FIC: Champagne from a paper cup (is never quite the same) 2/4
12 September 2010
Goals Needed to Break Record: 29
“Merlin!”
Merlin paused in his conversation with Gaius and turned toward Percival’s voice. His eyes widened as he saw the giant keeper rushing across the pitch toward him.
“What on earth?” he heard his uncle mutter just before Percival bent down to seize Merlin about the knees.
“Oi!,” he yelled when Percival stood, hoisting him over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Put me down!”
Percival just laughed and set off back toward the center of the pitch. Merlin scowled when even Gaius started chuckling, waving at Merlin and heading for the training room.
“Where are we going?” Merlin asked his captor. He knew it was useless to struggle, because Percival was built like a brick house and it wouldn’t make any difference.
He could hear Gwaine laughing, so he assumed that he was being transported to his extremely annoying friend. Percival set him down a moment later, and then grabbed him again quickly to steady him when all the blood rushed out of Merlin’s head.
“All right there, Merlin?” Gwaine asked. Merlin glared at him.
“What was all that about?”
Next to Gwaine, Leon laughed loudly.
“I asked Percival to get you. I didn’t know he’d be such a caveman about it, though.”
“Lazy arse,” Merlin grumbled, kicking Gwaine’s ankle before flopping down on the grass next to him. It was still warm for September, and they were seated in a haphazard circle, all the other players Merlin had become friendly with: Leon, Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival.
Sitting off to the side a bit, watching them all warily, was Arthur.
They hadn’t spoken at all since their altercation. Arthur tended to pretend that Merlin didn’t exist whenever they were around each other. Unfortunately, it was nearly impossible for Merlin to do the same. Aside from the fact that Arthur’s face was on the telly and in the tabs daily, Merlin couldn’t help seeing him when he was working.
It’d started to sting a bit, because Arthur seemed to get on just fine with everyone else. Merlin always saw him with his teammates, or with Gaius, throwing his head back and laughing his stupid, hearty laugh.
And then Merlin would see him with his fans, or watch him coaching a group of under-privileged youths on one of the club’s charity days, or hear about him visiting sick children in hospital, and it became much more difficult to judge him so harshly.
Anyone who did things like that couldn’t be all bad, could they? Merlin couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was wrong with him that he was the only person that Arthur didn’t seem interested in charming.
(“It’s not fair,” he’d complained to Elena one night over a basket of chips. “It’s not as though I’m a bad person. I’m not. I’m very nice.”
“It’s the sexual tension,” Elena had said matter-of-factly. “You’re both dying to shag each other and have no idea how to go about it.”
And really, he should’ve known better than to complain to Elena. She was of the opinion that he and Arthur were destined for an Epic Gay Romance and that all of this was some sort of bizarre foreplay.)
He wasn’t sure she was entirely wrong, though. Every so often the skin on the back of his neck would prickle, and he’d look up and around in time to catch Arthur’s eyes darting away from him, or to see him suddenly fascinated by something in Merlin’s vicinity.
He couldn’t deny that he himself was attracted to Arthur-he was gorgeous, after all. He hated it, but Arthur was so pretty, and when he was laughing or smiling Merlin often found it difficult to look away.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, Merlin’s magic seemed to love Arthur. Just like it had that first day, it would start humming restlessly under his skin whenever Arthur was nearby. It was doing it now, and Merlin caught himself staring at the blond, who was staring right back at him. Merlin scowled and flung himself back onto the grass, crossing his arms over his face.
He realized his mistake too late. Gwaine let out a whoop, and then he was on top of Merlin, trying to wrestle his arms behind him.
“Stop it, you wanker,” Merlin said, laughing, trying to avoid Gwaine’s restraining grip. He'd gotten used to this-Gwaine enjoyed ambushing Merlin for impromptu wrestling sessions.
Merlin didn’t mind all that much. Rolling around on the ground with hot blokes was something he thoroughly enjoyed. And he was no pushover, as he proved when he managed to roll Gwaine over and pin him face down on the pitch, letting out a whoop of triumph.
“Take that!” he crowed, and Lancelot let out a loud laugh.
“Should we leave you two alone?” he smirked, and Elyan reached over and punched him on the shoulder.
“Making dirty jokes, Lance? Obviously you’ve been spending too much time with Gwaine.”
Lancelot was married to Elyan’s sister, a lovely teacher named Gwen. Merlin had immediately loved Gwen, and she and Lance made a ridiculously perfect couple. He went to grin at Lance, but was distracted by Arthur, who stood up abruptly and brushed his hands off.
“I’ll you see lot tomorrow,” he said before setting off for the locker room. Merlin frowned after him.
“Honestly, do I smell or something?” he asked, raising his arm to sniff underneath. “What is his problem with me?”
“You punched him in the face,” Gwaine said, heaving to the side and dumping Merlin half onto the grass and half onto Leon.
“Sorry,” Merlin said, righting himself. “And that was nearly two months ago. And he started it.”
Leon shrugged. “Still. He won’t admit it, but I think he’s pretty ashamed of what happened. It really wasn’t like him.”
Merlin squinted at him. Leon was engaged to Morgana, and they’d dated for years prior to that, so he knew Arthur pretty well.
“He’s got a funny way of showing it,” Merlin groused, wrapping his arms around his knees.
“What d’you want, flowers?” Percival asked, chewing on a blade of grass. Merlin had thought him a bit dim at first, with his brawn and dopey grin, but he was actually quite shrewd.
“’Course not,” Merlin said, but he could feel himself blushing a bit. The thought of Arthur giving him flowers was weirdly unsettling. “He could stop running away every time I come into the same room as him, though.”
“He’ll come around,” Leon said, pushing up off the grass. “Come on, let’s go play some table football.”
Merlin rolled his eyes. The table had been installed a week ago, and everyone was utterly obsessed with it. “No thanks,” he said, letting Gwaine haul him to his feet. “I’ve got to go home and do some work.”
“Ah yes,” Gwaine said, slinging an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “School first, play later. Maybe you can come out with us later.”
“Isn’t there a match tomorrow?” Merlin asked, letting Gwaine lead him toward the clubhouse.
“Tomorrow night,” Elyan called before he and Percival raced off, presumably to be the first ones at the table. Gwaine abandoned him a moment later, their friendship no match for the call of table footie.
“Idiots,” he muttered, following them inside.
Thirty minutes later, he was nearly done straightening everything and packing up when he heard a sound behind him. He turned to see Arthur standing in the doorway. Merlin had assumed he’d gone home, but he’d obviously been training, because his skin was flushed and his hair still damp with sweat.
Merlin ignored the way his stomach squirmed nervously and schooled his face into a bored expression.
“Something you needed?” he asked, proud at how even his voice was, even as his magic perked up to take notice of Arthur’s presence.
“Where’s Gaius?” Arthur asked, looking around the room, as though Merlin was hiding him in a cupboard or something.
“He’s left already.”
“Oh,” Arthur said, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. God, what was it that made him act so oddly around Merlin?
“Yeah, and I’m getting ready to leave myself, so unless you needed something-“
“My shoulder,” Arthur blurted suddenly, surprising Merlin into silence.
“What’s wrong with it?” Merlin asked, trying to sound professional, but it was difficult with Arthur standing there looking flustered.
“I’ve got a twinge,” Arthur said. “It happens sometimes. Gaius has a salve he uses for it.”
“Easy enough,” Merlin said, waving his arm at one of the tables. “Hop on.”
Arthur just eyed him dubiously. Irritated, Merlin said, “Or don’t, but decide either way because I’d like to leave sometime today.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, but he grabbed at the back of his shirt and pulled. Completely of their own volition, Merlin’s eyes tracked the hem as it rode up Arthur’s flat stomach and chest. He yanked it off over his head, leaving his hair a mess. “No reason to be rude,” he said, but he only sounded mildly irritated.
"Of course not, because you're always so delightful," Merlin muttered, tearing his eyes away from Arthur's torso and turning back to the supply cupboard. The back of his neck prickled, and Merlin looked back over his shoulder to find Arthur studying him carefully, not bothering to turn his eyes away this time.
He turned away quickly, feeling his cheeks start to heat. Damn it, Arthur Pendragon was not going to see him blush like some sodding schoolgirl. He rooted around until he found something that looked like it might be useful.
"This it?" he asked, tossing the jar at Arthur, half-hoping it'd bounce off his nose or something, but the wanker just plucked it smoothly out of the air. He opened it and gave it a sniff.
"That's not it."
He strode over to where Merlin was standing and peered into the cupboard. The sudden invasion of his personal space startled him. He hadn’t been this close to Arthur since the fight, and he could feel the warmth radiating off Arthur's (naked, very naked) skin.
He took a quick step away, wanting distance from the warmth and from Arthur's smell. He was certain sweat wasn't ever supposed to smell that good.
Arthur glanced at Merlin, a quick flick of his eyelashes, before scanning the contents of the cupboard and pulling another jar out. After a quick sniff, he held it out to Merlin.
"Here."
Unwilling to make eye contact just yet, Merlin reached out blindly, closing his hand around the jar, and Arthur's fingers along with it. They both jerked their hands back at the same time. The jar clattered to the floor, snapping Merlin out of his stupor.
"Clumsy," Arthur said, smirk evident in his voice.
"Piss off."
Embarrassed, Merlin crouched to retrieve the jar, using the time to regain his composure. His fingers were actually tingling where they'd brushed Arthur's, his magic swirling around happily. It was very unsettling.
Arthur just snorted in response and walked back over to the table, hoisting himself up onto it. Merlin took a moment to glare at his back and then followed, stopping to grab a stool.
He set it down by the table and used it to climb up behind Arthur, kneeling so that he was at a proper angle to work on Arthur's shoulder. His balance was a bit shaky at first, so he automatically placed a hand on Arthur to steady himself.
Merlin froze as his palm tingled again. His magic had been active since Arthur had appeared at the door, but he was surprised to feel it surge through him now. It started deep within his sternum and then rushed down his arm toward Arthur, all without any effort on his part.
He snatched his hand back, looking down at it. His magic never, ever acted on its own. Even when he was actively preparing to use it, it stayed where it was, pulsing quietly until Merlin was ready to direct it. But now it was restless, refusing to retreat, buzzing under his skin as though angry at him for thwarting its attempt to get to Arthur.
Curious, he put his hand back on Arthur's shoulder. The buzzing immediately changed to a happy sort of hum and once again surged forward toward Arthur. He tried pulling it back to a more subtle level. This was more than he'd ever used on anyone, and there was no way Arthur wouldn't notice. It eventually responded, but it was a struggle.
Arthur threw a questioning look back over his shoulder, shaking Merlin out of his musings.
"Sorry," he said, reaching for the salve, "got distracted."
"For someone who was in such a rush to leave, you're moving rather slowly."
Merlin smeared the salve on Arthur's shoulder without warming it first, as he normally would've done. Arthur jumped, shooting him a glare. Merlin just smiled and started rubbing it in, moving his thumb in slow, soothing circles.
Putting his free hand on Arthur's other shoulder to steady him, Merlin worked the salve in, quickly finding and isolating the aggravated muscle. He pressed hard on it with his thumb, and Arthur let out a grunt.
"All right?" Merlin asked.
"Yeah," came the response, but Merlin could see him wincing as he applied more pressure.
"You know, since it keeps bothering you, you should probably stop lifting until it clears up," Merlin commented, starting to sweat from the effort of holding back the swell of magic inside him.
"Yes, mum, thank you," Arthur said snottily. Merlin just rolled his eyes and focused back on his task.
Arthur's skin was surprisingly soft, supple as Merlin kneaded at it, rolling the heel of his hand across it again and again. He didn't do much massage therapy in general, but he'd always enjoyed the quiet repetitiveness of it; he found it soothing. This time was no different. He found himself starting to relax, his breathing getting deeper as he got more comfortable touching Arthur.
His grip on his magic also loosened, allowing it to slowly flow into Arthur. It was still more than he’d ever used on anyone, so he started kneading Arthur's other shoulder as well, hoping to spread out any effect it might have.
After a few minutes, Arthur's head drooped. Merlin finally felt him relax completely into the touch, which only served to highlight how rigidly Arthur had been holding himself.
"Feels good," he mumbled as Merlin's thumbs inched their way toward his neck.
"Guess I'm not completely useless after all," Merlin said, trying for light.
Arthur just took a deep breath in reply, drawing Merlin's attention to the breadth of his shoulders as they rose under his hands. He tried to keep himself from noticing other things, like the way the damp hair curled at the base of Arthur's neck, or the strangely fascinating knob at the top of his spine. All things that were entirely inappropriate to think of when he was touching Arthur in a somewhat intimate manner.
He pushed those thoughts away, concentrating on keeping his magic under control. It didn't seem to be having any ill effects so far, and Arthur didn't seem to notice. He just rolled with the movements of Merlin's hands, totally pliant.
Merlin kept at it until he couldn't feel any more tightness, and therefore couldn't justify continuing to touch Arthur. Reluctantly, he let go.
"Okay, I think that's--"
He was forced to cut himself off when he had to lunge to grab Arthur, who had lurched forward the moment Merlin's hands left him. Once he was sure Arthur's face wasn't going to smash into the floor, he scrambled down off the table and came around to Arthur's front, shaking his shoulder.
"Arthur. Arthur," he repeated, starting to panic.
He shook Arthur again, lifting his chin and smacking his cheek lightly with the back of his hand. He was having a bit of trouble holding Arthur up while he attempted to revive him; Arthur was heavy and it was all dead weight at the moment. Bloody hell, what if he'd put him into some sort of magical fucking coma?
Thankfully, after another agonizing moment, Arthur inhaled sharply and his eyes blinked open, focusing blearily on Merlin.
"Oh, thank God," Merlin said, shoulders sagging in relief. He kept his hands on Arthur's shoulders--he still looked a bit unsteady.
"What happened?" Arthur asked, passing a hand over his face.
"You tell me," Merlin said, ducking his face so he could look into Arthur's eyes. "Do you feel all right? You just...passed out."
"Fine," Arthur said, holding still while Merlin checked his pupils. "I feel good. Great, actually."
Merlin frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I think I just, I don't know--fell asleep for a minute."
Huh. Interesting. Merlin filed that reaction away for future reference. Outwardly, he put on a smug smile. "That good, was I?"
Arthur didn't say anything. His gaze was locked on Merlin's face, and Merlin was suddenly conscious of his hands on Arthur's bare skin. There was a buzzing under his skin again, though this time it didn't anything to do with magic. Merlin opened his mouth to say something, anything, to break the heavy moment, and to his complete astonishment, Arthur's gaze dropped to his mouth.
His heart started knocking about in his chest and he quickly stood, clearing his throat. Arthur blinked, as though in a stupor, and then a flush spread slowly across his cheeks.
"I should get going," he said, sliding off the table, staying as far away from Merlin as he possibly could given the limited amount of space.
Merlin was glad for the reprieve, but Arthur’s reaction still irked him a bit. It wasn't exactly a secret that Arthur slept with anything that moved; was Merlin really that repulsive?
"Yeah," he replied, annoyed.
Arthur shuffled around for a bit, his posture hunched while he gathered up his shirt. He made it to the door and then paused, looking back at Merlin.
"Thanks," he said, "for the--"
"Yeah sure, don't worry about it."
Another moment of awkward silence, and then the door clicked shut, leaving Merlin alone. He let out the breath he'd been holding and leaned back onto the table, trying to sort out what the hell had just happened.
2 October 2010
Camelot City vs. Camelot United
Goals Needed to Break Record: 23
Merlin hated Saturday afternoon matches. He was always busiest before a match, so he had to be at the stadium early and couldn’t sleep in. He’d been caught napping in the training room often enough that Gwaine started bring him huge caffeinated beverages to keep him awake.
“I love you,” Merlin said as he took the large cup from his friend. “How many shots this week?”
“Four,” Gwaine replied, shaking the rain out of his hair. “If your heart explodes from the caffeine jolt, I refuse to be held responsible.”
Merlin hummed happily, sipping at the hot liquid. He had opened his mouth to reply when Arthur walked into the training room, his stride faltering a bit when he saw the two of them standing together. He recovered quickly, nodding at them both before moving to his spot on the dressing bench.
Merlin felt the usual drop in his belly at Arthur’s appearance. Nearly three weeks had passed since that day in the training room, and things had been--interesting. He and Arthur still didn’t talk any more than was strictly necessary, but their interactions were less abrasive than they had been. Arthur didn’t seek him out, but he didn’t avoid him either. And Merlin often caught Arthur staring at him openly, and it was only when Merlin would move or say something that Arthur would jump and look away, embarrassed.
He himself was in a bit of a bad way. He still remembered the way Arthur’s skin felt, and how he’d smelled, and he kept catching glances of Arthur half-dressed in the training room. It had all blossomed into a bit of an embarrassing crush, which wasn’t at all helped on by the fact that Arthur was no longer being a complete pillock.
He didn’t realize he was staring until Gwaine cleared his throat, snapping Merlin out of his reverie.
“Sorry,” he said, “did you say something?”
Gwaine rolled his eyes, but thankfully didn’t comment. “I asked if you were going to come out and watch the match today.”
He’d been planning on napping, actually, but he didn’t want to admit that. He doubted he’d be able to now anyway, what with the gigantic coffee he was drinking.
“Oh. Yeah, I guess I could. Weather’s shit, though.”
“All you have to do is stand around in a nice, warm club jacket and watch. We actually have to run around in it.”
“Well, when you put it that way….”
He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was starting to really love following the matches. He didn’t get into it as much on the telly, but he loved watching live. The atmosphere in the stadium was always electric, especially at home where the club was undefeated. The cheer that erupted when the players walked out onto the pitch never failed to send a thrill down his spine.
He took his seat with the other club employees. Gaius was safely ensconced in his warm office, and they had emergency personnel on hand, so he could sit back and enjoy the match.
The crowd was extra fired up today. Arthur had scored in his last two matches, and they were all expecting another today. Arthur, too, had some extra life in his step, charging up and down the pitch, weaving effortlessly between defenders. He was creeping closer to the record with every game, and Merlin couldn’t help but get caught up in it. Secretly, of course.
Though when Arthur found the back of the net to break a tie in the eighty-first minute, Merlin cheered just as loudly as everyone else.
Merlin had just finished securing an ice pack to Elyan’s shoulder when a knock came at the door.
He looked over to see Arthur standing there, looking a bit awkward. He’d been substituted immediately after his goal, so he was in a hoody and tracksuit bottoms rather than his kit. Elyan nudged Merlin as he slid off the table and clapped Arthur on the back as he scooted past him. Merlin cleared his throat.
"Gaius is up in his office, if you're looking for him." Even though almost everyone else had started coming to Merlin first, Arthur still worked exclusively with Gaius.
"Oh. Right. Actually, I--uh, I was wondering if you had a moment to spare," Arthur said, sounding uncertain.
"Sure," he replied, standing, "what did you need? Shoulder bothering you again?”
“What? No. No, it’s fine. Hasn’t bothered me since you worked on it, actually.”
He’d known that, of course, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit smug about it. But if Arthur wasn’t here for that, what did he want?
“Something else, then?”
Arthur sighed, frustrated. “Well, if you’d just let me speak without asking any questions-“
“Fine, fine,” Merlin said, putting his hands up. He didn’t particularly feel like dealing with any awkwardness at the moment. But if that was what Arthur wanted….
Arthur shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, sorry. I just-I wanted to say that-I made a mistake, the way I acted that first day.”
Merlin’s eyebrows shot up. For all that Arthur had saved his job, he’d never actually apologized to Merlin. “Are you apologizing?”
Arthur frowned, looking a bit put out. “I’m not actually a complete arse, Merlin; I know when I’ve behaved inappropriately.”
His face was bright red. Arthur might know when he’d behaved inappropriately, but Merlin could tell that he didn’t often admit it. Merlin didn’t want to belittle the effort.
“No, I-sorry, I appreciate it.” He waited a moment before continuing. “I’m sorry, too, for my part in it. Even though you did start it.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes, but Merlin could see the corner of his mouth twitch. That made Merlin smile, and for the first time since-well, ever, he felt himself relax in Arthur’s presence.
Arthur smiled, too, briefly, before the nervous look was back on his face. He licked his lips before continuing. “I don’t know if Gaius told you, but I’ve had some problems with my knee, and....“
The change of topic was so quick that Merlin blinked, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his gut. “You do know that I’m required to help you, don’t you? It’s my job. There was no reason to try and butter me up beforehand.”
“What? No!” Arthur protested immediately, “I didn’t-I wasn’t ‘buttering you up’ so you’d look at my knee.” He looked so outraged that Merlin would dare question his sincerity that Merlin immediately felt guilty. Arthur’s expression hardened. “Forget that I brought it up.”
He turned to leave. Merlin realized that if Arthur left, whatever fragile truce they’d just managed would break, and any chance of moving past this weird awkwardness between them would be gone.
“Wait,” he said, “I’m sorry. You’re right, that wasn’t fair.” When Arthur turned back, nodding stiffly in acknowledgment, Merlin prompted, “Your knee?”
Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It bothers me. Every day.”
“What happened to it?”
“I had a bad fall when I was younger, tore some of the ligaments.”
Merlin could tell that he didn’t want to talk about it. “What have you and Gaius been doing for it?”
Arthur came further into the room, crossing his arms over his chest. “I think he’s done everything he can do, short of sending me for surgery. Which I plan to do,” he added quickly, “but for obvious reasons, I can’t do it until the season is over.”
Merlin cocked his head. “If he’s been working on it, and it hasn’t helped, why ask me?”
“Uh, well,” he started, scratching the back of his neck. “Like I said, my shoulder. Gaius had been working on that too, but it always came back. Since you worked on it, it’s felt fine. I just thought you might have a different approach.”
Merlin watched Arthur carefully. He looked miserable in a way that told Merlin this was really bothering him. Trying to fill the silence, Arthur pressed on.
“I know there’s no quick fix, yeah? I just wondered if there was anything you’d studied in school, some-I don’t know, new treatment method or something that might get me through to the end of the season.”
Arthur kept talking, compelled by nerves, or awkwardness. Merlin realized that this was something out of the ordinary; that this man hated asking for help or showing any kind of weakness. The fact that he’d put himself out there to Merlin softened him.
“All right,” Merlin said, “I’ll take a look.”
“Really?”
Arthur looked so surprised that Merlin had to laugh. “If you were so convinced that I was going to say no, why’d you even bother asking?”
Arthur’s answering grin was rather disarming. “I don’t know. I didn’t think, given the way I’ve behaved-“ At that, his grin faltered a bit.
“Arthur.”
“Yeah?” Merlin inclined his head at the padded massage table. “Oh, right.”
Arthur walked over to the table, reaching for the waistband of his tracksuit bottoms. Merlin’s mouth went dry when he realized what Arthur was doing. He looked away, ignoring the rustling sounds that indicated that Arthur was undressing. Instead, he concentrated on focusing his magic, which had been flitting all over the place for the past several minutes.
When he felt composed enough, he turned to face Arthur. Who was sitting--no, lounging--on the table in his hoody and a pair of grey boxer briefs, which did wonders for showcasing his powerful thighs. Merlin paused long enough that a smirk bloomed on Arthur’s face.
“See something you like, Merlin?”
And just like that, the uncertain, vulnerable Arthur was gone, replaced by the twat Merlin had sort of come to know. Merlin found he didn’t mind as much; it helped him forget how attracted he was to the idiot.
“I know you’re under the impression that everyone on the planet wants to shag you,” Merlin said lightly, approaching the table, “but I assure you, I have standards.”
“Such as?”
“It’s your right knee, yeah?” Merlin asked, ignoring the question.
“How did you know?”
“You favour it,” Merlin replied, placing one hand underneath Arthur’s knee and the other on top. His palms immediately began to buzz at the contact.
“Been watching me, have you?”
“Oh my God, will you shut up?” Merlin said, though he couldn’t quite keep his lips from quirking into a smile. He had to give the man credit-his ego was astronomically large.
Miraculously, Arthur did stay quiet as Merlin led him through a series of exercises, which were mainly for show. Merlin could tell immediately through his magic how bad Arthur’s knee was. The ligaments were damaged, and years’ worth of scar tissue had built up around them. It was a miracle that it’d held up this long.
Merlin opened his eyes briefly to glare at Arthur. “Are you mental? I can’t believe you’ve been running on this.”
“It’s bad, I know,” Arthur said, chewing on his lip. “Do you think you can do anything?”
Merlin sighed, running a hand through his hair. He could, of course, fix it with his magic. But to avoid being obvious, he’d have to do it over time.
“I mean, I can try. There are strengthening exercises you can do to take pressure off your knee, and I can try and break up the scar tissue. But it’s a vicious cycle, see, because you have surgery to get rid of the scar tissue, but the surgery creates more scar tissue, etcetera. The best way to go about it is to be proactive when the injury first happens, and….”
He trailed off, because Arthur was watching him, fascinated.
“What?” he asked, self-consciously.
Arthur blinked. “Nothing. Uh, that’s just the most I’ve ever heard you speak, is all.”
“Oh, because you’ve tried so hard to engage me in conversation?”
“I apologized!”
“For attacking me. I don’t recall one for being a complete prat since then.”
Arthur threw his head back and laughed loudly, stunning Merlin into silence. He trailed off into chuckling, shaking his head.
“There really is something about you, Merlin.”
“So you’ve said,” Merlin replied, trying not to stare too hard at Arthur’s smiling face.
“Indeed,” Arthur said, swinging his legs off the side of the table. “So, you’ll help me work on it?”
He looked so hopeful, and it was so different from the stiff, standoffish Arthur he’d gotten used to that Merlin caved immediately.
“Yeah. We can start on Monday.”
“Brilliant!” Arthur hopped off the table and reached for his bottoms. Once he’d pulled them on, he placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. It felt warm, and very large.
“Thank you, Merlin. I mean it,” he said, looking Merlin straight in the eye. He could only nod in response, his heart beating a bit too fast, watching as Arthur walked to the door. Once he was gone, Merlin sat down hard in the nearest chair.
“Bugger.”
26 November 2010
Goals Needed to Break Record: 16
“Arthur Pendragon’s outside!”
Merlin’s head snapped up from where he’d been packing his bag to the door of the student lounge. The room was mostly full of his course mates, so they all stopped to look at him before bolting for the door. He went back to packing as he pondered the best means of escape.
The last time Arthur had done this, Merlin had tried sneaking out of a side entrance, only to find that it was equipped with a very loud alarm. Not only had it frightened ten years off his life, but the entire university had shown up to investigate. Arthur had laughed about it for a good twenty minutes, and had only recently stopped talking about it.
No, the best way to go about it was right out the front door. He could try to blend in with the inevitable swarm of people trying to get Arthur’s attention, and then slip away unnoticed. He yanked his beanie down over his ears a bit harder than necessary.
“Stupid, attention-grubbing prats who love to humiliate their mates,” he grumbled as he hoisted his pack onto his shoulder. “Should’ve just worked at hospital this year, like a normal person.”
He couldn't complain, though, not really. Since he’d started “therapy” on Arthur’s knee, things between them had improved significantly. Arthur was feeling better every day and had decided that this made Merlin worthy of his friendship. He’d started following Merlin around after practices and matches, nattering on about this and that.
At first, Merlin had been confused, wondering at the sudden turnaround. He’d mentioned as much to Morgana when she’d joked about their budding friendship.
“It was inevitable, really,” had been her reply, watching as Arthur led the other players through drills.
“How d’you mean?” he’d asked, glancing at her warily. He liked Morgana, he really did, but the way her mind worked frightened him at times.
“He cares entirely too much what other people think of him,” she’d continued. “He’s gotten away with acting like a complete arse his entire life because no one’s ever called him on it. You did, and in grand fashion.”
“So?”
“So he’s never had someone openly dislike him before.”
“I find that hard to believe. Half the league hates him. And look at all his relationships; they can’t all have ended well.”
“Don’t believe everything that you read,” she’d said sharply, throwing him a quick glance. “And none of those people matter - they’re expected to dislike him. You’re supposed to be on his side.”
Merlin frowned. “So you’re saying that I’m some sort of challenge he’s decided to try and conquer?”
“I’m saying,” Morgana said slowly, like she thought he was an idiot, “that he sees that everyone likes you, and that you like them, and perhaps he’s realized that it was his attitude that was the problem, not you.”
Merlin hadn’t been entirely convinced, but he’d slowly started seeing Morgana’s point. There were subtle differences in Arthur when he was alone with them in the clubhouse as opposed to when he was out in front of the media. His cocky, confident swagger disappeared nearly as soon as the cameras did, or if it didn’t it was because he knew how much it irritated Merlin.
And he really, really loved to irritate Merlin.
Thus Merlin’s current predicament - Arthur had found out how much Merlin hated being the centre of attention. Rather than leave it, he’d taken it upon himself to try and bring Merlin “out of his shell.” Which was a lovely thought, except to Arthur that meant embarrassing Merlin in public as often as possible.
He peeked out into the hallway. Thankfully, there was a fairly steady stream headed for the front door. He shuffled out into the mix, trying to blend in with people who were near his height so he wouldn’t stick out too much.
When he got outside, the biting wind nearly took his breath away. It was freezing, but there Arthur was, standing on the sidewalk next to his Aston Martin. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold, but he chatted and signed autographs and posed for pictures, smiling widely for the camera. This wasn’t a fake persona he put on, Merlin knew. He truly loved interacting with his fans.
He hadn’t realized he’d stopped to stare until someone bumped him from behind, trying to get around him and down the steps. He shook himself and headed down the steps as well, but in the other direction.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Arthur. He just didn’t want to be seen at uni getting into Arthur’s car. He already attracted far too much attention due to his unique position. Once he was around the corner, or somewhere less crowded, he’d call Arthur to come get him.
The only problem was that Arthur had developed some sort of Merlin-radar that allowed him to sense Merlin’s presence when they were anywhere near each other. As a result, Merlin wasn’t halfway down the street before he heard a loud, “Oi!” behind him. He sped up, hoping it’d take Arthur a while to get away from his adoring masses.
Unfortunately, it was less than a minute before he heard Arthur’s stupid, flashy car starting up, and he knew that he was fucked.
“Merlin!” Arthur called, pulling up next to him and shouting out the passenger side window. “Get in out of the cold, you bloody idiot!”
Merlin shot him a brief glare before continuing on down the street hoping Arthur would get the hint. Obviously, he was giving the prat too much credit.
“Merlin!” he yelled again, this time leaning on his horn and making Merlin jump nearly of out his skin. “Merlin Emrys! You, with the ridiculous blue beanie on-“
“All right, all right,” Merlin shouted. People were stopping and openly staring, and he lunged for the door. He pulled his beanie down over his face and slid down in his seat until his knees jammed up against the dashboard.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Arthur said, sounding annoyingly chipper. “Safety first, Merlin. Put your seatbelt on. Come on, then, budge up.”
Horrifyingly, he felt Arthur lean close, reaching across him for the passenger side seatbelt. He sat up quickly, shoving the wool off his face.
“Oh my God,” Merlin said, batting him away. “Get off me, you oaf.”
People were starting to surround the car, taking pictures with their phones. Arthur seemed unconcerned, sitting sideways in his seat, watching Merlin with a solemn expression as Merlin did up his own restraint.
“Now, is that any way to talk to a friend? I’m just concerned for your safety, Merlin.”
He looked so earnest that Merlin found himself laughing, his irritation completely melting away. Arthur rewarded him with a grin.
“Now that you’ve kidnapped me, where are we going?”
Arthur shrugged. “I’m hungry. And I didn’t kidnap you-you got in the car willingly. There are witnesses.”
As if to prove the point, he honked and waved at the people surrounding the car as he pulled slowly away from the curb. Once they were free of the mess, Merlin let out a sigh, relaxing back into the heated seat he was growing entirely too fond of.
He glanced over at Arthur, who’d started talking about something that’d happened to him that morning. A worryingly familiar warmth crept into Merlin’s chest, one he’d been feeling often in Arthur’s presence.
Perhaps it wasn’t the heated seats he was growing fond of after all.
22 January 2011
Ealdor City vs. Camelot United
Goals Needed to Break Record: 11
As time went on, Gaius started giving Merlin more and more responsibility. The heavier workload combined with his teaching hours at uni left him with precious little free time. The spare time he did have he split between Elena, who was also busy and thankfully very understanding of him being a shite friend, and Arthur and his knights, as Merlin had taken to calling them affectionately.
As much as Merlin enjoyed being friends with Arthur, there were a few problems as well. In the beginning, Merlin had avoided going to really public places with Arthur, not wanting to get swept up in the frenzy that inevitably popped up wherever he went. But as Arthur and Gwaine and the others kept pushing for him to go eat with them, or to come out and drink with them, more and more Merlin found himself giving in.
Because Arthur was closer than ever to breaking the record, the media coverage was at an all-time high. The paparazzi started followed him wherever he went, and it felt like reporters were always shoving microphones into his face trying to get him to talk about his progress.
Arthur was a good sport about it-talking about himself was one of his favorite pastimes. Merlin wasn’t so thrilled. Pictures of him with Arthur and some of the others after pub nights had made the tabs twice in as many weeks.
(“Merlin!” Elena had yelled over the phone the first time. “You’re in The Camelot Sun!”
“Wha-?” Merlin had mumbled, because it was ungodly o’clock on a Sunday and she had woken him up.
“There’s a picture of you and Arthur--oh, and there’s Gwaine!--coming out of a pub last night!”
Merlin vaguely remembered flashes going off in their faces, but Gwaine had goaded him into seeing who could do the most shots. Merlin was part Irish, dammit, and he would not be drunk under the table by some poncey member of the peerage, so the details were a bit hazy.
“This is so exciting,” Elena continued, oblivious to the fact that Merlin was half-asleep and drooling into his pillow. “You know what this means, don’t you? You’re in an entourage!”
“Great, call you later,” Merlin said before hanging up on her and falling back to sleep).
Apart from Elena and his mum, though, Merlin making the tabs didn’t seem to matter much to anyone else. There was a bit of extra attention at uni from people he was sure would never talk to him otherwise, but generally, the administration seemed happy with him.
The other problem was Arthur himself. Even when they’d been on poor terms, Merlin had always suspected that there was more to Arthur, some part of him that was good hidden underneath all the bristle. He’d been right-the more Merlin got to know him, the more he realized that Arthur was kind, and generous, and quite a bit lovely.
Merlin was growing quite smitten with him.
There’d been another shift in their relationship. They still bickered, and Arthur still annoyed him at every possible opportunity, but it was different somehow. The change was subtle-touches that lingered a bit too long, or catching Arthur watching him when he was working with someone else.
It was all a bit maddening, because Merlin wasn’t sure if it was actually happening or if he was just projecting his feelings onto all their interactions.
It didn’t help that Morgana, Gwaine, and the others had taken to teasing him about it, saying that obviously it was destiny for Merlin and Arthur to have found each other. Merlin even suspected that Percival had some sort of pool going-he’d stumbled upon him and some of the others several times discussing something heatedly, only to have them clam up as soon as Merlin appeared, usually with Arthur.
For the most part, though, everything was going well, and Merlin was looking forward to putting it all out of his head for the day. It was a wet, rainy Saturday, and Merlin was at the stadium early. He was excited because the match that afternoon was against Ealdor City, which meant that he’d be seeing Will.
Will had been the first person aside from Gaius and his mother to find out about Merlin’s magic. Once Will had signed with Ealdor City and Merlin had gone off to Camelot for school, they’d barely seen each other, but they were always in touch.
But Will was staying in Camelot that night, so he was looking forward to catching up. And drinking. Lots and lots of drinking.
He was walking toward the training room, whistling to himself, when a football pinged off the back of his head. Lately, Arthur had developed a strange penchant for lobbing things at Merlin when he wasn’t looking, so he immediately assumed he was the culprit.
“Bloody OW!” he yelled, rubbing at the back of his head as he turned around. “Arthur, you can’t just--”
He stopped, gaping at Will, who was standing there grinning.
“Arthur?” he asked. “Mate, it’s been way too long since we’ve seen each other if you’re confusing me with that git.”
Merlin tried to hold his glare, but it was impossible as Will came over and enveloped him in a bear hug.
“It’s good to see you too, Will,” Merlin said dryly, hugging back just as fiercely. Will ruffled his hair as he released him.
“So how is it going?” Will asked. “You don’t go into much detail in your emails.”
“It’s really great,” Merlin said honestly. “I like it a lot.”
“Yeah? I hear you’re skivvying for The Prince now.”
“I’m not a skivvy,” Merlin said, giving him a shove. “I do serious work here. I’m actually very important.”
Will rolled his eyes, grinning. “Hey, you know who’s coming to the match today with my mum? Old Man Simmons.”
“Oh God,” Merlin said, looking around in mock terror. “Keep him away from me.”
Will laughed. Fuck, it was good to see him. “Yeah, he’s always hated you. Since you broke his back window when we were kids. You always were shite at football.”
“What? Me? If your big fat head hadn’t gotten in the way, the football never would’ve gone anywhere near his window!”
“You gotta admit, though--it was a great header.”
“Arse,” Merlin said, giving him another push, which resulted in Will pushing him back, which then resulted in a full out tussle, wherein Merlin found himself in a headlock, trying to catch his breath while laughing his arse off.
They both looked up, Merlin a little awkwardly given his current position, when they heard someone clear their throat. Arthur was standing there, eyeing them.
“Merlin,” he finally said, “what on earth are you doing?”
“Just catching up,” Merlin replied, shoving Will away and straightening up. He lifted a hand to his hair, trying to flatten it down.
“Catching up,” Arthur repeated, looking back and forth between them.
“Yeah, Will’s an old friend. I assume you know each other.”
Arthur smirked. “Vaguely. If I were you, I’d be focusing on the match, Turner.”
Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur’s posturing, but Will smirked right back. “Couldn’t help myself,” he said, throwing an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “Merlin and I have a lot to catch up on.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed a bit at that. “I was just looking for you, Merlin. I need you to come with me.”
Merlin frowned. “What for? I was just--”
“It’s all right, mate,” Will said, lifting his arm and clapping his hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “We’ve got all night to catch up, yeah?” He threw another look at Arthur when he said the last bit.
“Now, Merlin,” Arthur said, shooting a glare at Will before heading down the hallway to the training room.
“Prat,” Merlin muttered, glaring after him. He might’ve come a long way, but sometimes Merlin still wanted to throttle him. Will chuckled.
“Go on,” he said. “Better go see what His Highness wants. I’ll see you tonight.”
He gave Merlin’s hair another affectionate ruffle and then went in the other direction toward the visiting locker room. Merlin sighed, and went off to find out what the hell Arthur wanted.
“So. You and Pendragon.”
Merlin glanced up at Will briefly before going back to peeling the label off his bottle of cider. The match had ended in a tie, which suited Merlin just fine, especially since Arthur had scored Camelot’s lone goal. They were now at Merlin’s favorite pub, waiting for Elena to join them.
“What?”
“You and Pendragon,” Will repeated. “How long have you been…you know.”
Merlin looked up again to see Will making a gesture with his hands that probably represented some strange sex act Merlin had never heard of, because Will was a filthy pervert. He felt his cheeks heat.
“I don't even know what that’s supposed to mean,” he said, “but I can assure you, Arthur and I aren’t doing it.”
Will cocked his head. “Why not? I know he’s your type. And he obviously wants it.”
Merlin choked on the mouthful he’d just taken. “What?” he managed, before clearing his throat. “He does not. We’re just mates.”
“Yeah, okay,” Will said, rolling his eyes, “even you aren’t that oblivious, mate.” When Merlin continued to stare at him, he put his pint down slowly, eyes widening. “Oh fuck, you are, aren’t you? You have no idea.”
“There are no ideas to be had,” Merlin said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You’re mad. He obviously wants to shag you. Shag you rotten, even.”
“You think everyone wants to shag everyone.”
“They do,” Will said. “They just won’t admit it.”
“Admit what?”
They both looked up at Elena. “Sorry I’m late, chaps,” she said, “the taxi took forever.”
Will leaned over and gave her a big, wet kiss, laughing when she squealed and wiped at her cheek with her sleeve. “It’s good to see you, love.”
“You, too. Now, who won’t admit what?”
“Merlin won’t admit that Arthur wants to shag him.”
“Because he doesn’t!” Merlin exclaimed. “Come on, you know better than to listen to him,” he said to Elena, whose eyes had gone nearly completely round.
“No!” she said, pointing at him. “I said it, didn’t I? I’ve been saying all along that you two were destined for a Big Gay Romance!”
“Well, yes, but you’re a bit mental, so….”
She glared at him and then turned to Will. “What happened? What did you see?”
“Oh, it was great,” Will said, settling into storytelling mode. Merlin groaned and buried his face in his hands. “We were just messing about at the stadium, yeah? And Arthur just comes stomping over to drag Merlin away from me, like I was getting too handsy with his property.”
“It wasn’t like that at all!” Merlin protested. “It wasn’t like that,” he repeated to Elena, who’d started flapping her hands about in excitement. “He just needed my help.”
“Lies,” Will said. “He was marking his territory.”
“Oh, for-he was not.”
“I am telling you, if we were dogs-“
“Please don’t even finish that sentence.”
“Whatever, you know what I mean.”
It continued that way for a while longer before they finally took pity on him and changed the subject. After a few more bottles of cider, he was feeling pleasantly buzzed and sat back to watch his friends argue over every topic under the sun. He’d learned a while ago that Will and Elena were incapable of agreeing on anything, and it was always very entertaining when they got together. He smiled to himself, content to be out drinking with his two best friends.
His mobile buzzed in his pocket a short while later. He pulled it out and flipped it open, finding a message from Gwaine.
OMG whr the fuck R U??
He grinned-for someone so high born, Gwaine had an appalling love of text speak.
Dragon’s Den. Why?
K, thx.
He assumed that meant that Gwaine, and probably Arthur, would be joining them. He looked at Elena, still gesturing wildly in an attempt to get her point across. He briefly considered telling her that Gwaine was coming, but then decided against it. It served her right for siding with Will about Arthur.
He knew it the moment the players arrived in the pub. There was a commotion from the direction of the door, which drew Elena’s attention. The colour drained from her face, and looking a bit frantic, she turned to Merlin.
“Arthur’s here,” she hissed. “With Gwaine!”
“Oh?” he replied, unconcerned. “Fancy that.”
“Why, you little-“
She paused, seeming to think twice about cursing him out before deciding to flee instead. She tried scooting out of the booth, but Will grabbed her arm.
“Oh, no you don’t. Time to face the music. Maybe you can both get laid tonight!”
“Let me go, you oaf!”
She rounded on Will and walloped him on the top of the head just as Gwaine arrived.
“Still charming the ladies, I see,” Gwaine said, his eyebrow arched. Elena froze, and Will just rubbed his head, smiling openly.
“She’s been beating me up since we were kids,” he announced. By now, Elena was blushing bright red, so Merlin decided to cut in.
“Gwaine, this is Elena. Elena, Gwaine.”
“A pleasure,” Gwaine said, taking the hand that Elena offered shyly. He bent down and kissed her knuckles, smiling at her. Merlin only had a brief moment to enjoy her discomfort before someone ploughed into him from the side.
“Ow,” he said lamely, knowing that Arthur would just laugh if he made a fuss.
“Come on, budge over,” Arthur said. “Morgana and Leon are here as well.”
“There you are, Merlin,” Morgana said, right on cue.
“Been here all night,” Merlin replied, lifting his bottle off the table and saluting her and Leon.
“Arthur’s been dragging us all up and down the high street looking for you,” she said, sliding in next to her stepbrother while Leon pulled over an extra chair.
“I have not,” Arthur protested immediately. “I just couldn’t find a place I liked.”
“Because Merlin wasn't there,” she countered, unwrapping her shawl. Merlin noted with more than a little amusement that Arthur was squirming uncomfortably next to him.
“Well, thankfully Gwaine had the sense to ask,” he said, nudging Arthur, who nudged him back and set off a small shoving match.
“Oh, there they go,” Morgana said, sounding long-suffering. “Really, you two, go shag already. All this foreplay is getting tiresome.”
“Aha!” Will and Elena shouted simultaneously while Merlin and Arthur spluttered in protest. Merlin pointed at Elena in warning.
“Nothing out of you, or I’ll tell Gwaine about-“
Arthur let out a yelp next to him. “Bloody hell,” he said, leaning forward. “She kicked me!”
“I’m sorry!” Elena wailed, looking mortified. “I was aiming for Merlin!”
Gwaine threw his head back and laughed out loud. Merlin chuckled as well.
“Careful,” Leon said, “this is our golden boy. Only eleven more to go after today, yeah?”
“Something like that,” Arthur muttered, suddenly interested in his pint. Merlin rolled his eyes.
“Oh, stop pretending to be modest. It doesn’t suit at all.”
“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur said, reaching up and flicking Merlin’s ear.
“Wanker,” he replied, rubbing at his ear.
Elena appeared to have recovered from her embarrassment, because she eyed them for a moment, assessing, before turning to Will and saying, “I see what you mean.”
“I told you,” Will said, smug.
Gwaine looked between the three of them. “Do tell.”
“No,” Merlin said. “Don’t you dare.”
She let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. I’ll just tell embarrassing stories about Merlin from our childhood then, shall I?”
The answer was a resounding “Yes!” from everyone at the table.
“Oh, for-“ Merlin muttered. He slumped back in his seat, resigning himself to a long, humiliating night.
“…and Merlin couldn’t find his pants for hours. They wound up in a tree-he had to go back later and fetch them.”
Everyone laughed uproariously, even Merlin. He’d had more to drink and therefore had left embarrassment behind a while ago. They’d all been exchanging stories; Merlin liked Morgana’s best, as they were about Arthur and Leon’s misadventures as teenagers.
Arthur had gone mostly quiet next to him, aside from the occasional chuckle. He’d also had quite a bit to drink since they arrived, and was slumping into Merlin’s space, their shoulders pressed together. Merlin, in his drunken haze, found that he didn't mind a bit.
“All right, you lot,” Morgana eventually said, “we should all turn in. We’ve a coach ride to North Umbria tomorrow evening, and I suspect you’re going to want as much time as possible to sleep this off.”
There was a collective groan, but everyone made to get up.
“We’ll go out the back,” Morgana said, going into her bossy PR persona. “I’m going to hire some cars and then get rid of any photographers. Don’t move until I say it’s clear.”
Merlin tried to salute her, but just wound up poking himself in the cheekbone.
“Ridiculous,” she muttered before striding away. The rest of them stumbled out of the booth, bumping into each other as they tried to get their legs back. Merlin rested his head on Elena’s shoulder.
“Want to go back to mine?” she asked, patting his hair absently. “It’s closer.”
“Actually, Merlin,” Gwaine cut in, “I think you’d better see about getting the prince home.”
Merlin turned to look at Arthur, who’d sat back down and rested his head on his arms.
“Why me?” Merlin said.
“It’s your turn, mate,” Gwaine replied. “I took care of him in Mercia and he puked all over my shoes.”
Merlin turned to Leon. “What about you and Morgana?”
“Sorry. Morgana and I are going home to shag our brains out,” Leon said, clapping Merlin on the shoulder.
“Ew,” Merlin replied, wrinkling his nose. “Too much information.”
Leon laughed. Merlin turned back to Elena. “What about you? I cannot abandon you in your drunken state.”
She waved a hand at him. “Go on, then. Like you’d be any help. I’ll be all right.”
“I’ll see her home,” Gwaine said, smiling. Merlin narrowed his eyes. After Elena had gotten over her initial shock, they’d been sniffing around each other all night.
“All right, but no hanky panky,” Merlin said, wagging a finger at his friend.
Elena squeaked and turned bright pink, but Gwaine just nodded and said, “Yes, sir.”
Merlin’s mobile buzzed then with the all clear from Morgana. He turned to Arthur.
“Come on, Pendragon, get up,” Merlin said, shoving at his shoulder. Arthur just mumbled and batted his hand away. Merlin plopped down next to him.
“Arthur, let’s go. Morgana has a car for us. I’m going to take you home.”
“’Kay.”
Arthur slid out after Merlin. They leaned heavily on each other as they made their way through the pub. No one bothered them, probably having been threatened with imminent death by Morgana.
By the time they got outside, Merlin was practically dragging Arthur after him. Morgana was getting everyone else settled, and then she turned to them. Her face brightened.
“The two of you, then? Brilliant!” She ushered them into the last taxi. She leaned her head into the window once they were settled. “Take care of him, Merlin.”
As soon as they pulled away from the curb, Arthur yawned and slid down onto his side, laying his head on Merlin’s thigh. He looked down as Arthur rubbed his cheek against his jeans, and a wave of affection overcame him. He rested a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and leaned back in his seat, watching the city streak by as they sped toward Arthur’s flat.
By the time they got to his door, Arthur had woken up some, but had given up entirely on supporting his own weight. His arm was draped around Merlin’s waist and he was laughing, his face buried against Merlin’s neck. Merlin clenched his jaw, trying to get the key in the lock.
“You could bloody help, you know,” he groused, shrugging Arthur away.
“Nah, you’re doing jes’ fine,” Arthur said, straightening up, his hand sliding from Merlin’s shoulder to the small of his back and resting there.
“Ha!” Merlin cried triumphantly as he felt the lock go. The door swung open and they stumbled into the dark flat. They landed against a nearby wall, Arthur knocking the breath out of Merlin.
“Oof,” he gasped, shoving at Arthur. “Get off, you prat.”
The door shut with a quiet click, plunging them into near total darkness. Arthur murmured a reply, shifting against him. He dropped his head, resting his forehead on Merlin’s shoulder.
“Let’s get you into bed,” Merlin said, trying to sound chipper even though it felt like someone had just unleashed a swarm of butterflies inside his ribcage. He was used to Arthur being handsy, but they’d never been close like this. Arthur’s bulk pinning him to the wall felt far too good for his sanity.
“Mmm, Merlin,” Arthur purred, rubbing his cheek against Merlin’s neck. The rasp of stubble made him shudder, and he felt entirely sober all of a sudden.
“Arthur-“
He stopped when Arthur nosed along his jaw. It was entirely too quiet in the flat, and all Merlin could hear was his own breathing, loud and a bit too rapid. Arthur lifted his head, and Merlin was still struggling to make out his expression in the dark when Arthur leaned forward and brushed his lips against Merlin’s.
He sucked in a breath, and Arthur paused for a moment before doing it again, this time licking at the corner of Merlin’s mouth.
Merlin went immediately hard, months of wanting Arthur combining with the alcohol to make him unbearably horny. He opened his mouth to say something, to tell Arthur that this was a bad idea, but Arthur just took the opportunity to sweep his tongue between Merlin’s lips.
Unsurprisingly, Arthur was an amazing kisser, even drunk off his arse. Merlin quickly found himself unable to do anything but cling to Arthur’s shoulders, trying not to rut against him while Arthur bit and licked at his lips. He tasted like the gin he’d been drinking all night, a fact that dimly registered somewhere in Merlin’s consciousness.
“Arthur,” he gasped, managing to pull his mouth away. Undeterred, Arthur dipped his head, sucking wet kisses down Merlin’s neck.
“Arthur,” he tried again, his cock twitching when Arthur found a particularly sensitive spot and latched on. “Oh fuck, we can’t do this.” He mustered the willpower to grab Arthur by his shoulders and push him away. “Not like this.”
His eyes had adjusted to the darkness well enough that he could see the considering look on Arthur’s face.
“You’re right,” he said eventually, his voice husky. But rather than release Merlin, Arthur reached down and grabbed his hand. Before his lust-addled brain could process what was happening, Arthur dragged him down the hall to his bedroom. He navigated the way with an ease that Merlin would’ve found suspicious had his brain not checked out as soon as Arthur kissed him.
He soon found himself on his back on Arthur’s bed. Before he could think to move, Arthur was on top of him, and then all thoughts of escape fled completely. He sank into the ridiculously plush mattress, Arthur’s weight holding him down. He had the thought that he should probably tell Arthur that this wasn’t what he meant, but then Arthur kissed him again and he just gave in.
He got his hands up under Arthur’s shirt, digging his fingers into the muscle of Arthur’s back. His skin was very warm, a bit damp, as he pressed his hips down against Merlin’s.
“Fuck, yes,” Merlin gasped when their erections rubbed together. He lifted his knees, locking his ankles around the backs of Arthur’s thighs and encouraging him to thrust again.
Arthur moaned against his ear as he rolled his hips, harder this time, and the sound of it nearly had Merlin going off in his pants, too turned on to worry about any kind of stamina. But then Arthur lifted himself, his hand scrabbling between them, pulling at the buckle on Merlin’s belt.
“Merlin…fuck…I need-“
“Yeah, okay-yeah,” Merlin said, and between them they managed to get both their jeans undone, pushing everything down just enough to free their erections. Merlin didn’t look-he couldn’t, not without coming and ending it all too soon. Arthur’s hips started moving again, the hot, hard length of him rubbing against Merlin’s stomach, next to his cock.
“Arthur, I can’t,” Merlin whined, tossing his head from side to side, biting his lip hard to keep from coming.
“No, don’t-come on, Merlin,” Arthur said, reaching down and wrapping a hand around both of them.
All it took was two strokes and Merlin was coming hard, crying out and arching up off the bed. Arthur followed almost immediately, panting loudly against Merlin’s neck as his come landed on Merlin’s stomach and chest, mixing with Merlin’s own.
Arthur kept stroking until they were both completely spent, and then he collapsed onto his side, tucked in close to Merlin. His hand rested low on Merlin’s belly, covered in their come. He seemed to realize this belatedly, because a few minutes later he lifted his hand to examine it.
“Ick,” he concluded, sitting up and pulling at his shirt, trying to get it over his head. Merlin watched sleepily as he used it to wipe them both clean before settling back down at Merlin’s side. The last thing Merlin felt before falling asleep was Arthur’s arm draping warmly over his stomach.
Chapter Three