All Else Fades
I had so much trouble trying to think of where I was going to post this. I originally wrote it as fanfiction that didn’t have to be read as fanfiction, because there aren’t any names mentioned. So, I’m posting this under both Fanfiction and Orginal Fiction, with the intended pairing in the tags.
I should also say that I basically wrote this as practice for writing snogging. So… be warned.
Disclaimer: Don’t own Merlin (unless you read it as original fiction, in which case it doesn’t matter)
You weren’t expecting it to be like this. You were expecting passion: for a rough, almost bruising experience that would leave you so breathless you wouldn’t be able to handle it.
You weren’t expecting for it to be soft, for a hand to reach around to the back of your head, and fingers to play with the little hairs on the back of your neck, and the mere pressure of skin on skin to be more passionate than any open-mouthed gagging could ever be.
There was no force behind it at all, and yet you knew that you couldn’t keep your balance for much longer. He seemed to sense your bones going weak, for he reached around with his free hand, pressing it gently into the small of your back and drawing you closer to him. Your hand instinctually found his hip, your fingers splayed across his tunic.
And then you‘re going over, and he’s subtly shifting you forward so that you can lie back on the bench comfortably, your head only nearly touching the armrest. Somewhere south on the too-thin bench, legs intertwine, a thigh ending up between yours.
You don’t fully register just how intimate this is getting until he pulls back and he’s staring down at you, his deep eyes fixed on you in a way you never believed to be possible. Your breath catches in your throat, and the sounds of the tavern fade into nothing more than mere muffles.
“How’s that?” he gasps, just as breathless as you.
It’s all you can manage, and it makes him chuckle. The sound quirks at your lips, but before you know it, they have other things to do than smile.
This time he slips inside your mouth, his tongue moving languidly with yours. Of its own accord, your hand buries itself so deeply in his hair that you think they’ll probably need to send a search party for it.
Your fingers scrape against his scalp, but it quickly becomes too difficult to maintain the level of concentration necessary to continue. You’ve only just stopped the motion when his lips move away again. You have half a mind to whine in disappointment – damn the childishness of it – but the sound is silenced in your throat when he locks onto the soft flesh on the side of your neck, alternating between sucking and biting.
The whine turns into a contented sigh.
He chuckles, and suddenly he shifts his leg upwards, grazing his thigh against your crotch. You let out a strange sound: a mixture of a moan and a groan and a breath.
Your leg bends at the knee, until your foot is lying flat against the bench, and your back arches. He takes the opportunity to free his hand from underneath you, drawing it out from behind your back and resting it on your thigh.
All his movements are precise, done expertly and with a natural but practised talent. It suddenly feels almost formulaic, and you remember with a heavy heart that while he can make you feel like the only one in the room, you’re certainly not the only one those lips have kissed.
“Do you do this with all the boys?” you drawl.
He takes his time in answering. He trails upwards, planting kisses up your neck, until he draws your earlobe into his mouth, giving it a single, wet pull. Your eyes flutter closed, and you almost forget to listen to his response, murmured huskily in your ear.
“There’s only you, beautiful.”
It sounds like a promise, and you can’t help but believe it. You tug at his hair, pulling his head up so that your lips can meet again. He shifts the hand on your thigh, trailing his fingertips down to your knee.
His name falls from your lips and you’re glad that, while he erases the memory of everything around you, he leaves you that to remember.