Merlin found him the next morning in the grove near the castle half-dressed and strategically bruised, the outline of teeth in his neck and his stomach, mouth stained with wine and surrounded with flowers, blue eyes glassy and content, the picture of debauched satiation. Merlin washed away the touch of other hands and other mouths, didn't look at the mark of fingernails on his inner thighs and back, the mark of a hoof on his hip, and pretended not to wonder if Arthur could ever be content with a human when he'd lain with a god.
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O.O ...meep.