirk. “It’s alright, Mr Emrys, I’ve thought about it too.”
There’s a pause, a beat, then Arthur launches forward again, kissing Merlin hard, desperate. Merlin doesn’t fight him off fast enough, and he climbs into his lap.
“Sir,” he murmurs, “Sir.”
Merlin pushes him off again at that.
“Don’t think I haven’t seen you,” Arthur tells him, eyes blown with lust, “Watching me from the window when I’m at rugby practice. Don’t think I haven’t seen.”
He strokes Merlin’s hair back and quietens, an oddly fond gesture.
“No one’s here anymore. It’s the end of school. No one will know.”
He kisses Merlin again, sucks down on his lip. Rocks their hips together. And this time Merlin doesn’t push him off. He holds him instead, fingers under his shirt, seeking out the muscle he knows is there.
“You’re beautiful. So smart, so-”
He rocks his hips a little harder and gasps, pulls his shirt off and attaches his lips to Merlin’s again. Undoes the buttons on Merlin’s shirt. Merlin’s hands roam over his chest, greedy, biting on his lips to slow them, to show him how to kiss deep and wet and hot. Arthur lets him, succumbs to it, gets their trousers undone and shuffled down and their cocks out. Merlin shuts off the part of his brain that thinks of how this must be Arthur’s first, how young he is, how wrong this is, and he sets the rhythm. One hand over both of them, the other gripping onto Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur kisses his lips, then his neck, then he bites, stifling his cry when he comes.
Merlin strokes the back of his neck, letting Arthur’s forehead rest on his shoulder. He hasn’t come, but he’d be content to let Arthur rest there and then go when he’s finished, but before he can say anything Arthur slides from his lap and kneels between his knees. Kisses the inside of his thigh, then swallows him down. Deeper than Merlin would have expected for a boy’s first time.
It doesn’t take him long to come. Arthur, young and gorgeous, looking up at Merlin for his approval. Arthur swallows, and then he grins. Pulls Merlin’s trousers up, then his own, then leans in to kiss him. He’s far too energetic for post-orgasm, near bouncing, pulling on his shirt and picking up his bag and leaving.
“I’m glad we had this chat, sir,” he says, just before the door shuts.
Merlin sits there, leaning back on his chair in the silence, and he wonders. And he wants.