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“The Fence” kept the wasteland and its mutated horrors at bay and yet Uther’s obsession over “Reclaiming the Earth!” caused him to ignore the bigger picture. Arthur’s decision to hand the City Marshal’s position over to Morgana was almost entirely because of his father's almost manic preoccupation with war, and his personal determination to see that something would survive the inevitable bloodshed besides walking corpses.
So now he taught History and Survival to children while his father created genetically altered humans and formed them into an army that was immune to infection. A secret army of powerful, and highly distracting, people like Merlin who just showed up one day at Arthur’s shelter and just never left. Unlike the other felinoid soldiers his slitted eyes were dual colored, one gold and one blue, rather than the universal green. He was the most territorial, cheerful, and dedicatedly protective bastard Arthur had ever had the misfortune to meet.
“Merlin!” Arthur hissed furiously. “How did the horde get past the Fence and just what are they doing so far into the city?” A shadow detached itself from the corner to stalk forward with casual grace.
“Cenred has a research facility nearby. He’s claimed to be able to handle its spilled milk.” Merlin answered lazily. That would explain the ruckus coming from outside.
Arthur gave a resigned sigh. “Yes, alright then. Go ahead.”
.....Later.....
Arthur’s patrol of the perimeter eventually took him to a storage room where he found Merlin washing the blood from his naked body, a playful expression on his face. He managed to get the door shut and locked behind him before the felinoid is on him, backing him against the wall, and fingers that squeezed and dug teasingly into his hips.
“I killed them. I killed them all Arthur and left your crest on the wall in their blood.” Merlin preened.
“Christ!” Arthur groaned, exasperated. Head tilted back to stare up at the ceiling. “Cenred isn’t going to take that well.”
“Arthur,” Merlin interrupted, voice honey dark and so very pleased with himself. “I missed you.”
His mouth glided along the length of Arthur’s bared throat where his bottom lip caught and dragged against the sensitive flesh there. He couldn’t help but shiver at the gentle gust of breath across the slightly damp skin. There was a pleased rumble and then he was being nuzzled as a wet mouth and tiny fangs nipped at the curve of his jaw.
“No you didn’t.” Arthur muttered, distracted. His attention caught by the almost hypnotizing glint of hooped metal in the top of Merlin’s delicately pointed ear. Sometimes It was hard to remember that he really was still a man, and not actually a giant cat.
Merlin’s teasing grip was suddenly firm on his thighs and Arthur’s spread open and lifted so his legs were open and cradling slender hips, flush against the heat and compact strength of the felinoids body. His surprised exclamation is caught in a lazy kiss that set his body writhing against Merlin’s, had his cock filling in slow, hot pulses against the rough cloth of his cargo pants.
“Of course I missed you.” Merlin crooned. “I always miss you. You’re mine.”
Arthur scoffed but there was no denying how utterly pliant he was in Merlin’s arms, or how easily he’s manipulated by him. It’s downright embarrassing how much he’s gotten away with in the short amount of time they’ve known each other already. Suddenly Arthur’s pants were open and sliding down his legs, the stone wall cold and uncomfortable where it scraped against the bared skin. Merlin continued to literally purr nonsense in his ear as he kneaded at the plump curve of Arthur’s ass, at least until his fingers encountered the slick wetness there. Merlin immediately fell still and silent at the discovery, pushed Arthur tight against the wall and brought one hand up to eye level so they both could see the liquid gleaming in the dim light on the nails of his suddenly extended claws.
Merlin’s pupils narrowed into thin, black slits before the claw ripped and rent the cloth between them until the thick fabric hung in tattered shreds around them. He was caught in the unnatural focus of his gaze, barely had enough time to brace himself before he was lifted completely off the ground with ease and pressed open by the thick, blunt pressure of Merlin’s cock.
“Fuck!” Arthur knew it’d be like this, prepared for it but still wrapped his arms around Merlin’s neck and clung tightly as he shook in reaction.
After a few minutes the almost painful stretch of it eased into an ache that he could relax into and the tight little swivels of Merlins' hips became smoother slides that had the felinoid practically purring into his ear in pleasure and Arthur groaning in relief. The demanding little monster was relentless in the way he pistoned up into the wet warmth of his body and Arthur was grateful for the thick jacket that kept his back from being scraped raw against the stone.
Then he suddenly stopped moving and Arthur couldn’t prevent the small sigh of disappointment he breathed out, much to his dismay. Unfortunately Merlin heard because he smiles and his eyes lit up with unholy glee. He readjusted his grip on to delicately caress the sensitive skin between his cheeks teasingly with his claws.
“Get on with it.” Arthur huffed, and Merlin’s smile widened to Cheshire-like proportions. Then he started to move, move in slow, devastatingly accurate pumps that sent sparks of heat racing down his spine and tightened his groin. A wave of heat that seethed under his skin and caused Arthur to break out into a full body sweat after only a few moments of the metronome steady cadence he’s set.
Merlin wasn’t exactly immune to the pace either, already he was shamelessly gasping and mewling against Arthur’s throat, suckling at the sweat there and marking the skin. He’s practically begging when he said, “Touch yourself, please.” So he raised a hand palm up and bit back a weak sounding whine of his own when he said, “Get it wet.” Then Arthur took himself in hand and worked himself furiously, guttural moans building in volume as Merlin devolved into nonverbal sounds of encouragement in his own kittenish pleasure.
Precum made his strokes short, sloppy, and perfect. Every shudder of Merlin’s body, the slick weight of his dick pressing inside made Arthur’s balls clench, made his dick jump and throb with the need to spit and spill all over himself. Merlin’s little cries became urgent and loud, echoing in the small space of the storage room. It was exactly what he needed .
“Ah god--!” Arthur came with a shocked sob, face tucked into the curve of the felinoids neck as he shivered helplessly with the force of it. Merlin gave one last tremulous cry of his own then bit down and latched onto the meat of his shoulder as he followed him over the edge. After a moment he lowered them carefully to the ground, still shivering from his release, and arranged Arthur to splay comfortably on top of him. He purred and stroked Arthur's hair lovingly, obviously pleased.