Sophinisba Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophinisba) wrote2011-01-10 05:31 pm
sophinisba) wrote2011-01-10 05:31 pm
Entry tags:
Merlin fic: People gonna talk (whether you doing bad or good)
Title: People gonna talk (whether you doing bad or good)
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing(s): Freya/Merlin, other pairings mentioned
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 3702
kmm prompt/summary: Modern AU for this![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
kinkme_merlin prompt: "Freya/Merlin - 'Lady of the Lake' is a nickname Merlin comes up with for Freya after discovering how wet she gets during foreplay. DirtyTalking!Merlin, please."
Contents/k-b credit/author's notes: I tried to make this a![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo postage stamp with the squares bodily secretions, humiliation (situational), sensory deprivation, and foot/shoe fetish; but the foot stuff ended up being pretty minor, and the main things are vaginal fluid and dirty talk. The title is from the song "Cheers (Drink to That)" by Rihanna. This fic has a somewhat unsympathetic view of several characters.
Links: Posted on the kink meme on January 3rd and at the AO3 a few minutes ago.
Freya can't wait for the holiday season to be over. She's broke, for one thing, and looking forward to school starting back up so she can go back to work and start paying for all those Christmas presents, even though the ones she gave were not nearly as expensive as the ones Merlin bought her.
That's the biggest thing that's different this year. It's the first time in her adult life that she's had a boyfriend to go to holiday parties with, and though she thought that would be a lot of fun, it's turned out to mean twice the number of parties you're invited to and twice as hard to say no. And the truth is, nights like this, when it's cold and slippery outside and she's not wearing any tights and the shoes he gave her last week would be hard to walk in on a normal day, and the fancy frock he gave her really does not fit her at all and there's a room full of strangers getting drunk around her, she really does miss her life as a single girl who spends New Year's Eve home alone, watching Pride and Prejudice and eating chocolate truffles.
What makes it worse is that this isn't even a party where they know more than a few people. It's at Merlin's boss's house where everyone but Freya and Merlin (and, all right, Arthur's girlfriend Gwen, who's lovely, and their friend Lancelot, who's a peach) is posh, and Freya feels even more gaudy and out of place in this dress than she would otherwise.
It's because of Merlin's job that he's able to get her presents like this, and to drive her to parties in his own car, and maybe mingling at parties is important to his job somehow, so she should do her part, though she really can't see the usefulness in any of it.
"Arthur's not nearly as much of a prat as he seems, once you get to know him," Merlin had argued sincerely while they were getting ready to come out tonight. "It's probably the same with most of his friends. We just need to talk to them, and it'll be fun. Anyway, do this for me and I promise we'll leave by 12:15. We can come back here and start the New Year off right."
"Just the two of us?" Freya said, working the tiny, stiff little buckles of one of the shoes.
"Just the two of us."
Sitting next to him on Arthur's couch, Freya smiles to herself, remembering that there are some things she doesn't miss at all about being single, and things she likes very much about being with Merlin. She hates chitchatting with strangers, but she loves him, at least she thinks she does, and he seems to be having a good time. He doesn't drink so he'll be good to drive, as always, and once they leave they'll be back at his place in ten minutes, and most likely having sex by 12:30.
When she glances over at him he's finishing off a piece of cake. He's smiling and paying attention to what Morgana's saying but Freya's just watching his mouth as he licks the crumbs and icing off one finger after another, obviously caring more about savouring the sweetness than getting his hands clean. Freya crosses her legs and checks her watch. Not even eleven yet, goddammit. 2011 can't come soon enough. She gets up and goes for another cup of punch.
(She can feel Merlin's eyes on her feet and her arse as she walks, unsteady in the high heels. She doesn't think it's particularly sexy but she doesn't mind it either – it's fun, like playing dress-up with her mum's things when she was a girl, and for some reason it works for him, so she goes with it.)
When she goes back another few people she doesn't recognise have joined the group. Great. Apparently Merlin doesn't know them either because they are, like most people who meet him for the first time, making uninspired jokes about his name. What's different this time is that Merlin doesn't seem annoyed, and even chuckles when a puffed up (though admittedly rather attractive) bloke called Gwaine asks what kind of magic tricks Merlin knows. Freya sighs. At least this one didn't say anything about Merlin's wand.
"I'm not bad," Merlin says easily, touching Freya's shoulder as she sits down next to him on the couch. "But I'm nothing compared to the Lady of the Lake here."
Freya chokes on her punch and elbows Merlin in the ribs, while Gwaine grins blankly, like someone who's worried everybody in the group got some medieval literary reference but him.
"What, the watery tart, you mean?" he tries.
"Aw, now that's not very respectful. You wouldn't talk like that if you knew what kind of power Freya has." He takes her hand and squeezes and then kisses her quickly on the cheek, and she can feel his silent laughter. She squeezes back, feeling heat on her cheeks and her…yeah.
"I beg your pardon, Freya," says Gwaine, apparently ready to move on from the joke he doesn't get. He asks her about her job, and she sits up straight and pretends to be a regular adult whose boyfriend is just being a little silly and nonsensical, and everyone acts normal and reasonable for the next ten minutes, although she thinks she catches Morgana and her girlfriend Sophia smirking at her a few times.
Gwen comes around with two bottles of wine, asking if anyone needs a refill.
"I was just thinking I'd like some more water, actually," says Merlin.
"Oh," said Gwen, "let me –"
"Don't be silly, I can get it. Anybody else want some?"
"I'll go with you," Freya says, getting up and smiling at the group while carefully avoiding eye contact with Morgana and Sophia.
"Did you just call me a slut in front of all those people?" she asks softly as they move toward the kitchen.
"No, I called you a lady!" he says in his normal, cheerful party voice. Then he pauses in the middle of the room, leans in close to her ear and says, "None of them have to know what it means," and, in a whisper low enough that no one else will hear, "Nobody else here has had his mouth on your pussy, as far as I know."
Freya ducks her head, bites her lip to keep from laughing, and starts toward the kitchen again.
"Is there something I should know?" Merlin asks out loud as he skips to catch up with her. Freya shakes her head and her long hair and lets loose with her laughter.
It's dark but she hears a shout and some scrambling as she pushes through the door. Merlin comes in behind her and turns on the light, and Freya's surprised to find Lancelot and a man she doesn't know leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen.
"Oh!" says Lancelot, and Freya knows he was the one shouting. Merlin comes to stand stiffly next to Freya and she has a distinct sense that, like her, he'd been planning to start making out as soon as they made it through the door.
"This is Percival," Lancelot says, his voice still sounding strained as he gestures at the other man. "Percival, Merlin and Freya. Merlin's another friend from work."
"Nice to meet you," Percival says, not moving. His hands are behind his back.
Freya nods in greeting.
"We were just gonna get some water," Merlin says, "but we, er…"
"No," Lancelot says quickly, "go ahead. Here, let me…"
He starts to move toward the sink but Percival takes hold of his wrist and starts tugging him back toward the party. "Let's just go," he says to Lancelot, voice low and rough. "I don't want to wait till midnight."
Lancelot smiles helplessly at Merlin and Freya and lets himself be dragged away. Merlin waves as they go.
"He seems nice," says Freya after a moment. "…And I think I know exactly how he feels."
"I bet he doesn't feel so slick inside you could shove a cock into him and he'd barely even feel it," Merlin says as he pushes her against the cupboards. She's still getting used to hearing him talk like this and, she suspects, he's still getting used to saying the words out loud. She presses back against him and kisses him to let him know, yeah, he's doing good. A metal drawer handle's poking into her arse and his hand brushes soft against the side of her breast, and she's thinking about how it would feel, how it does feel, the smooth glide of it, the bulk and the stretch without any friction. Her mouth falls open and he breathes, "You can't even wait another hour, can you?"
"Why should I have to? We should just leave early, like they did."
"Or we could just do it here."
"Like they tried to do? And have some other couple walk in on us?" Her voice is rising and she starts panting as he pushes her back farther and squeezes up at her hips. "Oh, Merlin, I can't even believe you're – " but she half jumps, half lets him lift her up to sit on the edge of the counter. "This is completely ridiculous."
"And you're completely loving it," he says, taking hold of one of her feet now and slowly undoing the buckles. Once it's loose Freya kicks it off and across the room before he can get too distracted.
"Oops," she says.
"Yeah, guess you can't walk back to the car now," he says mildly.
Freya tips her head back and laughs, feeling reckless and hungry. Maybe it wouldn't be such a crazy thing to do it here. Or maybe it would be crazy, but in a good way. Merlin starts kissing her bare toes.
"Don't be so impatient. You can play with my feet as much as you want when we get back."
"Oh, I plan on it. I'm not the one being impatient," he reminds her. "You're the one who's dripping for it."
He takes off her other shoe and lets it drop to the floor, cradles her foot in his hand (it tickles, the way he holds her) and takes a deep breath through his nose. "I could smell you back in the room, you know. I didn't even have to touch you. Your knickers were soaked through before we even got out here, weren't they? Just from sitting there thinking about what I'm gonna do to you later."
"Or what you're gonna to do me now," says Freya, because of course it's true. She's been wet ever since he called her that name. And of course he knew what calling her that would do to her.
"I bet you wouldn't even mind if someone walked in on us either," Merlin says. He's got a thumb and finger wrapped around her ankle now, gently pushing her leg farther out to the side. "You'd like it if I had told them all what a greedy slut you are."
"Aahhh, God! That is so not true!" Freya moans, pushing her hips forward while Merlin's hand slips up her calf. "I am shy! I am polite, and nervous, and easily embarrassed! I never even –"
"Had a real boyfriend before me," he says, "but once you found out what it was like, what you were like, you couldn't get enough. If only they knew…"
Merlin's being a little over-the-top, but he's not wrong. The few boys she'd dated in school hadn't known the first thing about foreplay, and Freya had got the idea that sex was…well, fine. But she hadn't really understood why people made such a big deal about it. Later on she'd found her own groove with the likes of Colin Firth on her laptop screen and a vibrator in her hand, but she was as surprised as Merlin that first time he slipped his hand down her pants and found his fingers covered with fluid.
She was embarrassed the first couple times. He was both amused and thrilled but tried not to make a big deal about it, knowing that she truly was nervous and easily embarrassed. Except they both noticed that the more he talked about it, the wetter she got. At this point, she gets almost as much of a kick out of it as he does. The embarrassment still lingers, familiar and warm and folding itself in with the wet heat of her arousal, one more aspect of her sexuality for them to play with. He's right – she can't get enough.
She's not sure if it's really a noise she hears from the other room or just her imagination, but it's enough to make her freeze, and then close her legs, even though she's really liking the feel of Merlin's hand sliding up her thigh. "Wait," she says, and he does, stops and looks to her face to see what's coming next.
With a great effort, she scoots back away from him and pulls his hand off her leg. "It's a nice fantasy, but I don't actually want Arthur or Gwen or somebody to walk in on us. Can we just – what's that door there? It doesn't go outside, does it?"
"It's probably locked, knowing him," Merlin answers without looking.
Freya hops back onto the floor (which is only a little sticky, and pleasantly solid under her bare feet) and crosses the room to the other door she's seen. It opens easily and there's a flight of stairs leading down – to a cellar, she supposes.
"Perfect!" she exclaims, and pulls Merlin in after her without turning on the light.
"Really?" he says dubiously, standing on the landing with his arms around her. "You think this is perfect? You're not worried about, I don't know, tumbling down the stairs and breaking our necks?"
"Nah," says Freya, and sits down with her feet on the next step to the top. "I'll be up here, and you won't be coming… at least not until after midnight when we go back. So neither of us is going to lose our balance. I don't want to go down there – cellars are creepy."
Merlin snorts. "Pitch black staircases though, that's a great place to have sex. Not creepy at all." Very carefully he starts to climb down around her, groping first at Freya's shoulders, then her breasts and waist and legs, as if he'll fall if he lets go. She suspects he's exaggerating his clumsiness in order to feel her up some more, and she can't say she minds.
She spreads her legs wide and flips up the long skirt of her dress, enjoying the wanton pose here where nobody can see, and only Merlin can feel. "Can you smell me now?"
"Yeah, I can smell you," he says, starting to get back into it as he grips her calves again and settles himself – awkwardly, to be sure – on the steps below. "I could find my way to your wet cunt in the dark even if you tied my hands behind my back."
That shocks a laugh out of her. "Maybe we should try that sometime!"
"Probably not on the stairs to Arthur's cellar though."
"No…. but the new year is full of possibilities."
Merlin's running his nose and his lips along the inside of her thigh now, and the teasing's good but, "Come on," she says, and fumbles a little in the dark until she tangles her hand in his hair and guides his head toward her crotch. He goes with it, puts his open mouth over everything and they both groan as he tongues her through her knickers. Flat, broad pressure rubs wet fabric against wet hair against wet, swollen labia, and Freya might be tugging a little harder at his hair than she really ought to. She makes herself let go, leans back on her elbows. Merlin uses his teeth, a soft bite that takes in the wettest part of her knickers and a tender little piece of her flesh and kneads them for a while, and then sucks, drawing the moisture out of the cloth.
"God."
He does it again, lets go of the bite and sucks some more, and Freya can feel her body releasing more liquid to replace whatever he takes.
Merlin laughs without moving away, his breath soft and warm. "You sure I'm not coming? Your cunt seems to think I'm about to fuck you."
"Sure," Freya pants, "fuck me with your tongue, your cock, whatever. Just… give me…"
He surprises her by pulling away. From the way he presses on the top of her thighs she thinks he's kneeling up.
"What…?"
"Gotta get these off you," he says, tugging at the waist of her knickers with two crooked fingers at her hip.
"Oh."
She brings her legs together. The stretchy fabric bunches up as he rolls them down her thighs. When Freya's bare arse touches the floor of the landing again she realises she didn't look to see how clean it was before she shut the door. Ah well.
"Here." He pushes the ball of damp cloth into her face. The smell really is overpowering. "Want a taste?"
"Nnnnggh," Freya answers, shaking her head.
"Okay, you just hold on to these for me then." He traces along her shoulder and arm until he finds her hand. She takes hold and squeezes.
"Fuck me," says Freya, who never used to think she was the kind of girl to say things like that.
"Yes, my lady," says Merlin, who used to be a perfect gentleman, really. She can almost hear his smirk.
Merlin's mouth is wet like her cunt as he kisses sloppily back up her thighs.
"You can't get enough," she chides him.
"Hey, I said I was thirsty."
Then his mouth's finally there, his rough tongue pushing saliva and her thick juices up from her opening and over her clit. Freya yells and doesn't care if they can hear her in the kitchen or the whole house, it's all so messy and good. Merlin pushes two long fingers inside her, slides them in and out a few times while his tongue keeps swiping over her clit. Freya's thighs are already clenching and her arse is lifting up off the floor. She wants to take him in, thinks she could take another two fingers, maybe his whole hand. But he pulls them out and then it's just his thumb in her vagina and then, oh God, then those two fingers are rubbing around her arsehole, slicking it up with her cum.
"Merlin," she murmurs, suddenly short of breath.
He keeps his fingers moving but lifts his head for a moment to ask, "This okay?"
She nods vigorously and then remembers he can't see her. "Yeah. Do, anything you, just – "
Merlin's fingers move slow this time and it's not so smooth. She's tight there and it hurts a little, and it also hurts where he's grabbing her flesh with this teeth again and sucking, so hard, and she's so swollen and sensitive and he's pulling all her defences away.
Freya comes breaking, gushing, tears streaming down her face and juices spilling out over Merlin's hand. She's undone, head and shoulders falling back onto the floor, and she's not sad but she can't stop crying.
"Freya?"
He's climbing back up to her, his body warm on top of hers.
"Freya, it's okay," he says gently, just a little bit anxious. She nods. The floor is hard.
"I know," she blubbers, embarrassed and confused, "it's good, you – I'm sorry."
He hushes her and touches the side of her face, his hand still wet and movements awkward in the dark, but once he finds her it's all right. Once he starts kissing her she finally starts to calm down. She can taste herself, salty and bitter, the taste stronger the deeper he pushes in with his tongue. It's all right.
*
When Merlin climbs up and peeks outside the door, the kitchen's quiet. He helps her sit up and goes out, leaving the door ajar, with a crack of light for Freya to start to get her bearings again. He comes back a minute later with a glass of water, a clean dishcloth and her shoes. Freya realises that she's still holding her own damp knickers in one hand. She laughs and lets them go, and starts to clean herself up while he lovingly does up the damn shoes.
"Well, that's what I call ending the year right," she says eventually.
"Yeah? It wasn't –"
She shakes her head, still a little embarrassed, but not ashamed, not with him. "I think it must've just been a physical reaction, like all the other…. Felt kind of good to let it go, actually, though I can't say I want it to happen that way every time from now on."
He nods thoughtfully. "Hey, who knows, maybe I'll be the one to start crying next time."
"We've only got, what, an hour till we find out?" Freya tries looking at her watch, but she can't read it in the half-light.
"Less than that, I think."
"Do you want to go back out there?"
"If you feel up to it, or we could stay here for a while longer if you want."
So they sit on the top of the stairs for a few minutes, side by side with his arm around her shoulders, and talk about embarrassing public crying moments, which leads to talk of other embarrassing memories, and Freya learns quite a few things about Merlin's childhood that she hadn't known before. At one point they hear people talking in the kitchen and they just go quiet, waiting together in the calm dark. When they start hearing people count down they crawl back outside and join the party. Freya's naked under the dress, her knickers tucked in Merlin's pocket. When they kiss on the stroke of midnight she can still taste a faint trace of what they've done, and it's better than champagne.
They're out the door by 12:05.
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing(s): Freya/Merlin, other pairings mentioned
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 3702
kmm prompt/summary: Modern AU for this
kinkme_merlin prompt: "Freya/Merlin - 'Lady of the Lake' is a nickname Merlin comes up with for Freya after discovering how wet she gets during foreplay. DirtyTalking!Merlin, please."Contents/k-b credit/author's notes: I tried to make this a
kink_bingo postage stamp with the squares bodily secretions, humiliation (situational), sensory deprivation, and foot/shoe fetish; but the foot stuff ended up being pretty minor, and the main things are vaginal fluid and dirty talk. The title is from the song "Cheers (Drink to That)" by Rihanna. This fic has a somewhat unsympathetic view of several characters.Links: Posted on the kink meme on January 3rd and at the AO3 a few minutes ago.
Freya can't wait for the holiday season to be over. She's broke, for one thing, and looking forward to school starting back up so she can go back to work and start paying for all those Christmas presents, even though the ones she gave were not nearly as expensive as the ones Merlin bought her.
That's the biggest thing that's different this year. It's the first time in her adult life that she's had a boyfriend to go to holiday parties with, and though she thought that would be a lot of fun, it's turned out to mean twice the number of parties you're invited to and twice as hard to say no. And the truth is, nights like this, when it's cold and slippery outside and she's not wearing any tights and the shoes he gave her last week would be hard to walk in on a normal day, and the fancy frock he gave her really does not fit her at all and there's a room full of strangers getting drunk around her, she really does miss her life as a single girl who spends New Year's Eve home alone, watching Pride and Prejudice and eating chocolate truffles.
What makes it worse is that this isn't even a party where they know more than a few people. It's at Merlin's boss's house where everyone but Freya and Merlin (and, all right, Arthur's girlfriend Gwen, who's lovely, and their friend Lancelot, who's a peach) is posh, and Freya feels even more gaudy and out of place in this dress than she would otherwise.
It's because of Merlin's job that he's able to get her presents like this, and to drive her to parties in his own car, and maybe mingling at parties is important to his job somehow, so she should do her part, though she really can't see the usefulness in any of it.
"Arthur's not nearly as much of a prat as he seems, once you get to know him," Merlin had argued sincerely while they were getting ready to come out tonight. "It's probably the same with most of his friends. We just need to talk to them, and it'll be fun. Anyway, do this for me and I promise we'll leave by 12:15. We can come back here and start the New Year off right."
"Just the two of us?" Freya said, working the tiny, stiff little buckles of one of the shoes.
"Just the two of us."
Sitting next to him on Arthur's couch, Freya smiles to herself, remembering that there are some things she doesn't miss at all about being single, and things she likes very much about being with Merlin. She hates chitchatting with strangers, but she loves him, at least she thinks she does, and he seems to be having a good time. He doesn't drink so he'll be good to drive, as always, and once they leave they'll be back at his place in ten minutes, and most likely having sex by 12:30.
When she glances over at him he's finishing off a piece of cake. He's smiling and paying attention to what Morgana's saying but Freya's just watching his mouth as he licks the crumbs and icing off one finger after another, obviously caring more about savouring the sweetness than getting his hands clean. Freya crosses her legs and checks her watch. Not even eleven yet, goddammit. 2011 can't come soon enough. She gets up and goes for another cup of punch.
(She can feel Merlin's eyes on her feet and her arse as she walks, unsteady in the high heels. She doesn't think it's particularly sexy but she doesn't mind it either – it's fun, like playing dress-up with her mum's things when she was a girl, and for some reason it works for him, so she goes with it.)
When she goes back another few people she doesn't recognise have joined the group. Great. Apparently Merlin doesn't know them either because they are, like most people who meet him for the first time, making uninspired jokes about his name. What's different this time is that Merlin doesn't seem annoyed, and even chuckles when a puffed up (though admittedly rather attractive) bloke called Gwaine asks what kind of magic tricks Merlin knows. Freya sighs. At least this one didn't say anything about Merlin's wand.
"I'm not bad," Merlin says easily, touching Freya's shoulder as she sits down next to him on the couch. "But I'm nothing compared to the Lady of the Lake here."
Freya chokes on her punch and elbows Merlin in the ribs, while Gwaine grins blankly, like someone who's worried everybody in the group got some medieval literary reference but him.
"What, the watery tart, you mean?" he tries.
"Aw, now that's not very respectful. You wouldn't talk like that if you knew what kind of power Freya has." He takes her hand and squeezes and then kisses her quickly on the cheek, and she can feel his silent laughter. She squeezes back, feeling heat on her cheeks and her…yeah.
"I beg your pardon, Freya," says Gwaine, apparently ready to move on from the joke he doesn't get. He asks her about her job, and she sits up straight and pretends to be a regular adult whose boyfriend is just being a little silly and nonsensical, and everyone acts normal and reasonable for the next ten minutes, although she thinks she catches Morgana and her girlfriend Sophia smirking at her a few times.
Gwen comes around with two bottles of wine, asking if anyone needs a refill.
"I was just thinking I'd like some more water, actually," says Merlin.
"Oh," said Gwen, "let me –"
"Don't be silly, I can get it. Anybody else want some?"
"I'll go with you," Freya says, getting up and smiling at the group while carefully avoiding eye contact with Morgana and Sophia.
"Did you just call me a slut in front of all those people?" she asks softly as they move toward the kitchen.
"No, I called you a lady!" he says in his normal, cheerful party voice. Then he pauses in the middle of the room, leans in close to her ear and says, "None of them have to know what it means," and, in a whisper low enough that no one else will hear, "Nobody else here has had his mouth on your pussy, as far as I know."
Freya ducks her head, bites her lip to keep from laughing, and starts toward the kitchen again.
"Is there something I should know?" Merlin asks out loud as he skips to catch up with her. Freya shakes her head and her long hair and lets loose with her laughter.
It's dark but she hears a shout and some scrambling as she pushes through the door. Merlin comes in behind her and turns on the light, and Freya's surprised to find Lancelot and a man she doesn't know leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen.
"Oh!" says Lancelot, and Freya knows he was the one shouting. Merlin comes to stand stiffly next to Freya and she has a distinct sense that, like her, he'd been planning to start making out as soon as they made it through the door.
"This is Percival," Lancelot says, his voice still sounding strained as he gestures at the other man. "Percival, Merlin and Freya. Merlin's another friend from work."
"Nice to meet you," Percival says, not moving. His hands are behind his back.
Freya nods in greeting.
"We were just gonna get some water," Merlin says, "but we, er…"
"No," Lancelot says quickly, "go ahead. Here, let me…"
He starts to move toward the sink but Percival takes hold of his wrist and starts tugging him back toward the party. "Let's just go," he says to Lancelot, voice low and rough. "I don't want to wait till midnight."
Lancelot smiles helplessly at Merlin and Freya and lets himself be dragged away. Merlin waves as they go.
"He seems nice," says Freya after a moment. "…And I think I know exactly how he feels."
"I bet he doesn't feel so slick inside you could shove a cock into him and he'd barely even feel it," Merlin says as he pushes her against the cupboards. She's still getting used to hearing him talk like this and, she suspects, he's still getting used to saying the words out loud. She presses back against him and kisses him to let him know, yeah, he's doing good. A metal drawer handle's poking into her arse and his hand brushes soft against the side of her breast, and she's thinking about how it would feel, how it does feel, the smooth glide of it, the bulk and the stretch without any friction. Her mouth falls open and he breathes, "You can't even wait another hour, can you?"
"Why should I have to? We should just leave early, like they did."
"Or we could just do it here."
"Like they tried to do? And have some other couple walk in on us?" Her voice is rising and she starts panting as he pushes her back farther and squeezes up at her hips. "Oh, Merlin, I can't even believe you're – " but she half jumps, half lets him lift her up to sit on the edge of the counter. "This is completely ridiculous."
"And you're completely loving it," he says, taking hold of one of her feet now and slowly undoing the buckles. Once it's loose Freya kicks it off and across the room before he can get too distracted.
"Oops," she says.
"Yeah, guess you can't walk back to the car now," he says mildly.
Freya tips her head back and laughs, feeling reckless and hungry. Maybe it wouldn't be such a crazy thing to do it here. Or maybe it would be crazy, but in a good way. Merlin starts kissing her bare toes.
"Don't be so impatient. You can play with my feet as much as you want when we get back."
"Oh, I plan on it. I'm not the one being impatient," he reminds her. "You're the one who's dripping for it."
He takes off her other shoe and lets it drop to the floor, cradles her foot in his hand (it tickles, the way he holds her) and takes a deep breath through his nose. "I could smell you back in the room, you know. I didn't even have to touch you. Your knickers were soaked through before we even got out here, weren't they? Just from sitting there thinking about what I'm gonna do to you later."
"Or what you're gonna to do me now," says Freya, because of course it's true. She's been wet ever since he called her that name. And of course he knew what calling her that would do to her.
"I bet you wouldn't even mind if someone walked in on us either," Merlin says. He's got a thumb and finger wrapped around her ankle now, gently pushing her leg farther out to the side. "You'd like it if I had told them all what a greedy slut you are."
"Aahhh, God! That is so not true!" Freya moans, pushing her hips forward while Merlin's hand slips up her calf. "I am shy! I am polite, and nervous, and easily embarrassed! I never even –"
"Had a real boyfriend before me," he says, "but once you found out what it was like, what you were like, you couldn't get enough. If only they knew…"
Merlin's being a little over-the-top, but he's not wrong. The few boys she'd dated in school hadn't known the first thing about foreplay, and Freya had got the idea that sex was…well, fine. But she hadn't really understood why people made such a big deal about it. Later on she'd found her own groove with the likes of Colin Firth on her laptop screen and a vibrator in her hand, but she was as surprised as Merlin that first time he slipped his hand down her pants and found his fingers covered with fluid.
She was embarrassed the first couple times. He was both amused and thrilled but tried not to make a big deal about it, knowing that she truly was nervous and easily embarrassed. Except they both noticed that the more he talked about it, the wetter she got. At this point, she gets almost as much of a kick out of it as he does. The embarrassment still lingers, familiar and warm and folding itself in with the wet heat of her arousal, one more aspect of her sexuality for them to play with. He's right – she can't get enough.
She's not sure if it's really a noise she hears from the other room or just her imagination, but it's enough to make her freeze, and then close her legs, even though she's really liking the feel of Merlin's hand sliding up her thigh. "Wait," she says, and he does, stops and looks to her face to see what's coming next.
With a great effort, she scoots back away from him and pulls his hand off her leg. "It's a nice fantasy, but I don't actually want Arthur or Gwen or somebody to walk in on us. Can we just – what's that door there? It doesn't go outside, does it?"
"It's probably locked, knowing him," Merlin answers without looking.
Freya hops back onto the floor (which is only a little sticky, and pleasantly solid under her bare feet) and crosses the room to the other door she's seen. It opens easily and there's a flight of stairs leading down – to a cellar, she supposes.
"Perfect!" she exclaims, and pulls Merlin in after her without turning on the light.
"Really?" he says dubiously, standing on the landing with his arms around her. "You think this is perfect? You're not worried about, I don't know, tumbling down the stairs and breaking our necks?"
"Nah," says Freya, and sits down with her feet on the next step to the top. "I'll be up here, and you won't be coming… at least not until after midnight when we go back. So neither of us is going to lose our balance. I don't want to go down there – cellars are creepy."
Merlin snorts. "Pitch black staircases though, that's a great place to have sex. Not creepy at all." Very carefully he starts to climb down around her, groping first at Freya's shoulders, then her breasts and waist and legs, as if he'll fall if he lets go. She suspects he's exaggerating his clumsiness in order to feel her up some more, and she can't say she minds.
She spreads her legs wide and flips up the long skirt of her dress, enjoying the wanton pose here where nobody can see, and only Merlin can feel. "Can you smell me now?"
"Yeah, I can smell you," he says, starting to get back into it as he grips her calves again and settles himself – awkwardly, to be sure – on the steps below. "I could find my way to your wet cunt in the dark even if you tied my hands behind my back."
That shocks a laugh out of her. "Maybe we should try that sometime!"
"Probably not on the stairs to Arthur's cellar though."
"No…. but the new year is full of possibilities."
Merlin's running his nose and his lips along the inside of her thigh now, and the teasing's good but, "Come on," she says, and fumbles a little in the dark until she tangles her hand in his hair and guides his head toward her crotch. He goes with it, puts his open mouth over everything and they both groan as he tongues her through her knickers. Flat, broad pressure rubs wet fabric against wet hair against wet, swollen labia, and Freya might be tugging a little harder at his hair than she really ought to. She makes herself let go, leans back on her elbows. Merlin uses his teeth, a soft bite that takes in the wettest part of her knickers and a tender little piece of her flesh and kneads them for a while, and then sucks, drawing the moisture out of the cloth.
"God."
He does it again, lets go of the bite and sucks some more, and Freya can feel her body releasing more liquid to replace whatever he takes.
Merlin laughs without moving away, his breath soft and warm. "You sure I'm not coming? Your cunt seems to think I'm about to fuck you."
"Sure," Freya pants, "fuck me with your tongue, your cock, whatever. Just… give me…"
He surprises her by pulling away. From the way he presses on the top of her thighs she thinks he's kneeling up.
"What…?"
"Gotta get these off you," he says, tugging at the waist of her knickers with two crooked fingers at her hip.
"Oh."
She brings her legs together. The stretchy fabric bunches up as he rolls them down her thighs. When Freya's bare arse touches the floor of the landing again she realises she didn't look to see how clean it was before she shut the door. Ah well.
"Here." He pushes the ball of damp cloth into her face. The smell really is overpowering. "Want a taste?"
"Nnnnggh," Freya answers, shaking her head.
"Okay, you just hold on to these for me then." He traces along her shoulder and arm until he finds her hand. She takes hold and squeezes.
"Fuck me," says Freya, who never used to think she was the kind of girl to say things like that.
"Yes, my lady," says Merlin, who used to be a perfect gentleman, really. She can almost hear his smirk.
Merlin's mouth is wet like her cunt as he kisses sloppily back up her thighs.
"You can't get enough," she chides him.
"Hey, I said I was thirsty."
Then his mouth's finally there, his rough tongue pushing saliva and her thick juices up from her opening and over her clit. Freya yells and doesn't care if they can hear her in the kitchen or the whole house, it's all so messy and good. Merlin pushes two long fingers inside her, slides them in and out a few times while his tongue keeps swiping over her clit. Freya's thighs are already clenching and her arse is lifting up off the floor. She wants to take him in, thinks she could take another two fingers, maybe his whole hand. But he pulls them out and then it's just his thumb in her vagina and then, oh God, then those two fingers are rubbing around her arsehole, slicking it up with her cum.
"Merlin," she murmurs, suddenly short of breath.
He keeps his fingers moving but lifts his head for a moment to ask, "This okay?"
She nods vigorously and then remembers he can't see her. "Yeah. Do, anything you, just – "
Merlin's fingers move slow this time and it's not so smooth. She's tight there and it hurts a little, and it also hurts where he's grabbing her flesh with this teeth again and sucking, so hard, and she's so swollen and sensitive and he's pulling all her defences away.
Freya comes breaking, gushing, tears streaming down her face and juices spilling out over Merlin's hand. She's undone, head and shoulders falling back onto the floor, and she's not sad but she can't stop crying.
"Freya?"
He's climbing back up to her, his body warm on top of hers.
"Freya, it's okay," he says gently, just a little bit anxious. She nods. The floor is hard.
"I know," she blubbers, embarrassed and confused, "it's good, you – I'm sorry."
He hushes her and touches the side of her face, his hand still wet and movements awkward in the dark, but once he finds her it's all right. Once he starts kissing her she finally starts to calm down. She can taste herself, salty and bitter, the taste stronger the deeper he pushes in with his tongue. It's all right.
*
When Merlin climbs up and peeks outside the door, the kitchen's quiet. He helps her sit up and goes out, leaving the door ajar, with a crack of light for Freya to start to get her bearings again. He comes back a minute later with a glass of water, a clean dishcloth and her shoes. Freya realises that she's still holding her own damp knickers in one hand. She laughs and lets them go, and starts to clean herself up while he lovingly does up the damn shoes.
"Well, that's what I call ending the year right," she says eventually.
"Yeah? It wasn't –"
She shakes her head, still a little embarrassed, but not ashamed, not with him. "I think it must've just been a physical reaction, like all the other…. Felt kind of good to let it go, actually, though I can't say I want it to happen that way every time from now on."
He nods thoughtfully. "Hey, who knows, maybe I'll be the one to start crying next time."
"We've only got, what, an hour till we find out?" Freya tries looking at her watch, but she can't read it in the half-light.
"Less than that, I think."
"Do you want to go back out there?"
"If you feel up to it, or we could stay here for a while longer if you want."
So they sit on the top of the stairs for a few minutes, side by side with his arm around her shoulders, and talk about embarrassing public crying moments, which leads to talk of other embarrassing memories, and Freya learns quite a few things about Merlin's childhood that she hadn't known before. At one point they hear people talking in the kitchen and they just go quiet, waiting together in the calm dark. When they start hearing people count down they crawl back outside and join the party. Freya's naked under the dress, her knickers tucked in Merlin's pocket. When they kiss on the stroke of midnight she can still taste a faint trace of what they've done, and it's better than champagne.
They're out the door by 12:05.
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"Yes, my lady," says Merlin, who used to be a perfect gentleman, really. < - this is one of my favorite things about it; the way they're learning how they want to be together.
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