Summary: Arthur knew Merlin had guts, but he didn't think Merlin *that* much guts. After-hours at Camp Camelot.
Spoilers and/or Warnings: (if applicable) No spoilers, but PWP, Pure smut.
Title: Camp Camelot
URL: Camp Camelot
Camp Camelot sometimes lived up to its name.
And sometimes it didn't.
All summer, Arthur had been waiting for someone to make a move: Gwen, Merlin, Gwen and Merlin. He knew their eyes followed him around. He knew he'd been giving them the same looks all summer, just as Morgana had been. He'd like to claim that this had been the plan all along.
In fact, he might just let them think it was.
So, the night after That Night, he pulled out the deck of cards as usual, expecting a blush and an averted look and maybe a squirm.
He didn't expect Merlin to stand up, gawkish and gracefully knocking over a chair, stumbling over his own tongue.
"Um..." Merlin's eyes darted back and forth like fish: Gwen to Arthur, Arthur to Morgana, and back again. Even more surprising, Gwen actually nodded, as if she were encouraging Merlin.
"Gwen and me are going to have an orgy."
Arthur definitely perked up at that -- in every way.
"Or, at least, we're having an orgy if you guys want to join in."
Arthur's mouth went dry. Nobody made Arthur's mouth go dry, not while making his cock twitch at the same time. Maybe Merlin cast some sort of spell on him.
If they wanted to join in? He didn't even have to look at Morgana to guess the answer to that.
"Otherwise we'll just be having sex, I guess."
Arthur snuck a peek at Morgana, just to be sure. It was so quiet, crickets could've dropped a pin. Arthur tried not to fidget in his chair, still clutching the deck of cards. The crowned prince of Camp Camelot didn't squirm, not like Merlin did.
If someone sucked his cock, though, while Merlin took him...
Arthur would admit to squirming at that thought.
He peeked at Morgana, who arched one of those eyebrows at him. Picture of nonchalance, she was.
"Okay," says Morgana.
"Yeah, I'm in," says Arthur.
"Really?" Merlin's voice squeaked. Arthur couldn't help smirking at that. Or swaggering as he walked toward Merlin, giving Merlin his best 'let me fuck you' grin.
"Really." Arms around Merlin, dip, and mouth open for a long kiss.
He thought he heard Gwen squeak. He knew it wasn't Morgana. Morgana would never stoop so low as to squeak. A moan, though...
Arthur tightened one arm around Merlin's neck, drawing Merlin closer, slipping his other hand down Merlin's shorts. Damned if the boy wasn't commando, Merlin's cock just as long and lean and hard as it had been That Night, when Arthur sucked Merlin down like a lollipop.
He righted Merlin, freeing Merlin's cock from those ugly camp shorts. Arms came around Arthur's middle from behind, creamy brown ones that he recognized as Gwen.
"I can help," she said. "Not that you need help. But I thought..." Looking over his shoulder, he noticed her blush, and how her eyes dropped to the ground.
One hand still on Merlin's cock, Arthur leaned back slightly, drawing Merlin with him and kissing Gwen gently. The fucking could wait for a little while. This, though...
Merlin tasted of orange Tic-tacs. Gwen tasted of mint. Together, going from one mouth to another, they were a heady combination.
"Didn't your father ever teach to share, Arthur?" Morgana chided. Morgana was good at that. Then again, Morgana was good at a lot of things, including strip poker and bluffing.
She wrapped her arms around Merlin so that two dark heads and two sets of blue eyes were looking at Arthur expectantly.
"I think we have a problem here," Arthur tried to say in his most serious voice. "A very grave problem?"
"Really?" Gwen's dark eyes widened. "Because Merlin and I talked and we thought--"
Arthur put a gentle finger to her mouth. "No, Guinevere. It's not you or Merlin. It's the fact that we're all still clothed."
It wasn't long before a pile of camp shorts and T-shirts littered the floor in the staff lodge. Arthur was glad that both his father and Gaius had the night off. Maybe Arthur wouldn't get sacked, if either walked in on the four of them, but Arthur couldn't say the same for the others. Well, maybe Morgana, since Morgana would find a way to blame it on him. She always did. Merlin and Gwen, though... that would be a crime, really, especially since it had taken them half the summer to get this far.
One capable brown hand stroked his cock, surprisingly confident in itself. Not surprising, when he considered Gwen. He ran his fingers through her curly hair, pulling her close for a kiss. He could feel Merlin's long, thin fingers teasing at his crease, then trailing something cool and slick down his arse. Morgana's mouth found his, kissing and nipping and biting, just as they'd played all summer. Just as he hoped they'd play, until camp itself was done. Arms and legs and bodies intertwined until he couldn't tell which was his, and who belonged to whom. Merlin's cock entered him, agonizing and slow burn as Morgana's warm depths sank down onto Arthur's own cock. Gwen's mouth was at Morgana's breast now, one of those talented hands teasing at Morgana's clit. It was too much, too much sweat and sweetness and heat and buildup, the friction and the burn until Arthur felt himself sinking into the depths of orgasm, his whole body humming.
Someone cried out, though he couldn't tell who. One body after another arched and shuddered, and then stilled. They lay on the floor of the staff lodge, on that ridiculous bear skin rug his father bought somewhere, tangled up like puppies -- or first year campers -- in a heap.
Fingers entwined with his, warm mouths, skin salty with sweat and sticky besides.
"If we stay like this, we'll be stuck together in the morning," Merlin's voice drowsed in Arthur's ear, fingers splayed across Arthur's belly.
Arthur's limp cock twitched slightly, remembering those fingers wrapped around Arthur's dick at some point. Or, if they hadn't been, it was definitely an angle to explore later.
"Don't think Father would appreciate finding us like this," Arthur muttered, burying his face in the mingled strands of Gwen's and Morgana's dark hair. He tried, for a minute, to imagine choosing between them -- not just the two of them, but the three; all dark beauty, all danger and strength and fire. All damned fucking good sex.
"I think your father should mention this in the brochures." Morgana almost succeeded at nonchalant, but he could hear the breathlessness in her voice, even now. Breaking Morgana's cool reserve -- that alone was well worth this night.
Arthur snorted. "No one could ever accuse camp counselor of being a boring job again."
Nights at Camp Camelot definitely weren't going to be as quiet as they used to be.