We Need to Talk About Merlin [Part 6]
Author: schweet_heart
Title: We Need to Talk About Merlin [Part 6]
Rating: NC-17 [this part]
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Edwin, Merlin/Gwaine (one-sided)
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine
Summary: Merlin has a new boyfriend. Morgana doesn't like him. Somehow, Arthur winds up stuck in the middle.
[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | AO3 | Merlocked18's Art | Sequel ]
Warnings: Further questionable life decisions. Drunk sex.
Word Count: 1000 words.
Prompt: Ham 4 Cam #2 (My Shot)
Author's Notes: So, this is the last part of this fic. I promise there will be a sequel, though! Also, the typos in the texts are deliberate, I swear.
Given the way his night is going, it comes as no surprise to find that leaving is easier said than done. Arthur is still shrugging into his coat when Gwaine arrives in the lobby, strutting out of the lift like a model on a catwalk. That’s not an exaggeration, either: he even pouts his lips a little when he sees Arthur watching, flicking his long hair casually out of his eyes.
“Hey, Arthur, glad I caught you,” he says. Arthur stops a few feet from the doors, gritting his teeth. He’d been so close.
“What do you want, Gwaine?”
“I wanted to ask you something.” His smirk makes Arthur’s temples throb. “It’s about Merlin.”
Of course it is. The Powers that Be must really hate him tonight. Arthur hoists a smile onto his face, trying to look politely interested in whatever Gwaine is about to say.
“What about him?”
“Are you guys together anymore, or not?” Gwaine asks, arms folded. “Morgana says not, but I’m not blind: I know smouldering UST when it slow dances in front of me.”
He raises his eyebrows meaningfully, and Arthur can feel himself flush.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says curtly. “Me and Merlin? Why would you think that?”
“Have you seen Merlin?” Gwaine demands, sounding incredulous. His face goes dreamy for a moment. “That arse...You can’t tell me you haven’t watched him swanning around the office in those tight pants and wondered what he might look like bent over your desk. The man is gorgeous.”
Arthur glares. It’s not as if he hasn’t thought about it sometimes, especially on those days when Merlin is inclined to shoot off at the mouth about how much of a prat he is. There’s something about the way Merlin looks when he’s irritated, his cheeks flushed and blue eyes flashing, that makes Arthur want to kiss the scowl right off his face. And possibly shag him senseless in the middle of the office. But he’s not about to tell Gwaine that.
The other man is watching him expectantly, and Arthur realises he’s still waiting for an answer. He pulls his coat closer around his body.
“Merlin and I are - “ His throat sticks for a moment. “We’re old friends. We dated once back in uni, but it didn’t last. That’s all.”
“Ah.” Gwaine’s face clears. “Great. Well, not so great for you, but definitely great for me! So...you don’t mind if I take a shot, then?”
Yes, Arthur thinks. I really do. “It’s not my place to say,” he answers evasively. “If Merlin wants to go out with you, that’s his business.”
“Right, of course. Excellent. Didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes, that's all.” He claps Arthur on the shoulder, then nods towards the ornate glass doors, through which they can see a steady fall of snow. “Watch yourself out there, Princess; wouldn’t want to break that pretty face.”
“Thanks,” Arthur says sourly. Gwaine flashes him a shit-eating grin and jogs back inside, whistling jauntily to himself.
Arthur watches him go, then buttons up his coat, stepping out into the cold with his shoulders hunched around his ears. Outside, a row of sleek taxi cabs is idling in the snow, waiting to take intoxicated guests home from the party. Arthur climbs into the nearest one and gives the driver his address. The cold leather of the seat is soothing, but the feel of it against his skin only reminds him of the couch in the hotel. It had been so effortless between them: Merlin grinning mischievously as he rolled the condom over Arthur’s cock; the easy way he’d stretched to take him in, as if he’d already been prepared for such an eventuality.
“Valentine’s Day,” he’d muttered, in response to Arthur’s questioning eyebrow, and blushed when Arthur smirked at him. Arthur had kissed him then, hitching his hips just slightly until the other man gasped and bore down, and had set about driving him slowly crazy, drinking in the small sounds of pleasure Merlin made as Arthur coaxed him to his peak. During the clean-up, it had been on the tip of his tongue to confess everything, never mind that Merlin was drunk and heartbroken and probably didn’t want to hear it, but some instinct made him hold the words back. He couldn’t just blurt out his feelings like that; he wanted the moment to be perfect. So he'd waited, thinking they could talk once the night was over. Maybe over a drink or two back at his flat, if he timed things right.
Except - first Morgana had interrupted them, then he’d more or less told Gwaine to ask Merlin out, and now here he is, taking a taxi home alone. Without Merlin. Clearly, he is an idiot.
“I’m an idiot,” he says out loud. The driver isn’t paying much attention, but Arthur can see him flick an amused glance at him in the rearview mirror. Mortified, he sinks down in his seat and stares out the window.
Perhaps it will end up being for the best. Whatever he feels for Merlin, the timing of it is all wrong: Merlin had just broken up with his boyfriend, for God’s sake, and if Arthur had been thinking straight earlier he'd have insisted they put a stop to things before they went too far. Alas, hindsight. He closes his eyes and tips his head back, Morgana’s words about ill-advised rebound sex ringing in his ears like a warning klaxon, only far too late.
A few blocks from his flat, Arthur’s phone buzzes.
Merlin: Where are you? Morgana keeps threatening to make me tango. Am hiding behind the buffet. Send help.
Arthur stares at the text for a long moment, then shakes himself and taps out a response.
Arthur: Gne home. Headache. Distract Morgana w sumthing shiny & she wjll leave u alone.
He hesitates, then sends another message even briefer than the first:
Arthur: Have a good nite. C u Monday. xx
He turns the phone off without waiting for a reply.
Title: We Need to Talk About Merlin [Part 6]
Rating: NC-17 [this part]
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Edwin, Merlin/Gwaine (one-sided)
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine
Summary: Merlin has a new boyfriend. Morgana doesn't like him. Somehow, Arthur winds up stuck in the middle.
[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | AO3 | Merlocked18's Art | Sequel ]
Warnings: Further questionable life decisions. Drunk sex.
Word Count: 1000 words.
Prompt: Ham 4 Cam #2 (My Shot)
Author's Notes: So, this is the last part of this fic. I promise there will be a sequel, though! Also, the typos in the texts are deliberate, I swear.
Given the way his night is going, it comes as no surprise to find that leaving is easier said than done. Arthur is still shrugging into his coat when Gwaine arrives in the lobby, strutting out of the lift like a model on a catwalk. That’s not an exaggeration, either: he even pouts his lips a little when he sees Arthur watching, flicking his long hair casually out of his eyes.
“Hey, Arthur, glad I caught you,” he says. Arthur stops a few feet from the doors, gritting his teeth. He’d been so close.
“What do you want, Gwaine?”
“I wanted to ask you something.” His smirk makes Arthur’s temples throb. “It’s about Merlin.”
Of course it is. The Powers that Be must really hate him tonight. Arthur hoists a smile onto his face, trying to look politely interested in whatever Gwaine is about to say.
“What about him?”
“Are you guys together anymore, or not?” Gwaine asks, arms folded. “Morgana says not, but I’m not blind: I know smouldering UST when it slow dances in front of me.”
He raises his eyebrows meaningfully, and Arthur can feel himself flush.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says curtly. “Me and Merlin? Why would you think that?”
“Have you seen Merlin?” Gwaine demands, sounding incredulous. His face goes dreamy for a moment. “That arse...You can’t tell me you haven’t watched him swanning around the office in those tight pants and wondered what he might look like bent over your desk. The man is gorgeous.”
Arthur glares. It’s not as if he hasn’t thought about it sometimes, especially on those days when Merlin is inclined to shoot off at the mouth about how much of a prat he is. There’s something about the way Merlin looks when he’s irritated, his cheeks flushed and blue eyes flashing, that makes Arthur want to kiss the scowl right off his face. And possibly shag him senseless in the middle of the office. But he’s not about to tell Gwaine that.
The other man is watching him expectantly, and Arthur realises he’s still waiting for an answer. He pulls his coat closer around his body.
“Merlin and I are - “ His throat sticks for a moment. “We’re old friends. We dated once back in uni, but it didn’t last. That’s all.”
“Ah.” Gwaine’s face clears. “Great. Well, not so great for you, but definitely great for me! So...you don’t mind if I take a shot, then?”
Yes, Arthur thinks. I really do. “It’s not my place to say,” he answers evasively. “If Merlin wants to go out with you, that’s his business.”
“Right, of course. Excellent. Didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes, that's all.” He claps Arthur on the shoulder, then nods towards the ornate glass doors, through which they can see a steady fall of snow. “Watch yourself out there, Princess; wouldn’t want to break that pretty face.”
“Thanks,” Arthur says sourly. Gwaine flashes him a shit-eating grin and jogs back inside, whistling jauntily to himself.
Arthur watches him go, then buttons up his coat, stepping out into the cold with his shoulders hunched around his ears. Outside, a row of sleek taxi cabs is idling in the snow, waiting to take intoxicated guests home from the party. Arthur climbs into the nearest one and gives the driver his address. The cold leather of the seat is soothing, but the feel of it against his skin only reminds him of the couch in the hotel. It had been so effortless between them: Merlin grinning mischievously as he rolled the condom over Arthur’s cock; the easy way he’d stretched to take him in, as if he’d already been prepared for such an eventuality.
“Valentine’s Day,” he’d muttered, in response to Arthur’s questioning eyebrow, and blushed when Arthur smirked at him. Arthur had kissed him then, hitching his hips just slightly until the other man gasped and bore down, and had set about driving him slowly crazy, drinking in the small sounds of pleasure Merlin made as Arthur coaxed him to his peak. During the clean-up, it had been on the tip of his tongue to confess everything, never mind that Merlin was drunk and heartbroken and probably didn’t want to hear it, but some instinct made him hold the words back. He couldn’t just blurt out his feelings like that; he wanted the moment to be perfect. So he'd waited, thinking they could talk once the night was over. Maybe over a drink or two back at his flat, if he timed things right.
Except - first Morgana had interrupted them, then he’d more or less told Gwaine to ask Merlin out, and now here he is, taking a taxi home alone. Without Merlin. Clearly, he is an idiot.
“I’m an idiot,” he says out loud. The driver isn’t paying much attention, but Arthur can see him flick an amused glance at him in the rearview mirror. Mortified, he sinks down in his seat and stares out the window.
Perhaps it will end up being for the best. Whatever he feels for Merlin, the timing of it is all wrong: Merlin had just broken up with his boyfriend, for God’s sake, and if Arthur had been thinking straight earlier he'd have insisted they put a stop to things before they went too far. Alas, hindsight. He closes his eyes and tips his head back, Morgana’s words about ill-advised rebound sex ringing in his ears like a warning klaxon, only far too late.
A few blocks from his flat, Arthur’s phone buzzes.
Merlin: Where are you? Morgana keeps threatening to make me tango. Am hiding behind the buffet. Send help.
Arthur stares at the text for a long moment, then shakes himself and taps out a response.
Arthur: Gne home. Headache. Distract Morgana w sumthing shiny & she wjll leave u alone.
He hesitates, then sends another message even briefer than the first:
Arthur: Have a good nite. C u Monday. xx
He turns the phone off without waiting for a reply.