Entry tags:
open post | 4 | kink

◉ Drop a comment with one or more of your muses.
◉ Give me a prompt
◉ you can specify any of my muses whom you might like to play with, or I can pick.
◉ Everything goes, even the retired ones, but I can't guarantee good tags from them.
◉ sex!
◉ Give me a prompt
◉ you can specify any of my muses whom you might like to play with, or I can pick.
◉ Everything goes, even the retired ones, but I can't guarantee good tags from them.
◉ sex!
no subject
Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw a face someone that, given the years of distance from then to now, he would rightfully consider a stranger. He hadn't looked for long; there were more pressing matters.
His blood has just gone under a microscope when Eggsy enters without knocking, and Merlin doesn't bother to look up from compound lenses. ]
How many times do I have to tell you to knock, Lad? You could be walking into something dangerous for all that you know.
[ His voice changed from that of a child's to an adult's long before he looked like this, a fully grown but still quite young man of nineteen years. He could be more unlucky, given the circumstances. He hadn't gained any particularly notable amount of weight since, and had only lost a minimal amount of muscle mass to age. His button down was only somewhat tighter than it had been that morning due to the regaining of said minimal muscle mass, but with his sleeves rolled up nicely and his tie previously abandoned with his jumper on a shelf to prevent chemical damage, he remained in all regards but age the same man he had been when they had woken up tangled in Merlin's sheets that morning. ]
no subject
Holy fucking shit, Merlin?
[Heedless of the admonition he just summarily ignored, Eggsy reaches out and grabs on of Merlin's arms — this is Merlin, right? — a little distracted by the breadth of muscle beneath his hand. He's not crazy ripped or anything, but he's bulky enough that the shirt he's wearing is straining in ways it wasn't this morning, and Eggsy's utterly fascinated.
Less fascinated by his arms than he is by his face though. He's lost some of the hollowness to his cheeks, his jawline softened by the last vestiges of baby fat that cling to his face, but the nose is the same, and those eyebrows are still angry dark slashes that gather together above the frames of his glasses.
And his hair.]
Your hair! [He knows he's sounding like a total twat right now, but he can't make himself care. Merlin, his boyfriend Merlin, is standing in front of him with a teenager's face and a full head of hair, and it's honestly taking a little while longer for all of this to compute.]
Babe. Have you looked at yourself? [He tugs on Merlin's arm again to get him to turn away from his desk some more so Eggsy can stare at him properly.] You's well fit.
no subject
At the compliment, Merlin chuckles sheepishly and a hand jumps up to smooth over his full head of hair. It's been shaved clean for so long that to run his fingers through instead of over his hair is a motion he's almost forgotten. He's letting himself be shepherded by Eggsy's will, and that really is one the incredibly endearing things about the lad isn't it? He is miraculously good at getting people to want to drop everything that they're doing to keep his company, just by being himself. He's miraculously good at getting Merlin to stop, to talk, to listen, even when he should be working on fixing whatever he's done to himself. ]
Aye, I've seen it. I would rather see less of it, as a matter of fact, given that I don't know what the lasting effect might be.
no subject
He manages to insinuate himself between Merlin and his desk, impeding any hope his boyfriend might have of working, and busies himself with groping him some more, starting with his hair again and working his way down his chest and arms.]
Is this what you looked like when you was a recruit? [He's enjoying this so much. To see Merlin, his Merlin, the quartermaster whose grim scowl could make grown agents quake in their boots, look like a fresh-faced lad of eighteen is just about the greatest gift today could give him. Grinning brightly, he settles his hands on Merlin's waist and squeezes gently. Just as firm as he remembers.] How old are you now? I mean, I know how old you are, but how old were you when this, [he lifts his hand off Merlin's waist and waves it around to encompass everything Merlin is right now,] was a thing? You look younger'n me. An' I thought I was the baby around here.