Kink Me! #24
Kink Me! #24
Closed to new prompts - go to the newest meme!Welcome to Kink Me! Merlin #24!
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“Ah, look who’s decided to rejoin the living,” said Gwaine, shirtless as almost-always, pouring a cup of coffee.
“I hate you,” grumbled Arthur, bracing himself on the countertop. Gwaine slid the mug over to him. “I love you.”
Gwaine chuckled, digging another mug out of the cupboard to pour a cup for himself. “Well, that was the quite the night, eh?”
“Was it?” mumbled Arthur, sipping at the coffee.
“Well, first, we found Gary.”
Arthur nearly choked. “We did?!” he sputtered. Right on cue, Gary leapt up onto to the counter, nudging Arthur’s arm with his nose.
“Obviously,” said Gwaine.
“Gary!” Arthur exclaimed, scooping up the cat. There were few creatures he was so affectionate to as Gary-Morgana and Gwen, perhaps. Or…Morgana. “Where did you run off to, you damn feline?”
“Ran to Merlin’s, apparently.”
“Who’s Merlin?”
Gwaine laughed. “You don’t remember? Oh, you did a number on yourself, didn’t you? My friend Merlin found Gary and brought him by. You were fantastically drunk-really, Arthur, it was beautiful-”
“It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“Arthur, you tried to tackle him, screaming ‘You stole the Mystery Machine!’”
Arthur gasped, burying his face in his folded arms. “Oh my god I thought that was a dream.”
“A beautiful, beautiful dream,” said Gwaine, smiling ear-to-ear. “Do you want a bagel?”
“Yeah, pass me the-wait, when did I get bagels?” Arthur sat up. “I didn’t have bagels before-did we go get bagels?”
“We didn’t,” said Gwaine. A blonde girl popped her head into the kitchen, hair a mess, wearing Gwaine’s missing shirt. “Elena stopped by!”
“Oh my god you didn’t,” Arthur groaned.
“We did,” Elena admitted. She had the decency to at least look ashamed of herself.
“Twice!” added Gwaine cheerily.
“I’m going back to bed.” Arthur shuffled back to his room, taking his coffee and his cat with him.
Arthur burrowed into his bed, Gary snuggling in with him. He pulled the blankets over his head, taking comfort in the feeling of being cocooned. Gary butted his head against Arthur’s face before curling up against his chest. The guy with the van…what had Gwaine said his name was? Merlin, that was it. Arthur only remembered the previous night fuzzily, but he from his foggy recollections could pick out pale skin and blue, blue eyes under shaggy, dark hair.
“Merlin…” he murmured against Gary’s soft, dark fur. He hoped he’d see him again.
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AN: Well I hope you all liked it! The next bit is half-done, and I'll try to have it up in the next few days. :D
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The boys as daddies. My ovaries kind of imploded.
AND THE MYSTERY MACHINE. (I saw your anon!fail and I just want to say eee, you've been writing some of my favourite fluffy fills lately, and this looks like it'll be no exception. ADORABLE.)
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This:
“I saw Taken twenty-seven times, man-they’re going to sell us into a prostitution ring!”
and this:
“Arthur, you tried to tackle him, screaming ‘You stole the Mystery Machine!’”
are win.
Arthur and Gwaine are amazing, hahaha, and same to you, Anon. This is the cutest, funniest fic ever and I'm really excited for more :]
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I love Arthur and Merlin with baby! So sweet and funny.
And the "Then..." part was gold. I love Arthur and Gwaine's interactions and shenanigans.
Can't wait for more!
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--
Now...
“Uncle Merlin, help!” cried Mason as Arthur snatched him up and let their combined weight push them both backwards into the surf.
“Look, Bran,” said Merlin, leaning on his elbows so that he was eye-level with his son, “that’s what you get to look forward to. Good luck.” Bran squealed happily and poked Merlin’s lip. He playfully pretended to bite him, and Bran giggled louder.
“Is he all right out in the sun?” asked Gwen, always the worrier. She gazed down at the child in her arms with concern. “He’s got such fair skin.”
“Gwen,” said Merlin, “first of all, that’s why we bought the umbrella and the baby sunblock. Second of all, look at Morgana. Look at me. Look at Bran. Does this equation make sense to you?”
“I know, I know, I just-”
“Worry,” Merlin finished for her. He sat up and pecked her on the cheek. “We love you for it.”
Down from where they sat on the beach blankets, Lance and Arthur seemed to be playing a game which involved the tossing of Lance’s three-year-old son back and forth like a beach ball. Due to their logic, it was okay if they dropped him-the water was right there.
“I’m surprised you’re not breaking that up,” Merlin commented.
“Mason’s too much like him, this game was his idea.” Gwen sighed. “I can’t stop nature.”
Arthur caught Mason and fell back into the water, shouting. His sudden disappearance caused Bran to start crying.
“Oh, poor baby,” Gwen tried to comfort him. “He’s all right, hun, I promise. He’s just silly.” She ended up having to hand Bran over to Merlin, but he didn’t really stop fussing until Arthur and Lance and Mason made their way back up the sandy beach to the spot they’d staked out early in the day.
“What’s this?” asked Arthur as Mason slid off his back and promptly began rolling in the sand. “You broke him, Merlin!”
“Gwen did it!” Merlin passed the baby off to Arthur.
“Not a lady’s man, hm? Well, we’re raising him right.”
“Mason, love, what are you doing?” Gwen exclaimed, seeing her son standing there with every last inch of him covered in sand.
“I’m a Molly Sadie, mommy!” said Mason, delighted.
“He’s a what?” asked Merlin.
Lance laughed. “A malasada. Fried dough covered in sugar. There’s this Portuguese bakery in Provincetown that makes them, it’s his favorite place in the world.”
“Well, if you’re gonna have a favorite place in the world, the best place in the world is a pretty good one,” Arthur told the boy.
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“Help!” Merlin yelled as he struggled. “Mason, come on!”
Mason narrowed his eyes at Merlin and bit into his sandwich with a look that said ‘Yeah, not so funny now, is it?’
“Come on, darling, the water’ll do you good!” said Arthur. He managed to get Merlin off his feet and despite the skinnier man’s kicking and flailing, the battle was already won.
“Arthur!” Merlin cried. “Put me down!” He could hear Bran’s squeaky laughter. “Come on, I give up, you win! I surrender!”
“Oh, that part comes later, love,” Arthur purred seductively in his ear, and Merlin was momentarily distracted-then suddenly there was water; not cold, but not as warm as the air, and Merlin resurfaced, shaking his head to get his wet hair out of his eyes. He instinctively pounced on Arthur in retaliation, and the both of them went under.
“We’ve got us a fighter!” Arthur shouted back to Gwen and Lance as he fended off Merlin’s comparatively week pushes and shoves. “I don’t know if I can take him!” He dropped his defenses and let Merlin grab him. “Ah! He’s got me! Remember me fondly, friends!” He proceeded to be dragged under the water’s surface with a performance worthy of Jaws.
“Ham!” Lance accused.
“Daddy, is Uncle Arthur really made of ham?” Mason asked, eyeing his ham-and-cheese sandwich.
“No, just cheese.” He smiled at Mason. “The smelly kind.”
“Lancelot, honestly,” Gwen tried to sound reprimanding, but she couldn’t hide a smile. Arthur and Merlin were still wrestling in the waves, Merlin having seemingly forgotten that he hadn’t wanted to get wet in the first place, in favor of just rolling around in the water with Arthur. They were still those two boys from the playground. “They’ll never change, will they?”
“They better not,” said Lance. Then, in his best Alan Rickman impression, “Up would become down, black would become white…”
--
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Then…
Arthur hadn’t wanted to go. It was a luau, for Christ’s sake, in Massachusetts. But it was Gwaine’s birthday, so what had he really expected?
“What’s in this?” he asked Gwaine in reference to the drink in his fake coconut cup. He had to shout to be heard over the blaring music.
“What?”
“DUDE, WHAT IS IN THIS?”
“HAWAII,” Gwaine shouted back.
Arthur rolled his eyes and left the dance area. He couldn’t go far, though-he’d already committed himself to stay the night, at Elena’s father’s cabin. He remembered coming here as a child, for brief weekend vacations with his father that invariably turned into Uther leaving Arthur with Elena and Godwyn in favor of returning to the office. And now the place was lit up with tiki torches and strings of lanterns hanging from tree to tree, and there were just so many people there-people Arthur had never met before, because Gwaine’s crowd was completely foreign to him.
Then he saw them. Of course, of course, he should have known-Gwaine was neutral, and had no reason not to invite them, because he’d made it clear that sparing Arthur’s feelings was not worth snubbing them.
He swore softly, backing away. He’d already realized that he’d never have been able to love her like he did, though in truth he had really loved her and it would be a good while before the sting of her leaving stopped smarting completely.
They were dancing, they looked happy, but her eyes were looking for him, he could tell.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he chanted under his breath, looking for a place to hide. The cabin would be perfect-he’d just lock himself in the room he was staying in, that would work just fine-but the dance floor was between him and it. Maybe if he went into the trees and circled round-fuck! she was looking at him-he dove behind a large tree and hit something hard. Another tree? If he did, it was a sapling, and it went over easily.
Then the sapling spoke. Yelped, rather. “Agh! Ouch! Shit!”
“Fuck, sorry-are you okay?” Arthur asked, squinting. He couldn’t tell who it was he’d inadvertently tackled.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I just need to-you can get off me any time, you know,” said the victim. His tone wasn’t annoyed or angry, it was casual and teasing, which was amazing to Arthur. If someone had jumped on him in the dark in the woods, he’d be pissed to no end.
“Yeah, sorry, sorry,” he said hurriedly, scrambling backward and sitting there on the ground with his back against the tree. (His top priority was still avoiding them.)
The guy was cursing softly as he clambered out of the tree’s shadow into the light from the party. Arthur said “Hey!” in surprise and the guy looked up at him and recognition flashed in his face like lightning in the summer night.
“Arthur, right?” asked Merlin. “Gwaine’s friend.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” Arthur shrugged, a weird excitement making his lungs feel clammy. It had been a month-no, two, two months since the guy with the van had brought Gary back to him, and he’d given up hope he’d see him again (and he’d absolutely refused to approach the subject with Gwaine; out of the question).
“I’m Merlin,” said Merlin, smiling and holding out his hand, which Arthur shook, biting back the automatic response of ‘I know,’ that wanted to get out. Like he hadn’t been playing that name over in his head for two months, just waiting for a second chance, praying for a second chance…
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“Shit, I’m sorry,” said Arthur, and he could have kicked himself. A third chance, all he wanted was a third chance.
“No, no, it’s fine-I was the antisocial creeper hiding behind the tree,” said Merlin with a smile.
“What were you doing?” asked Arthur. Maybe if he got them both talking, he’d forget how horribly he kept screwing up.
“There was an owl on a tree right down there,” said Merlin. “I think I got a couple of decent shots.”
“Hobby of yours?” Arthur gestured to the camera.
“I guess you could say that.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, to call it my job it has to make me money, right? If all it does is make me happy, it’s a hobby.” Seeing Arthur’s still-slightly-confused expression, he laughed and said, “I’m a photographer. Going through my starving artist stage at the moment.”
Arthur wasn’t sure what else to say except “Oh…”
“It’s fun, though,” Merlin assured him. “I…well, uh,” he coughed, seemingly to hide his discomfort, “wh-what were you, uh, jumping behind the tree for?”
“Oh…” Arthur said again, looking down at his hands. “I just…needed to get out of there.”
“I see,” said Merlin, and Arthur felt like maybe he really did. Ever since…well, everything that happened, people had tried to convince him how they understood what he was going through, and it just pissed him off because they didn’t understand. People so often mix up sympathy and empathy and end up hurting who they’re trying to heal. But Merlin…Merlin was different, and maybe it was just because Arthur was entirely, shamelessly smitten with him. He could deal with that.
Merlin got to his feet and held out a hand to help Arthur up. He retrieved a satchel from the ground and pointed down the slight slope. “Parties aren’t particularly my thing. Walk with me?”
Which was how Arthur found himself walking through these woods he hadn’t trekked since he was in high school-which, though not far behind him chronologically, seemed an eternity ago-with a man he’d met by chance for the second time.
Somehow, he didn’t know exactly how, Merlin got him to spill his guts. He started with telling him the real reason he’d dived behind the tree, and from there moved steadily backward in the tale until he realized he may as well just go back and tell it from the start, so that’s what he did. He talked about how he’d known Gwen for years and they’d started dating towards the end of high school, and how he spent half the time at her place and she spent the other half at his, and he was friends with her brother and got on exceedingly well with her father. Likewise, she was close with Morgana and Uther approved of the match entirely. He told Merlin about how he’d thought he would marry her and he’d been looking at rings-he’d been looking at rings, for fuck’s sake!-and then suddenly it was her and Lance and Arthur was out of the picture.
And Merlin just listened, patient, quiet, offering noncommittal noises when he supposed to. He didn’t have to say more just yet; merely his presence was comforting. Arthur had a fleeting thought that he should feel somewhat embarrassed, just offering up his entire heartbroken tale to this complete stranger, but it just felt right. Like pulling out a splinter, or a thorn. The anticipation of the pain had kept him from doing it for so long, and then it seemed the easiest thing in the world to just yank it out, and now the infected blood was trickling out, and it hurt but it felt so good, so relieving.
“Wow,” said Merlin, after Arthur was done. They had reached the lake. The softly rippling surface was almost a perfect reflection of the sky, framed by the trees. They just stood there, on the edge of the water, facing each other. Pausing.
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“You can’t handle them as a couple just yet,” Merlin provided.
“Yes, yes, exactly.”
Merlin nodded absently, pursing his lips thoughtfully. Arthur stood on the edge of a precipice, a huge drop-off, he felt as though he’d topple right off, but the anticipation of Merlin’s words pushed up, keeping him on solid ground.
Finally, Merlin said, “I wish there was something for me to say. You know, advice, or something. But there’s not. There’s no real solution to your problem because it’s not like a disease or something to be cured or fixed, it’s just an experience. A pretty fucked-up experience, but I think you’ll be stronger for it eventually.” He shrugged, fiddling with the strap of his camera bag. “And you obviously loved her, and nothing all-bad can come of really loving someone. There’s a silver lining somewhere.” He grimaced. “God, this is the last thing you want to hear, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I’m horrible at advice, I just start spouting nonsense and it never helps anyone and-”
“Actually,” Arthur interrupted. “I think…I think that’s exactly what I needed to hear.”
Merlin looked less nervous, but still tense. “So do you think you’re really over her?” he asked as they started walking again, along the craggy shoreline.
“Yeah, I do.” Arthur kicked as a pebble and a handful of them skittered across the rocks, rolling into the water, momentarily destroying the relative silence of the air, the relative stillness of the water. “I just don’t know what to do with myself now. I mean, I had my whole future planned out, and now it’s just not an option. And then I thought, maybe, I’d just sort of wallow in it for the rest of my life, and I can’t do that either, not if I’m over it.”
“Well, isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?” Merlin said. “Nobody knows what’s going to happen to them tomorrow, or next week, or ten years from now. What’s the point in it, anyway, if you know what’s going to happen? It’s like if someone tells me how a book ends-I’ll still read the book, but I’m not as excited about it because I just keep thinking ‘Hey, he’s gonna die, don’t get too attached to him,’ but I will inevitably fall completely in love with the character and then I’ll spend the entire time a sobbing wreck because I know he dies.” Merlin paused, bit his lip. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling now. And I’m a complete lit dork, now you know. I’ve read more Shakespeare than most people realize existed and I stayed up all night at Barnes & Noble waiting for the last Harry Potter book. Go on, mock me.”
Arthur laughed. “I’m working on my Master’s degree in Literature.”
Now Merlin laughed, and he couldn’t stop, and soon Arthur was laughing too, because he had three different editions of Shakespeare’s complete works, and he’d waited four hours just to get into the bookstore that fateful night of July 21st. They were laughing so hard they had to sit down right there on the rocks. Arthur laid down and thought he might die; he couldn’t breathe. Merlin hugged his stomach, tears running down his face.
“Oh god,” Arthur said, breathless with laughter, still sort of laughing. He expected that even after he finally ground to a halt he’d still be in danger of the brakes giving out. “What the hell am I going to do with my life?”
“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning,” said Merlin, “but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”
“John Green?”
“Maria Robinson.”
“I have never heard of her,” said Arthur, with some reverence. It wasn’t often he said that.
Merlin smiled. “Would you like to?”
Arthur sat up and looked at him. “I think I would.”
And so Merlin and Arthur began.
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AN: More soon, I promise! Ugh these boys are just so cute--I can't get enough of them!
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This is heartwarming and charming and just perfect.
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good job!
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