underoursky



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    “I just mean your—uh—princely decorum is not all it can be right now. It’s a little wine-drowned. Wine drunk. Wine,” Merlin tries, the words sticking in his throat. His mouth is dry; it does that when Arthur arches his back like he’s doing now, stretching himself like a fucking lion across the bed, all royal and beautiful.

    “Merlin,” he sighs, waving a hand messily in the air beside him before letting it drop heavily to the mattress. “Kiss my ass.”

    And Merlin is really, really not sure what comes over him, but he. He does.

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    15 Jun 2026

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    Arthur never asked to be obsessed with Merlin’s stupid little neckerchief. It just happened.

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    15 Jun 2026

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    Merlin is very glad Arthur’s back is turned to him, because he’s quite certain he’s just made a violently affronted face. He tries to school the expression, nose still wrinkled up dual fondness and disgust as he towel dries Arthur’s shoulders and blurts, “are you offering me your dirty bath water?”

    Arthur reels around and glares at him. “Well, I suppose when you put it that way it hardly sounds generous. Or sanitary.”

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    15 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 86

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    Merlin,” he hisses, nails digging into the back of his neck with a warning bite. “My actual servant is going to walk in any minute and catch you cleaning me up with your fucking tongue.”

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    15 Jun 2026

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    “Perhaps we are doing her a favor then,” he says, pausing to chew the inside of his cheek before adding in a measured, careful voice. “I wouldn’t want to live without my love, either.”

    Arthur whips around in the saddle to stare at him, eyes hard and dark, like the storm clouds building on the distant horizon. “What love? You haven’t got a love,” he snaps, like he’s the sole keeper of all Merlin’s secrets.

    —-

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    15 Jun 2026