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Entry tags:
Fic: Bros, Frogs And All That Jizz
Title: Bros, Frogs And All That Jizz
Pairing: Arthur/Elyan, past but relevant Arthur/Gwen
Rating: NC-17
Warning: past (canon) infidelity
Length: 3100
Summary: Frogs don't turn into princes or princesses and Arthur can't just get over Gwen's betrayal, but Elyan's there and he's not a frog, so there's that.
Notes: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sheswatching and paragraphs for beta
Arthur would have snogged any frog to get her back. He'd sloshed through the rain to the bus stop for the 65 and even got on for a trip to the wetlands to find the first slimy thing to stick his tongue into and poof, have it transform into Gwen -- the whole prince and princess story fucked in reverse, but he'd just got off at the next stop and trotted back to the flat with soggy sneakers and his heart somewhere roundabout his pants and endlessly, forever shattered.
Or something like that.
The flat was a pigsty, Gwen's shit still in every nook and cranny, amidst the regular mess that was all his. There were photos and books and clothes, there was his bed; everything another reminder.
"You're sodden." Merlin was doing the dishes from their drowned-sorrows-and-80s-music bash, barefoot, hung-over, obnoxious as ever because he liked to squirm into Arthur's life and convince him that he was better off with him around.
"You're ugly," Arthur replied, ignoring the eyeroll he got in reply as he stripped out of his wet clothes and left them in a sad puddle in the hallway. He sat on the couch, put on the telly, tried to tell himself that wanting to throw up was all down to the alcohol and not at all down to everything else.
People flickered on the screen, but he wasn't seeing them much, only replayed the conversation in his head: her face and her words and how every syllable squashed things inside him.
"She'll come back if you call her, you know." Merlin swivelled the dish rag in Arthur's face, dishwater bubbles sailing past Arthur's nose.
"I'm not calling," Arthur said as he craned his neck to look up at Merlin. Merlin did the camp thing, the hands on his hips, hips cocked thing, the Merlin was being an utter twat thing, silently, of course. "Not after that, I'd be insane to."
Merlin pulled a face but kept his mouth shut and fucked off not long after.
***
The nights were miserable. He could drown himself in work for most of the day, come home, cook something quick and dirty and then park his arse on the couch until it was eleven or twelve. A wank later and he could go to sleep, but they were still a miserable few hours and it showed in his face when he fucked up the shave in the morning and couldn't quite bring himself to smile at the girl in the coffeeshop. Mirrors were liferuiners.
Merlin kept nagging, texting him shit that ranged from demands, to info on how he'd seen her around town and she'd started crying, to namecalling with the odd apology thrown in, the odd pint down at the local which went great until he slipped Gwen into the conversation casual-like and kicked off when Arthur shut him down before he'd even babbled the whole sentence out.
Never mind that she'd messed around with his best mate. Arthur would have run him through with a butter knife and spread his insides on whole wheat toast if Lance had texted, but he never did.
Between work and his couch, two people less to clutter his inbox, life settled. Uncomfortably and too fucking lonely but it passed the time. Merlin slipped into his flat and his life quietly when they didn't fight over stupid shit, and they spent nights just watching shit TV, eating popcorn and not talking about much at all.
He still imagined her lips when he wrapped his fingers around his dick, inevitably and stupidly, and then stared at the ceiling for another few hours as he tried to stop missing her in the middle of the night.
***
"Still got the best view," Arthur said as he stepped towards the window behind Elyan. He shook his head when Elyan offered the cigarette and just leaned against the frame to look out over the dark town. They'd had the first snow and now had the bit of mush, the lights reflecting in the puddles on the streets.
Percy and Leon were sprawled on the couches, watching Gwaine trying to break a Wii record at something hilarious, judging by everyone's reactions. Lancelot's absence was still palpable, that empty seat and that extra bottle of beer that remained before they headed out to the clubs.
"Is she good?" Arthur asked eventually. He picked at the window frame and pulled off some specks of paint until frog-green dust covered his fingertips.
"I wouldn't know, mate," Elyan said. He glanced at Arthur, brows drawn and lips pursed, then pushed away from the window. "Get you another as well?"
Arthur nodded, struck by Elyan's gait, the movement as he dodged Gwaine's fingers flicking for his face, even the careful smile being the same as Gwen's.
"You've not talked?" Arthur asked when he took the can from Elyan and gulped the first few sips.
"Oh we've texted here and there, but..." Elyan hopped up on the window sill, legs dangling. "It's not right, is it? Not of Lance either."
Arthur had a few choice words for how not right it was, the ones Merlin didn't want to hear about, the ones that made Merlin rolls his eyes as he told him to shag his bros already, but there were bros and then there were ... women.
"Do you think they'd been at it long before that?"
Elyan shrugged and sipped his beer then whooped when Gwaine did his victory dance in the middle of Arthur's living room.
"Prefer not to think about it," Elyan said eventually and drank down more before he dragged Arthur back into the room and let Gwaine thrust a controller into his hand.
And fuck if Arthur wasn't more than down with not thinking about it. They went through a whole list of sports, egging one another on to go harder and faster amidst more beer, a few spirits, shots that splattered down the front of his shirt, until the boxing and a few missed punches had Arthur crash to the couch, half on top of Elyan, and Gwaine flop over the coffee table under the calls of the others.
"Tryin' to knock me out cold, are you?" Gwaine shouted, a bit too loud, rubbing at his jaw. Percy leaned over, puckering his lips to try and kiss it better and got a hand in his face for the trouble. Bladdered like he was, he ended up rolling Gwaine off the table and going at him with pulled punches.
Arthur was watching through the haze of alcohol, laughing, probably too loud, as well, but he couldn't stop himself, then he dropped his head back and watched his thumb rub up and down Elyan's thigh, the nail catching on the jeans every now and then. He could feel Elyan's heat through his shirt, heard his heartbeat when he pressed his ear to his chest just so, and didn't want to lift his hand off Elyan's leg.
Gwaine was crying uncle and pushed Percy off him, jarring the half-empty cans on the side table, the bottle of vodka and the few cartons of juice. Everything teetered, then didn't topple and the two of them fell back against the couch still breathing hard.
"I think I'll..." Gwaine started and squinted at all of them, then pulled a face. "I think I'll have another for the road." He grabbed the lone beer from the table and did away with it in one long gulp.
Leon had gone off for a piss and ruffled Arthur's hair when he came back in, dodging Arthur swatting at him with a laugh as he went for his coat. "We going then?"
They all roused, Gwaine successfully navigating coat and bottle and liquid not sloshing all over himself. "Coming?"
"Meet you there." Arthur gestured at the room and shrugged. "Clean up so I... tomorrow ... things." Arthur exhaled and hoped his hands conveyed the rest of the point.
Gwaine shrugged and followed the others out the door, leaving the freeze-frame on the screen and the quiet in the flat for Arthur and Elyan. Arthur relaxed back against Elyan's chest, toeing at one of the bottles on the floor.
Elyan's pocket vibrated with a text but he didn't reach for it.
"Gwen?" Arthur asked, brushing his fingers over the phone outline.
"Probably." Elyan stretched and leaned back against the couch.
Arthur slipped closer against him without doing much of anything, just dozing along on that drunken wave where he was too out of it to consider the thumping of the bass in a club. One of his thighs hung over Elyan's and the next time the phone buzzed he felt it against his leg. Arthur moved around and pushed his hand into Elyan's pocket and pulled out his phone, waiting for Elyan to say something and stop him, but Elyan's fingers just moved to the small of his back and stayed there.
Arthur thumbed the phone open and went to the messages.
"She says to tell me she wants to talk," Arthur said and scrolled back through the conversation, reading Elyan's terse one-word replies and her sorries and attempts at conversation.
"She wants to talk," Elyan said, shrugged.
Arthur leaned back against him, head on Elyan's shoulder, Elyan's breath fanning out over the top of his hair, and thumbed through the old pictures on Elyan's phone. Hanging with the lads, then photos of the last birthday bash, Lance's, all of them drinking and laughing together.
"I can't," Arthur said, forcing his voice not to wobble on it as he stared at her smile on the photo and all the fucking lies that had hidden behind it. Lance had his arms around her and the wobble of being a fucking girl about this turned into the butter-knife massacre feeling awfully fast, before it collapsed into that heap of anti-fairytale betrayal and bullshit and sogged about around Arthur's feet.
Elyan took the phone from him and pushed it back into his pocket. His fingers lingered there, and Arthur touched them, just ran his own over them and fought to replace that wave of longing and misery with something a lot of more righteous and less gay, but Elyan did nothing to stop him being a creep about this.
"Would have been our anniversary tonight," Arthur said. He curled his fingers around Elyan's, rubbed his thumb over Elyan's knuckles, ignoring the bling of his ring and the absence of the one Gwen's kept.
"Yes?"
"Yeah." Arthur turned and pressed his lips to Elyan's, then pulled back, waiting for that snap of the fingers and poof but Elyan's gaze only flickered across Arthur's face. Arthur didn't dare try it again and just dropped his head back to Elyan's shoulder.
"You had plans?" Elyan asked like nothing had happened, fingers curling into the fabric of the back of Arthur's shirt.
"Maybe." Arthur shifted, thumb rubbing into Elyan's palm. He'd had a nice date planned, and flowers and then sex, rose petals and a bit of champagne and being the proper romantic prince charming boyfriend that he knew he could be and that Merlin nagged him to be to hell and back. He would've been so fucking perfect.
Arthur turned his face into Elyan's chest, just inhaled him because he smelled like Gwen, okay, just a little, somewhere underneath in his blood or whatever, he was a bit like Gwen. Arthur craned his neck up, and his lips found Elyan's throat. Elyan swallowed, everything moved and he said things and it vibrated in his throat and chest, caught on Arthur's lips and Arthur tried sucking a bit, ended up just opening and closing his lips.
He didn't hear a word Elyan was saying, just mumbled, "Sorry," and "Can I," and may have said "Please," under his breath. With his eyes closed Elyan was heat and skin and solid under his fingers and mouth. He was brushing his thumb over the skin just above the waist of Elyan's jeans, his lips brushing over Elyan's neck to his chin, then down again where the skin was smoother, the reminders less jagged and less likely to have him snap out of this as a tremendously shitty idea.
Elyan's fingers were in his hair, his thumb behind his ear, and Arthur burst with the familiarity of it, with the the way Elyan's voice rumbled through him and his touches were so soft in all the right places. His thumb smudged over Arthur's cheek and Arthur turned his face into the touch, just dragging his lips over everything he could reach as he went out of his skin.
They slid sideways on the couch, Arthur on his knees in front of it. He looked up only once to see Elyan's eyes, only once to find him watching him, and then Elyan brushed his fingers over Arthur's lids and Arthur closed his eyes to it, just knowing that this was as close as he'd get, as much as he'd ever get again.
Elyan's shirt shifted up easy when Arthur pushed at it. Elyan guided his face down and Arthur took to it, just skimming his lips up along ribs to puckered nipples, tongue and mouth loose and spit wet. His lips tingled with it, buzzing, vibrating with the alcohol and Elyan's voice in his chest.
Arthur slipped a hand into his own trousers, just palmed his hard cock through his boxers. He pushed into his palm, then just pressed his crotch to the couch and ground against it, as he imagined all the candlelight and all the rose petals and Gwen saying fucking I love you even once to his face.
Elyan played his fingertips over the nape of Arthur's neck. His touch tickled and tingled and made Arthur harder and more desperate. Faraway he heard himself moan stupidly and babble nonsense but right here, right now, there was only the skin under his lips and the fingers in his hair that made him feel like he still mattered to someone, that someone was still there who gave a fuck about how hard he tried.
"Shhh," Elyan said, and Arthur shushed and rubbed his cheek on Elyan's chest as he chased the sensation, the never quite enough and oh so good of touch, skin on skin. Elyan's phone vibrated under Arthur's chest but they both ignored it, Arthur's tongue following a trail of spit, his lips mouthing treasure maps onto Elyan's skin.
Every thrust sent his hips against the couch and the couch rocking but he couldn't stop, muscles bunching and releasing as he rode the wave of being almost just about there, needing a little more, just another touch, another soft sound in his ear, another sneaking press of fingers on his back as they slid under his shirt.
"Sorry," Arthur muttered but couldn't stop and turn his face away.
He imagined the I love you to follow, imagined it in Gwen's voice and with Gwen's smile, imagined sliding into her deep as she opened just for him, wet and hot around his cock as he buried into her entirely and just gave her all he had. He gave her everything he'd ever had, and she said I love you in return, in those quiet whispers, those careful touches, with that voice right next to his ear, as he thrust once, twice more and then came.
Fingers clenched into Elyan's jeans, mouth open on his chest, Arthur shuddered on top of him, his body jerking with it. Blood pounding in his head amidst the alcohol, his skin vibrating with it, Arthur let Elyan touch him, push his hair from his forehead and hold him, cheek pressed to Elyan's chest, like you'd hold a lover.
Arthur wouldn't cry for this, he wouldn't, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt where the I love yous were only in his own head.
Elyan shifted underneath him, stretched his leg, but he didn't move away. His chest was tacky with drying saliva under Arthur's cheek, but Arthur didn't want to move either when this was the first time he didn't feel like he was shriveling up inside.
"Thought you might be a frog," Arthur said after a while, voice hoarse.
"How is that?" Elyan replied, fingers spread over Arthur's shoulder blade.
"The whole prince fairytale thing."
"Right." Elyan laughed, the indulging-the-drunk laugh. Arthur was okay with that, Arthur was okay with a lot of things. Even frogs that didn't really exist, ever.
***
"You look rotten," Merlin said, drinking coffee from one of his cups, eating one of his baps, blaring the TV too blasted loud for any morning, much less a hungover Sunday.
"Piss off," Arthur replied. He blinked at the too-bright light, the remainder of the party in gross view all over his flat. His shirt was sticking to him in weird places and the insides of his shorts were gummy with come.
So that had happened.
"Why are you here? They kick you out of your place?" Arthur got out, but Merlin was already back in the kitchen singing to himself off-key and stupid and when the whistling started Arthur was looking for something to toss at the back of his stupid head.
He turned over on his back and felt for his crotch, looked around for any sign of anything as the memories of the night filtered back into his brain and made him feel like the last pathetic idiot on earth.
"Elyan texted to tell you he's dragging you out to the wetlands today," Merlin shouted from the kitchen then stomped his way to stand over the couch, dishrag in hand. "What is it with you and frogs anyway?"
Arthur blinked up at him and shrugged then angled for the only half-empty bottle of beer by the foot of the couch and downed it in one. It wasn't an answer but Merlin walked off without a reply so it was a bit of a success.
It took until the shower before Arthur thought of Gwen again. Small steps, very small steps.
Pairing: Arthur/Elyan, past but relevant Arthur/Gwen
Rating: NC-17
Warning: past (canon) infidelity
Length: 3100
Summary: Frogs don't turn into princes or princesses and Arthur can't just get over Gwen's betrayal, but Elyan's there and he's not a frog, so there's that.
Notes: Thanks to
sheswatching and paragraphs for betaArthur would have snogged any frog to get her back. He'd sloshed through the rain to the bus stop for the 65 and even got on for a trip to the wetlands to find the first slimy thing to stick his tongue into and poof, have it transform into Gwen -- the whole prince and princess story fucked in reverse, but he'd just got off at the next stop and trotted back to the flat with soggy sneakers and his heart somewhere roundabout his pants and endlessly, forever shattered.
Or something like that.
The flat was a pigsty, Gwen's shit still in every nook and cranny, amidst the regular mess that was all his. There were photos and books and clothes, there was his bed; everything another reminder.
"You're sodden." Merlin was doing the dishes from their drowned-sorrows-and-80s-music bash, barefoot, hung-over, obnoxious as ever because he liked to squirm into Arthur's life and convince him that he was better off with him around.
"You're ugly," Arthur replied, ignoring the eyeroll he got in reply as he stripped out of his wet clothes and left them in a sad puddle in the hallway. He sat on the couch, put on the telly, tried to tell himself that wanting to throw up was all down to the alcohol and not at all down to everything else.
People flickered on the screen, but he wasn't seeing them much, only replayed the conversation in his head: her face and her words and how every syllable squashed things inside him.
"She'll come back if you call her, you know." Merlin swivelled the dish rag in Arthur's face, dishwater bubbles sailing past Arthur's nose.
"I'm not calling," Arthur said as he craned his neck to look up at Merlin. Merlin did the camp thing, the hands on his hips, hips cocked thing, the Merlin was being an utter twat thing, silently, of course. "Not after that, I'd be insane to."
Merlin pulled a face but kept his mouth shut and fucked off not long after.
***
The nights were miserable. He could drown himself in work for most of the day, come home, cook something quick and dirty and then park his arse on the couch until it was eleven or twelve. A wank later and he could go to sleep, but they were still a miserable few hours and it showed in his face when he fucked up the shave in the morning and couldn't quite bring himself to smile at the girl in the coffeeshop. Mirrors were liferuiners.
Merlin kept nagging, texting him shit that ranged from demands, to info on how he'd seen her around town and she'd started crying, to namecalling with the odd apology thrown in, the odd pint down at the local which went great until he slipped Gwen into the conversation casual-like and kicked off when Arthur shut him down before he'd even babbled the whole sentence out.
Never mind that she'd messed around with his best mate. Arthur would have run him through with a butter knife and spread his insides on whole wheat toast if Lance had texted, but he never did.
Between work and his couch, two people less to clutter his inbox, life settled. Uncomfortably and too fucking lonely but it passed the time. Merlin slipped into his flat and his life quietly when they didn't fight over stupid shit, and they spent nights just watching shit TV, eating popcorn and not talking about much at all.
He still imagined her lips when he wrapped his fingers around his dick, inevitably and stupidly, and then stared at the ceiling for another few hours as he tried to stop missing her in the middle of the night.
***
"Still got the best view," Arthur said as he stepped towards the window behind Elyan. He shook his head when Elyan offered the cigarette and just leaned against the frame to look out over the dark town. They'd had the first snow and now had the bit of mush, the lights reflecting in the puddles on the streets.
Percy and Leon were sprawled on the couches, watching Gwaine trying to break a Wii record at something hilarious, judging by everyone's reactions. Lancelot's absence was still palpable, that empty seat and that extra bottle of beer that remained before they headed out to the clubs.
"Is she good?" Arthur asked eventually. He picked at the window frame and pulled off some specks of paint until frog-green dust covered his fingertips.
"I wouldn't know, mate," Elyan said. He glanced at Arthur, brows drawn and lips pursed, then pushed away from the window. "Get you another as well?"
Arthur nodded, struck by Elyan's gait, the movement as he dodged Gwaine's fingers flicking for his face, even the careful smile being the same as Gwen's.
"You've not talked?" Arthur asked when he took the can from Elyan and gulped the first few sips.
"Oh we've texted here and there, but..." Elyan hopped up on the window sill, legs dangling. "It's not right, is it? Not of Lance either."
Arthur had a few choice words for how not right it was, the ones Merlin didn't want to hear about, the ones that made Merlin rolls his eyes as he told him to shag his bros already, but there were bros and then there were ... women.
"Do you think they'd been at it long before that?"
Elyan shrugged and sipped his beer then whooped when Gwaine did his victory dance in the middle of Arthur's living room.
"Prefer not to think about it," Elyan said eventually and drank down more before he dragged Arthur back into the room and let Gwaine thrust a controller into his hand.
And fuck if Arthur wasn't more than down with not thinking about it. They went through a whole list of sports, egging one another on to go harder and faster amidst more beer, a few spirits, shots that splattered down the front of his shirt, until the boxing and a few missed punches had Arthur crash to the couch, half on top of Elyan, and Gwaine flop over the coffee table under the calls of the others.
"Tryin' to knock me out cold, are you?" Gwaine shouted, a bit too loud, rubbing at his jaw. Percy leaned over, puckering his lips to try and kiss it better and got a hand in his face for the trouble. Bladdered like he was, he ended up rolling Gwaine off the table and going at him with pulled punches.
Arthur was watching through the haze of alcohol, laughing, probably too loud, as well, but he couldn't stop himself, then he dropped his head back and watched his thumb rub up and down Elyan's thigh, the nail catching on the jeans every now and then. He could feel Elyan's heat through his shirt, heard his heartbeat when he pressed his ear to his chest just so, and didn't want to lift his hand off Elyan's leg.
Gwaine was crying uncle and pushed Percy off him, jarring the half-empty cans on the side table, the bottle of vodka and the few cartons of juice. Everything teetered, then didn't topple and the two of them fell back against the couch still breathing hard.
"I think I'll..." Gwaine started and squinted at all of them, then pulled a face. "I think I'll have another for the road." He grabbed the lone beer from the table and did away with it in one long gulp.
Leon had gone off for a piss and ruffled Arthur's hair when he came back in, dodging Arthur swatting at him with a laugh as he went for his coat. "We going then?"
They all roused, Gwaine successfully navigating coat and bottle and liquid not sloshing all over himself. "Coming?"
"Meet you there." Arthur gestured at the room and shrugged. "Clean up so I... tomorrow ... things." Arthur exhaled and hoped his hands conveyed the rest of the point.
Gwaine shrugged and followed the others out the door, leaving the freeze-frame on the screen and the quiet in the flat for Arthur and Elyan. Arthur relaxed back against Elyan's chest, toeing at one of the bottles on the floor.
Elyan's pocket vibrated with a text but he didn't reach for it.
"Gwen?" Arthur asked, brushing his fingers over the phone outline.
"Probably." Elyan stretched and leaned back against the couch.
Arthur slipped closer against him without doing much of anything, just dozing along on that drunken wave where he was too out of it to consider the thumping of the bass in a club. One of his thighs hung over Elyan's and the next time the phone buzzed he felt it against his leg. Arthur moved around and pushed his hand into Elyan's pocket and pulled out his phone, waiting for Elyan to say something and stop him, but Elyan's fingers just moved to the small of his back and stayed there.
Arthur thumbed the phone open and went to the messages.
"She says to tell me she wants to talk," Arthur said and scrolled back through the conversation, reading Elyan's terse one-word replies and her sorries and attempts at conversation.
"She wants to talk," Elyan said, shrugged.
Arthur leaned back against him, head on Elyan's shoulder, Elyan's breath fanning out over the top of his hair, and thumbed through the old pictures on Elyan's phone. Hanging with the lads, then photos of the last birthday bash, Lance's, all of them drinking and laughing together.
"I can't," Arthur said, forcing his voice not to wobble on it as he stared at her smile on the photo and all the fucking lies that had hidden behind it. Lance had his arms around her and the wobble of being a fucking girl about this turned into the butter-knife massacre feeling awfully fast, before it collapsed into that heap of anti-fairytale betrayal and bullshit and sogged about around Arthur's feet.
Elyan took the phone from him and pushed it back into his pocket. His fingers lingered there, and Arthur touched them, just ran his own over them and fought to replace that wave of longing and misery with something a lot of more righteous and less gay, but Elyan did nothing to stop him being a creep about this.
"Would have been our anniversary tonight," Arthur said. He curled his fingers around Elyan's, rubbed his thumb over Elyan's knuckles, ignoring the bling of his ring and the absence of the one Gwen's kept.
"Yes?"
"Yeah." Arthur turned and pressed his lips to Elyan's, then pulled back, waiting for that snap of the fingers and poof but Elyan's gaze only flickered across Arthur's face. Arthur didn't dare try it again and just dropped his head back to Elyan's shoulder.
"You had plans?" Elyan asked like nothing had happened, fingers curling into the fabric of the back of Arthur's shirt.
"Maybe." Arthur shifted, thumb rubbing into Elyan's palm. He'd had a nice date planned, and flowers and then sex, rose petals and a bit of champagne and being the proper romantic prince charming boyfriend that he knew he could be and that Merlin nagged him to be to hell and back. He would've been so fucking perfect.
Arthur turned his face into Elyan's chest, just inhaled him because he smelled like Gwen, okay, just a little, somewhere underneath in his blood or whatever, he was a bit like Gwen. Arthur craned his neck up, and his lips found Elyan's throat. Elyan swallowed, everything moved and he said things and it vibrated in his throat and chest, caught on Arthur's lips and Arthur tried sucking a bit, ended up just opening and closing his lips.
He didn't hear a word Elyan was saying, just mumbled, "Sorry," and "Can I," and may have said "Please," under his breath. With his eyes closed Elyan was heat and skin and solid under his fingers and mouth. He was brushing his thumb over the skin just above the waist of Elyan's jeans, his lips brushing over Elyan's neck to his chin, then down again where the skin was smoother, the reminders less jagged and less likely to have him snap out of this as a tremendously shitty idea.
Elyan's fingers were in his hair, his thumb behind his ear, and Arthur burst with the familiarity of it, with the the way Elyan's voice rumbled through him and his touches were so soft in all the right places. His thumb smudged over Arthur's cheek and Arthur turned his face into the touch, just dragging his lips over everything he could reach as he went out of his skin.
They slid sideways on the couch, Arthur on his knees in front of it. He looked up only once to see Elyan's eyes, only once to find him watching him, and then Elyan brushed his fingers over Arthur's lids and Arthur closed his eyes to it, just knowing that this was as close as he'd get, as much as he'd ever get again.
Elyan's shirt shifted up easy when Arthur pushed at it. Elyan guided his face down and Arthur took to it, just skimming his lips up along ribs to puckered nipples, tongue and mouth loose and spit wet. His lips tingled with it, buzzing, vibrating with the alcohol and Elyan's voice in his chest.
Arthur slipped a hand into his own trousers, just palmed his hard cock through his boxers. He pushed into his palm, then just pressed his crotch to the couch and ground against it, as he imagined all the candlelight and all the rose petals and Gwen saying fucking I love you even once to his face.
Elyan played his fingertips over the nape of Arthur's neck. His touch tickled and tingled and made Arthur harder and more desperate. Faraway he heard himself moan stupidly and babble nonsense but right here, right now, there was only the skin under his lips and the fingers in his hair that made him feel like he still mattered to someone, that someone was still there who gave a fuck about how hard he tried.
"Shhh," Elyan said, and Arthur shushed and rubbed his cheek on Elyan's chest as he chased the sensation, the never quite enough and oh so good of touch, skin on skin. Elyan's phone vibrated under Arthur's chest but they both ignored it, Arthur's tongue following a trail of spit, his lips mouthing treasure maps onto Elyan's skin.
Every thrust sent his hips against the couch and the couch rocking but he couldn't stop, muscles bunching and releasing as he rode the wave of being almost just about there, needing a little more, just another touch, another soft sound in his ear, another sneaking press of fingers on his back as they slid under his shirt.
"Sorry," Arthur muttered but couldn't stop and turn his face away.
He imagined the I love you to follow, imagined it in Gwen's voice and with Gwen's smile, imagined sliding into her deep as she opened just for him, wet and hot around his cock as he buried into her entirely and just gave her all he had. He gave her everything he'd ever had, and she said I love you in return, in those quiet whispers, those careful touches, with that voice right next to his ear, as he thrust once, twice more and then came.
Fingers clenched into Elyan's jeans, mouth open on his chest, Arthur shuddered on top of him, his body jerking with it. Blood pounding in his head amidst the alcohol, his skin vibrating with it, Arthur let Elyan touch him, push his hair from his forehead and hold him, cheek pressed to Elyan's chest, like you'd hold a lover.
Arthur wouldn't cry for this, he wouldn't, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt where the I love yous were only in his own head.
Elyan shifted underneath him, stretched his leg, but he didn't move away. His chest was tacky with drying saliva under Arthur's cheek, but Arthur didn't want to move either when this was the first time he didn't feel like he was shriveling up inside.
"Thought you might be a frog," Arthur said after a while, voice hoarse.
"How is that?" Elyan replied, fingers spread over Arthur's shoulder blade.
"The whole prince fairytale thing."
"Right." Elyan laughed, the indulging-the-drunk laugh. Arthur was okay with that, Arthur was okay with a lot of things. Even frogs that didn't really exist, ever.
***
"You look rotten," Merlin said, drinking coffee from one of his cups, eating one of his baps, blaring the TV too blasted loud for any morning, much less a hungover Sunday.
"Piss off," Arthur replied. He blinked at the too-bright light, the remainder of the party in gross view all over his flat. His shirt was sticking to him in weird places and the insides of his shorts were gummy with come.
So that had happened.
"Why are you here? They kick you out of your place?" Arthur got out, but Merlin was already back in the kitchen singing to himself off-key and stupid and when the whistling started Arthur was looking for something to toss at the back of his stupid head.
He turned over on his back and felt for his crotch, looked around for any sign of anything as the memories of the night filtered back into his brain and made him feel like the last pathetic idiot on earth.
"Elyan texted to tell you he's dragging you out to the wetlands today," Merlin shouted from the kitchen then stomped his way to stand over the couch, dishrag in hand. "What is it with you and frogs anyway?"
Arthur blinked up at him and shrugged then angled for the only half-empty bottle of beer by the foot of the couch and downed it in one. It wasn't an answer but Merlin walked off without a reply so it was a bit of a success.
It took until the shower before Arthur thought of Gwen again. Small steps, very small steps.
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<3 Love this part especially. Arthur/Elyan needs to always be a thing. Elyan is so nice and gentle to him without getting in his face.
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"She wants to talk," Elyan said, shrugged.
this is my absolute favourite part of this fic. just uh...wanted it on the record :D
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The texture.
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