Title: Pain in the Ass
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin,
Summary: Arthur knew Merlin was responsible for the lingering braying. A punishment was in order.
Word Count: 1000
Prompt: Goblin's Gold
Author's Notes: These prompts are fun!
“In there,” Arthur snarled. His grip on Merlin’s arm was biting as he all but flung the man into the stables. Merlin stumbled, but managed to regain his balance. Arthur checked no one was in earshot even as he slammed the door shut. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“What was?” Merlin said innocently. He knew precisely what Arthur was referring to though, he just had no intention of making it easy for the prince.
“Don’t act coy with me, Merlin. I know it was you. No one else is strong enough to overcome the goblin’s magic overnight. No one else would conveniently forget me.”
Merlin tried to hide his smirk, but the glower that Arthur shot him meant he wasn’t sure he succeeded. He shrugged and lifted an eyebrow.
“You’ve forbidden me from talking about my magic, Sire. I can’t say anything without disobeying you.”
“Now you decide to listen?” Arthur ran a hand through his hair in frustration even as the other one subconsciously rubbed at his throat. Merlin had removed the last of the braying, but Arthur still seemed cautious. Merlin could hardly blame him – he had made the prince stew for a few days before healing him. He figured it was only fair after what Arthur put him through daily.
“You,” Arthur continued, one finger pointing in Merlin’s face, “are impossible.”
“And you’re stuck with me,” Merlin said cheerfully. “So are you just going to lock me in the stables? I’m certain you gave me a list of chores this morning.”
He knew he was pushing it, but he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t often he got the upper hand over Arthur, and besides, he had been the one that had nearly been executed. He knew Arthur wasn’t half as angry as he would have been if Merlin had managed to get his head chopped off.
“Oh no.” Arthur’s voice deepened and Merlin shuddered at the effect the tone had him. Damn him, Arthur knew what it did to him. “I feel a punishment is in order. Strip.”
This was the one command that Merlin had no qualms about obeying. His hands let out a slight tremble as he removed his clothes. He didn’t know if it was arousal, anticipation, excitement or a combination of all three.
“On your knees,” Arthur ordered once Merlin was naked. Merlin complied, shivering at the hand Arthur stroked down his back. “Since you were so determined to leave me with the characteristics of an animal, your punishment should follow suit. Tell me, Merlin, have you ever seen horses mate?”
Merlin didn’t answer, but he trembled under Arthur’s touch. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the prince loosen his breeches. The fact the man was still wearing his chainmail only served Merlin’s arousal. There was something about being bare in front of Arthur when the prince was still prepared for battle. Nothing was hidden from his master like that.
“And since a donkey is close to a horse, that will be your punishment. I’m going to fuck you like a mare in heat.”
Merlin couldn’t stop the whine escaping the back of his throat. Arthur knelt behind him, one finger instantly setting to work. Merlin shut his eyes as Arthur froze.
“You’re loose,” Arthur muttered. “Anyone would think you were waiting for this.”
Merlin didn’t dare speak. He couldn’t admit that he had been, that he had been hoping for this very reaction. Arthur often seemed to forget that Merlin knew him just as well as Arthur knew the warlock – more so in fact. He knew possibly before Arthur did what his “punishment” would be.
“You’re a whore, Merlin.”
Arthur didn’t waste any more time, clearly knowing Merlin was prepared for this. He drove in, his legs bracketing Merlin’s as he went impossibly deep in one thrust. He took hold of Merlin’s shoulders and began to thrust, driving the warlock back to meet each snap of his hips. All in all, he mounted him just the way a stallion would mount a mare and Merlin panted in ecstasy.
Somehow, Arthur made it last although Merlin knew the prince was just as turned on as he was. Whenever Arthur got rough and dominant, they both saw stars. It happened surprisingly infrequently – Arthur tended to use the bedroom as a place to surrender control.
Arthur was collapsed over his back, the chainmail cold against his sweaty back as they moved in tandem. Merlin wondered if anyone looked in, whether they would even realise there were two people moving in the stall.
Eventually, though, Merlin’s breath stuttered and he shuddered, despite not having touched himself. It sent Arthur over the edge and Arthur managed to pull out before collapsing in a panting heap next to Merlin. Shakily turning over and slumping in the straw next to him, Merlin breathed heavily. He automatically moved until his head was resting on Arthur’s chest and instantly, Arthur’s fingers began threading through his hair.
“You’re impossible,” Arthur murmured once he got his breath back. Merlin ran his fingers across the cold metal.
“Did you really expect me to not have some fun with that? You were an ass, Arthur. A literal ass.”
“And now your ass is paying the price.” Arthur said sleepily and Merlin cracked a grin. Then he realised the complete absurdity of the situation and began to laugh. Of all the scrapes and dangers they had been in since he had arrived in Camelot, this had to be the most absurd. After a moment, Arthur joined in, shaking his head fondly. Merlin tilted his head up so that he could kiss him.
“We should move,” Arthur murmured.
“We should,” Merlin agreed. But he shifted so the straw stopped poking him in places where he didn’t want it and shut his eyes as his head returned to Arthur’s chest. The prince’s breathing was even and Merlin smiled as he also fell asleep.
Sometimes, he couldn’t help but think, animals seemed to have it so much easier than they did.