
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/933110.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Merlin_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Merlin/Arthur_Pendragon_(Merlin)
  Character:
      Merlin_(Merlin), Arthur_Pendragon_(Merlin)
  Additional Tags:
      Prostitution, Brothels, Canon_Era, Humor, Birthday_Presents, Come_Eating,
      Bacon, Summer_Pornathon_2013, First_Time, Alternate_Canon
  Series:
      Part 2 of claudine's_summerpornathon_2013
  Collections:
      Summer_Pornathon_2013
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-19 Words: 726
****** Necessity is the Mother of Invention ******
by claudine
Summary
     In which Arthur's grandaunt buys him a visit to the brothel for his
     birthday, and our intrepid Prince meets an impertinent whore.
Notes
     Challenge Two: Multimedia
     Inspired by: Gif_#2 (NSFW) and bacon
     Entry #53
     Warnings: underage (Arthur is 17, Merlin is 16)
This, Arthur thinks, was one of Grandaunt Owena’s worst birthday gift ideas. A
night at The Dancing Maid’s, paid in advance and good for half a year,
presented to him in front of his father. The very thought makes him curdle in
embarrassment.
He’d been putting it off for the longest time, waiting until the last week that
the payment was good for—waste not, want not, his late nurse had always told
him, bless her soul.
That’s the only reason why he’s here (of course), in front of this godforsaken
pleasure house with its gaudy signboard (which boldly proclaims it’s “the best
pleasure house in all of Albion” in an untidy hand).
“Welcome, Pr—”
Arthur shushes the proprietress, impatient, and furtively looks around. No one
seems to have noticed, to his relief.
There’s a girl at the end of the line who reminds him too much of Morgana, and
he blanches, discomfited. He refuses them and asks if there is anybody else.
The proprietress eyes him carefully, then nods.
He ends up in a medium-sized room at the back and a man—boy, really—who looks
about as servile as an rebel leader.
                                      ***
“Good day,” Arthur says stiffly.
The boy bursts into a peal of giggles.
“Good day,” he says. “If we could get to the fucking, sir, it would be.”
Arthur bristles but stands at the foot of the bed, discomfited. He asks for a
name because it seems rude not to. It’s obviously a fake name—Merlin, really?
Who names their child after a bird?
Merlin huffs, pulling him to the bed.
“Your first time?” he asks, undoing the laces of his breeches, and slips his
tunic off easily. He’s already stiff and red, like he’d prepared himself before
Arthur came.
Arthur stares. He’s pale all over, but not delicate. Wiry. When they finally
fall into the bed together, he jolts a little. Merlin is hot like a furnace.
“My first with a boy,” he confesses, shy. His first had been an early fumbling
with a maid he loved the summer he was fifteen, a quiet girl named Gwen.
Merlin smiles at him, the awkwardness of the encounter dissipating. Arthur’s
offer of vulnerability is accepted with graciousness.
Cockily, he says, “Well, kiss me then.”
It startles a laugh out of him and he complies, opening his mouth over
Merlin’s. His mouth is hot just like the rest of him, hot and wet. They share
breaths, and their tongues curl around each other. Arthur rubs his cock on
Merlin’s thigh like a dog, back and forth. It’s delicious friction, and he can
feel himself getting bigger the more he rubs.
But friction is not enough and Merlin reaches for Arthur’s cock.
“Put it in me, before I force myself upon you,” he says, grinning. “I’m already
wet. Inside.”
Arthur bats his hands away and checks; yes, he is slippery and soft inside,
just like a girl. Primed for his cock. It makes his heart thud faster, eager
for the fuck.
Carefully, he aligns himself and pushes forward. There’s a resounding moan from
Merlin, and he gasps. He’d forgotten how good it felt to sink himself into warm
flesh. There’s a pause—and he hears now, how loud their panting is in the
stillness of the room.
Then Merlin grips his back harder, urging him to move, and he does, his hips
snapping in and out in sharp bursts.
“Arthur,” Merlin begs as they’re close to climax. His nails dig into Arthur’s
back and slide down, and the little welts of pain that Arthur feels pushes him
over. Merlin reaches between them, his fingers closing around his cock, jerking
hurriedly until he comes.
                                      ***
Later, he’s sex-sated and sleepy, but he makes the cursory effort to get off
Merlin, wincing as he pulls out. Merlin sighs and lets his legs fall open. He
looks obscene like that with Arthur’s come oozing out from his hole, stark
against the red puffiness of it. It’s tempting, and Arthur pushes a finger in,
scooping out some come before licking it. Then he sniffs his finger.
“Bacon,” he whispers, confused.
Merlin looks up at him from his sprawl, cheeks flushed, then turns to glance at
the cup of oil on the side table.
“Round two?” he asks hurriedly, his voice high.
Not such a terrible gift after all, Arthur decides.
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