The Magic of the Game
Title: The Magic of the Game
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Merlin/Gwaine
Warnings/Content: Modern!AU, Modern-Magic!AU
Word Count: 10K
Summary: Gwaine starts at the University of Camelot and falls right into the swing of University life; great house mates, lectures and of course the Uni footie team, captained by the tenacious Arthur Pendragon. But it is Pendragon's elusive flatmate Merlin that keeps capturing Gwaine's attention.
Authors Note: My entry to the 2012 uni_merlin challenge for prompt no. 98: Gwaine discovers Merlin's magic while on watching one of Arthur's football matches and wants to know what it'd be like to have it, too. Kindly beta'd for me by destiny_chicken on very short notice so big kudos to her. Also thanks go to the prompter, the huys at the comm for hosting a great fest and to all how have commented or lefy Kudos already over at AO3.
Read at AO3
Arthur and Merlin were the kind of people that everyone knew of, that everyone had a drunken story about, that everyone had a theory about, but that hardly anyone really knew.
Gwaine transferred into the U of C in second year. His train pulled into Camelot station and Gwaine looked up at the shining white walls that bracketed the auspicious institute of learning, slapped a roguish smile on his face, hitched his bag up his shoulder and sauntered inside.
He had managed to get in on a house share with a couple of second years (God love the internet). It was typical student accommodation with a dodgy boiler and overgrowing back garden, but Gwaine wasn’t there to sample the local architecture.
Elyan and Percy were second years, in Engineering and Sport Science respectively. When he turned up at their door Elyan smiled at him, took his bag and Percy handed him a beer. So Gwaine knew they would be lifelong friends.
“PlayStation or Xbox?” Elyan quizzed, eyeballing Gwaine over the top of his beer bottle.
Gwaine pondered that for a moment, leaning back against the lumpy coach. These initial stages of friendship were important; he couldn’t afford to misstep and answer and then be forced into playing Call of Duty for the next two years. “Xbox” he decided on.
“Boxers of Briefs?” Percy shot.
“Boxer-Briefs.”
“Blondes or Brunettes?”
“Boy or a girl?” Gwaine shot back with a raised eyebrow. Elyan snorted beer out of his nose and Percy just started rolling about laughing.
Oh yeah… Gwaine grinned swigging his beer… definitely mates for life.
“So, you play any sports?” Elyan asked once the street lights were on outside and the beaten sofa was littered with an assortment of beer cans and bottles.
“Yeah…” Gwaine murmured. “This place got a footie team?”
Elyan and Percy exchanged a look before both chuckling.
“Er - Yeah this place has a footie team,” Elyan chuckled giving Gwaine an exasperated look. “Ever heard of the Camelot Knights?”
“Nope,” Gwaine shrugged, “Can’t say I have… Any good?”
The pair shot another look at each other, like Gwaine had just calmly informed them that it had escaped his awareness that the sky was sometimes blue.
“Dude,” Percy scoffed. “Where did you come from?”
Gwaine just grinned. “I’m a mystical gift for the gods.”
Percy gave him a light punch to the arm. “Camelot Knights have won the Albion cup five years in a row!”
“Huh,” Gwaine mused, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “Sounds like fun. Where do I sign up?”
“Sign… You can’t just sign up!” Elyan cried. Gwaine gave the boy a concerned look as his voice reached heights no fully grown man should be able to accomplish with their balls intact. Percival gave Elyan a soothing pat to the back.
“Arthur Pendragon is the Captain this year,” Percy explained, or rather didn’t, as that explained absolutely nothing to Gwaine. Gwaine raised an eyebrow and gestured for more information. “He was Vice last year-“
“First, first year ever to be Vice,” Elyan chimed in, his voice now a much more acceptable level of manliness.
“Yeah. But only ‘cause his Dad like owns half of the Uni,” Percy scoffed. “Anyway he’s in charge of team selection this year and he is making everyone re-try.”
“Sounds fair,” Gwaine mused taking a sip of his beer.
“Yeah but he won’t tell anyone when the trials are,” Percy explained. “I spoke to Lance who spoke to Gwen who heard from Morgana-”
“Arthur’s sister,” Elyan explained.
“-That he’s waiting to see who wants to try out. And only the people that pass his pre-tests will get the chance to try.”
Gwaine frowned and shook his head “The guy knows this is only a Uni footie squad right?”
“The Knights of Cam was like Arthur’s life last year, and now he’s in charge. It is going to be epic.”
“The guy sounds nuts to me mate.”
“Whatever, “ Elyan interrupted. “We heard Arthur was gonna be at the Union tonight, we’re were heading down to see if we can get him to notice us, see if we can get a trial, you in?”
Gwaine looked down at his nearly empty beer and shrugged. “Sure, not got much else planned.”
*
That’s where he saw Merlin that first night.
Gwaine was quietly observing the mottled dance floor, keeping an eye out for anything that tickled his fancy when Elyan sent an excited elbow into his ribs.
“Dude that’s him! It’s him!”
Gwaine looked across the bar for that telltale head of blond hair he had been told to look out for. Eventually he saw who Elyan was excitedly jumping on his toes to see.
The blond man moved through the crowds like Moses parting the water, his head held high, shoulders back, an over-privileged smug look on his face and fire in his eyes. The very look of a leader. Gwaine watched the blond head turn to mutter something to the man behind him.
Through the flashing club lights it was hard to make everything out but everything Gwaine did see prickled interest down his spine. The man was tall, maybe a little taller than Arthur, his shoulders were broad against his checked shirt, and thick black hair artfully ruffled. He stood behind Arthur but his stance held an easy confidence and when Arthur finished muttering to him he grinned.
“Who’s that?” Gwaine asked, leaning forward against the rail in front of him to get a better look.
“That’s Arthur, you dolt,” Elyan scoffed. “You wanna get on the Camelot Knights that’s who you’ve got to impress.”
“No,” Gwaine shook his head, his mind far removed from football and popularity contests now. “I mean the other one.”
Percy tucked his face near Gwaine and squinted out across the room. “Oh, that’s Merlin.”
‘Merlin’ Gwaine muttered in his head. “Who is he?”
“Nobody knows,” Percy stage whispered into his ear
“Oh, come on Perce!”
“He’s Arthur’s roommate,” Percy chuckled. “Got stuck with each other first year and…stuck together ever since. He does some kind of science or med course, I dunno. He wears a white coat, always shut away in the labs.” Percy shot Gwaine a shrewd look. “Why?”
Gwaine looked back out across the dance floor to see Merlin lean against the bar, head tipped back in laughter at whatever Arthur had just said, showing off a long, strong neck. And then, just for a moment, his head came up and across the noise and clamour of the club, Gwaine locked eyes with the bluest eyes he had ever seen. It hit him like a punch in the gut and then it was over and Merlin had turned to order. Gwaine had to swallow before he could speak again.
“…No reason.”
*
“You think we should go over?” Elyan fretted, chewing on his nail. “We should go over, or is it too soon. You think it’s too soon?”
“Whenever you’re ready man,” Percy chuckled. Elyan chewed on his nail a few moments longer.
“No. I think we should go over, come on.” Elyan managed a few confidant steps before stopping. “No, I think it’s too soon, he just got a fresh drink.”
“For God’s sake man,” Gwaine muttered, grabbing Elyan’s arm before the guy could attempt to bolt and pushed through the last barriers of the crowd until he was stood in front of the man himself.
Arthur Pendragon slouched easily back into the cushion of the booth, girls bracketed two deep either side of him. Gwaine felt a dip of disappointment that Merlin wasn’t there, but then Arthur was raising an eyebrow at the trio that had just descended upon his table and Gwaine realised he hadn’t actually said anything yet.
“Alright mate,” he smiled his most charming smile. “We’re interested in the footie team.”
Elyan let out a little squeak beside him but Gwaine just squeezed his arm a fraction tighter to shut him up and let the big boys do the talking.
“Really,” Arthur drawled, tossing his drink back in one mouth full before leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees, sending an assessing look to each of them. “So where were you last year? I don’t remember seeing you at the trials.”
Percy shifted and Elyan murmured something under his breath
“Let me guess,” Arthur smirked. “Too busy living up freshers week to get your arse outta bed to the sign-up tables.”
Percy coughed in agreement and Elyan gave a weak nod. Arthur sent a triumphant look to his posse who quivered about giggling. Gwaine just rolled his eyes.
“What about you Pantene?”
Gwaine blinked back to the present , to find Pendragon’s blue-eyed stare fixed on him. “You talking to me?” Gwaine raised an eyebrow
“Gwaine only joined Camelot this year,” Percy interjected, a slight plead to his tone.
Arthur leant back against his sofa, reluctantly ceding the point. “Alright, so I guess you’ve got an excuse. So you wanna be a Knight?”
“Sure,” Gwaine shrugged. “Why not?”
Gwaine took quite a bit of pleasure from the miniscule amount of shock he saw registered on the blond’s face before it was covered by a scowl. “Why not?” Arthur repeated darkly.
“Yeah,” Gwaine grinned. “Sounds like it could be a laugh.”
Arthur stood abruptly, the surrounding girls letting out little squeaks of surprise. “Please don’t waste my time gentlemen; I have better things to do with my night than deal with time-wasters.”
Downing his drink, Arthur squeezed out of the booth, ignoring the cries of disappointment from his admirers. Gwaine sent him a little grin and a wave before Arthur retreated into the crowd.
Gwaine tried to feel guilty, he really did. But the guy was just so pompous.
He felt smug satisfaction at ruffling the prima donna’s feathers until he turned around and saw Elyan’s crestfallen face and the stoic set to Percy’s jaw. With a sigh he turned, and followed the blond’s footsteps.
Arthur had retreated to the highly original club haunt of the men’s toilet. He was leaning against the sink, dutifully washing his hands when Gwaine let the door swing shut behind him. He scowled at Gwaine’s presence through the mirror but otherwise didn’t move.
“Hey look mate,” Gwaine sighed, agreeing with himself to shelve his pride for a moment for the sake of his new roommates. “I like footie sure, but Elyan and Perce, they’re good guys, least you could do is give ‘em a chance.”
“And why should I?” Arthur asked raising an eyebrow to Gwaine’s reflection. “What evidence has been given that they are committed to this, that they would be committed to the team?”
“If you are looking for a boat load of obsessionaries like you you’ll be searching a while.”
“I don’t even know why I’m talking to you,” Arthur muttered, turning and pushing past Gwaine heading to the door. Gwaine tried a different tactic.
“Or maybe you are just scared that they might actually be good,” he called to the blond’s retreating back. “Actually be better than Arthur Pendragon.”
That got him to stop. Arthur turned slowly, his eyes flashing dangerously. “What did you just say to me?”
“Well, if you make sure the team’s good, but not great, that means you shine all the brighter doesn’t it?”
“I would never - How dare you-“ Arthur’s mouth flipped and flopped like a fish. Gwaine tried very hard to smother his amusement at the sight of Arthur’s tumultuous rage. Eventually Arthur seemed to get a hold of himself. “That’s it, I’m done.”
The door swung shut behind Arthur’s back, shutting out the base beat of the club. Gwaine let himself soak up the unnatural silence of toilets for a moment before deciding he might as well make the most of the visit.
When Gwaine made it back inside the club, Elyan and Perce were already drowning their sorrows in a group fully of scantily clad first year girls. Gwaine sent a grin in their direction and headed to the bar.
He scanned the dance floor to see if he could spot that tousled black hair with no avail. So he retreated to his good old friend, the bar. After a few solitary drinks Gwaine was approached (bumped into) by a delightful Third Year named Elena. Curves in all the right places, just the right amount of curse in her sentence. A few drinks led to a drinking contest. A pretty girl and a challenge - Gwaine couldn’t resist.
Belatedly he realised he might have overestimated his tolerance when Elena leaned him against the Union wall after kicking out and hollered him a farewell.
Gwaine watched the pretty girl and her wonderful curves disappear down the road. He took a step, the pretty girl was getting away, but as soon as he moved away from the support of the cold brick wall against his back the pavement came rushing up to meet him.
“That’s not gonna impress him you know.”
Gwaine rolled his head sideways wincing at the scrape of pavement against his cheek, to see Converse, red, standing in a suspicious puddle. Gwaine grimaced then followed the feet up the legs, and legs and legs, wow, those legs were long…. oh there’s the body. Gwaine gulped when he recognised the shirt and, oh yes - the lips. He got stuck on those for a moment, watching them move up and down, the little pink tongue flicking about within.
He may have whimpered a little.
“Are you listening?” the mouth asked.
“To every word,” Gwaine slurred from his prone position on the ground.
Then the mouth smiled, Gwaine followed the corners up as they pressed against eyes, hey, he knew those eyes - hello, blue eyes.
He may have said that part out loud because the mouth let out a happy bark of laughter, Gwaine liked the sound, he wanted to hear it again, it washed over him like a breeze making the hairs on his neck stand on end, but then the eyes were coming down, closer to him and warm hands grabbed at his shoulders.
“Maybe we should just get you home.”
“Yes please,” Gwaine mumbled, riding the wave of dizziness that came with his now vertical position.
“Whoa. Alright, just don’t throw up on me,” a deep voice rumbled near his ear. Gwaine murmured in response and let his eyes close, letting Blue Eyes guide his feet, hopefully to somewhere flat and soft.
*
When Gwaine came to consciousness, he was laying, still dressed, face down into his pillow, a small puddle of drool collating under his chin.
Gwaine opened his eyes with a groan. His brain seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, slamming it into his skull on every beat. After a quick shuffle he found that at least he was in his own room, and dressed which was a plus. He smacked his lips together trying to get some moisture to his dry mouth. Water. He desperately needed water, and possibly a frontal lobotomy, but he’d try the water first.
He cautiously turned his aching neck to the other side and blinked… and then blinked again.
An old fashioned vial of an oddly green liquid sat on a carefully cleared spot on his bedside table. A scrap of paper propped against it.
Slowly Gwaine pushed himself up to sitting and reached out a shaky hand to the note.
- Drink this. It will help. Trust me. Merlin.
Gwaine smiled at the note, and then looked more cautiously at the green liquid. It looked slightly lumpy and when Gwaine titled the glass vial it congealed thickly on either side. His stomach turned just at the sight and he swallowed thickly. Then he glanced back at the note.
Really, how much worse could he feel?
“Just a milkshake,” he muttered to himself, uncorking the stopper. “Just a Mint Choc milkshake…that smells of cabbage.”
He swigged the whole contents back in one, like the professional he was, knocking it right to the back of his throat and swallowing.
It didn’t taste too bad he mused to himself for a moment. Then his stomach gurgled, and churned.
“Uh oh.”
He just about made it to the toilet before the green liquid made its rapid retreat up his oesophagus along with everything else he had eaten, drunk and consumed in what felt like the last three weeks.
A lifetime later he finished heaving his guts out and slumped heavily against the rim of the toilet, panting.
He lifted his head, wincing in preparation for the thumping in his skull, only to find…nothing.
Gwaine frowned and tilted his head to the other side… still nothing. He smacked his lips, expecting to find the lingering taste of sickness but found that his mouth tasted pleasantly minty fresh as if his teeth had been thoroughly scrubbed.
He let out a bark of surprised laughter, shaking his head back and forth, his hair flying in his face, which surprisingly didn’t feel greasy or smell like beer.
He pulled himself up to the mirror on steady legs and stared at his reflection: no bags beneath the eyes, his skin healthily tanned. He looked and felt even better than he had before he drank a boatload of tequila.
He let out another shout of happy laughter staring at his reflection.
Best hangover cure ever!
On entering the kitchen was evident that Elyan and Percy hadn’t been as equally blessed with their own hangover fairy. Both sat huddled at the rickety kitchen table, mugs of swirling hot tea before them.
“Well, morning lads!” he grinned shoving a handful of bread in the toaster and hopping up onto the counter.
“Shut up.” “Shut it Gwaine!” they both mumbled pathetically into their mugs.
“How are you not dying?” Elyan whispered hoarsely in Gwaine’s direction once the toaster had popped.
“Maybe I can just handle my drink better than you two amateurs,” Gwaine replied, applying a liberal amount of butter to each slice.
Percy didn’t respond exactly but wilted to the table with a pathetic groan, resting his forehead against wood.
Then when the door let out a loud bang he groaned again. Gwaine grinned and gave the man a sympathetic pat to the back on his way past. But when he opened the door there was no one there. Gwaine frowned and looked up the street and back down again, shrugged and was about to go back inside when two little white envelopes on the door mat caught his eye.
“Who was it?” Elyan mumbled when Gwaine returned to his toast.
“Here you go boys.” Grinning, Gwaine tossed the deliveries to the table, each envelope coming to a sliding stop on the table before its recipient.
Elyan and Percy exchanged a look but then cautiously opened them. Gwaine just watched with a grin and a mouthful of buttery toast.
“No way!” Percy yipped, jumping from chair with a grin.
“Oh my god,” Elyan murmured faintly, sinking back to his chair, with suspiciously bright eyes.
“No way!” Percy shouted again, his previous hangover forgotten as he read and then re-read the letter. “Try outs! We got invited to the try outs!”
“This afternoon,” Elyan muttered shakily, his face paling. “I think I am going to be sick.”
“You should. It will make you feel better,” Gwaine advised.
“Wait,” Percy stopped manically bouncing around the kitchen like a five-year-old hyped on Christmas for one moment, to give Gwaine a sad look. “Where’s your envelope?”
“No pressies for me this morning I’m afraid Perce. But I have no problem admitting that I have been a very bad boy,” Gwaine winked but Percy continued to stare at Gwaine like someone had kicked his favourite puppy. “Oh don’t look so glum Percival. I’ll come along, sit back with a beer and watch you two schmucks get bossed around the pitch by the Great Dictator.”
“God, don’t mention beer,” Elyan groaned into the little nest ha had made with his arms and letter.
“Hair of the Dog,” Gwaine announced joyfully.
All the remaining colour promptly left Elyan’s face and he exited the kitchen in a flash. Gwaine and Percy exchanged winces when the sounds of retching filled the small house.
Part 2
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Merlin/Gwaine
Warnings/Content: Modern!AU, Modern-Magic!AU
Word Count: 10K
Summary: Gwaine starts at the University of Camelot and falls right into the swing of University life; great house mates, lectures and of course the Uni footie team, captained by the tenacious Arthur Pendragon. But it is Pendragon's elusive flatmate Merlin that keeps capturing Gwaine's attention.
Authors Note: My entry to the 2012 uni_merlin challenge for prompt no. 98: Gwaine discovers Merlin's magic while on watching one of Arthur's football matches and wants to know what it'd be like to have it, too. Kindly beta'd for me by destiny_chicken on very short notice so big kudos to her. Also thanks go to the prompter, the huys at the comm for hosting a great fest and to all how have commented or lefy Kudos already over at AO3.
Read at AO3
Arthur and Merlin were the kind of people that everyone knew of, that everyone had a drunken story about, that everyone had a theory about, but that hardly anyone really knew.
Gwaine transferred into the U of C in second year. His train pulled into Camelot station and Gwaine looked up at the shining white walls that bracketed the auspicious institute of learning, slapped a roguish smile on his face, hitched his bag up his shoulder and sauntered inside.
He had managed to get in on a house share with a couple of second years (God love the internet). It was typical student accommodation with a dodgy boiler and overgrowing back garden, but Gwaine wasn’t there to sample the local architecture.
Elyan and Percy were second years, in Engineering and Sport Science respectively. When he turned up at their door Elyan smiled at him, took his bag and Percy handed him a beer. So Gwaine knew they would be lifelong friends.
“PlayStation or Xbox?” Elyan quizzed, eyeballing Gwaine over the top of his beer bottle.
Gwaine pondered that for a moment, leaning back against the lumpy coach. These initial stages of friendship were important; he couldn’t afford to misstep and answer and then be forced into playing Call of Duty for the next two years. “Xbox” he decided on.
“Boxers of Briefs?” Percy shot.
“Boxer-Briefs.”
“Blondes or Brunettes?”
“Boy or a girl?” Gwaine shot back with a raised eyebrow. Elyan snorted beer out of his nose and Percy just started rolling about laughing.
Oh yeah… Gwaine grinned swigging his beer… definitely mates for life.
“So, you play any sports?” Elyan asked once the street lights were on outside and the beaten sofa was littered with an assortment of beer cans and bottles.
“Yeah…” Gwaine murmured. “This place got a footie team?”
Elyan and Percy exchanged a look before both chuckling.
“Er - Yeah this place has a footie team,” Elyan chuckled giving Gwaine an exasperated look. “Ever heard of the Camelot Knights?”
“Nope,” Gwaine shrugged, “Can’t say I have… Any good?”
The pair shot another look at each other, like Gwaine had just calmly informed them that it had escaped his awareness that the sky was sometimes blue.
“Dude,” Percy scoffed. “Where did you come from?”
Gwaine just grinned. “I’m a mystical gift for the gods.”
Percy gave him a light punch to the arm. “Camelot Knights have won the Albion cup five years in a row!”
“Huh,” Gwaine mused, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “Sounds like fun. Where do I sign up?”
“Sign… You can’t just sign up!” Elyan cried. Gwaine gave the boy a concerned look as his voice reached heights no fully grown man should be able to accomplish with their balls intact. Percival gave Elyan a soothing pat to the back.
“Arthur Pendragon is the Captain this year,” Percy explained, or rather didn’t, as that explained absolutely nothing to Gwaine. Gwaine raised an eyebrow and gestured for more information. “He was Vice last year-“
“First, first year ever to be Vice,” Elyan chimed in, his voice now a much more acceptable level of manliness.
“Yeah. But only ‘cause his Dad like owns half of the Uni,” Percy scoffed. “Anyway he’s in charge of team selection this year and he is making everyone re-try.”
“Sounds fair,” Gwaine mused taking a sip of his beer.
“Yeah but he won’t tell anyone when the trials are,” Percy explained. “I spoke to Lance who spoke to Gwen who heard from Morgana-”
“Arthur’s sister,” Elyan explained.
“-That he’s waiting to see who wants to try out. And only the people that pass his pre-tests will get the chance to try.”
Gwaine frowned and shook his head “The guy knows this is only a Uni footie squad right?”
“The Knights of Cam was like Arthur’s life last year, and now he’s in charge. It is going to be epic.”
“The guy sounds nuts to me mate.”
“Whatever, “ Elyan interrupted. “We heard Arthur was gonna be at the Union tonight, we’re were heading down to see if we can get him to notice us, see if we can get a trial, you in?”
Gwaine looked down at his nearly empty beer and shrugged. “Sure, not got much else planned.”
*
That’s where he saw Merlin that first night.
Gwaine was quietly observing the mottled dance floor, keeping an eye out for anything that tickled his fancy when Elyan sent an excited elbow into his ribs.
“Dude that’s him! It’s him!”
Gwaine looked across the bar for that telltale head of blond hair he had been told to look out for. Eventually he saw who Elyan was excitedly jumping on his toes to see.
The blond man moved through the crowds like Moses parting the water, his head held high, shoulders back, an over-privileged smug look on his face and fire in his eyes. The very look of a leader. Gwaine watched the blond head turn to mutter something to the man behind him.
Through the flashing club lights it was hard to make everything out but everything Gwaine did see prickled interest down his spine. The man was tall, maybe a little taller than Arthur, his shoulders were broad against his checked shirt, and thick black hair artfully ruffled. He stood behind Arthur but his stance held an easy confidence and when Arthur finished muttering to him he grinned.
“Who’s that?” Gwaine asked, leaning forward against the rail in front of him to get a better look.
“That’s Arthur, you dolt,” Elyan scoffed. “You wanna get on the Camelot Knights that’s who you’ve got to impress.”
“No,” Gwaine shook his head, his mind far removed from football and popularity contests now. “I mean the other one.”
Percy tucked his face near Gwaine and squinted out across the room. “Oh, that’s Merlin.”
‘Merlin’ Gwaine muttered in his head. “Who is he?”
“Nobody knows,” Percy stage whispered into his ear
“Oh, come on Perce!”
“He’s Arthur’s roommate,” Percy chuckled. “Got stuck with each other first year and…stuck together ever since. He does some kind of science or med course, I dunno. He wears a white coat, always shut away in the labs.” Percy shot Gwaine a shrewd look. “Why?”
Gwaine looked back out across the dance floor to see Merlin lean against the bar, head tipped back in laughter at whatever Arthur had just said, showing off a long, strong neck. And then, just for a moment, his head came up and across the noise and clamour of the club, Gwaine locked eyes with the bluest eyes he had ever seen. It hit him like a punch in the gut and then it was over and Merlin had turned to order. Gwaine had to swallow before he could speak again.
“…No reason.”
*
“You think we should go over?” Elyan fretted, chewing on his nail. “We should go over, or is it too soon. You think it’s too soon?”
“Whenever you’re ready man,” Percy chuckled. Elyan chewed on his nail a few moments longer.
“No. I think we should go over, come on.” Elyan managed a few confidant steps before stopping. “No, I think it’s too soon, he just got a fresh drink.”
“For God’s sake man,” Gwaine muttered, grabbing Elyan’s arm before the guy could attempt to bolt and pushed through the last barriers of the crowd until he was stood in front of the man himself.
Arthur Pendragon slouched easily back into the cushion of the booth, girls bracketed two deep either side of him. Gwaine felt a dip of disappointment that Merlin wasn’t there, but then Arthur was raising an eyebrow at the trio that had just descended upon his table and Gwaine realised he hadn’t actually said anything yet.
“Alright mate,” he smiled his most charming smile. “We’re interested in the footie team.”
Elyan let out a little squeak beside him but Gwaine just squeezed his arm a fraction tighter to shut him up and let the big boys do the talking.
“Really,” Arthur drawled, tossing his drink back in one mouth full before leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees, sending an assessing look to each of them. “So where were you last year? I don’t remember seeing you at the trials.”
Percy shifted and Elyan murmured something under his breath
“Let me guess,” Arthur smirked. “Too busy living up freshers week to get your arse outta bed to the sign-up tables.”
Percy coughed in agreement and Elyan gave a weak nod. Arthur sent a triumphant look to his posse who quivered about giggling. Gwaine just rolled his eyes.
“What about you Pantene?”
Gwaine blinked back to the present , to find Pendragon’s blue-eyed stare fixed on him. “You talking to me?” Gwaine raised an eyebrow
“Gwaine only joined Camelot this year,” Percy interjected, a slight plead to his tone.
Arthur leant back against his sofa, reluctantly ceding the point. “Alright, so I guess you’ve got an excuse. So you wanna be a Knight?”
“Sure,” Gwaine shrugged. “Why not?”
Gwaine took quite a bit of pleasure from the miniscule amount of shock he saw registered on the blond’s face before it was covered by a scowl. “Why not?” Arthur repeated darkly.
“Yeah,” Gwaine grinned. “Sounds like it could be a laugh.”
Arthur stood abruptly, the surrounding girls letting out little squeaks of surprise. “Please don’t waste my time gentlemen; I have better things to do with my night than deal with time-wasters.”
Downing his drink, Arthur squeezed out of the booth, ignoring the cries of disappointment from his admirers. Gwaine sent him a little grin and a wave before Arthur retreated into the crowd.
Gwaine tried to feel guilty, he really did. But the guy was just so pompous.
He felt smug satisfaction at ruffling the prima donna’s feathers until he turned around and saw Elyan’s crestfallen face and the stoic set to Percy’s jaw. With a sigh he turned, and followed the blond’s footsteps.
Arthur had retreated to the highly original club haunt of the men’s toilet. He was leaning against the sink, dutifully washing his hands when Gwaine let the door swing shut behind him. He scowled at Gwaine’s presence through the mirror but otherwise didn’t move.
“Hey look mate,” Gwaine sighed, agreeing with himself to shelve his pride for a moment for the sake of his new roommates. “I like footie sure, but Elyan and Perce, they’re good guys, least you could do is give ‘em a chance.”
“And why should I?” Arthur asked raising an eyebrow to Gwaine’s reflection. “What evidence has been given that they are committed to this, that they would be committed to the team?”
“If you are looking for a boat load of obsessionaries like you you’ll be searching a while.”
“I don’t even know why I’m talking to you,” Arthur muttered, turning and pushing past Gwaine heading to the door. Gwaine tried a different tactic.
“Or maybe you are just scared that they might actually be good,” he called to the blond’s retreating back. “Actually be better than Arthur Pendragon.”
That got him to stop. Arthur turned slowly, his eyes flashing dangerously. “What did you just say to me?”
“Well, if you make sure the team’s good, but not great, that means you shine all the brighter doesn’t it?”
“I would never - How dare you-“ Arthur’s mouth flipped and flopped like a fish. Gwaine tried very hard to smother his amusement at the sight of Arthur’s tumultuous rage. Eventually Arthur seemed to get a hold of himself. “That’s it, I’m done.”
The door swung shut behind Arthur’s back, shutting out the base beat of the club. Gwaine let himself soak up the unnatural silence of toilets for a moment before deciding he might as well make the most of the visit.
When Gwaine made it back inside the club, Elyan and Perce were already drowning their sorrows in a group fully of scantily clad first year girls. Gwaine sent a grin in their direction and headed to the bar.
He scanned the dance floor to see if he could spot that tousled black hair with no avail. So he retreated to his good old friend, the bar. After a few solitary drinks Gwaine was approached (bumped into) by a delightful Third Year named Elena. Curves in all the right places, just the right amount of curse in her sentence. A few drinks led to a drinking contest. A pretty girl and a challenge - Gwaine couldn’t resist.
Belatedly he realised he might have overestimated his tolerance when Elena leaned him against the Union wall after kicking out and hollered him a farewell.
Gwaine watched the pretty girl and her wonderful curves disappear down the road. He took a step, the pretty girl was getting away, but as soon as he moved away from the support of the cold brick wall against his back the pavement came rushing up to meet him.
“That’s not gonna impress him you know.”
Gwaine rolled his head sideways wincing at the scrape of pavement against his cheek, to see Converse, red, standing in a suspicious puddle. Gwaine grimaced then followed the feet up the legs, and legs and legs, wow, those legs were long…. oh there’s the body. Gwaine gulped when he recognised the shirt and, oh yes - the lips. He got stuck on those for a moment, watching them move up and down, the little pink tongue flicking about within.
He may have whimpered a little.
“Are you listening?” the mouth asked.
“To every word,” Gwaine slurred from his prone position on the ground.
Then the mouth smiled, Gwaine followed the corners up as they pressed against eyes, hey, he knew those eyes - hello, blue eyes.
He may have said that part out loud because the mouth let out a happy bark of laughter, Gwaine liked the sound, he wanted to hear it again, it washed over him like a breeze making the hairs on his neck stand on end, but then the eyes were coming down, closer to him and warm hands grabbed at his shoulders.
“Maybe we should just get you home.”
“Yes please,” Gwaine mumbled, riding the wave of dizziness that came with his now vertical position.
“Whoa. Alright, just don’t throw up on me,” a deep voice rumbled near his ear. Gwaine murmured in response and let his eyes close, letting Blue Eyes guide his feet, hopefully to somewhere flat and soft.
*
When Gwaine came to consciousness, he was laying, still dressed, face down into his pillow, a small puddle of drool collating under his chin.
Gwaine opened his eyes with a groan. His brain seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, slamming it into his skull on every beat. After a quick shuffle he found that at least he was in his own room, and dressed which was a plus. He smacked his lips together trying to get some moisture to his dry mouth. Water. He desperately needed water, and possibly a frontal lobotomy, but he’d try the water first.
He cautiously turned his aching neck to the other side and blinked… and then blinked again.
An old fashioned vial of an oddly green liquid sat on a carefully cleared spot on his bedside table. A scrap of paper propped against it.
Slowly Gwaine pushed himself up to sitting and reached out a shaky hand to the note.
- Drink this. It will help. Trust me. Merlin.
Gwaine smiled at the note, and then looked more cautiously at the green liquid. It looked slightly lumpy and when Gwaine titled the glass vial it congealed thickly on either side. His stomach turned just at the sight and he swallowed thickly. Then he glanced back at the note.
Really, how much worse could he feel?
“Just a milkshake,” he muttered to himself, uncorking the stopper. “Just a Mint Choc milkshake…that smells of cabbage.”
He swigged the whole contents back in one, like the professional he was, knocking it right to the back of his throat and swallowing.
It didn’t taste too bad he mused to himself for a moment. Then his stomach gurgled, and churned.
“Uh oh.”
He just about made it to the toilet before the green liquid made its rapid retreat up his oesophagus along with everything else he had eaten, drunk and consumed in what felt like the last three weeks.
A lifetime later he finished heaving his guts out and slumped heavily against the rim of the toilet, panting.
He lifted his head, wincing in preparation for the thumping in his skull, only to find…nothing.
Gwaine frowned and tilted his head to the other side… still nothing. He smacked his lips, expecting to find the lingering taste of sickness but found that his mouth tasted pleasantly minty fresh as if his teeth had been thoroughly scrubbed.
He let out a bark of surprised laughter, shaking his head back and forth, his hair flying in his face, which surprisingly didn’t feel greasy or smell like beer.
He pulled himself up to the mirror on steady legs and stared at his reflection: no bags beneath the eyes, his skin healthily tanned. He looked and felt even better than he had before he drank a boatload of tequila.
He let out another shout of happy laughter staring at his reflection.
Best hangover cure ever!
On entering the kitchen was evident that Elyan and Percy hadn’t been as equally blessed with their own hangover fairy. Both sat huddled at the rickety kitchen table, mugs of swirling hot tea before them.
“Well, morning lads!” he grinned shoving a handful of bread in the toaster and hopping up onto the counter.
“Shut up.” “Shut it Gwaine!” they both mumbled pathetically into their mugs.
“How are you not dying?” Elyan whispered hoarsely in Gwaine’s direction once the toaster had popped.
“Maybe I can just handle my drink better than you two amateurs,” Gwaine replied, applying a liberal amount of butter to each slice.
Percy didn’t respond exactly but wilted to the table with a pathetic groan, resting his forehead against wood.
Then when the door let out a loud bang he groaned again. Gwaine grinned and gave the man a sympathetic pat to the back on his way past. But when he opened the door there was no one there. Gwaine frowned and looked up the street and back down again, shrugged and was about to go back inside when two little white envelopes on the door mat caught his eye.
“Who was it?” Elyan mumbled when Gwaine returned to his toast.
“Here you go boys.” Grinning, Gwaine tossed the deliveries to the table, each envelope coming to a sliding stop on the table before its recipient.
Elyan and Percy exchanged a look but then cautiously opened them. Gwaine just watched with a grin and a mouthful of buttery toast.
“No way!” Percy yipped, jumping from chair with a grin.
“Oh my god,” Elyan murmured faintly, sinking back to his chair, with suspiciously bright eyes.
“No way!” Percy shouted again, his previous hangover forgotten as he read and then re-read the letter. “Try outs! We got invited to the try outs!”
“This afternoon,” Elyan muttered shakily, his face paling. “I think I am going to be sick.”
“You should. It will make you feel better,” Gwaine advised.
“Wait,” Percy stopped manically bouncing around the kitchen like a five-year-old hyped on Christmas for one moment, to give Gwaine a sad look. “Where’s your envelope?”
“No pressies for me this morning I’m afraid Perce. But I have no problem admitting that I have been a very bad boy,” Gwaine winked but Percy continued to stare at Gwaine like someone had kicked his favourite puppy. “Oh don’t look so glum Percival. I’ll come along, sit back with a beer and watch you two schmucks get bossed around the pitch by the Great Dictator.”
“God, don’t mention beer,” Elyan groaned into the little nest ha had made with his arms and letter.
“Hair of the Dog,” Gwaine announced joyfully.
All the remaining colour promptly left Elyan’s face and he exited the kitchen in a flash. Gwaine and Percy exchanged winces when the sounds of retching filled the small house.
Part 2