PWC
Title: PWC
Characters (Pairings): Arthur/Merlin, mention of Uther
Ratings/Warnings: Modern Day AU, bad language
Word Count: 1189
Summary: Arthur and Merlin decide to spend some time at the Pendragon Winter Cottage. Hijinks ensue.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
A/N: An idear that wouldn't leave my head. Not beta'd. Bad language in this so if you find those words offensive, I guess you can fuck off and not read this. Modern!AU. Enjoy!
{Story Time|
The problem is that neither of them can cook. Usually it's not that big of a deal because they live in London and its so easy to go get a Chinese. But then Arthur decided to be romantic and asked his father if he and Merlin could go to the Pendragon Winter Cottage which Merlin makes fun of even though he's never been there because "It's a winter cottage! It's the PWC." "Shut the fuck up, Merlin. You don't fucking know. It's a lovely cottage. It has a wine cellar." Of course, Uther said they could go and spend the holidays there. He had been trying to be supportive of his son and his choice of partner, even though it was tough for him. About the only time that Uther and Merlin really got along well was when they were laconic.
But now they were at PWC, as Merlin continues to call it, and PWC is not near any civilization. They couldn't easily go get a Chinese. Uther had said that he'd called the employees who make sure PWC stays livable and told them to stock it with food. So Merlin and Arthur had food, which was good; however, neither of them could cook, which was not so good.
"Shitfuck, Merlin." Arthur said, speaking as he usually does when he isn't in front of his father, "I'm hungry and we have food but it's all fucking uncooked!"
"It's fine Arthur." Merlin replied, "It's going to be okay. We can manage to make food. For instance, I assume there's bread?"
"Your assumption sounds legit." Arthur nodded.
"Toast. We can have toast, yeah?" Merlin runs a hand through is hair, making it a little less unruly than it had been previously. He moved over to where he thought the bread would be living and looked around. Arthur watched in amusement as Merlin kept his feet off the floor as much as he could while standing because Merlin likes to be bare foot. Even in the winter, when the floor is freezing and Arthur tells him "For fuck's sake, Merlin. Just put on some fucking socks already or some shit. Jesus." "But Arthur! My toes will suffocate if it I do that. I can't have my toes suffocate." Luckily, Merlin found the bread easily and started to make toast.
Because they had arrived late last night, it's morning and because Merlin had decided he can brave the toaster, Arthur supposed that he could strike up the courage to face the coffee pot. After cursing at the machine for five minutes, Arthur believed he managed to make what should be a good pot of coffee. Grinning to himself, he sat at the table along with Merlin, waiting for their toast and coffee.
"Fucking succeed." Arthur grinned.
It was for not, as the toaster started smoking. Merlin ran to it and unplugged it, four black on black squares that may have once been bread popped out. As Merlin caught them in his hands, he cried out, "Oh dear!" Because while Arthur sweared like there is no tomorrow, the worse Arthur has ever hear Merlin say was "Damn." "What the fuck? Merlin did you just say-" "Arthur, I seem to have cut my hand very deeply and I think I might pass out." Which he had then promptly passed out. Since then Arthur has never let Merlin near really sharp knives.
Then the coffee was done. So Arthur walked over and got to mugs full. "Merlin, have some of my fucking amazing coffee before you try making burnt bread again." Merlin nodded and joins Arthur as Arthur took a drink of the coffee. "Fucking fuck. Fucking grounds?" He looked into his drink and sure enough, coffee grounds have taken over.
"Maybe we should trade tasks?" Merlin suggests as he stares longingly at his coffee.
So, Merlin went and poured out the coffee and Arthur grabbed more bread. "Fucking Hell, Merlin. You had the toaster set as high as it could go."
"Oh, well that explains it." Merlin nodded as he moved cautiously towards the coffee pot as if it might come alive and bite him. After poking at it for a bit, he thought he had a grasp as to what he was supposed to do.
The two sat down at the tabled and waited again. "We'll manage Arthur. We did find the bread. So, even if we can't make toast, we can eat bread."
Arthur nodded. "True, but I don't want to eat just plain bread for a fucking week."
"Bread with butter." Merlin replied. "We would get scurvy from not eating our fruit and veg, but we would survive."
"I don't want to get scurvy, Merlin." Arthur said pointedly.
When the toast and coffee were done for the second time, they collected it. The toast wasn't black, dry squares, but it was still pretty dark. "It's fine, Arthur. We can eat this toast." He took a bit and made a face. Not only was it too done, but it somehow turned out a bit rubbery.
Arthur made a face as he tried Merlin's coffee. "Well," he said after managing to swallow the severely strong and bitter coffee, "at least there isn't any fucking grounds in it."
The rest of the day passed as they'd planned. Time spent at PWC was relaxing and the get-away that they needed. Lunch had turned out to be easy enough. They had bread and meat. They could build sandwiches. But when evening came, it was tougher.
"I don't want to eat another fucking sandwich."
"What if," Merlin started, "we each try and make something. Surely one of us is able to create something worth eating."
"Good plan." Arthur conceded.
So each of them went to collect bits of food to put together, hoping that they wouldn't have to throw it all away.
Arthur ran around, getting noodles, sauce, and some cheese. "Fucking so many different kinds of cheese." He looked at all the types. "More cheese is better right? And different types compliment or some shit." He nodded to himself.
"Sounds reasonable." Merlin agreed, getting out a large pot and some broth. "Making some cheese are you?"
"Shit no. Cheese with noodles and other shit." Arthur dumped started boiling water. "Soup from you?"
"I feel like soup." Merlin nodded, gathering random food from the fridge. "I think mine will taste wonderful."
Arthur glanced at what all Merlin had in his hands. "Why the fuck do you have oranges? Are you putting fruit in your soup?"
Merlin blinked at him, appearing innocent, "I don't want us to get scurvy."
"Whatever." Arthur rolled his eyes and went about his cheese and noodles.
An hour later, they were eating uncooked noodles that had tomato sauce and herbs as well as so much cheese that they stuck together. They also had a bowl of some potatoes, broccoli, and oranges in a chicken broth. "If we practice all week and manage to make strange recopies like this taste good, we could open a restaurant and make millions with our avant-garde food."
Arthur agreed, "Fucking oranges in soup, Merlin. Bitches love oranges in soup."
Characters (Pairings): Arthur/Merlin, mention of Uther
Ratings/Warnings: Modern Day AU, bad language
Word Count: 1189
Summary: Arthur and Merlin decide to spend some time at the Pendragon Winter Cottage. Hijinks ensue.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
A/N: An idear that wouldn't leave my head. Not beta'd. Bad language in this so if you find those words offensive, I guess you can fuck off and not read this. Modern!AU. Enjoy!
{Story Time|
The problem is that neither of them can cook. Usually it's not that big of a deal because they live in London and its so easy to go get a Chinese. But then Arthur decided to be romantic and asked his father if he and Merlin could go to the Pendragon Winter Cottage which Merlin makes fun of even though he's never been there because "It's a winter cottage! It's the PWC." "Shut the fuck up, Merlin. You don't fucking know. It's a lovely cottage. It has a wine cellar." Of course, Uther said they could go and spend the holidays there. He had been trying to be supportive of his son and his choice of partner, even though it was tough for him. About the only time that Uther and Merlin really got along well was when they were laconic.
But now they were at PWC, as Merlin continues to call it, and PWC is not near any civilization. They couldn't easily go get a Chinese. Uther had said that he'd called the employees who make sure PWC stays livable and told them to stock it with food. So Merlin and Arthur had food, which was good; however, neither of them could cook, which was not so good.
"Shitfuck, Merlin." Arthur said, speaking as he usually does when he isn't in front of his father, "I'm hungry and we have food but it's all fucking uncooked!"
"It's fine Arthur." Merlin replied, "It's going to be okay. We can manage to make food. For instance, I assume there's bread?"
"Your assumption sounds legit." Arthur nodded.
"Toast. We can have toast, yeah?" Merlin runs a hand through is hair, making it a little less unruly than it had been previously. He moved over to where he thought the bread would be living and looked around. Arthur watched in amusement as Merlin kept his feet off the floor as much as he could while standing because Merlin likes to be bare foot. Even in the winter, when the floor is freezing and Arthur tells him "For fuck's sake, Merlin. Just put on some fucking socks already or some shit. Jesus." "But Arthur! My toes will suffocate if it I do that. I can't have my toes suffocate." Luckily, Merlin found the bread easily and started to make toast.
Because they had arrived late last night, it's morning and because Merlin had decided he can brave the toaster, Arthur supposed that he could strike up the courage to face the coffee pot. After cursing at the machine for five minutes, Arthur believed he managed to make what should be a good pot of coffee. Grinning to himself, he sat at the table along with Merlin, waiting for their toast and coffee.
"Fucking succeed." Arthur grinned.
It was for not, as the toaster started smoking. Merlin ran to it and unplugged it, four black on black squares that may have once been bread popped out. As Merlin caught them in his hands, he cried out, "Oh dear!" Because while Arthur sweared like there is no tomorrow, the worse Arthur has ever hear Merlin say was "Damn." "What the fuck? Merlin did you just say-" "Arthur, I seem to have cut my hand very deeply and I think I might pass out." Which he had then promptly passed out. Since then Arthur has never let Merlin near really sharp knives.
Then the coffee was done. So Arthur walked over and got to mugs full. "Merlin, have some of my fucking amazing coffee before you try making burnt bread again." Merlin nodded and joins Arthur as Arthur took a drink of the coffee. "Fucking fuck. Fucking grounds?" He looked into his drink and sure enough, coffee grounds have taken over.
"Maybe we should trade tasks?" Merlin suggests as he stares longingly at his coffee.
So, Merlin went and poured out the coffee and Arthur grabbed more bread. "Fucking Hell, Merlin. You had the toaster set as high as it could go."
"Oh, well that explains it." Merlin nodded as he moved cautiously towards the coffee pot as if it might come alive and bite him. After poking at it for a bit, he thought he had a grasp as to what he was supposed to do.
The two sat down at the tabled and waited again. "We'll manage Arthur. We did find the bread. So, even if we can't make toast, we can eat bread."
Arthur nodded. "True, but I don't want to eat just plain bread for a fucking week."
"Bread with butter." Merlin replied. "We would get scurvy from not eating our fruit and veg, but we would survive."
"I don't want to get scurvy, Merlin." Arthur said pointedly.
When the toast and coffee were done for the second time, they collected it. The toast wasn't black, dry squares, but it was still pretty dark. "It's fine, Arthur. We can eat this toast." He took a bit and made a face. Not only was it too done, but it somehow turned out a bit rubbery.
Arthur made a face as he tried Merlin's coffee. "Well," he said after managing to swallow the severely strong and bitter coffee, "at least there isn't any fucking grounds in it."
The rest of the day passed as they'd planned. Time spent at PWC was relaxing and the get-away that they needed. Lunch had turned out to be easy enough. They had bread and meat. They could build sandwiches. But when evening came, it was tougher.
"I don't want to eat another fucking sandwich."
"What if," Merlin started, "we each try and make something. Surely one of us is able to create something worth eating."
"Good plan." Arthur conceded.
So each of them went to collect bits of food to put together, hoping that they wouldn't have to throw it all away.
Arthur ran around, getting noodles, sauce, and some cheese. "Fucking so many different kinds of cheese." He looked at all the types. "More cheese is better right? And different types compliment or some shit." He nodded to himself.
"Sounds reasonable." Merlin agreed, getting out a large pot and some broth. "Making some cheese are you?"
"Shit no. Cheese with noodles and other shit." Arthur dumped started boiling water. "Soup from you?"
"I feel like soup." Merlin nodded, gathering random food from the fridge. "I think mine will taste wonderful."
Arthur glanced at what all Merlin had in his hands. "Why the fuck do you have oranges? Are you putting fruit in your soup?"
Merlin blinked at him, appearing innocent, "I don't want us to get scurvy."
"Whatever." Arthur rolled his eyes and went about his cheese and noodles.
An hour later, they were eating uncooked noodles that had tomato sauce and herbs as well as so much cheese that they stuck together. They also had a bowl of some potatoes, broccoli, and oranges in a chicken broth. "If we practice all week and manage to make strange recopies like this taste good, we could open a restaurant and make millions with our avant-garde food."
Arthur agreed, "Fucking oranges in soup, Merlin. Bitches love oranges in soup."