Escape wasn't his plan
Jan. 31st, 2016 01:03 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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archaeologist_d
Title: Escape was not his plan
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Horse-play was one word for it. Getting manhandled was another. Merlin didn't mind either one.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 100
Prompt: #196- escape
Author's Notes: None
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; BBC and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
-----------------------------------
Arthur's shirt harsh against Merlin's face, beneath, he felt the hard pull of princely muscles. Rough, ruthless, a sword-solid arm tightened around Merlin's neck. In his hair was the wild scrap of knuckles.
Arthur was an arse, too boisterous by half, always pulling Merlin close, strong-arming him onto the floor, laughing as he did so. Arthur didn't know his own strength. At times, Merlin left with bruises, yellow-green-purple, scattered across his skin.
But other times, Arthur's touch sent him soaring up, breathless with want.
Merlin could escape Arthur's rough-housing, but why would he when it led to so much more?
archaeologist_dTitle: Escape was not his plan
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Horse-play was one word for it. Getting manhandled was another. Merlin didn't mind either one.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 100
Prompt: #196- escape
Author's Notes: None
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; BBC and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
-----------------------------------
Arthur's shirt harsh against Merlin's face, beneath, he felt the hard pull of princely muscles. Rough, ruthless, a sword-solid arm tightened around Merlin's neck. In his hair was the wild scrap of knuckles.
Arthur was an arse, too boisterous by half, always pulling Merlin close, strong-arming him onto the floor, laughing as he did so. Arthur didn't know his own strength. At times, Merlin left with bruises, yellow-green-purple, scattered across his skin.
But other times, Arthur's touch sent him soaring up, breathless with want.
Merlin could escape Arthur's rough-housing, but why would he when it led to so much more?
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