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Arthur leaned back in his throne, his legs splayed out in front of him. He was grateful that Merlin had at least locked the door before they began. He wouldn’t have wanted his court to see them like this, because this was private, theirs alone.

Stretched out towards the place where Merlin knelt, Arthur’s legs and feet were bare. In fact, all of him was laid bare, save for what little was covered by the worn leather of his old, full-length brown coat. Merlin had produced it reverently and settled it on Arthur’s shoulders after divesting him of all his other, more kingly, trappings.

“I didn’t know you’d kept this,” Arthur had murmured as Merlin smoothed his hands over it, moulding it to his body.

Merlin had smiled then. “I have fond memories of this coat. Of course I kept it.”

Arthur hadn’t asked what Merlin remembered. He had plenty of good memories of his own.

Now, the leather felt oddly slick against his skin, but at least it had warmed from the heat of his body. Arthur suspected that his anticipation had made him sweat a little. Although he felt somewhat vulnerable too, sitting here so exposed while Merlin remained fully dressed. Surreptitiously, Arthur twitched the front of the coat across his lap, hiding his rising cock. The movement must have caught Merlin’s eye, though, because he glanced up. His gaze locked with Arthur’s and the illusion of submission suggested by his pose was shattered. Merlin might be the one on his knees, but the heated look he sent Arthur’s way clearly reminded him that Merlin bowed to no man unless he wished to.

“Really, Arthur?” Merlin said, his voice rich with amusement.

“It may have escaped your notice, Merlin,” Arthur said with as much dignity as he could muster. “But I’m currently sitting here on my throne all but naked.”

Merlin smirked. “No, I can honestly say that I’m entirely aware of that fact.”

Arthur shook his head, exasperated. “You’ve lost none of your insolence in all the years you’ve served me, I see.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” Merlin retorted.

“True,” Arthur said, and reached out his hand. “But let’s see if I’ve managed to teach you anything in that time. How’s your knee-walking these days, Merlin?”

Merlin ducked his head, but not before Arthur caught a glimpse of his fond smile.

“Passable, I suppose,” he said.

“Good,” Arthur replied. “Show me, then, come here and bow before your king.”

There was a brief pause, but then Merlin unfolded his long limbs and shuffled across the space between them on his knees. Arthur could see the smudges of dust it left on his breeches. He spread his legs further apart and Merlin took it as the invitation it was intended to be. He crawled closer, until his arms brushed against the sensitive skin of Arthur’s thighs. Only then did he settle back onto his heels.

“How did I do?” Merlin asked once he was ensconced in the space Arthur had made for him.

In response, Arthur reached over the arm of his throne and plucked his crown from where it rested on top of his neatly folded clothes. Merlin regarded him with curiosity until he leaned forward and set the circlet carefully onto Merlin’s dark hair. He reared back then, startled.

“Arthur?” he said, visibly uncertain.

“I declare you king of knee-walkers,” Arthur said, keeping his tone deliberately light.

He tried not to notice how right the crown looked on Merlin’s head. That was a direction he ought not to let his thoughts travel in. While he could keep Merlin at his side, it would never be as his equal. At least, not in public, but here in private Arthur saw no reason not to acknowledge Merlin as he saw fit.

“Please, don’t…” Merlin said, his voice shaking slightly. He reached up to remove the circlet.

“No,” Arthur insisted, catching hold of his wrist. “For now, at least, I want you to leave it on. In case you’ve forgotten, I am your king. Let us at least pretend that means you’ll do as you’re bidden. Besides, it sits well on you.”

A faint blush coloured Merlin’s cheeks. “You want me to suck you while I wear your crown?”

“Merlin, you were the one who wanted to do this here in the throne room,” Arthur said. “Surely you can allow me this indulgence.”

“So, what, I’m king of the cock suckers too?” Merlin said glibly.

Arthur huffed a half-hearted laugh. “You need no crown to prove that to me, but no. Please, just…” He sighed, shifting his hand so that he could take hold of Merlin’s chin, tilting his head until he could look him squarely in the eye. “You know I cannot officially take you as my consort, Merlin, regardless of my wishes. Even so, can you allow me the fantasy, just for a while?”

Merlin’s gaze softened. He curved his hands around Arthur’s ankles and then drew them slowly up his bare legs in a slow tease. He only stopped when his palms rested high on Arthur’s thighs, thumbs edging inward towards his balls. “Consort… I think I like the sound of that.”

Before Arthur could reply, Merlin’s hands brushed aside the leather coat and bared his cock. He was fully hard now, had been since Merlin crawled within touching distance. Merlin made a small sound of appreciation, but wasted no time before going down on him. His soft lips slid wetly along Arthur’s shaft, making him gasp with the suddenness of it and causing his muscles to jump at the sensation. Merlin’s hands pressed down insistently, though, holding him still as the heat of his mouth closed around Arthur. Denied the opportunity to move, Arthur tangled his fingers in the back of Merlin’s hair and urged his head lower, needing to bury himself more deeply. He could feel the cool metal of the crown against his fingertips and it made him shiver.

Rising up onto his knees, Merlin braced himself on Arthur’s thighs as he bent over his lap. The altered angle allowed him to swallow Arthur all the way down. His grip on Merlin tightened instinctively as he felt the head of his cock slide deep into his throat. Arthur still wanted to thrust, to let his hips jerk away from the throne and fuck Merlin’s mouth, but his eyes lit on the gleam of gold against his hair and he held his place. Merlin was king here and he deferred to him, let him control the way they moved together.

Merlin’s tongue lapped at him for a moment as he pulled back to draw breath and the sudden loss of all that wet heat around him wrung a sharp moan from Arthur. Just for a second Merlin met his eyes and there was so much desire in his gaze that Arthur almost forgot to breathe himself. Then Merlin went down on him again and this time he couldn’t keep from shouting out his pleasure, repeating Merlin’s name over and over like a prayer.

One of Merlin’s hands found its way to his balls, rolling them gently between his fingers for a few moments, then inched further back. Arthur slid a little lower in his seat, opening himself up, and Merlin gave a hum of approval. His fingers pressed and teased at Arthur’s hole, a promise of how much more Merlin could give to him. Merlin had barely eased the very tip of his finger inside when Arthur gave a startled cry and came hard. Merlin sucked him through it, pulling away just enough to avoid being choked when Arthur’s hips thrust upward wildly. Only when the touch of his mouth became too much to take did Arthur push at Merlin’s shoulder, urging him to release his spent cock. A slow trickle of come leaked from the corner of his mouth as Merlin complied.

Arthur slumped down into his throne, feeling his heart race in his chest. He panted, unable to speak yet, and watched Merlin out of heavy-lidded eyes. Merlin sank back onto his heels, looking thoroughly debauched with Arthur’s come smeared across his chin. He still wore the crown, but Arthur’s fingers had knocked it askew when he came. Somehow it still looked right, gleaming dully on Merlin’s head.

“Did I earn my title?” Merlin asked, licking his reddened lips.

“I told you, you never needed to earn it,” Arthur said finally as his breathing evened out. He extended his hand. “Come here, let me take care of you. You most certainly deserve it after that.”

Merlin grimaced, glancing down at his lap. “No need for that, I fear.”

Arthur followed his gaze and couldn’t restrain a pleased smile when he saw the dark stain on the front of Merlin’s breeches. “You enjoy sucking me that much?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t already know it,” Merlin said, blushing again. “At least you won’t have to walk out of here in wet clothes.”

Arthur slid forward until he could take Merlin’s face between his hands. He cupped his cheeks gently, letting his thumbs trace over the sharp cheekbones, and then leaned in to kiss him deeply. Merlin made a desperate, hungry sound low in his throat as he kissed back fiercely. Arthur worked his tongue into Merlin’s mouth and licked away the traces of his own come. When all that was left was the taste of Merlin himself he pulled away, nipping at his lower lip as he did so. Merlin tried to follow him, seeking more, but Arthur held him off.

Lazily, he plucked the crown from Merlin’s head. He held it between his fingers for a moment before dropping it back onto his piled clothes. Then Arthur stood, looming over Merlin’s kneeling figure as he rose. He shrugged out of the long, leather coat, now thoroughly warmed by his body. He let it fall into Merlin’s lap, covering the stained fabric. The throne room was cool, but Arthur no longer felt awkward in his nakedness.

“Here,” he said. “Take this.”

Merlin frowned. “Why?”

“For one, it will hide the fact that you just came in your breeches like a callow youth,” Arthur said dryly. “Also, you may not be able to wear a crown in public, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still wear something of mine.”

Arthur bent to press another kiss to Merlin’s lips and felt them curve against his in a smile.