Camelot_Drabble

Different From The Land That You Know

Thump!

Thump!

Thump!

Merlin’s first realization as the cobwebs of sleep began to melt away was that his heart was beating a staccato rhythm against his ribcage in complete juxtaposition to restful slumber.

The next was that he could barely hear the outside world for the blood rushing in his ears like a waterfall.

The third was that he was breathing heavily… Panting, if truth be told.

But it was what happened next that shocked the warlock straight to his very soul: Inside the cavern of his skull, a voice echoed his name, a very familiar voice: Arthur’s.

“Merlin…”

It was definitely Arthur’s voice, but the tone he used was one Merlin had never heard before…one he couldn’t quite place.

And then, on the backs of his eyelids, the prince appeared, dressed in an open-collared white lawn shirt and tight dark trousers. He seemed to lean forward until he was almost lying atop Merlin…but of course, there was no weight because Arthur wasn’t really there…or was he?

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do this…” Arthur said in a manner that could only be called seductive. His phantom hand slid slowly down Merlin’s chest, and the warlock’s nerve endings tingled everywhere it touched.

And it was at that moment when Merlin realized that his manhood was rock hard inside his trousers.

That, and he was obviously in the thrall of some kind of enchantment. Merlin tried to open his eyes to dissipate the spell, but found he could not.

“I want to feel you,” Arthur continued, his hand sliding lower, molding itself along Merlin’s erection with a tantalizing pressure that was undeniably real.

“I want to touch you.” Arthur’s eyes were dilated and his face was flushed, as if he were just as turned on as Merlin was at that moment.  Then, inexplicably, Merlin could feel Arthur’s hand against his cock skin-to-skin as if Merlin were not wearing trousers or smalls, even though he was sure that fact hadn’t actually changed.

“Oh, Gods…” Merlin breathed inaudibly with a hitching gasp. Despite knowing he should be fighting whatever this was, his bones melted and his willpower turned to jelly as Arthur’s hand caressed him again and again. Merlin’s head lolled limply against the pack he used as his pillow.

A second hand joined the first, and Merlin felt his balls being fondled and squeezed, and then Arthur’s fingers sure and firm as they pressed against a heretofore unknown spot behind it that shot white hot arousal into Merlin’s bloodstream.

Merlin’s jaw fell slack as beads of sweat dotted his forehead.

As Arthur’s hands continued their sensual assault, the prince slid stealthily lower, his crotch pressing against Merlin’s leg, and there was no doubt that he was also fully aroused. This fact merely heightened the already mounting pleasure coursing through Merlin. Anticipation hiked his excitement level up even higher.

Blue eyes met blue for a long moment before Arthur whispered with a soft smile, “I want to taste you…” and then slowly, reverently, he licked a warm, wet path from base of Merlin’s cock right to the head, making him whimper from the exquisite torture.

And then, as Arthur locked eyes with Merlin again as if making sure the warlock was watching him, he placed his lips around the throbbing tip and swirled his tongue around it like a kitten with a bowl of cream.

Never in his life had Merlin experienced such an act and he felt as if he were going insane from the intense pleasure of it. A long, keening moan burst from his lips… a sound that suddenly doubled in volume and changed in tone.

What?

Merlin’s eyes snapped open in shock, only to meet Gwaine’s flushed, startled face staring back at him.

Each man’s eyes widened comically as they simultaneously realized they were not alone in their supernatural experience. Whatever this was, it was happening to the both of them.

Time seemed to stop for a long, pregnant moment and Merlin was just starting to wonder if the enchantment had been broken…

…Until the feel of a phantom mouth slipping down the entire length of their cocks had both men scrambling for the fastenings of their trousers.

Too aroused to even care about the sheer embarrassment of exposing himself in front of Gwaine, Merlin slammed his eyes shut, tilted his head away from his companion, slipped his long, trembling fingers underneath his smalls to wrap around his manhood and then stroked as if his life depended on it.

As Merlin’s hand worked, Arthur’s phantom mouth and tongue also teased and sucked him, his teeth scraped him, his fingers pressed and prodded that secret spot that made Merlin’s every nerve ending tingle, combust, and burst into flame.

Just when Merlin thought he might actually die from the knife’s edge of pleasure and pain he felt, a sudden, molten, white hot, unadulterated ecstasy washed over him in waves that seemed to go on forever. As he groaned and writhed wildly in its wake, flashes of color, light and magic burst to life behind Merlin’s eyelids. He hardly noticed as his seed spurted all over his hand and smalls.

It was a long while before Merlin’s bones—which had apparently evaporated during the conflagration of his orgasm—reformed enough for him to slip his hand free of his trousers and retie the fastenings with fumbling fingers.

Rolling his head back toward Gwaine, Merlin cracked one eye open and studied his companion. Gwaine’s eyes were still closed, but if his friend’s heaving chest, sweaty brow, and wrecked expression was anything to go by, Merlin had obviously not been the only one to find release.

Finally catching his breath enough to speak, Merlin hoarsely asked his friend, “What the hell was that?”