The Magic of the Game 2
Part 1
Part 2
Elyan finally left the bathroom sometime just before lunch and managed to shower and dress himself. Once he had his boots in hand, walking through the fresh crisp air of Camelot town towards the football grounds, he seemed to perk up a bit.
The trio marched through the gates to the long green training grounds bracketed on all sides with low white posts, low rise empty bleachers on one side.
There was a huddle to the side of the pitch and Elyan and Percival immediately broke off with a jaunty wave in Gwaine’s direction. But Gwaine was too busy walking towards the figure he had spotted as soon as they walked through the gates, the main reason he had bothered to come all the way down here.
But his aim was cut just short when he was confronted with a scowling Pendragon
“These are supposed to be secret trials,” Arthur grouched.
Gwaine looked over Arthur’s shoulder to where Merlin was leaning against the white posts around the pitch, not so secretly and amusedly watching. “Merlin’s here,” he pointed out.
Arthur stared over his shoulder to the man in question. Merlin just smiled back before shrugging. “He’s right, I am here.”
“Fine,” Arthur huffed, turning back to Gwaine. “Be quiet and stay out of the way.”
Gwaine smirked and took up a relaxed slouch against the pitch barriers, leaning his elbows against the white metal. The boys all donned their boots and Arthur gave a sharp toot on the whistle directing them running up and down the field. Elyan was already starting to look sick.
“That was some cure you gave me,” Gwaine mused, giving Merlin a sideways glance. The man’s lips twitched but he kept his focus out on the field.
“So you feel alright?”
“After puking out my innards, yeah.”
“Ahh,” the man replied dryly. “Perhaps I should have listed the side effects on the bottle.”
Gwaine snorted in agreement but let his focus go back to the players on the pitch. There was no doubt that Arthur had skill. He weaved through the players with the grace of a dancer, tackled with the tenacity of a boar and shot at goal with needle-point precision. But it didn’t make Gwaine like the pompous twat any better.
“So, what’s with Your Highness?” he asked shooting Merlin a look, nodding at the pitch where the blond was giving Percy a lecture about focus and some other such drivel.
“There were troubles last year,” Merlin spoke with a shrug, “within the team. Arthur wanted to do things differently this year.”
“They still won didn’t they?”
“Apparently there is a difference between winning and ‘winning with honour.” Gwaine gave Merlin the eyebrow. “I dunno….” Merlin scoffed, looking back to the field. “It’s important to Arthur.”
At the finality of Merlin’s tone Gwaine just nodded and turned his focus going back to the field. But he could still feel the warmth from Merlin's body at his side, was overly aware of every move the brunet took but Merlin seemed to be paying no more attention to him. Gwaine could take it…he could play it cool. He clicked his neck and stared, perhaps too intently, at Percival who was about to save a penalty. Feeling Gwaine’s eyes on him Percy glanced up for one second to give Gwaine a confused frown and then the striker kicked, and the ball flew right past Percy’s outstretched hand.
Percy looked at the scored ball and then back at Gwaine with a scowl before his attention was taken by a growling Pendragon. Gwaine grimaced with guilt, for only knowing these guys a few days he certainly wasn’t making their life easier.
Feeling eyes on himself he turned to see Merlin trying to stifle a broad grin and failing.. Gwaine shrugged. “What, he’s going to have to have better focus than that on the pitch. Arthur should be thanking me.”
Merlin chuckled, smiling at Gwaine wickedly from under his thick lashes. It flipped something hot and burning in Gwaine stomach, letting it sizzle and glow, it wasn’t an entirely comfortable feeling. Gwaine took in a steadying breath and turned back to the pitch. He didn’t mind the silence much after that.
*
After an innumerable amount of jumping jacks and reflex tests Arthur blew the final whistle of the try outs and brought the group together. He must have been giving out his decisions because there were a yelps of joy and a few slumped shoulders of defeat.
“Arthur likes to make gut decisions,” Merlin supplied from where his heat was still burning a hole through Gwaine’s jacket.
“Uh.” Gwaine had to admire that and watched with a smile as Percival and Elyan both grinned widely once Arthur had finished talking to them, and gave him a thumbs up. Gwaine responded in kind along with a sign to hit the pub. He wasn’t really serious he just wanted to see all the colour drain from Elyan’s face again.
Chuckling to himself Gwaine turned to see a stormy-faced man he recognised as a striker stomp off the pitch, obviously in displeasure.
Gwaine remembered him from the practice - Valiant. He had been alright on the ball, had a lethal right foot and could get massive power behind it but he hadn’t been all that graceful, and there had definitely been better players out there today, especially after he went in to tackle Arthur, missed the ball and the Captain’s ankles and ended up with his face in the dirt.
The man’s eyes twitched, catching movement from the corner of his eyes and slowly focussed his flaming eyes on Gwaine… no wait, not Gwaine - Merlin.
Valiant took a stride forward quickly; his hands fisted at his side and came to an aborted stop right in Merlin’s face. Gwaine had stiffened with every one of Valiant’s footsteps, but Merlin still leant languidly against the posts staring blandly at the spitting man.
“Stupid Daddy’s boy thinks he can dump me?!” Valiant hissed at Merlin. Gwaine looked apprehensively between the two, just waiting for his cue to step in, but Merlin didn’t look too fazed.
“Valiant, you didn’t make the team because you are a scamming cheat and not a good enough player to overlook that.” Merlin rolled his eyes and turned to leave, turning his back on the enraged player.
“It was you,” Valiant seethed, staring at Merlin’s back. “You little freak! You did something!”
For all of Valiant's bumbling footwork, he was fast when he wanted to be. Gwaine watched with horror as he grabbed Merlin’s shoulders and shoved him hard against the wooden bleachers. A little noise escaped Merlin’s mouth along with the air from his lungs, a small pained sound that jarred something deep in Gwaine’s chest.
“Oi!” he had called out before really registering that he was about to act.
Valiant turned his sneering face away from his victim towards Gwaine’s advancing enraged one which seemed to be a mistake, because Merlin shifted. Gwaine, whose eyes were fixed on his target missed what he did but Valiant yelped in pain and jumped away. Gwaine didn’t miss a beat and swung a fist, hitting Valiant squarely on the jaw.
The man dropped like a sack of potatoes and hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Gwaine winced in sympathy but quickly stepped over the felled body to reach Merlin. He was standing rather steadily, but rubbing at his wrists. Gwaine felt a resurgence of rage when he saw the red grip marks on both thin wrists.
Gwaine reached out a hand, carefully taking the wrists in his hands, running a soothing thumb over the red marks, as if his touch could erase them.
“Merlin!” Arthur’s shocked cry startled Gwaine from where he was absently stroking Merlin’s skin and standing very close. Merlin shot Gwaine a small look before giving Arthur a large grin.
“Arthur!”
“What-“ Arthur stumbled, eyes flicking between the still unconscious Valiant, Gwaine and Merlin. “What the hell?”
“It seems we can add sore loser to Valiant's faults,” Merlin shrugged stepping over the fallen man to Arthur’s side.
Arthur’s eyes zeroed in on the redness around Merlin’s wrists and his eyes widened with rage. “Did he do this?” he hissed grabbing one of the wrists roughly. Merlin winced and batted Arthur away.
“Yes but I’m fine… Gwaine saved me.”
Arthur frowned in Gwaine’s direction, sending him an incredulous eyebrow. “Gwaine saved you?”
“Yes. He did. You know, some people can grow on you if you give them a second chance,” Merlin spoke pointedly, giving Arthur a hard look.
Arthur returned the look, staring straight into Merlin’s eyes. Gwaine looked back and forth between them, seemingly in a wordless conversation. Then Merlin raised an eyebrow and Arthur’s shoulders sunk in defat.
“Fine,” he muttered, sending Gwaine a harsh look as if it were all his fault. “Bring your boots tomorrow Gwaine. You can have a trial. Only a trial!” he confirmed, giving Merlin a stare. “And if he’s shit, I am blaming you.”
Merlin didn’t seem deterred and just grinned at Arthur until the blond huffed and stormed back to the changing rooms.
Gwaine was too shocked to speak for a moment. “Why would you do that?” he choked back the ‘for me’ he wanted to add to the end.
At Merlin’s soft gaze he suspected Merlin heard it anyway. “Do you want to sit on the side-lines with me all season or do you want to play?”
Merlin gave Gwaine a cheeky smirk and a wink. And Gwaine almost replied ‘sit with you’ But then Merlin had twirled and was shouting “See you tomorrow Gwaine” over his shoulder before disappearing through the gates.
*
When Gwaine stepped out onto the field the next day he realised how much he had missed playing. Maybe not the diabolical tenacity that Arthur was expecting but the rush of wind in his hair as he outpaced the defenders, the singular focus on this ball of white leather, the camaraderie of a goal scored, even if it was just in practice.
After practice concluded, he hobbled off the training grounds towards the stands, feeling a bit sore but grinning like a fool. He lowered himself to the bleachers with a sigh and pulled at his laces. In the three months his boots had gotten testy and had decided to show their displeasure at their neglect by squishing Gwaine toes to a pulp.
“Good practice?”
Gwaine didn’t need to turn to recognise the voice. He let a small smile escape onto his lips as he tugged off the first boot and cracked his toes.
“As well as can be expected I suppose.”
“Arthur can be a bit of a driver,” Merlin agreed coming to sit next to Gwaine, their shoulders brushing. “Excellence has always been expected of him, so he demands it from others.”
Gwaine hummed in vague agreement. To be honest he didn’t really care. “So aren’t you going to get a bollocking for being late?”
Merlin chuckled. “You know I am not actually required to be here. I had a lab.”
“So you just come for my scintillating company, or to watch all the boys run around in their shorts?”
“Can’t it be both?” he shrugged. Merlin turned then, his hypnotic eyes capturing Gwaine’s attention exclusively. He felt it again, the fizzle and sizzle of something unknown creeping up his back, the feeling that half made you want to arch away and half lean back into it. As Gwaine tried not to squirm in his seat, the blue eyes twinkled with mirth and something knowing, showing intelligence and something powerful, hidden.
“Merlin!”
Merlin broke from Gwaine’s stare and Gwaine used the moment to release a deep shuddering breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. “Yes Arthur?” Merlin shouted in exasperation, not moving his head any further around to the captain than a very dismissive tilt, staring somewhere in the vicinity of Gwaine's right ear.
There was a beat of silence and Merlin raised an eyebrow in waiting.
“… Did you get the milk?”
“No.” Merlin sighed. “I will get it later. Anything else Arthur?”
Gwaine shifted his eyes to the right slightly to see Arthur stood shiftily at the bottom of the bleachers, eyes darting back and forth between Gwaine and Merlin. In the end his shoulders slumped slightly his face frowning in annoyance. “No.” he replied sullenly, almost a growl. Gwaine had to curb his response to grin at Arthur’s childish reaction and successfully pursed his lips. “Just… don’t take too long. Gwaine needs to be in the dressing room.”
Gwaine watched Arthur’s retreating back then turned back to Merlin who was staring at him, with an expectant look. And Gwaine’s brain suddenly stumbled. He knew what he would do normally when faced with a scrumptious creature that he really wanted to devour, he wouldn’t think twice. But Merlin… there was something about Merlin, something undefined and scary, something that made Gwaine feel hot and chilled at the same time. Something that made Gwaine admit he was dealing with a different kind of creature all together.
So he grinned and moved back a little. Merlin’s face creased into a small frown at the distance but Gwaine gave him a slow smile.
“I should go, the princess is calling.”
“Alright,” Merlin answered a little confused.
“You gonna to be here tomorrow?” Gwaine asked, letting his nervousness into his tone a little.
“Maybe,” Merlin’s face began to lose his frown as he considered Gwaine. “Will you be wearing shorts?”
Gwaine let his head fall back into a hearty laugh. When he looked back Merlin was grinning that devilishly sinful grin that made Gwaine want to devour it right there. “There will be a whole field of men for you to ogle.”
“Hum…” Merlin hummed giving Gwaine an obvious up-and-down that made Gwaine’s brain prickle. “Maybe I could be persuaded.”
The hot sizzle start creeping up Gwaine’s back again. “Right,” he choked taking a step back, stumbling when he misplaced his step. For the first time in years Gwaine felt the tickle of a blush against his cheeks as he looked back up to see Merlin pursing his lips in an obvious attempt to keep back a laugh.
“Take care,” Merlin chortled giving Gwaine a wave, leaning back casually against the bleachers, stretching out his long body like a feast.
Gwaine turned trying to steady his erratic breathing and threw a wave over his shoulder. When he was safely seconded in his shower cubical he allowed his sopping head to fall against the tiles in despair.
What the hell had happened to him? Gwaine was suave, he was charming. He did not stumble, he did not blush and blue eyes did not make his heart flutter like a harmless rabbit’s. He was the predator not the prey…
But then the memory of a wicked grin and sparkling blue eyes invaded his head, filling his whole brain so abruptly he had to blink and staggered against the cubical wall. He shook his head firmly, clearing his vision. He was just tired…very over-tired he mused to himself as he began to vigorously scrub at his skin.
Either that or he had lost his mind.
*
Contrary to Gwaine’s quite fervent wishes, University actually did include some lectures. Gwaine spent the majority of Monday and Tuesday flitting between the lecture halls, the library and the house blearily passing Elyan and Percy in the early mornings or evenings when they all piled onto the sofa with a can.
But in between and laced through all the day-to-day minutia of university life, a hook had latched into the back of his mind, one that was tall and slim and had pale skin that was just made to be nibbled at. Gwaine found himself drifting off in lectures wondering what shade of red the skin would turn with beard burn, what pressure on the hips would leave marks.
It was confusing and frustrating and annoying and was driving Gwaine out of his mind.
On Tuesday night Gwaine took himself out, propped himself at the bar and proved to himself that he still had it. After a few short minutes of charming grins and playful come-ons he had the giggling girl basically worshipping at his feet. Her eyes wide and black rimmed staring at him hopefully, wordlessly begging him to take her home now and have his wicked way.
So he did, he was a gentleman at least and they both had a wonderful time. Then in the morning he made her coffee and toast and let her kiss him goodbye. There was no exchange of numbers and when Percy wolf whistled at him when the door had shut and asked who the bombshell had been, he couldn’t even remember her name.
But she had served her purpose. When Wednesday rolled around he was still sporting a quite impressive love bite on between his shoulder and neck and a new spring in his step. The night’s weren’t totally dark yet but the flood lights left long shadows on the pitch as they darted about in the early night fog as the team ran back and forth across the damp turf.
He felt Merlin’s presence before he saw him, a gentle tug at the side of his consciousness. Turning, Gwaine spotted the brunet, in a thick coat and scarf, standing to the side of the pitch, a white steaming takeaway cup in his hands.
Practice went on for a few more minutes until Arthur blew the whistle. It was an odd arrangement within the squad, the coach trying to order the troops around for a while before Arthur gave the man a glare and took his whistle, suggesting as condescendingly as possible that he go have a rest in the coach’s bench.
But the whistle was blown and Gwaine was free to go. His feet seemed to move free of his mind and broke away from the stream of men funnelling into the changing room doors, taking him off to the side where a flood light illuminated Merlin’s spot.
“Hello Gwaine,” Merlin grinned, turning his body to face Gwaine’s advancing figure. “You looked good out there tonight.”
“My shorts or my skills?” Gwaine beamed back coming to stand a little closer to Merlin’s warm body than was socially acceptable, his previous hesitancies forgotten and his heart still beat like a jackrabbit and his neck still sizzled but it didn’t seem to matter; like Gwaine was a fluttering moth to Merlin’s enigmatic flame.
Merlin chuckled, shaking his head and taking a sip of his hot drink. “I can tell you, from behind enemy lines, that Arthur has been impressed. He may have mentioned that he would be starting you next Wednesday.”
Gwaine tried to suppress the glow of pride he felt at the statement but couldn’t quite smother down his pleased smile. “Well,” he coughed. “The man obviously knows talent when he sees it.”
“So I hope you remember me,” Merlin said his body canting forward, “when you are a big shot footie star around campus. Remember the little men that helped you get there.”
“Oh I’m sure I can find some time for the fans,” Gwaine took a step forward until they were breathing in each other’s air. “Sign some autographs and pose for pictures and the like.”
Merlin smiled devilishly and opened his mouth to respond but closed it, his eyebrow raising and cocked his head to the side, staring at something past Gwaine’s chin. Gwaine first thought was that Arthur ‘cockblocker’ Pendragon was about again but then Merlin reached out cold fingers and brushed them against Gwaine’s neck.
“I see someone’s been tasting the university delicacy.”
Gwaine’s hand flew to the spot on his neck, where his shoulder joined now visible underneath the collar of his training shirt. Inexplicably the hickey, which had been a symbol of his prowess, a source for his confidence suddenly made guilt flood into his gut.
“I… er-“ he stuttered but Merlin just grinned. The man didn’t look upset or disappointed, but he stepped back, a rush of cold air filling the space where Merlin’s body had been previously.
His hand was still stroking back and forth across the mark, that cool touch igniting more shivers down Gwaine’s back than the mouth that had formed it. “Hum,” Merlin hummed pressing a final thumb into the mark before pulling away. “You should be careful with those, sometimes they bite.”
Gwaine could only swallow in response and then Merlin was winking and backing away, disappearing into the shadows around the pitch. Gwaine lifted a hand to the spot in his neck where Merlin’s touch had lingered, the mark now feeling more like it belonged to Merlin than the nameless girl who made it.
When he looked in the steamed mirror of the changing rooms later, almost nearly empty, he saw the reason for that. The round purple bruise that had been on his neck was still there, but its edges had faded in an odd formation. Gwaine frowned and leaned across the sink for a closer look, wiping the condensation from the mirror. The bruise had taken on a shape that looked suspiciously like an M.
Part 3
Part 2
Elyan finally left the bathroom sometime just before lunch and managed to shower and dress himself. Once he had his boots in hand, walking through the fresh crisp air of Camelot town towards the football grounds, he seemed to perk up a bit.
The trio marched through the gates to the long green training grounds bracketed on all sides with low white posts, low rise empty bleachers on one side.
There was a huddle to the side of the pitch and Elyan and Percival immediately broke off with a jaunty wave in Gwaine’s direction. But Gwaine was too busy walking towards the figure he had spotted as soon as they walked through the gates, the main reason he had bothered to come all the way down here.
But his aim was cut just short when he was confronted with a scowling Pendragon
“These are supposed to be secret trials,” Arthur grouched.
Gwaine looked over Arthur’s shoulder to where Merlin was leaning against the white posts around the pitch, not so secretly and amusedly watching. “Merlin’s here,” he pointed out.
Arthur stared over his shoulder to the man in question. Merlin just smiled back before shrugging. “He’s right, I am here.”
“Fine,” Arthur huffed, turning back to Gwaine. “Be quiet and stay out of the way.”
Gwaine smirked and took up a relaxed slouch against the pitch barriers, leaning his elbows against the white metal. The boys all donned their boots and Arthur gave a sharp toot on the whistle directing them running up and down the field. Elyan was already starting to look sick.
“That was some cure you gave me,” Gwaine mused, giving Merlin a sideways glance. The man’s lips twitched but he kept his focus out on the field.
“So you feel alright?”
“After puking out my innards, yeah.”
“Ahh,” the man replied dryly. “Perhaps I should have listed the side effects on the bottle.”
Gwaine snorted in agreement but let his focus go back to the players on the pitch. There was no doubt that Arthur had skill. He weaved through the players with the grace of a dancer, tackled with the tenacity of a boar and shot at goal with needle-point precision. But it didn’t make Gwaine like the pompous twat any better.
“So, what’s with Your Highness?” he asked shooting Merlin a look, nodding at the pitch where the blond was giving Percy a lecture about focus and some other such drivel.
“There were troubles last year,” Merlin spoke with a shrug, “within the team. Arthur wanted to do things differently this year.”
“They still won didn’t they?”
“Apparently there is a difference between winning and ‘winning with honour.” Gwaine gave Merlin the eyebrow. “I dunno….” Merlin scoffed, looking back to the field. “It’s important to Arthur.”
At the finality of Merlin’s tone Gwaine just nodded and turned his focus going back to the field. But he could still feel the warmth from Merlin's body at his side, was overly aware of every move the brunet took but Merlin seemed to be paying no more attention to him. Gwaine could take it…he could play it cool. He clicked his neck and stared, perhaps too intently, at Percival who was about to save a penalty. Feeling Gwaine’s eyes on him Percy glanced up for one second to give Gwaine a confused frown and then the striker kicked, and the ball flew right past Percy’s outstretched hand.
Percy looked at the scored ball and then back at Gwaine with a scowl before his attention was taken by a growling Pendragon. Gwaine grimaced with guilt, for only knowing these guys a few days he certainly wasn’t making their life easier.
Feeling eyes on himself he turned to see Merlin trying to stifle a broad grin and failing.. Gwaine shrugged. “What, he’s going to have to have better focus than that on the pitch. Arthur should be thanking me.”
Merlin chuckled, smiling at Gwaine wickedly from under his thick lashes. It flipped something hot and burning in Gwaine stomach, letting it sizzle and glow, it wasn’t an entirely comfortable feeling. Gwaine took in a steadying breath and turned back to the pitch. He didn’t mind the silence much after that.
*
After an innumerable amount of jumping jacks and reflex tests Arthur blew the final whistle of the try outs and brought the group together. He must have been giving out his decisions because there were a yelps of joy and a few slumped shoulders of defeat.
“Arthur likes to make gut decisions,” Merlin supplied from where his heat was still burning a hole through Gwaine’s jacket.
“Uh.” Gwaine had to admire that and watched with a smile as Percival and Elyan both grinned widely once Arthur had finished talking to them, and gave him a thumbs up. Gwaine responded in kind along with a sign to hit the pub. He wasn’t really serious he just wanted to see all the colour drain from Elyan’s face again.
Chuckling to himself Gwaine turned to see a stormy-faced man he recognised as a striker stomp off the pitch, obviously in displeasure.
Gwaine remembered him from the practice - Valiant. He had been alright on the ball, had a lethal right foot and could get massive power behind it but he hadn’t been all that graceful, and there had definitely been better players out there today, especially after he went in to tackle Arthur, missed the ball and the Captain’s ankles and ended up with his face in the dirt.
The man’s eyes twitched, catching movement from the corner of his eyes and slowly focussed his flaming eyes on Gwaine… no wait, not Gwaine - Merlin.
Valiant took a stride forward quickly; his hands fisted at his side and came to an aborted stop right in Merlin’s face. Gwaine had stiffened with every one of Valiant’s footsteps, but Merlin still leant languidly against the posts staring blandly at the spitting man.
“Stupid Daddy’s boy thinks he can dump me?!” Valiant hissed at Merlin. Gwaine looked apprehensively between the two, just waiting for his cue to step in, but Merlin didn’t look too fazed.
“Valiant, you didn’t make the team because you are a scamming cheat and not a good enough player to overlook that.” Merlin rolled his eyes and turned to leave, turning his back on the enraged player.
“It was you,” Valiant seethed, staring at Merlin’s back. “You little freak! You did something!”
For all of Valiant's bumbling footwork, he was fast when he wanted to be. Gwaine watched with horror as he grabbed Merlin’s shoulders and shoved him hard against the wooden bleachers. A little noise escaped Merlin’s mouth along with the air from his lungs, a small pained sound that jarred something deep in Gwaine’s chest.
“Oi!” he had called out before really registering that he was about to act.
Valiant turned his sneering face away from his victim towards Gwaine’s advancing enraged one which seemed to be a mistake, because Merlin shifted. Gwaine, whose eyes were fixed on his target missed what he did but Valiant yelped in pain and jumped away. Gwaine didn’t miss a beat and swung a fist, hitting Valiant squarely on the jaw.
The man dropped like a sack of potatoes and hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Gwaine winced in sympathy but quickly stepped over the felled body to reach Merlin. He was standing rather steadily, but rubbing at his wrists. Gwaine felt a resurgence of rage when he saw the red grip marks on both thin wrists.
Gwaine reached out a hand, carefully taking the wrists in his hands, running a soothing thumb over the red marks, as if his touch could erase them.
“Merlin!” Arthur’s shocked cry startled Gwaine from where he was absently stroking Merlin’s skin and standing very close. Merlin shot Gwaine a small look before giving Arthur a large grin.
“Arthur!”
“What-“ Arthur stumbled, eyes flicking between the still unconscious Valiant, Gwaine and Merlin. “What the hell?”
“It seems we can add sore loser to Valiant's faults,” Merlin shrugged stepping over the fallen man to Arthur’s side.
Arthur’s eyes zeroed in on the redness around Merlin’s wrists and his eyes widened with rage. “Did he do this?” he hissed grabbing one of the wrists roughly. Merlin winced and batted Arthur away.
“Yes but I’m fine… Gwaine saved me.”
Arthur frowned in Gwaine’s direction, sending him an incredulous eyebrow. “Gwaine saved you?”
“Yes. He did. You know, some people can grow on you if you give them a second chance,” Merlin spoke pointedly, giving Arthur a hard look.
Arthur returned the look, staring straight into Merlin’s eyes. Gwaine looked back and forth between them, seemingly in a wordless conversation. Then Merlin raised an eyebrow and Arthur’s shoulders sunk in defat.
“Fine,” he muttered, sending Gwaine a harsh look as if it were all his fault. “Bring your boots tomorrow Gwaine. You can have a trial. Only a trial!” he confirmed, giving Merlin a stare. “And if he’s shit, I am blaming you.”
Merlin didn’t seem deterred and just grinned at Arthur until the blond huffed and stormed back to the changing rooms.
Gwaine was too shocked to speak for a moment. “Why would you do that?” he choked back the ‘for me’ he wanted to add to the end.
At Merlin’s soft gaze he suspected Merlin heard it anyway. “Do you want to sit on the side-lines with me all season or do you want to play?”
Merlin gave Gwaine a cheeky smirk and a wink. And Gwaine almost replied ‘sit with you’ But then Merlin had twirled and was shouting “See you tomorrow Gwaine” over his shoulder before disappearing through the gates.
*
When Gwaine stepped out onto the field the next day he realised how much he had missed playing. Maybe not the diabolical tenacity that Arthur was expecting but the rush of wind in his hair as he outpaced the defenders, the singular focus on this ball of white leather, the camaraderie of a goal scored, even if it was just in practice.
After practice concluded, he hobbled off the training grounds towards the stands, feeling a bit sore but grinning like a fool. He lowered himself to the bleachers with a sigh and pulled at his laces. In the three months his boots had gotten testy and had decided to show their displeasure at their neglect by squishing Gwaine toes to a pulp.
“Good practice?”
Gwaine didn’t need to turn to recognise the voice. He let a small smile escape onto his lips as he tugged off the first boot and cracked his toes.
“As well as can be expected I suppose.”
“Arthur can be a bit of a driver,” Merlin agreed coming to sit next to Gwaine, their shoulders brushing. “Excellence has always been expected of him, so he demands it from others.”
Gwaine hummed in vague agreement. To be honest he didn’t really care. “So aren’t you going to get a bollocking for being late?”
Merlin chuckled. “You know I am not actually required to be here. I had a lab.”
“So you just come for my scintillating company, or to watch all the boys run around in their shorts?”
“Can’t it be both?” he shrugged. Merlin turned then, his hypnotic eyes capturing Gwaine’s attention exclusively. He felt it again, the fizzle and sizzle of something unknown creeping up his back, the feeling that half made you want to arch away and half lean back into it. As Gwaine tried not to squirm in his seat, the blue eyes twinkled with mirth and something knowing, showing intelligence and something powerful, hidden.
“Merlin!”
Merlin broke from Gwaine’s stare and Gwaine used the moment to release a deep shuddering breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. “Yes Arthur?” Merlin shouted in exasperation, not moving his head any further around to the captain than a very dismissive tilt, staring somewhere in the vicinity of Gwaine's right ear.
There was a beat of silence and Merlin raised an eyebrow in waiting.
“… Did you get the milk?”
“No.” Merlin sighed. “I will get it later. Anything else Arthur?”
Gwaine shifted his eyes to the right slightly to see Arthur stood shiftily at the bottom of the bleachers, eyes darting back and forth between Gwaine and Merlin. In the end his shoulders slumped slightly his face frowning in annoyance. “No.” he replied sullenly, almost a growl. Gwaine had to curb his response to grin at Arthur’s childish reaction and successfully pursed his lips. “Just… don’t take too long. Gwaine needs to be in the dressing room.”
Gwaine watched Arthur’s retreating back then turned back to Merlin who was staring at him, with an expectant look. And Gwaine’s brain suddenly stumbled. He knew what he would do normally when faced with a scrumptious creature that he really wanted to devour, he wouldn’t think twice. But Merlin… there was something about Merlin, something undefined and scary, something that made Gwaine feel hot and chilled at the same time. Something that made Gwaine admit he was dealing with a different kind of creature all together.
So he grinned and moved back a little. Merlin’s face creased into a small frown at the distance but Gwaine gave him a slow smile.
“I should go, the princess is calling.”
“Alright,” Merlin answered a little confused.
“You gonna to be here tomorrow?” Gwaine asked, letting his nervousness into his tone a little.
“Maybe,” Merlin’s face began to lose his frown as he considered Gwaine. “Will you be wearing shorts?”
Gwaine let his head fall back into a hearty laugh. When he looked back Merlin was grinning that devilishly sinful grin that made Gwaine want to devour it right there. “There will be a whole field of men for you to ogle.”
“Hum…” Merlin hummed giving Gwaine an obvious up-and-down that made Gwaine’s brain prickle. “Maybe I could be persuaded.”
The hot sizzle start creeping up Gwaine’s back again. “Right,” he choked taking a step back, stumbling when he misplaced his step. For the first time in years Gwaine felt the tickle of a blush against his cheeks as he looked back up to see Merlin pursing his lips in an obvious attempt to keep back a laugh.
“Take care,” Merlin chortled giving Gwaine a wave, leaning back casually against the bleachers, stretching out his long body like a feast.
Gwaine turned trying to steady his erratic breathing and threw a wave over his shoulder. When he was safely seconded in his shower cubical he allowed his sopping head to fall against the tiles in despair.
What the hell had happened to him? Gwaine was suave, he was charming. He did not stumble, he did not blush and blue eyes did not make his heart flutter like a harmless rabbit’s. He was the predator not the prey…
But then the memory of a wicked grin and sparkling blue eyes invaded his head, filling his whole brain so abruptly he had to blink and staggered against the cubical wall. He shook his head firmly, clearing his vision. He was just tired…very over-tired he mused to himself as he began to vigorously scrub at his skin.
Either that or he had lost his mind.
*
Contrary to Gwaine’s quite fervent wishes, University actually did include some lectures. Gwaine spent the majority of Monday and Tuesday flitting between the lecture halls, the library and the house blearily passing Elyan and Percy in the early mornings or evenings when they all piled onto the sofa with a can.
But in between and laced through all the day-to-day minutia of university life, a hook had latched into the back of his mind, one that was tall and slim and had pale skin that was just made to be nibbled at. Gwaine found himself drifting off in lectures wondering what shade of red the skin would turn with beard burn, what pressure on the hips would leave marks.
It was confusing and frustrating and annoying and was driving Gwaine out of his mind.
On Tuesday night Gwaine took himself out, propped himself at the bar and proved to himself that he still had it. After a few short minutes of charming grins and playful come-ons he had the giggling girl basically worshipping at his feet. Her eyes wide and black rimmed staring at him hopefully, wordlessly begging him to take her home now and have his wicked way.
So he did, he was a gentleman at least and they both had a wonderful time. Then in the morning he made her coffee and toast and let her kiss him goodbye. There was no exchange of numbers and when Percy wolf whistled at him when the door had shut and asked who the bombshell had been, he couldn’t even remember her name.
But she had served her purpose. When Wednesday rolled around he was still sporting a quite impressive love bite on between his shoulder and neck and a new spring in his step. The night’s weren’t totally dark yet but the flood lights left long shadows on the pitch as they darted about in the early night fog as the team ran back and forth across the damp turf.
He felt Merlin’s presence before he saw him, a gentle tug at the side of his consciousness. Turning, Gwaine spotted the brunet, in a thick coat and scarf, standing to the side of the pitch, a white steaming takeaway cup in his hands.
Practice went on for a few more minutes until Arthur blew the whistle. It was an odd arrangement within the squad, the coach trying to order the troops around for a while before Arthur gave the man a glare and took his whistle, suggesting as condescendingly as possible that he go have a rest in the coach’s bench.
But the whistle was blown and Gwaine was free to go. His feet seemed to move free of his mind and broke away from the stream of men funnelling into the changing room doors, taking him off to the side where a flood light illuminated Merlin’s spot.
“Hello Gwaine,” Merlin grinned, turning his body to face Gwaine’s advancing figure. “You looked good out there tonight.”
“My shorts or my skills?” Gwaine beamed back coming to stand a little closer to Merlin’s warm body than was socially acceptable, his previous hesitancies forgotten and his heart still beat like a jackrabbit and his neck still sizzled but it didn’t seem to matter; like Gwaine was a fluttering moth to Merlin’s enigmatic flame.
Merlin chuckled, shaking his head and taking a sip of his hot drink. “I can tell you, from behind enemy lines, that Arthur has been impressed. He may have mentioned that he would be starting you next Wednesday.”
Gwaine tried to suppress the glow of pride he felt at the statement but couldn’t quite smother down his pleased smile. “Well,” he coughed. “The man obviously knows talent when he sees it.”
“So I hope you remember me,” Merlin said his body canting forward, “when you are a big shot footie star around campus. Remember the little men that helped you get there.”
“Oh I’m sure I can find some time for the fans,” Gwaine took a step forward until they were breathing in each other’s air. “Sign some autographs and pose for pictures and the like.”
Merlin smiled devilishly and opened his mouth to respond but closed it, his eyebrow raising and cocked his head to the side, staring at something past Gwaine’s chin. Gwaine first thought was that Arthur ‘cockblocker’ Pendragon was about again but then Merlin reached out cold fingers and brushed them against Gwaine’s neck.
“I see someone’s been tasting the university delicacy.”
Gwaine’s hand flew to the spot on his neck, where his shoulder joined now visible underneath the collar of his training shirt. Inexplicably the hickey, which had been a symbol of his prowess, a source for his confidence suddenly made guilt flood into his gut.
“I… er-“ he stuttered but Merlin just grinned. The man didn’t look upset or disappointed, but he stepped back, a rush of cold air filling the space where Merlin’s body had been previously.
His hand was still stroking back and forth across the mark, that cool touch igniting more shivers down Gwaine’s back than the mouth that had formed it. “Hum,” Merlin hummed pressing a final thumb into the mark before pulling away. “You should be careful with those, sometimes they bite.”
Gwaine could only swallow in response and then Merlin was winking and backing away, disappearing into the shadows around the pitch. Gwaine lifted a hand to the spot in his neck where Merlin’s touch had lingered, the mark now feeling more like it belonged to Merlin than the nameless girl who made it.
When he looked in the steamed mirror of the changing rooms later, almost nearly empty, he saw the reason for that. The round purple bruise that had been on his neck was still there, but its edges had faded in an odd formation. Gwaine frowned and leaned across the sink for a closer look, wiping the condensation from the mirror. The bruise had taken on a shape that looked suspiciously like an M.
Part 3