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He only realised he had forgotten his bathrobe as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to dry himself off, grimacing at the thought of having to step out of the steam-fogged bathroom into the cold. Damn the finicky old radiater for breaking down just when the maintenance guy was away.
Arthur took in a deep breath to brace himself and crossed the room as quickly as he could, but the wintry air chilled his damp skin instantly and effectively as though he had been doused in a bucket of snow. Which, he could attest from sorry experience (courtesy Morgana, when they were ten), was not a pleasant experience.
He hesitated at the bed, finding himself reluctant to switch off the light Merlin had left on. Merlin was bundled up in the covers, abandoned book at one side, sleeping peacefully as a hibernating bear, with only a small tuft of dark hair showing at the top. The goosebumps rising on his skin persuaded him, and Arthur gently tugged the side of the blanket free, careful not to wake the sleeping man curled up inside, lifting the edge and slipping in quickly to keep from letting too much of the precious warmth escape.
He sighed as his clammy skin came into contact with Merlin's smooth, warm skin, making Merlin shiver and mutter unintelligibly into his pillow in reaction. The familiar response reminded him how he hadn't seen Merlin in a week, making something clench in his chest and stomach, and he folded Merlin's slighter frame into his own, marvelling at how they fit.
Intellectually he knew they were of a size - almost the same height, and Merlin was hardly a frail little flower for all his lithe build. But Arthur was just that bit broader, visibly, and with Merlin's body tucked snugly against his, the illusory contrast was enough that he felt absurdly warmed, protective. Possessive.
Seeing Merlin like this, wrapped up in his embrace and dreaming, vulnerable and trusting in his arms... all his. Like he could do anything, and Merlin wouldn't be able to stop him. The dark thoughts shamed him. He shook them off, reaching behind to fumble off the light switch, pulled the comforter over their heads and tucked his cold nose into Merlin's warm neck, and Merlin made a small noise of protest that made him snort a laugh into Merlin's nape and rub his nose on Merlin again.
"You're back," Merlin murmured, and turned his head just enough to allow Arthur to press a kiss to his cheek. "Tried to wait up for you," he said indistinctly, and his lashes fluttered closed again. Arthur turned him and let his lips rest on the upturned corner of Merlin's mouth, waiting.
There was no reaction. Merlin's body remained lax in sleep, unresponsive. He let his hands trail down over the strong planes of Merlin's arms and chest, re-familiarising himself with the beloved body he'd been longing for all week, that had sustained him through the tedious meetings, the flights, the rushed meals.
Inevitably, the part of him that had been most deprived the past week filled greedily at the contact, pressing itself into the warm channel created by Merlin's firm, rounded arse and strong thighs. He thrust against Merlin once, involuntarily, but stopped himself when his wandering hand found Merlin's soft cock resting in its nest of curls.
A frisson of terror rushed through him, and he froze, almost looking about the darkened room guiltily, as though he thought he was being watched.
Ridiculous, he chided himself. In the first heady weeks, even months, of their relationship, they'd done practically everything they could think of, then looked up reference books and the internet, and tried almost everything they found, at least once. There was no part of Merlin he'd not had his hands and cock and tongue on or in, and vice versa. They'd slept together, been all over each other in all states; he practically knew Merlin's body as well as he knew his own.
Just the morning that he'd set out on this latest trip, he'd woken Merlin by grabbing his morning wood and sucking him down like a porn star, and Merlin had had no complaints, screaming his name as he woke and then contentedly parting his legs to let Arthur push urgently inside his spasming hole, still relaxed and slick from the lube and come left from the previous night's activities. He hadn't lasted long, but Merlin's dreamy smile as Arthur fingered the evidence of his spending inside him had more than made up for it. Arthur had spent quality time flashing back to that sleepy, fucked-out smile at inconvenient times and then squirming guiltily in his seat, unable to relieve himself.
The memory alone was enough to make his hips stutter against Merlin again, but he stilled himself with effort, heart racing. It was one thing to grab Merlin when he was awake and laughing in the shower, or when he was aroused and needy, or even when he was soft and exhausted after a vigorous bout of sex, but Arthur had never had him like this. Merlin was still soft in his palm, unaware, and so, so defenceless. He felt like a thief, furtive and guilty, in possession of something that wasn't his and too terrified to decide if he should hold on or let go.
Merlin made another soft noise, and shifted in his sleep, his arm stopping to rest atop Arthur's, and the light pressure felt like a caress, like he was holding Arthur's hand in place over his slack genitals, like... permission.
Arthur shook his head angrily at his pitiful attempt at self-justification, then as he tensed to pull away and remove himself from temptation, his cock slid against something wet. His breath caught.
He pulled away and wrapped his fist around his cock, thinking that he should just get himself off and sleep, but - there was pre-come, just not that much, really. Not enough to make Merlin that wet.
Fearfully, still expecting Merlin to wake and demand to know what he thought he was doing, he reached down with his other hand and felt... wetness. The unmistakeable texture of lubricant, and. A hard, familiar protrusion, that he couldn't imagine how he'd missed earlier.
Merlin had lubed himself up, kept himself open with a plug and fallen asleep waiting for Arthur. Slowly, breathless and daring, Arthur took hold of the plug and drew it out with a slick 'pop' that made his heart and cock jump. Merlin sighed and shifted again, legs parting invitingly.
Arthur dropped the plug over the side of the bed, jumping at the soft thud as it hit the floor. He slid his fingers in Merlin, marvelling at the hot, wet clutch of his body, tight and welcoming, greedily sucking at his fingers in spite of the plug. Merlin had prepared to welcome him home. Should he, would Merlin want - he pressed a trembling kiss to Merlin's smooth shoulder as he rubbed his fingers inside Merlin, yearning and afraid to go all the way and take him.
The need was turning into almost pain. Arthur sucked on Merlin's skin, rubbed harder as Merlin uttered a soft, drawn out moan. He reached around and cupped Merlin's soft cock, gently sliding the loose foreskin up and down, not trying to arouse Merlin, simply wanting and amazed, overwhelmed with affection.
Merlin let out a long exhale that stuttered into a soft laugh. "How long are you going to keep hanging there?"
He shook with the force of his restraint, and gently pressed his teeth into Merlin's shoulder in warning. "You, you're awake. But you're not..." He pumped Merlin's soft cock again, meaningfully.
"Want to sleep," Merlin murmured, and that was just his Merlin, exactly, the one who worked and worked until he fell over dead to the world and would not rouse again for love or money until he was good and ready. Arthur rubbed his fingers inside him, hopeful, and Merlin 'mmm'-ed contentedly.
"Go ahead," he sighed, and Arthur stilled. "Want you," he yawned, and relaxed again into sleep.
Hardly daring to believe it, Arthur let his cock slide between Merlin's buttocks again, test the slick entrance. His. He had permission. He... He was clutching Merlin to him like some sort of perverse, anatomically correct teddy bear, and the horrible wrongness of the image made him giggle helplessly and push in without thinking, his cockhead popping in past the tight ring of muscle and he sucked in a breath, suddenly blank.
His. All his. Acres and acres - he choked off the thought with determination and pressed home, gasping at the sensation of tight heat all around, gripping him in ownership, because of course he was Merlin's too, every bit of him down to his toes.
His, and his. Arthur took his time, leisurely rocking in and out of Merlin's pliant body, lord and obedient servant at the same time, hands curved possessively over Merlin's belly and soft genitals. His to hold, his to protect. His, his, his. He had Merlin's permission, Merlin's trust, Merlin's vulnerable, willing body to love as he liked.
He fucked Merlin, long and slow, savouring the slip-slide of skin on skin, the involuntary ripples of Merlin's inner walls as it flexed around his cock, reluctantly giving him up and then letting him in again, in and out, over, and over. Loved the soft, yielding press of Merlin's body clasped tightly against his, the boneless loll of his head giving Arthur access to his neck, allowing him to kiss, to bite, to suck as he gently took him, imprinting Merlin's slack body with the evidence of their connection until Arthur couldn't hold back any more and spent himself with a desperate groan, still clutching Merlin close, refusing to let himself slide out, as though not being in Merlin's welcoming heat was too cold, too much distance.
And that was how Merlin woke, turning his face to Arthur's with a sleepy-eyed smile, bemused and placid until Arthur caressed him to fullness, hardening again in Merlin as he did, and then Arthur showed him what he had missed, in loving, precise detail.