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Merlin stared in horror at his mobile messages. Swift, all-consuming nausea competed with terror as he scrolled backwards in the conversation and confirmed his second-too-late realization.
It couldn’t be.
It was.
He couldn’t have.
He had.
He hated his thumb. His stupid thumb, always doing things it shouldn’t, like press the send button before his eyes had caught up with his brain. Somewhere out there in London—probably at lunch, because the prat was nothing if not punctual—Arthur Pendragon had just received a text message that pretty much meant Merlin would have to pack up his things and move to another country. Maybe France, or better yet, Thailand. An island in the middle of the Pacific with no 4G.
He’d accidentally sent Arthur his dick pic.
Merlin wasn’t ashamed of his dick. It was quite nice, actually, and the photograph in question highlighted its best attributes. Being a novice dick-piccer, he’d followed the best practice protocol as outlined by a snarky American bird’s Tumblr account. He’d included his hand in the shot, holding his cock at the base to give it a nice curve away from his body; he’d made sure the lighting in the loo was soft enough to make his dick look a bit artsy; he’d even trimmed his pubes—but not too much.
It was just Merlin’s luck that the first time he attempted to seduce someone via selfie he would muck it up and send it to the wrong recipient: Arthur-bloody-Pendragon, his best mate, and the object of his ill-advised lust since uni days.
He should never have listened to Gwaine. How many times had he told himself this same thing, and yet he never seemed to learn. It’s been ages since you’ve gotten off, mate, why not do a bit of online dating. And so Merlin had thrown caution to the wind and started chatting with a bloke name Archie and—well, the rest was history. Or infamy.
Why hadn’t Arthur responded yet?
Sweating now, Merlin paced the length of his flat and chewed his bottom lip. There were only a few viable options to consider, really. The best thing to do would be to approach this rationally. Calmly.
Option one: Pretend the cock in question was not his own. Perhaps he had simply shared a random dick pic from the Internet as a bit of a laugh. Make Arthur sweat during one of his interminable meetings. Brilliant!
He scrolled down to the pic again, and his stomach plummeted. There, nestled right at the juncture of hip and pelvis, was the tiny black dragon tattoo he’d once gotten on a lark (alcohol was involved). When Arthur had seen it one day in the gym shower, he’d never let Merlin live it down. You got that tattoo for me, didn’t you, Merlin, he’d joked. You love me, don’t you, Merlin. Arthur had been dating Gwen at the time. It had been years ago, and yet Arthur still mentioned it whenever talk of tattoos arose.
Option two: Tell the truth. Which would mean having to explain (a) he had listened to Gwaine, again, and (b) he was looking for anonymous sex on the Internet. Arthur would probably understand, but maybe he would be disgusted. Or worse, he would pity Merlin.
Option three: Start packing.
That was it. Three bloody useless options, and yet Arthur still hadn’t responded to the original text.
Oh god oh god oh god. Merlin considered calling Gwaine, but he probably wasn’t even awake yet.
His mobile vibrated.
Arthur: Wow.
Wow? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Merlin stared at the screen. The whole experience had left him exhausted, weak with adrenaline and spent nerves, and he couldn’t for the life of him think of what to say. Maybe best go with the joking approach.
Merlin: LOL, oops?
Seconds passed, each one of them interminable. Merlin could see Arthur was writing something from the tiny ellipses taunting him. Paused. Writing. Paused. Merlin’s stomach curdled.
Arthur: Is this some kind of joke?
Merlin: Would you believe me if I said yes? And would you delete it and pretend like this never happened? Please?
Arthur: Not on your life. So . . . I assume this wasn’t meant for me?
Merlin froze. He hated how impossible it was to discern tone in text messages. If he let his mind run wild, those three dots seemed to indicate . . . disappointment. But that couldn’t be right at all. He was clearly delusional. Punctuation was such a pain in the arse.
Merlin: It’s a long story
Arthur: I’ll say
Merlin read the words over and over. The sickness in his gut began to uncoil and give way to a pleasanter feeling. He couldn’t quite tell if Arthur was flirting. They’d always had a bantering sort of relationship, but it had never crossed the line, no matter how much Merlin might have wanted it to. He had a strict no-straight-bloke policy (although Arthur once, when high as a kite, had confessed to ‘this one time’ at public school with an older boy named Leon).
As far as Merlin knew, Arthur only dated women. His response to the picture had gone better than Merlin could ever have imagined, so he should probably quit while he was ahead. One day they’d be able to laugh about this—preferably in private. Still, his rebellious thumbs itched to push back. He breathed out a here-goes-nothing sigh.
Merlin: Oh, you liking it, then?
Nothing. The silence made Merlin want to bury his head under a sofa pillow and scream his own name to drown out his humiliation, like he’d done as a child. Instead, he glared dolefully at the vacant screen until, another excruciating minute later, Arthur texted back.
Arthur: It’s very . . . Merlin, have you been taking photography lessons? The shadows are quite striking. So, who was it for?
Merlin: Some bloke I met on Adam for Steve. It was Gwaine’s idea!!!!! Come to think of it, Merlin had completely forgotten about Archie; he was too distracted by Arthur’s careful use of ellipses.
Arthur: Ah, I see. Well, he better be worth it.
Merlin’s pulse quickened; he was going to have a heart attack by the age of thirty, and it would be Arthur’s fault entirely. He only hoped his friends would have the decency to delete the dick pic and any other incriminating evidence before his mother found it and realised her son was a pervert.
Merlin: I’m not sure it was such a good idea. I’m not really a dick pic kind of guy.
Arthur: It seems to me you’re well cut out for it. Or not, rather.
Merlin chuckled to himself and stretched his legs out on the sofa.
Merlin: Did you just make a pun about my foreskin?
Arthur: Maybe ;)
Merlin’s mouth dropped open. He was certain he’d never seen Arthur use an emoticon before, and now a winky face? Maybe a seventeen-year-old had stolen Arthur’s phone. But only Arthur would be nerdy enough to make such a horrid pun.
Merlin: You’re an idiot. Aren’t you supposed to be working?
Arthur: I WAS working until I received quite a revealing photo. Aren’t you supposed to be writing?
Merlin: I WAS until someone started making puns about my dick. Seems rather unfair to have no point of comparison :p
As soon as he pressed send, Merlin winced. He’d been lulled into a false sense of complacency by the banter and now had committed the ultimate best-mate faux pas. Predictably, Arthur’s follow-up text changed the subject.
Arthur: So, Adam for Steve, what’s that like?
Merlin: Dunno. It’s all right. I’ve only been chatting with a couple people, seem like nice blokes.
Arthur: Are you going to send them the pic?
The part of Merlin’s brain that desperately wanted to interpret Arthur’s question as jealousy fired off the next message.
Merlin: Why shouldn’t I?
This time, when Arthur didn’t reply right away, Merlin knew he’d gone too far. He sent Arthur a follow-up ‘gotta go talk to you later’ and threw his phone down on the coffee table. For the rest of the afternoon, he moped around his flat being unproductive. The article he was working on wasn’t due for another week, so he felt justified in watching a five-hour long marathon of Shameless and then getting takeaway for dinner. He would not let himself think about Arthur, or what Arthur thought of the conversation. Of his dick. Every time he remembered and replayed it in his mind, he reconsidered the move to Thailand. Archie eventually messaged to ask if he wanted to meet, but the fun of the flirting had worn off. Instead, Merlin drank a tumbler of whisky, told himself things would look better in the morning, and went to bed.
He blinked awake at what felt like the middle of the night to the sound of his phone buzzing.
He reached blearily for the thing, wishing whoever it was a painful death for disturbing his dreamless sleep. He squinted at the name of the sender, and then at the image.
It couldn’t be.
It was.
Adrenaline surged through his body, and he came fully awake.
The picture was lovely, erotic, even better than Merlin’s own. Arthur had obviously put some time into the composition, or maybe he simply had an eye for the genre. Unlike Merlin’s pic, which he had snapped from the side while standing naked, Arthur was lying down on his bed, as though waiting for a lover. He’d unbuttoned his crisp work shirt to reveal the broad expanse of his chest and the light smattering of hair that gave way to the softer divots of his belly. His signature red tie, undone, casually covered one nipple and led the eye down a teasing journey to the real attention grabber.
Which he was grabbing.
Arthur held his erection, which sprung from his unbuttoned trouser fly, as though he’d been caught wanking. It was flushed a deep red, too, which added to his suspicion Arthur’d been having a go of it before taking the picture. Merlin’s mouth watered, and his own cock sprung to immediate attention. Of course Arthur would look utterly edible and perfect with his cock out. Of course.
Merlin was physically angry at the picture. He wanted to yell at it. How dare Arthur send him such a taunting image, a tangible representation of all the things he could never have?
Then he realised: Arthur sent me a dick pic.
His mobile buzzed again.
Arthur: From the lack of response, my ego is assuming you’re asleep. Please advise.
Merlin: Not asleep. Um. Wow.
Arthur: Is that a good wow or a bad wow?
Merlin: It’s a surprised wow. It’s an I-was-not-expecting-that wow.
Arthur: It’s too debauched businessman, isn’t it? I knew it.
Merlin scrolled back to the picture. Even though it had been staged, there was something vulnerable about it, and not just because Arthur was half naked. It was such a secretive, personal view. This was how Arthur saw himself, how his lover might see him after a hard day’s work, how Merlin wanted to see him. His own cock throbbed, and he squeezed himself for a little relief. He would never live it down if Arthur ever discovered Merlin had wanked while they were texting.
Or sexting. Maybe they were sexting. Oh god.
Oh good?
Merlin: I’m a fan of debauched businessman.
He pressed send and closed his eyes, hands sweating.
Arthur: Are you? I never thought you went for that type.
Merlin: I make exceptions for special cases.
He could hardly believe he’d sent the message. No response came for a minute, and he waited it out by counting the beats of his heart.
Still nothing.
Merlin: Why did you send me this picture, Arthur?
Arthur: Because.
Merlin: That’s not a proper answer.
Arthur: I wanted to know how I measure up, I suppose.
Merlin: Har.
Arthur: I meant to the others . . . those men you sent your picture.
This time, those ellipses meant business. This time Merlin didn’t doubt Arthur was jealous, but he had no idea what kind of jealousy it was. Looking the way he did, he couldn’t possibly worry the men on Adam for Steve had anything on him.
Merlin: I never sent it.
Merlin: And anyway, your dick pic is a thousand times nicer than any I’ve seen.
Arthur: Really?
Merlin: Yes, really. And don’t play innocent! You know the effect it’s had on me, you bastard.
Maybe the impersonality of the medium made the words easier. Or maybe it was his dick talking. Merlin didn’t know, but suddenly he didn’t care.
Arthur: I had quite a similar experience myself today. Do you know how difficult it is to lead a board meeting with a sodding erection?
Merlin: Don’t take the piss. Are you drunk?
Arthur: I’m completely serious. You have a gorgeous cock. I’ve been staring at it all day.
A rush of excitement tingled through Merlin’s whole body; he squeezed his dick again through his soft pyjama bottoms.
Merlin: Are we seriously having this conversation?
Arthur: We don’t have to.
Merlin: What if I want to?
Arthur: I was hoping you’d say that. Are you hard right now?
Merlin laughed nervously. He could imagine the words in Arthur’s posh voice, but reading them was unaccountably dirty. If it were anyone else, maybe it would have been ridiculous, but arousal won over sarcasm.
Merlin: Um. Yeah. You?
Arthur: I’m looking at your picture, aren’t I?
Merlin: I’m looking at yours.
Still holding his phone, he pushed down his bottoms to his knees and gripped the base of his shaft in one hand, then gave it a slow pump. He’d been hard since the first glimpse of Arthur, so the tip of his dick was slick with wetness. He sighed and straightened his legs, thighs tensing.
Arthur: Are you wanking?
Merlin: That’s a stupid question, mate.
Arthur: Just wanted to hear you say it. Or see it. Whatever. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I feel like a bloody teenager looking at your beautiful dick.
It was a bit strange, knowing Arthur was touching himself, too, on the other side of town in Southwark, while Merlin was in his tiny Shoreditch flat. Just far enough away from each other that suggesting a meeting would be impractical so late at night. Probably it was for the best. Arthur was more than likely drunk, anyway, though he hadn’t admitted it, but the whole situation was so surreal it couldn’t possibly mean anything. Things would inevitably get weird, or maybe they’d laugh it off, but Merlin was under no illusions about what this was. This was getting off, and it was good enough for him. He could worry about the rest tomorrow.
Arthur: I wish I could see u
Merlin: Yeah this isn’t very practical given the circumference
Merlin: CIRCUMSTANCE damn autocorrect
Arthur: LOL equally appropriate
Merlin: Don’t make me laugh trying to concentrate here
Arthur: How do u feel about facetime?
The exchange had taken away Merlin’s momentum, and his cock ached for attention. In for a penny, in for a pound, he supposed, chuckling.
Merlin: Call me?
His mobile rang moments later, and he accepted the call. It was dark on Arthur’s side of the line, but he could vaguely make out the shape of his friend’s body; then the light went on, and Arthur’s face appeared, sleepy and aroused. His hair was a mess, and he was shirtless. Merlin smiled self-consciously, still holding his cock.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
“Did this just get weird?”
“Maybe a little weird. I still want to, though.”
“Okay. Well maybe we should look at cocks instead of faces? And then it will be less weird.”
Arthur nodded. “Good plan.”
“You first.”
Abruptly, the visual changed. Merlin was presented with a front row seat to Arthur’s erection. He fisted it slowly, deliberately. Merlin stared, mesmerized at the up and down motion of Arthur’s hand, the way Arthur’s hips seemed to tilt upwards with every stroke. His hand slid up and down his dick, touching every inch.
“Merlin?” Arthur said, his voice hoarse.
“Right, right.”
Merlin obliged and turned his camera round. He hadn’t ever performed for anyone like this before, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do—whether to be natural or add a little finesse. He didn’t know what Arthur would like. In experiment, he dragged his hand between his legs and tugged at his sack, and a small gasp from the mobile speaker seemed to indicate approval. He slid his hand up again and cupped the head of his cock, then used some of the wetness to lube the shaft.
“Yeah, like that,” Arthur said. “Show me what you like.”
For a while it continued being strange, and then Merlin stopped focusing on what he was doing and let himself drift. He imagined they were together in the same room and Arthur’s arm was jostling against him. Arthur tugged on his cock at a slow pace, hand moving up and around the head, then back down again in a perfect, practiced motion. Once in a while Arthur let out a quiet moan or a sigh. The sounds Arthur made, the little hitches of his breath, were even more erotic than the visual of his cock. He wasn’t wanking just to get off, which was what Merlin had been expecting—then again, he hadn’t expected anything about this crazy night, so he supposed he should stop thinking altogether.
When he started to get close, thighs tensing, belly tightening, he wondered if he should wait for Arthur, but then everything seemed to peak together. Arthur let out a long, drawn-out moan and his hips bucked. He started to come, shooting far enough for Merlin to be impressed, and stroked himself through it. Merlin closed his eyes and tilted his head back as the most intense orgasm he’d had in ages whited out his brain.
“Merlin? Merlin?” As he came back to himself, Arthur sounded very far away and somewhat concerned. Merlin had dropped his mobile over the side of the bed.
He scooped the phone up as post-orgasm panic swept through his body. Arthur stared back at him from the screen with a sheepish smile.
“Uh, hi,” Merlin said, hyper-aware of the jizz cooling on his belly. He reached surreptitiously for a tissue.
“Hi. Thought I lost you for a moment there, mate.”
“Uh, no.”
“Well, that was different.”
Different? Not exactly stunning praise. Merlin wracked his brain for something to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a total nob. He couldn’t let Arthur see how much this had affected him, how much he wanted it to happen again—preferably in person. Certain those emotions were written all over his face, he realised he had to get off the phone as quickly as possible. Stupid bloody FaceTime.
“Yeah, mate, I’m knackered.”
Arthur’s smile became a frown. “Well, you best get some sleep then. Sorry I woke you.”
“No worries. It’s been a pleasure. Ha. Literally.”
“Ha ha.”
After they’d hung up, Merlin buried his head under his blankets to hide from the wave of remorse threatening to drown him. His friendship with Arthur would never be the same. They weren’t teenagers anymore, wanking in their parents’ basement for a laugh; this was a disaster of epic, intentional proportions. The memory of Arthur’s perfect cock would haunt him for the rest of his life. He just knew it.
That’s what Merlin told Gwaine the next day.
“Ah, come off it, mate. It can’t have been all that brilliant.”
Merlin sighed. “But it was, it bloody well was. It’s ruined me for all other cocks.” And Arthur had ruined him for all other men, not like that was news.
“You’ve got to send me the picture.”
“I’m not sending you the picture.” Merlin huffed to himself at the audacity. He swung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his keys from the dish by the door; if he didn’t head out to the coffee shop to get some work done, he’d never accomplish anything.
Gwaine tutted through the phone. “Sharing is caring.”
“I’m not sharing this.”
“What about yours?”
“Gwaine, no!”
“All right then, so you had a bit of a wank and things got weird. Happens to us all, mate. The next time you see him, pretend it never happened. Problem solved.”
Merlin took the stairs quickly and pushed open the front door to his building. People bustled by on their way to work or school, and Merlin fell in step behind a group of obvious American tourists. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Maybe the two of us should have an awkward online wank or something to take your mind off it, then?”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Well, you asked for my advice.”
“Which is utter shit, by the way.”
“Cheers.”
“Unfortunately, it’s all I’ve got.”
***
Back at his flat, he made a quick dinner and forced himself to eat, then distracted himself with telly. He’d begun to nod off when the doorbell buzzed.
“Hiya,” said the voice over the intercom. “It’s me.”
Merlin’s stomach plummeted. “Come on up.”
When Merlin unlatched the door, Arthur stood there hesitantly, taking up nearly the whole frame with his square shoulders. He smiled tightly. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah.” Merlin stepped to the side and tried not to inhale the scent of Arthur as he brushed past, but failed miserably. “You want some tea?”
Arthur nodded. “Sure.”
Merlin turned on the kettle and ferreted around his kitchenette for some biscuits, hyper-aware all the while of Arthur’s presence at his back. So, this was it, then, probably the end of their friendship. He tried to tell himself the painful ache in his chest was merely heartburn from his too-spicy dinner.
Once they each had a steaming cup, Merlin leaned back against the counter and finally allowed himself a more careful look. Arthur wore Merlin’s favorite grey suit, and worse, the very tie that had featured so prominently the night before. It was loosened, the top couple shirt buttons unbuttoned, giving Merlin a tantalizing view of golden skin. He wished he could go back in time and stop himself from sending that bloody picture.
“We need to talk about what happened last night,” Arthur said. He set his tea down on the kitchen table without taking a sip.
“Do we really?”
“You know we do.”
Had Arthur’s eyes always been so ruddy blue? Merlin slurped his tea and burned the hell out of his tongue. “Okay. Though if you want to just pretend the whole thing never happened, I’m totally fine with that.”
“You talked to Gwaine, didn’t you?”
“I never learn.”
Arthur stepped forward and grasped Merlin’s forearm with one hand, then took his cup away with the other. It settled with a clack on the counter. His lips were very close, and his hand was very warm. Merlin felt like a hare frozen under the gaze of a hunter.
“What I have to say might ruin our friendship,” Arthur’s thumb moved gently on Merlin’s wrist. “But I have to take the chance.”
“Um,” said Merlin.
“I’m in love with you, Merlin.”
“What?” The shock in Merlin’s voice must have startled Arthur, whose blue eyes widened. When Merlin didn’t say anything else, he continued.
“I’ve felt like this for a long time, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know if you would feel the same way, and I valued our friendship too much to muck it up. But after last night, I figured I didn’t have much more to lose, you know?” A rueful smile softened his face. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I . . . I thought you liked girls.” Merlin’s heart thudded against his chest like a battering ram.
“I do. But I like men, too. I love you. I’ve loved you from the day you got that ridiculous tattoo.”
“Oh.” The breathless quality in Merlin’s voice might have embarrassed him had Arthur not been standing so near. His eyes flicked down to Merlin’s mouth.
“Is that all you have to say?”
Merlin licked his lips nervously. “I’m sorry, I never expected to hear those words from you. Is this a dream?”
Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist and drew their bodies together. Oh god, Merlin felt the heat and length of Arthur’s cock through his trousers, pushing against his own.
“Does it feel like a dream?”
“No, it feels real. I’m in love with you too, you know.”
Arthur grinned, the relief on his face making him look years younger. “Can I kiss you?”
Merlin didn’t answer; he closed the distance between their mouths, instead. Arthur opened to him greedily, easily. Their tongues slid together like they were made to do it. It was a wet, hungry kiss, not at all gentle. Soon, Merlin found himself pushed up against the kitchen counter, his face held in Arthur’s hands as his mouth was ravaged. He gripped Arthur hard and ground their bodies together, years of frustrated longing manifest in the desperation of the movement. When he felt Arthur’s hand on the front of his jeans, fumbling with the fly, he almost passed out.
“I’ve got to get my mouth on you,” Arthur whispered.
Merlin whimpered.
With much more dexterity than Merlin expected, Arthur managed to get Merlin’s cock out with one hand. He broke the kiss to look down at it. With a groan, he sank to his knees.
Watching Arthur stare at his cock with wonder and lust in his eyes was pretty much the most erotic thing Merlin had ever seen. His dick seemed to think so, too. It pulsed without even being touched. Merlin fingered Arthur’s tie and, without thinking, tugged him forward.
Arthur’s wet lips opened, and his tongue slid out and around the head. Merlin moaned, knowing the sight would do him in before long. He couldn’t look away. His mind still spun with the words they had said to each other. Could Arthur have really loved him for so long, for nearly as long as he had loved Arthur? How ironic they had been circling around each other for years, caught in the net of love and yet unable to connect until a seemingly random act had finally drawn them together. Bless Gwaine and Merlin’s stupid thumbs.
He brushed the blond fringe back from Arthur’s forehead, and Arthur smiled up with his full lips stretched obscenely.
Arthur sucked his cock with gusto, taking it down so far Merlin was sure he would choke. He hit the back of Arthur’s throat. Still, Arthur was relentless. Tears formed in the corner of Arthur’s eyes and gleamed on his lashes, and even so he did it again, and again. He held Merlin like a sweet he wanted to devour but feared would be taken away. It was strangely tender. Merlin wanted to ask Arthur to move to the bed, but he was rapidly reaching the point of no return. After a quick grunted warning, his orgasm crested with a blinding pleasure that rocked him from the tips of his toes to his scalp. He shuddered and clung to Arthur’s shoulders, his entire body tingling as Arthur gave him a few last gentle sucks and then released his spent cock.
When Arthur rose to his feet, he kissed Merlin again, and Merlin could taste himself in Arthur’s mouth. Arthur’s erection prodded his thigh.
“God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Arthur said, drawing away from Merlin’s mouth to nip at his ear.
“I can see that. Um. Wow.”
“Is that a good wow or a bad wow?”
Merlin laughed, and the last of the tension in his body released. “It was an unexpected wow. But a good wow. The best sort of wow.”
Arthur grinned. He took Merlin’s hand and laced their fingers together. “That’s the sort of wow I can live with.”
The End