Beyond the Neon Trees - Part 7 {Epilogue} (Big Bang 2011)
.: Seven Years Later :.
The sketch in his lap is nowhere near completion. He’s been brainstorming the idea with his department for weeks, arguing over the type of image that would be needed to really make their billboard advertisements snap. Yet after five hours in the office, and four more at home, the creative flow has managed to desert him, the sound of his mobile blaring out some non-descript galling tune a welcome relief.
“’Ello?” he asks, cradling his phone in the crook of his shoulder not bothering to check the ID as only one person would set his ringtone to that annoyingly irritating jingle.
“Merlin, my man, how are we?”
Ah, Gwaine. “Not bad, mate. We still on for tonight?”
“Yeah, that’s what I was ringing to tell you. Now Lance and Gwen are coming down and Percy’s gone and found himself some bird, the restaurant doesn’t have a table big enough, so we’re having dinner round ours.”
“Isn’t that bloody brilliant? He tells me this half an hour ago!” An all too familiar voice comes down the line. “Hello, my darling. By the way, you’re not still allergic to nuts, are you?”
Merlin laughs. “Afraid so Leny.”
“Bugger.”
“Got Elena working hard, I see?”
“What can I say? She lives to please me.” Gwaine’s rolling Irish accent transcends the phone; Merlin can practically hear the smirk on his face.
In the distance, he can just make out Elena clattering in the background. “Like the bastard would know what to do with a pot and pan!”
“Yes, well, dinner is now at 8pm.”
“Eight? How are we going to get across to New Gate in two hours?” asks Merlin, glancing down at his far too comfy yet scruffy track pants and t-shirt - he hasn’t even managed to jump in the shower yet.
“Well, you better get your ass into gear, or I’ll give it a good pounding… but then again, you’d probably love that.”
“Hmm, maybe. Arthur can be a very greedy bottom… He always-“
“Lalalalalala!! What have I told you about details!”
“You’re the one always talking about cocks and arses and pounding!” Merlin purrs, curling the last word around his tongue in a teasing manner.
“I am hanging up on you now, pervert - 8 o’clock, ours. See you and your skanky ass there.”
Merlin is still laughing as he shuts off his phone, tossing it to the other side of the couch. He looks at the clock on the wall, then back at his sketch pad, which is filled with many half-finished plans. Just twenty more minutes, and then he’ll get ready, he decides.
Ten minutes later, the sound of the front door closing echoes through the flat. Merlin doesn’t glance up until he feels the plush leather seat dip next to him, and he’s faced with the long expanse of Arthur’s throat as his head is tipped over the back of the sofa, eyes closed.
“Long day?” Merlin asks, putting his pen down on the crease of the pad and lifting a hand to run his fingers through the strands of dark blonde hair that fall across Arthur’s forehead.
“Exhausting. The new garage is proving to be a lot more work than we thought, but Balinor’s hired two more apprentices for the Acton branch so hopefully that’ll lighten my load…” Arthur says before flicking his eyes open, staring up at Merlin.
“Hey.” He murmurs softly.
“Hi.” Merlin replies just as quietly, teeth drawing into his bottom lip before he bends over Arthur to give him a sweet slow kiss. Arthur brings a hand to cradle the back of Merlin’s neck, holds him in place a while longer after he swipes over the roof of his mouth with his tongue. They part with a few more short kisses, lips brushing feather light across the edge of their mouths.
“Remember we have dinner with the guys tonight.” Merlin tells him, settling back on the couch and drawing the pad back over his lap. Arthur groans, shuffling to rest his tired head on Merlin’s bony shoulder.
“Do we have to? I’m tired.” Arthur’s whines could outdo a five year old.
“Yes. I think Gwen is going to announce they’re pregnant… or engaged or something. She’s been brooding,” says Merlin, contemplating his and Gwen’s coffee morning the other week where even the sight of a baby got her teary. “Oh, and change of plans: Elena’s cooking.”
If it was possible, Arthur’s groans got louder.
“Oh come on, you know how much she loves to cook.” Merlin says, swatting Arthur with the rolled up TV Guide. Arthur snatches it out of his hand, flicking to today’s schedule. “Yes, and I know how crap she is at it. Merlin, she almost killed me last time.”
Merlin snorts. “She did not.”
“Merlin.”
“So the chicken was a little pink. Still-”
Arthur almost propels himself from the sofa. “A little pink? It still had a pulse!”
“Oh, don’t live up to the gay-drama-queen stereotype, darling; it really doesn’t suit you.”
Arthur chuckles as he presses his face closer against Merlin’s neck. “Can I live up to other gay stereotypes though?”
“Like?” Merlin asks, tilting his head to give Arthur better access.
“Liiike.” Arthur hums, lips trailing along the length of Merlin’s jaw, teeth nipping at his day-old stubble. “Fucking you over the couch so hard that you won’t be able to sit still tonight, filling you up and leaving you like that so everyone will know.” He catches the soft flesh of Merlin’s earlobe lightly, suckles it into his mouth wet and hard.
Merlin lets out a whimpered sigh. “Gwaine will be disappointed.”
“You’re seriously bringing up Gwaine while I’m trying to talk your pants off?” Arthur pulls away with an annoyed tug of his eyebrow.
“It’s just - he thinks you’re a filthy bottom - might spoil the dream.” Merlin tries to explain, all the while clutching at his boyfriend’s shirt to bring him back to nibble at that spot again.
“Mmmm, I suppose we could take it in turns - we have time, right?”
“Plenty,” Merlin smirks, wicked grin flashing over his shining teeth - the others can wait half an hour. He stares up into Arthur’s eyes, a smile of equal radiance on his face.
“I’m so happy we got here.” Merlin whispers awe and wonderment casting over him as he rolls into the hot press of Arthur’s body. His lashes flutter against his cheek as Arthur forces him down into the cushions, looming over him, lips rounded. His eyes scan across Merlin’s face, hover over his mouth, quivering with anticipation, before they linger across to Merlin’s wrist, held tightly above his head. Merlin inhales a gasp as Arthur places a light kiss against the pulse point, lips gentle, soothing, whispering a prayer against the delicate cursive lettering that stands bold against Merlin’s pale skin. The word ‘mother’ has been tattooed there since a month after they’d left Holly Street, a month after they both lost her.
The words ‘I love you’ aren’t needed as Arthur dips down again to seal his lips over Merlin’s, because he finally has a future he never dreamed of, beyond the neon trees.
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