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Mordred's feelings were... complicated. He had always wished, prayed for Emrys attention, care and love. He had desired to be Emrys sole focal point of life and had dabbled in the darker magics for it. He knew he had to take what was now offered to him by magic, but he never wanted it this way. He had wanted Emrys- the man Emrys with his bright eyes and cheeky smiles and whip-like wit- that was who he desired. Mordred had been so endlessly jealous, the green monster gnawing at his soul every waking and indeed sleeping moment of his life until he caved.The young druid found a ritual, one that bond Emrys to him in the most beautiful, and most drastic and dark way possible. Mordred loved- worshipped the slighter older man. Now after this ritual, Emrys had no choice but to let him.He was a knight by now, the perfect place to be to get close to Emrys. It had been a week; the longest Emrys could go without Mordred now. It was still too long in the young knight’s opinion.‘One step at a time. As long as he doesn’t know you’ve been the one to bind him, he will one day fall in love with you.’, Mordred thought impatiently. Yet he needed to empty his mind of all thoughts like that so Emrys wouldn’t get suspicious.A hesitant knock. “Come in.”The door opened hesitantly, always so hesitantly, and in came a tense-looking Emrys. “Good evening Mordred. I've brought you your weekly potion.”He smiled at Emrys, welcoming, warm. Or so he hoped. “Thank you, Merlin.” It felt strange to say words when his god could understand his thoughts. But, Emrys wished for Mordred to speak, so he spoke. The door closed.“How are you today?”“You are as aware as I that I can’t strain myself for another day... This damn whatever Morgana did..” There was fire in the words. Only to begin with though. A token protest, routine by now.“I know. I have not found out what kind of blood magic she used yet. I am sorry.” Mordred wasn’t, but he couldn’t tell that to the man while he tried to understand how much love there was between them.“I... I know. Sorry. I just... am so frustrated and tired.”Mordred nodded as if he could understand. He learned Emrys was most agreeable if Mordred showed compassion.They fell into an easy silence, used to it by now. After a few moments ticked by, Mordred reached out tentatively for Emrys hand. To his delight, Emrys did not pull away. “Can you relax for me, Merlin?” The name was grating on Mordred’s nerves, but he would play along, for as long as it took. His beautiful god was so full of hesitance with him - it made Mordred feel powerful. “As much as always I suppose,” Merlin murmured in reply, and Mordred rewarded him with a tender smile.The premise of the ritual was fairly simple. For any lesser being of magic, sex would have to come on a daily basis. With a being like Emrys, having sex once a week was pushing it, but doable. Mordred would have been a fool if this ritual were to be appeased by just any person sleeping with Emrys. No.Emrys needed to sleep with a person that fitted two criteria. 1) A fellow magic user with sustainable power; 2) The caster himself. While Emrys only knew a modified version of the criteria, there was no doubt who would benefit from this.“You won’t push yourself so much anymore, yes? We don’t want... I couldn’t bear seeing you like the first few weeks again…” Compassion and empathy, fear for Emrys and hurt by Emrys‘ action were the keys to keeping him pliant, malleable in Mordred’s capable hands.Emrys bit his lower lip but sighed, tension leaving him. “I promised. I won’t. I don’t particularly fancy going crazy or feeling as if I burned inside out....” a bit quieter he added, “Especially not when you are already sacrificing yourself like this for me.”Guilt. Another motivator to keep Emrys at his side. Mordred barely managed to hide a smirk. “Had you told me when you’d be here I’d prepared already. I know how much you hate keeping me company…”“No-” Emrys trailed off, obviously conflicted.That was alright by Mordred. The more conflicted Emrys was, the easier to manipulate he would get. Mordred let go, turned around and started to undress, folding his clothes dutifully and putting them aside before he stepped towards the bed.He made a grab for the oil but was halted by a warm calloused hand on his bare arm. “You...I…”He waited.“I mean you…”Mordred didn’t turn around. He felt the warm body behind him pressing close, still clothed. “Hm?”“You always offer yourself…” Now Mordred was intrigued. They had never talked about this, not after the initial... discussion, which had included a lot of vitriol and screaming.“It’s... I mean... I am the one cursed... so. You have been helping me. Being nothing but understanding... I should repay that favour.”Mordred’s breath caught. Did Emrys mean what he thought Emrys meant? “Are you suggesting?”“Just... be gentle ok?”Had Mordred not been working towards this goal, the surprise would have ruined his plans and he'd have come on the spot. As it was, he turned around, drinking in the other man. A god who pretended to be a man. A god that offered Mordred what no mortal should ever dare to touch. Mordred could feel the urge to kneel in front of Emrys. He didn’t.Instead, he kept looking, condemning himself for eternity perhaps, but Mordred could not bring himself to care. Emrys had made himself small-looking. Frail even, a lot of the Merlin persona shone through and Mordred both hated and adored it. Now it was Mordred who reached out hesitantly, a hand shakily finding its goal; the cheek under his palm so soft, so warm. “Are you sure Em- I mean Merlin.”Another moment of silence passed, both raven-haired men regarding each other. Then there was a miniscule nod, and a soft, honest smile spread on the younger man’s face. “Ok.”Mordred was careful as he removed Emrys‘ clothes. Fingers worshipping the very skin his god took as his, and never resting too long in one place. Mordred’s movements were measured and controlled. He coaxed Emrys into relaxation, a brush of fingers over a shoulder here, a firm hand guiding Emrys to the bed there. Worship on his lips, never spoken aloud, lest his skittish god flee.They managed to get on the bed gently, Emrys shuffling, skittish still, but never protesting the actions Mordred took. The younger one knew they didn’t kiss, and he would never presume to have a right to those lips, but he yearned. They were not his to touch though, thus he pressed a tender kiss to Emrys‘ forehead and smiled at him, cockily. “Relax. I know what I do.”He spoke so arrogantly and cheekily that Emrys could only laugh. His shoulders dropped and most of his nerves seemed to have evaporated as Emrys flicked Mordred’s forehead, but lay down on the sheets.Mordred laughed too, then crawled above Emrys and started to ensure the god would feel comfortable and relaxed. A hand trailing over hard planes, corded but lithe muscles, scars acquired by protecting that good-for-nothing King... Every time he saw them, Mordred had to keep his anger locked up.While his lips weren’t allowed to pledge his faithfulness to his god aloud, he pressed it in each kiss, branded his god with his love, knowing it was a poor substitute but the only one Mordred was allowed.Shuddering breaths, slight moans, a high-pitched noise - Mordred drank them all in. These noises were because of him, and him alone and no one, no-fucking-one , would ever get to hear his god like this. Mordred swore to the triple goddess herself he would slay whoever dared to touch Emrys.Steadily he worked his way from neck to fingertips, from shoulder to hip, to strong defined thighs and from there- “Nghh- Ah. By all that’s holy- Gods- Mordred!”From there he took his time to kiss, stroke and suck his god’s cock. Licking and kissing his balls, then down. Legs spread wider for him, pale slender hands holding tightly onto them to give Mordred the best access possible. Mordred savoured every second of this. A new experience, only his fantasies giving him a guideline on how to pleasure his god. He spread the cheeks apart, stared fascinated at the tight pucker he craved to take and then leaned in, licking hesitantly at first…“Oh by the triple- Plea- Mordre-”…and then boldly, after he heard and felt the reaction of the man beneath him. Mordred was tempted to make Emrys come like this: his tongue toying with the tight rim, steadily invading, claiming, a finger aiding him. But he needed more - the selfish beast inside him couldn’t be contained anymore and so stopped a moment maybe two before the other spilled.A whimper, soft, desperate breathless... Mordred needed more. He drew back, and watched his god’s face keenly. Tears ran down sharp features, blue eyes were hooded, cheeks flushed a deep red. Lips red and swollen from biting invited him to kiss.Surprised by Emrys‘ reaction, Mordred allowed a moment of calm to settle over them. Then he summoned his oil - the potion Emrys brought with him - and coated his fingers. Knowing firsthand how painful it could be, he took extra care to coat his dick and the hole he yearned to enter.All the while he never let his lips leave Emrys‘ skin.Finally, though, he couldn’t wait any longer and positioned himself perfectly between those legs - sadly he had to let go of the nipple he was sucking at that moment. Mordred wanted to make sure he would be able to enter without any fumbling. He needed to make it clear to Emrys that he was a suitable lover.This was why when he finally bottomed out, he had to use all of his self-control to not simply spill.Those velvety walls felt like heaven, and the picture beneath him must have been painted by all the gods together, or maybe it just was Emrys‘ natural ethereal beauty. Head thrown back, his beautiful long neck on display, a flush covering his cheeks and reaching his collarbone. Eyes framed by dark long lashes were nearly fully closed, but a slim sliver of blue shone through. Mouth open in a soundless scream. Shoulders drawn back, back arching, pushing his hips against Mordred’s, hands fisted in the sheets.They both needed a moment to calm down. Mordred took the time to contain his beast again. He couldn’t - he wouldn’t - let himself ruin this.Then Mordred began in earnest, gaining soft whispered pleads of “more” or demanding taunts: “You can do better” or even slight moans of praise: “Perfect- Yes this.”Soon though, Mordred was close - how could he not be with his childhood hero, his god , around his cock. He moaned low, greedy. Pounding and pounding and pounding, but always careful to keep Emrys comfortable, to make him feel cared for. All the other times had finally paid off, so Mordred kept his carnal beast at bay.He didn’t dare to spill inside - he hadn’t planned to, as that would also lift the bond he had given so much to create. But Emrys locked his legs around Mordred’s waist, pushing him in deeply, arching his back and moaning his name, and Mordred was gone.Pushing his seed deep inside Emrys was something Mordred would never forget. Magic surged from within his very core and connected with Emrys‘ own, asking and begging to be seen. And Emrys? That beautiful, merciful god actually gently nudged back.Mordred barely managed to catch himself above Emrys, panting and sweaty and blissed out. He pulled out, fascinated by the sight of his seed spilling from the swollen hole. Emrys‘ legs fell heavy onto the sheets, and Mordred’s gaze snapped up. He feared the magic having dissolved would leave Emrys with clarity as to who it was that caused all this, but instead of anger or revulsion - or any such negative emotion - shyness and bliss warred on the god’s face.“This... thank you,” murmured Emrys softly, head turned, face half hidden in the pillow.The younger man smiled softly and did his best to get up. “Don’t thank me. It was my pleasure, Emrys. I will get a cloth to-”“Don’t bother..” a flash of gold and they were both clean again. Emrys sat up with a wince but no complaint and got dressed, as was usual for them.Mordred hated him for leaving that night.The next evening there was a knock, Emrys walking in, a potion delivery the usual, feeble excuse. A shy kiss on Mordred’s cheek with a request for a picnic followed.Mordred dared to hope.