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Merlin walked two steps behind Arthur; as close to him as it was proper, yet close enough to still touch.
Arthur's steps resounded in the corridors,very different from Merlin’s own steps. The prince’s sounded sure and confident, stomping onwards, like daring anyone who crossed him to interfere or stop his way.
The first time Merlin saw Arthur walking like this, coming from the Tournament field for a brief recess to his chambers, he thought Arthur had a stick up his arse so big, nobody was ever going to be able to take it out.
After two years working for the Crown Prince (seeing him training, fighting, trying to make his father proud of him, never to succeed), Merlin knew better.
As soon as Merlin closed the door of the chambers behind them, Arthur all but collapsed in his arms.
“Arthur,” Merlin breathed out, worriedly, trying to set him upright.
Arthur only grunted.
“Where does it hurt?” Merlin questioned. With a wave of his hand, Arthur’s armour tore itself from the uncooperative body and it readied alone on top of the table.
Arthur opened his eyes only a little, and Merlin saw them bright with pain.
“Bre-breathing,” he managed to say.
Merlin cursed, helping Arthur to the bed.
Arthur put most of his weight on Merlin’s body, which was testament of how much effort had cost him to maintain the façade of all-powerful prince all the way here. It only made Merlin resent Uther’s way to raise Arthur, again, for a fleeting moment.
Another pulse of his magic and a muttered word dissolved most of Arthur’s clothing. He was naked but for his smalls when he laid on the bed. A small complaint tried to escape the prince’s tightly clenched teeth.
Merlin was angry at Arthur for still trying to show pride when it was only him in the chamber, but he let it go, angrier at the collection of bruises all over his body. They were everywhere . There was a huge one that went from the left shoulder to his chest.
“Sir Tarquin hit you hard,” Merlin murmured, noticing Arthur’s breathing short and shallow. With efficient, surely cold fingers he touched Arthur’s chest until a small whine came.
“Can you take a deep breath in?” Merlin asked.
Arthur shook his head, denying, his clear-blue eyes looking at him while trying to hide fear.
“There’s a broken rib,” Merlin announced, feeling sorry for Arthur. “You can’t fight anymore.”
“No,” Arthur groaned, trying to move. “I need out.”
“Have you looked at yourself?” Merlin asked, desperately. He prevented the stubborn prat from moving with strong hands.
“Merlin.”
“You need to stop. Please .”
Merlin caressed Arthur’s sweaty hair tenderly, taking the errand strands away from his forehead, and kissing him right there. He wasn’t beyond playing dirty right now.
Arthur moved one hand (and it was obvious that it took a lot of effort to lift it), and captured Merlin’s cheek in it. It was warm. Merlin put his own covering it, in a comforting gesture.
“Please, Merlin.” Arthur breathed with difficulty. “I need… Father won’t -forgive me.”
Merlin shook his head. He wanted to say so many things at once. But he only sighed, surrendering, because there was nothing at all he wouldn’t do for Arthur, to make him feel better, and the dollophead knew it.
“I’d have to use magic on you, to heal you,” he wanted to sound threatening, but Arthur’s smile showed he hadn’t succeeded.
“I know. Please do.”
“Lie down,” Merlin instructed, taking the pillows away.
He hated performing magic on Arthur. It felt like a betrayal after the many promises they made to each other, mixed with anger and tears, when Arthur discovered he was a warlock.
He hated healing magic even more. He wasn’t so good at it. But he knew his magic loved Arthur as much as he loved the prat himself, so he put his hand gently now where he had felt the bone cracked, and murmured a spell.
Arthur gasped, never taking his eyes from Merlin’s while the magic worked on him. After a moment Arthur’s breathing was back to normal, even though the rib still felt tender to the touch.
And, as usual, Arthur was hard inside his breeches. It had been a very pleasant side-effect to discovering Merlin was magic. One that had pushed them finally together the first time they had gone on a quest and Merlin had freely performed magic for his prince.
“I can’t believe you,” Merlin said with an exasperated sigh.
Arthur only grinned, mischievously. “ That , doesn’t hurt.”
“Lay across the bed, so that I can rub you with arnica.”
Merlin helped Arthur to move, happy to see him moving with less difficulty. From this position, with Arthur’s head close to him, it was easier to apply the arnica in his neck and shoulders, and then spread it all along his back.
They didn’t have a lot of time, so he ordered Arthur to turn around before the prince had time to plead for Merlin’s fingers to get into his arse.
When Merlin started to spread the oil all along the skin of Arthur’s chest, in calming motions, Arthur sighed, content, and relaxed under him. (Well, most of him relaxed; his cock was very much hard).
“I really don’t understand you knights. You must be sick to bask on pain like this.” Merlin kept on caressing Arthur's skin, making it shine.
Arthur hummed a laugh. “You know I like a little bit of pain mixed with my pleasure.”
The position Merlin had put him in made him so close to Merlin’s groin, Arthur didn’t need to move a lot to caress Merlin’s cock with his nose.
“Arthur.” He wanted to sound reproaching, but his body betrayed him, his hips pushing towards Arthur’s face.
“A little help here, Mer lin.” The prince had moved his hands to unlace Merlin’s breeches, but magic proved to be quicker. His trousers opened and Merlin took out his already half-hard cock.
He fisted himself until he was nice and hard, breathing unsteadily and watching Arthur watching him .
Arthur moved on the bed so that his head hung from the border enough to comfortably allow Merlin to push onto his waiting open mouth.
“Oh, Arthur.”
Merlin pushed his cock slowly but surely into that amazing wet heat. The posture was so amazing, that only opening his legs a little he could push deeper and feel Arthur’s throat constricting around his length.
Arthur made a hungry noise, and then swallowed around him, moving his hands to Merlin’s arse, forcing a steady rhythm.
Merlin stretched himself enough so that he could reach Arthur’s hips and lower his smalls below his hard arousal.
His hands were still wet with arnica so there was only one thing he could do. He leaned in and took Arthur’s cock in his own mouth. The sound Arthur made around Merlin’s prick was delicious, and he started leaking on Merlin’s tongue.
Merlin didn’t want to put a lot of pressure on Arthur’s newly recovered rib, so after a few licks on Arthur’s sensitive head, he forced himself out of the deliciously sucking stimulation.
“Get well on the bed,” Merlin said.
Arthur groaned in protest. “I want you to come down my throat, like this.”
“And I don’t want to hurt you, clotpole.”
“Give me your cock and I’ll stop complaining.” But Arthur was already laying correctly on the mattress.
Merlin got on the bed as well, head to toes to Arthur, and the prince didn’t lose a single moment to start sucking on him again. “Oh, Gods, Arthur!”
With a hand on his own cock, Arthur guided it to Merlin’s mouth.
“Suck me,” Arthur said, a hint of desperation in his voice. And Merlin would have come right then and there at the view of Arthur’s pleading eyes, his own cock resting on those plumb red lips.
“Your wish is my command, my Lord.”
Merlin took him as deep as he could in one go, and Arthur wailed around him (a sound he would later deny having done, of course).
It took but a few moments for Arthur to lose control and start thrusting his hips into Merlin’s face. Merlin fucked Arthur’s mouth as well, and they came nearly at the same time, sucking each other until the last drop.
Merlin moved quickly to be eye-level with Arthur. Gentle fingers touched the damaged rib and checked Arthur’s breathing was only fast due to the sex.
“I liked the initial pose. We have to try it again, when we have more time and I don’t hurt all over.” Arthur smiled, and kissed Merlin softly.
“You’re crazy.”
“But you love me.”
Merlin kissed him again, just because he loved Arthur too, with all his heart. Even though he knew what Arthur would say next.
“Get me ready for the Tournament, would you?”
THE END.