Chapter 4
It was 70 DEGREES today in DC! it was glorious. so I spent the afternoon outside working on the next chapter. it's so much easier to write fluff in the sunshine :D
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Title: Heartbreak, Secret Friends, and Stupid Doodles (4/5)
Beta: maybelater__
Official Cheerleader/Jedi Master: rufflefeather
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen/Lance
Rating: still PG, dammit!
Warnings: a couple curse words, a little (legal) drunkenness
Word Count: approx 9,000 this chp, (24,800 overall so far!)
Summary: Modern uni AU: Merlin has a secret crush on Arthur, who has no idea who he is. When Arthur has a bad break up, Merlin takes it upon himself to cheer him up. Secretly, of course.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to rufflefeather, who put up with my whining the entire way through, and helped sort out the plot points for the rest of the story. she basically deserves co-author credit for this chapter, and I couldn't have gotten through it without her (YOU ARE THE OBI-WAN TO MY ANAKIN, BB. except for the whole turning-to-the-dark-side thing. but the rest, totally.).
and to maybelater__, who took the time to clean this up even though she's been super busy. YOU ARE MY HERO.
ALSO, you may notice that there is now a final chapter count! YES, there will be one more chapter after this! it feels about time to be wrapping it up, right? I don't want to keep you guys stringing along forever XP ALMOST THERE, stick with me just a little longer!
Past chapters:
Chapter 1 (with further notes and credits)
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Also check out the Masterpost for the Soundtrack, and more gorgeous banners!
Monday morning arrived far too soon for Merlin’s tastes. The weekend seemed like a blur of beer and waffles and too much time spent wallowing in his bed with the sheets pulled over his head, as if that could block out the rest of the world indefinitely. Of course, time had chosen this weekend to speed back up. It figured.
At least he had managed to apologize to Gwen and Lance. The three of them went out for brunch Saturday afternoon and he humbly begged their pardon, while plying them with endless plates of waffles and bacon (a sure way to win Lance’s heart, at least). They both assured Merlin that it was forgiven and forgotten, though Gwen couldn’t resist teasing him about some of the things he had said (he really didn’t remember ranting incoherently about his penis, and since there was no proof, he was going to stick with adamant denial).
With that settled, Lance had tried to steer the conversation back to the Arthur Issue and what Merlin was going to do. They hadn’t exactly been productive Friday night, what with Merlin completely in his cups, but Merlin refused to talk about that anymore. He subtly redirected the conversation to lemurs and the fascinating things he had learned from a recent nature program (Okay, maybe it wasn’t terribly subtle, but they were kind enough to take the hint and let the issue drop. Then again, Gwen was always easily distracted by talk of cute animals.).
Merlin’s mind hadn’t been so accommodating, though, and was constantly reminding him of his looming decision. Much as he tried to numb his brain with endless telly marathons (he’d managed to re-watch the entire Firefly series in a day and a half), the knowledge of that decision was still there, like a persistent itch, niggling at the back of his mind.
Merlin had made his decision. He knew what he had to do, as much as some parts of his mind might seem to disagree. In fact, this whole split-mind thing was starting to become a problem. What would he do when he couldn’t even agree with himself on what to have for lunch? It had to stop.
Merlin dragged himself to class with a level of reluctance generally reserved for doctor visits and awkward family reunions. He had never dreaded going to class so much, even in the midst of exams. Merlin dropped his reply note on Arthur’s desk and slid into his seat, immediately burying his head in his arms. He didn’t want to watch today, but he couldn’t help himself; his eyes were magnetically pulled in Arthur’s direction.
Arthur showed up looking much like Merlin felt, which was a bit shocking. His usual flawless façade was slightly crumpled, like he had been in a rush this morning, or run his hands through his hair a little too vigorously. His brows were wrinkled in an uncharacteristic frown, the lines of his body tense. In fact, he looked downright nervous. Arthur Pendragon nervous about something silly like a note. Merlin was probably reading too much into things; it could be something else entirely that had Arthur on edge this morning, but when Arthur’s eyes fell on the note, he quickened his pace towards the desk and snatched it up eagerly.
Merlin decided he couldn’t watch anymore, and dropped his head back down, wishing with all his might that he could be anywhere else in the world right now. It hadn’t really occurred to Merlin that this might mean anything to Arthur, that he could actually be hurt by a refusal. He was Arthur, for Christ’s sake, he had a million friends, what could one person’s rejection matter to him?
Yet he looked so vulnerable, and for the first time Merlin realized how selfish he had been. He had spent the weekend wallowing in self-pity, only thinking about his own feelings, his own potentially broken heart. He felt like a total prick.
****
Arthur hadn’t slept well Sunday night. All he could do was play out every possible scenario in his head and work out contingency plans for each outcome. If he could think about it rationally, like a footy match or a business deal, then it was easier to keep his emotions under control. This was a maneuver, a negotiation. An offer was made, it would be accepted or rejected, perhaps a counter offer would be put on the table. He would have to be prepared for any eventuality.
By the time Monday morning dawned he was on edge with every muscle primed like he was going into a boxing ring rather than a classroom. As soon as he entered the room he spotted the note sitting in its usual place on his desk and made a bee line for it. He felt a tiny knot in his chest loosen. At least they had bothered to respond, rather than standing him up entirely. It seemed like a hopeful sign. He sat down, dropping his bag hastily and opening the note, not even bothering to check if anyone was watching.
As soon as he read it his heart plummeted.
No, Arthur didn’t understand. Well, alright, maybe a little. If the other person was feeling even a small measure of the nervousness rattling around his ribs, then he could appreciate their hesitancy.
What he wanted to know was why. He knew he wasn’t wrong about there being some sort of connection between them. He had thought himself crazy at first, but it was too strong to ignore now. There had to be something special going on to make him feel this out of sorts from just a few notes. It seemed impossible that the other person couldn’t feel it as well. He felt like he had failed to measure up in some way, to prove himself trustworthy. It felt like a sharp jab to his gut.
Of course, Arthur had planned for this outcome as well, though he had tried not to dwell on it. He knew what he had to do: be polite, apologize for being intrusive, and try to salvage relations. That is what his father would do if a proposal were turned down by a prospective client. He had to at least try to keep the lines of communication open if there were to be any hope of future developments.
He really wasn’t ready to let this go. Even if it wasn’t going to lead anywhere further, which he was having trouble grasping at the moment, he still wanted to hold on to this fragile thread of friendship that felt so much like a lifeline.
Arthur made it through class by schooling his features to be calm and blank, not showing any sign of the roiling emotions underneath. It was something years with his father had taught him well. When class ended he left his reply and gathered his things. And if he lingered just a moment, scanning the classroom with mournful eyes, no one seemed to notice.
****
It felt like the longest two hours Merlin had ever sat through. Really, time needed to make up its mind and settle on a standard rhythm already.
His resolve not to watch Arthur had crumbled after the first few minutes, but when he finally looked up Arthur seemed composed, stoic even. He was watching the professor and scribbling down a few notes, as if nothing had happened at all. Merlin felt foolish for thinking Arthur would be so affected by this. Obviously, it was no big deal for him. Life went on as usual.
And, as usual, there was a note waiting for Merlin after class. He opened it with trepidation.
It was more formal than any of the past notes, but Merlin’s own reply had been rather stiff. It was to be expected, he supposed. He still felt tremendous relief. Arthur was okay with it, they could continue on as they had been. That was exactly what he wanted, right? So he wasn’t sure why he had an ache that felt suspiciously like regret.
Merlin pushed those thoughts away and tried to put his usual smile back in place, but it felt forced. He headed off to the library hoping a little reading would distract him. It was about time he got caught up on homework, anyway.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and shot Gwen a quick text: It went fine, you can stop worrying now. I know you were, don’t deny it.
Her reply came a moment later: I was not worrying…but I already baked your favorite cookies, just in case. You still have to eat them.
Which seemed only fair.
****
Arthur still felt out of sorts Tuesday afternoon, which was why he was complete rubbish in their match against Edwin’s team. Usually, Arthur was the Knights’ star player as well as their leader. He chose their tactics and kept all the members in sync; however, today was a disaster. He had already let numerous passes get intercepted, and missed several wide open goal shots. It wasn’t like Arthur to let anything distract him from the game. When he was on the pitch his mind was in the zone, and nothing mattered but the ball and his teammates. But today it was useless; he couldn’t keep focused long enough to make a solid play.
“Arthur!” Gwaine shouted at him as another pass went zooming by, eagerly grabbed up by an opponent and sent flying back down the field. Arthur sighed, mumbling curses to himself. For once, he just wanted the game to be over.
By the time the final whistle blew they had been thoroughly beaten by a team which shouldn’t have even been a challenge. He could tell the guys were frustrated with the loss, though most of them hid it well. Elyan patted Arthur on the shoulder and mumbled a weak “good game, mate,” before heading off with the others to collect his things.
Gwaine, as usual, was not so diplomatic. “What the hell was that, Arthur? You played like a bloody girl today.” There wasn’t any anger behind the words, though, only frustration and perhaps even a hint of amusement. Arthur could only shake his head and offer a half-hearted apology. It’s not like he could explain to Gwaine why he was so distracted.
Leon threw an arm around Gwaine and led him off to grab some water, giving Arthur a rueful look over his shoulder. Arthur mouthed a silent ‘thanks’ and Leon nodded. He could still hear Gwaine’s boisterous voice as they strode away, recounting every play made today as if it had been an epic battle, leaving Arthur alone with Lance, who was gathering up his things.
“You played well today,” Arthur offered. It was true, Lance had scored two of their three goals, while Arthur had scored none.
Lance smiled meekly, accepting Arthur’s praise without gloating. “It was a tough match,” he replied neutrally, and Arthur was grateful that at least some of his friends had tact. He really wasn’t in the mood for more ribbing.
They gathered their gear in companionable silence, pulling off cleats and shin guards and stuffing everything into their gym bags. Lance reached down to pick up his change of clothes, and his wallet slipped out of the back pocket of his jeans.
Lance’s arms were full so Arthur leaned down to grab it for him. As he picked up the thick leather fold several items tumbled out and Lance laughed apologetically, muttering about how he needed to get himself organized one of these days.
As Arthur gathered up the loose coins and scraps of paper, one item in particular caught his eye. He could see a sliver of a familiar light purple color. It was none of his business, and yet something compelled him to unfold the slip of paper. His jaw almost dropped when he saw it.
Arthur could feel himself gaping, but Lance didn’t notice, continuing to gather up his things, giving Arthur an opportune moment to collect himself.
He tried to put his thoughts in some semblance of logical order: Lance had a note on the same paper his pen pal used. What were the odds that two people used that same note pad? It couldn’t be that common, he was fairy sure it wasn’t sold in any of the campus stores or local shops, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily unique.
He had a sudden wild thought: what if his pen pal was actually Lance? But it was just too absurd and he quickly dismissed it. Beside the fact that Lance wasn’t in his economics class, it just wasn’t in his friend’s nature to be so roundabout and secretive. It couldn’t be Lance, but he had known about the whole pen pal situation right from the start. If he knew the identity of the person he would have said so, wouldn’t he? Lance was a good mate, he had been helping Arthur this whole time.
Still, the paper evidence was hard to ignore. Maybe Lance didn’t know them, but at the very least it might give him some kind of clue as to where his mystery friend shopped. Arthur decided to play it casual and see what he could find out (well, as casual as he could when his brain was going off like a siren and yelling at him that this could be a big fucking deal).
“What’s this?” Arthur asked, holding out the note and hoping Lance didn’t notice the catch in his voice.
Lance turned back, accepting the collected items from Arthur and quickly glancing at the note. “Oh, that. It’s Gwen’s birthday next week, and I have been strictly tasked with the sacred quest of picking up her cake,” he replied with a grin, turning back to pull on his trainers.
Arthur wasn’t sure how to continue without sounding suspicious. “That, uh, that paper, it’s pretty…unusual,” he said, and it didn’t sound nearly as smooth as it had in his head. Fortunately, Lance was too distracted to notice.
“Oh, yeah, Gwen bought that stationery for Merlin last Christmas. A special-order type of thing, I think. Why, you want some too?” he asked playfully, glancing up from his laces, and Arthur tried not to blush.
“Uh, no,” he covered gracelessly, “I thought maybe Morgana would like it. You know, seems…girly, I guess. So, uh, who is Merlin?” That was most definitely the opposite of smooth, and Lance was beginning to notice. He looked at Arthur a little strangely, like he suspected he may be suffering from exhaustion or heat stroke.
“I don’t know if that would really be Morgana’s style,” Lance commented honestly, and Arthur held his breath, afraid he was going to leave it at that and ignore the rest of his question. “She’s not really the ‘cute’ type, is she? But I guess Merlin likes that kind of stuff. Merlin is Gwen’s best mate,” Lance continued, noticing Arthur’s prodding look. He didn’t have a chance to elaborate any further because just then his cell phone vibrated, and he had to rifle through his messy bag to find it, excusing himself hurriedly.
Merlin. His mystery pen pal, the person he’d been imagining and thinking about almost constantly. Finally, he had a name to put to the images in his mind.
But what the hell kind of name was Merlin anyway? How tripped out did you have to be to name your kid after an ancient sorcerer? (Not that Arthur could really poke fingers there, but come on, at least Arthur was normal.)
Then another thought struck Arthur: was it even a guy? Lance hadn’t actually said, had he? People designated all kinds of names as unisex these days, especially the weird ones. Hell, he’d met girls named Ryan and Elliot, there was nothing to say this Merlin was definitely a guy, especially if they were Gwen’s best friend.
Dammit. This really didn’t solve anything, did it? He had a name, but he still didn’t know anything else. At least he could be fairly certain that this Merlin, whoever they were, was his mystery pen pal. Lance had said the paper was a special order. It had to be Merlin.
Of course that raised the issue of whether Lance had known about this all along. The thought that his friend had been lying to him, or at the very least withholding critical information, made him furious. But it was tempered by his current relief and excitement. He would probably have to confront the issue later, but right now he couldn’t dwell on it. Now that he’d finally gotten his wish, there was work to do.
****
Tuesday night Gwen picked Merlin up, practically dragging him from his dorm room. She had decided that they spent far too much time lately moping and thinking about the Arthur Situation. It was really getting pathetic. Now that Merlin was finally in a good mood again (or at least a tolerably happy mood) she was going to make the most of it.
Tuesday nights were Swing Dance nights. It wasn’t a very big or serious club, but for a few hours each week they would doll themselves up, goof off, and have a good time. That was exactly what Merlin needed.
Except that he hated Swing Club (well, he claimed he did, but Gwen was pretty sure most of his complaining was just for show). Merlin wasn’t a natural dancer with his uncanny lack of coordination and ungainly limbs, but Gwen found his efforts endearing, and when he stopped thinking and just went with the music he actually wasn’t half bad. Not nearly as good as Lance, of course, but he had an infectious happiness that made up for a lack of technical skill.
Plus, the boys in the club loved him. They were always begging Gwen to bring Merlin by with her, as often as she could drag him into it. Gwen loved to tease Merlin about it, recounting to Lance how many boys had begged Merlin to dance, and how annoyed the girls were to be left without partners. Merlin usually spent half the night blushing furiously, unsure of what to do with all the attention, but his admirers just seemed to find that even more charming.
“Do we really have to?” Merlin was whining already, dragging his heels as they crossed the quad. Gwen was dressed up in her favorite fluffy poodle skirt, which she had made herself just for club nights. Merlin adamantly refused the full costume she had tried to get him into (though he had accepted the black and white wing tips, which looked completely adorable with the sweater vest she had physically forced on him. She had to admit, she had a bit of an eye for these things.).
“Yes, we have to” she chided in a sing-song voice, pulling him along by their linked arms. “You said you’d make it up to me for the Great Drunken Fiasco of Last Weekend, didn’t you?” she teased.
“You can’t go giving minor incidents like that official names!” Merlin protested, but it was too late.The Great Drunken Fiasco would go down in their college history. Gwen decided she would tell it to her grandchildren someday, when she told them stories about her and Uncle Merlin’s wild young days.
“Besides,” she continued, completely ignoring him, “you need to get out and meet some nice men.”
Merlin settled for discontented grumbling. He had already explained to Gwen a dozen times that they just weren’t his type, but she was convinced this was just because he was hung up on Arthur, and that if he really tried he might fall for one of them after all.
When they reached the small practice hall the music was already blaring and couples were warming up. Heads turned to look as they entered, and Gwen was pretty sure she heard a few delighted squeals (Merlin must have heard them too, because he was blushing already).
Before she could move away to hang up her jacket, Merlin was gripping her tightly by the elbow and whispering in her ear, his face earnest. “Please don’t abandon me tonight,” he begged. “Please. You know what happens!”
Gwen tried not to giggle at his obvious distress. “Oh, come on, Merlin, you know I have to share you. The boys will be so upset if they don’t get a turn!” With a quick mischievous smirk, she disappeared, off to say hello to her friends, leaving Merlin standing in the doorway.
Gwen watched with amusement as the more outgoing of the boys quickly stepped forward to greet him, and Merlin attempted to physically shrink back into the wall. She just knew he was thinking about Harry Potter and wishing he had an invisibility cloak right now. Gwen understood that Merlin was shy, and that it was a little cruel to leave him to the wolves like that, but what Merlin needed was a confidence boost.
All this Arthur nonsense was starting to mess with his head, she could see it. The Merlin she had known all these years had never doubted himself like this. He desperately needed a reminder that there were plenty of guys out there who found him downright irresistible. Sod Arthur bloody Pendragon if he couldn’t see that.
Of course, Gwen knew it wasn’t quite so simple, and Merlin’s feelings ran a lot deeper than a simple crush. It would still do him good, however, to remind himself that there were more men in the world than one arrogant blond; men who would gladly worship him.
The idea wasn’t to overwhelm him, though, so Gwen finally took pity and set off to rescue him, pulling him onto the floor for the next dance. Over the next two hours they danced and laughed until they could barely stand. Merlin seemed to pick the steps up again fairly quickly even though he hadn’t done it in months, and it only took a few songs before he found his rhythm. They attempted a few of the more complicated maneuvers, but gave it up after Merlin nearly dropped Gwen on her head (those stunts were better left to men with a little more brawn, anyway).
By the time the last song ended, they were both sweaty and exhausted and happy. Merlin had even loosened up enough to chat with some of the other club members. Gwen watched him as she gathered their coats; it was good to see that bright smile back on his face and she hoped it would last.
“So,” she asked, as they walked back to the dorms, “not so bad as you made it out to be, huh?”
“It’s not terrible,” he conceded, which Gwen accepted as a fair victory.
“And Michael, he was pretty good. You guys looked good together,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. He laughed, but looked at her reproachfully.
“How many times have I told you not to try and set me up your dance friends? You know it’s strictly off limits,” he chastised, but it didn’t stop her from waggling her eyebrows and making childish kissy noises at him.
“Why do I put up with you?” he asked wistfully, as Gwen entwined her arm with his.
“Oh, I don’t know. Something about your penis liking me?” she giggled, swiftly ducking out of the way of Merlin’s elbow jab.
Gwen was willing to bet it would be a long time before Merlin would touch alcohol again.
****
Arthur arrived at class Wednesday morning with steeled determination. He now knew the name of his pen pal and he just had to find the face that went with it. Arthur had been wanting this moment so badly, to finally find out who his mysterious friend was. At the same time, the prospect was terrifying. He glanced around the room. It could be any of these people, and, to be honest, the thought of some of them made his stomach flop.
Arthur scrambled to his seat just as the professor was calling for attention. He picked up today’s note, glancing at it quickly so he could turn his attention back to the roll.
He laughed softly, but it came out sounding like a nervous giggle. He cleared his throat discreetly and stuck the note in his pocket.
Most of the list of names was just a blur, they meant nothing to Arthur. His ears were trained for one name, the only name that mattered, so the list seemed to be endlessly long today.
“Merlin Emrys,” Professor Smith finally droned, not even looking up from his lectern as a soft “here” sounded from the back of the room.
Arthur swiveled in his seat, entirely too eager to be discreet. He looked just in time to see someone pulling their arm back down, pen in their grip and bored look on their face.
Merlin Emrys.
Well, that answered one question: definitely a guy. Arthur thought he should probably be disappointed. He had always hoped it was a girl, after all, but he was too busy staring to really think much beyond oh my God.
Merlin Emrys was…well, odd was the first word that came to mind. The boy was all angles, with long limbs that folded awkwardly under the short desk, and cheek bones so sharp they almost made him look gaunt. But there was something graceful about his features, his pale skin against his deep black hair and long dark eyelashes that made him look…ethereal. And his ears. Oh, God. Arthur had to cover his mouth to keep from chuckling, because they were just so ridiculous and large, but somehow absolutely adorable, like a little mouse.
As if sensing his scrutiny, Merlin Emrys chose that exact moment to look up right at Arthur. Arthur’s heart almost stopped as he whipped back around in his seat, neck flushing guiltily. But not before he noticed how blue those eyes were, the shade of a stormy sky.
Wait a minute, what the hell? Did he really just think that? Here Arthur was, looking at a guy, and not just any guy, his secret pathetic crush, and he was using sappy comparisons that Lance would definitely approve of. Since when did Arthur think like that? And how was he ignoring the very obvious fact that Merlin was a guy?
Arthur felt himself start to panic as he stared down at his notebook with unseeing eyes. His thoughts were a million miles away (actually, no, they were a couple damn feet away, but it may as well be a million miles for all the good it did him). It was too much to wrap his mind around at the moment. First there was the shock of learning his pen pal’s name, then finding out he was actually a guy, and then, to top it all off, he was one of the most striking people Arthur had even seen. What was his brain supposed to do with all of this information at once?
Like a computer overloaded with data, it chose to take the safest route and shut down before permanent damage could occur. This would definitely require thorough examination and consideration later, but right now it was too much. He couldn’t trust himself not to have some kind of freak out in front of the whole class.
Instead, he tried to focus on the lecture, pointedly ignoring the urge to turn around and refresh his memory, make sure he had all the details right for later examination. Maybe he had been imagining things in his shock, maybe the image in his brain was all wrong, and Merlin was really just an ordinary bloke who happened to catch Arthur off guard.
He made it through the rest of class, scribbling a quick reply note that he knew was lame, but he couldn’t come up with anything clever while his brain was running at 10% capacity. As he gathered his things, he snuck another peek towards the back of the classroom, trying to look casual. No, his brain hadn’t been deceiving him. In fact, that first glimpse hadn’t even registered how plump Merlin’s lips were, or the haphazard way his hair curled around those impossibly endearing ears.
Oh, fuck. He had to get out of the classroom before he did something completely stupid.
He had finally found Merlin Emrys, Mystery Doodler Extraordinaire, but Merlin wasn’t aware that Arthur knew his identity and he had already refused to reveal himself. Arthur couldn’t just go blurting it out and making an ass of himself now. This would require research and planning. He had to know more about this boy named Merlin, as soon as possible.
****
Merlin was feeling good this morning. It seemed things were back on track with Arthur, and he and Gwen had enjoyed themselves last night. His anxiety over the weekend seemed a thing of the past. Right now, life felt pretty much perfect (well, as perfect as his real life where he only spoke to Arthur through notes could get. He certainly wasn’t complaining).
Arthur had opened this morning’s note and chuckled, and Merlin was feeling fairly pleased with himself as Professor Smith called the roll. He answered lazily, as usual, briefly disrupting work on his latest drawing (this time it was prehistoric scene, featuring a face-off between a T-Rex and a Stegosaurus. Merlin couldn’t decide who to put his money on.). Then he had glanced up at Arthur, as he did periodically throughout class, expecting to find him pouring studiously over his notes. Instead, he found sky blue eyes staring right into his own.
Merlin blinked, thinking he was imagining things. Maybe he had spent so much time daydreaming that he was starting to lose his grip on reality. Maybe he had actually fallen asleep at his desk, or was still in his bed dreaming and none of this was real at all, because Arthur was looking right at him, with something like shock. Merlin had no idea what to make of it, and he could feel a hot blush spreading across his cheeks.
Arthur turned back around quickly, as if he were embarrassed at being caught, though that didn’t make any sense. Arthur had no reason to be looking at him, never mind any reason to feel awkward about it.
After a couple minutes, Merlin had almost convinced himself that he had imagined the whole thing. Arthur hadn’t been looking at Merlin at all, he had probably been looking at the girl who sat behind him (while Merlin wasn’t exactly an expert judge of female beauty, she seemed cute enough, in an understated way). Then he had been embarrassed that Merlin had caught him stealing glances. That seemed perfectly plausible.
Arthur didn’t look back again for the rest of the lecture, and Merlin tried to keep himself from wishing with all his might that he would. By the time Merlin had gathered his things at the end of class, Arthur was already gone.
He grabbed the new note, taking a quick glance as he walked out.
It made Merlin giggle, and normally he would be up for a very lengthy debate on the subject. Yet somehow it was a bit disappointing. Merlin didn’t know what he had been expecting. Even if Arthur had accidentally glanced at him, he still had no idea that Merlin was the one leaving the notes.
It had been an entirely disconcerting morning, and Merlin felt in dire need of some strong tea and a little fresh air to clear his head before he let his daydreams run away with him.
****
Arthur wasn’t sure how to set about learning more about Merlin. The most obvious answer seemed to be to find people who knew him, but that narrowed it down to Gwen and Lance, and he still wasn’t ready to consider Lance’s role in all of this.
So, he took the practical approach and started with the basics. He had a friend who worked in the registrar’s office who owed him a favor. While it was technically all kinds of illegal, his friend pulled Merlin’s non-confidential student file. All Arthur learned was that he was a literature major, a member of the gaming club, and in the same year. That wasn’t much to go on.
Arthur wasn’t sure what else to do. He couldn’t just walk around campus describing Merlin and hoping someone might know him. He wasn’t even sure what to do when he found someone who did. What did he want to know anyway?
It was time to face the unpleasant truth: in order to get anywhere, he was going to have to man up and face Lance and finally get everything out in the open.
Arthur caught up with Lance Thursday afternoon after practice. He had a been a bundle of nervous energy all day, just thinking about what he would say. It was definitely going to be awkward, but it had to be done. Lance had a right to tell his side of the story, after all, and if Arthur wanted his help yet again then he was duty bound to listen and at least try to understand.
He grabbed Lance as everyone else was heading back to the dorms and pulled him aside. Leon threw him a questioning glance, but Arthur waved him off, promising to meet him for dinner.
Arthur didn’t want to have this conversation in the open where anyone could hear, but he also wanted to get it over with quickly, without making it a big deal. It was like tearing off a bandage: the quicker it was over with, the less it would hurt. In theory.
Before he could lose his nerve, Arthur blurted out, “I know about Merlin.”
It wasn’t exactly the graceful lead-in he had imagined. He had actually spent quite a bit of time planning out exactly what he was going to say, with a whole speech about friendship and responsibility. So much for that.
Lance just looked blank, and for a moment Arthur thought maybe he had made a mistake. Maybe Merlin had nothing to do with any of this, and he was just running on wild assumptions. He pushed down the panic that thought created and reached in his pocket to pull out one of the notes, holding it out to Lance. He may as well go through with it and find out once and for all. Lance accepted the note with a wary frown, opening it carefully.
“Oh, shit,” Lance breathed out, and Arthur wasn’t sure whether he should be jumping for joy or cursing. Because that meant it was definitely Merlin after all, but it also meant that Lance had known.
“I…” Lance started, waiving the little piece of paper helplessly, like it explained what he was trying to say. “I didn’t know he’d used…and you saw, the other day…oh, shit,” he repeated. It was the most inarticulate Arthur had ever seen him.
“So you knew, the whole time,” Arthur stated, trying to sound certain even though he was still hoping his friend would deny it all.
Lance looked up, meeting Arthur’s eyes with an expression that was at once remorseful and unwavering. “Yes, I knew that Merlin was writing you the notes,” he admitted, handing the paper back to Arthur.
Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair to help him keep control. He didn’t want to blow up in the middle of the athletics field.
“So you knew,” he said, voice flat as he could make it. “You let me pour my heart out to you, you gave me advice, and all this time you knew? You don’t think you could have mentioned that?” he demanded, incredulity creeping into his tone.
Lance stood his ground, never breaking eye contact. “Yes, I knew. You came to me for advice, and as your friend, I gave it to you. No, I didn’t tell you it was Merlin, because he is my friend too, and I would not break his confidence. I never told him anything you said either.” He was earnest and calm, and Arthur didn’t doubt he had the best intentions. It still seemed impossibly thick of Lance to never think to mention something so vital.
“You told me I should take a chance, and look how that turned out. Did you know he would refuse?” Arthur asked, all the displaced bitterness from that disappointment seeping into his voice. He looked at Lance with accusing eyes, wanting an outlet for his frustration.
“No,” Lance said firmly. “And I gave Merlin the same advice that I gave you, because I thought you really would be good for each other. If he chose not to listen that is not my fault.” He remained calm in the face of Arthur’s anger, and it only made Arthur feel childish, like he was throwing a tantrum because things hadn’t gone his way. Morgana would doubtless tell him exactly that.
He sighed, letting some of the anger drain away, as quickly as it had appeared. “So what do I do now?” he asked, feeling helpless.
Lance raised an eyebrow. “You just yelled at me for getting involved, and now you want more advice? You can’t have it both ways, Arthur.” There was annoyance there, but no real anger.
“Yeah, I know,” Arthur chuckled, more at the ridiculousness of it all than any real humor towards the situation. “Please, Lance, I need to find out more about him. He doesn’t want to meet me, but I can’t just give up, not yet.”
Lance scrutinized him closely for a moment, as if sizing him up and coming to a decision. Arthur hadn’t felt a gaze that intense since he had met Vivian’s father for the first time. He wasn’t sure what Lance was looking for, but he seemed to pass muster.
“Alright,” Lance conceded, shaking his head. “I won’t tell you anything about him, since that wouldn’t be fair.” Arthur’s hopes quickly tumbled. “But,” he continued, “I will tell you where to find him, so you can get to know him for yourself. If you’re serious about this-which I hope you are, for both of your sakes-then it’s up to you to make this work.” Arthur nodded. It wasn’t quite the short cut he had hoped for, but it seemed reasonable enough.
“We’ll make a list of the places he hangs out,” Lance continued, throwing an arm around Arthur’s shoulders companionably, a sign that things were right between them again. “Do you have a pen?”
****
Merlin was fairly certain he was finally going crazy.
He had always noticed Arthur around campus before. He couldn’t help it, it was like he was magnetically drawn to him. Whenever he was within a 100 yard radius Merlin’s eyes would seek him out of their own accord, before his brain even had time to process his presence. Now, though, Merlin was seeing him everywhere, and in places he had absolutely no business being.
The first time he noticed Arthur, Merlin was in the library, curled up in his favorite overstuffed chair with a textbook, enjoying the companionable silence of the other students. He always chose this particular back corner because it was cozy and there was a big window which let in the afternoon light. It was a bit out of the way, but that meant that his chair was usually free.
He was trying to make sense of the life cycle of plants (biology, another hellish core class he’d been forced into by Mr. Kilgharrah), when he felt a sudden urge to look up. Not twenty feet away, across the short open aisle between the rows of shelves, was Arthur.
Merlin almost did a double take, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. Arthur never hung out in the library, at least not that Merlin had ever seen. It just wasn’t…well, it wasn’t very Arthur. Yet there he was, with a book open in front of him on the table, elbows resting lazily on either side of it. It was a very large volume, which made Merlin curious to know what it could be.
Just as Merlin was considering this, Arthur looked up and their eyes met. Merlin could feel himself flush instantly, and darted his gaze back down to his book, cursing his genes for giving him such pale skin that gave him away like a giant mood ring. Dammit, Arthur would think he was some kind of weirdo for getting flustered over a few seconds of accidental eye contact. It’s not like he’d been watching him on purpose.
Merlin gave himself a few minutes to calm down, staring blankly at his open textbook until he could feel the heat recede from his cheeks. This time he chanced only a slight glance upward, keeping his head down.
Arthur was still looking at him. Merlin could feel his flush creeping back up, and desperately wanted to lift the sturdy book in front of his face to block any further shame. What the hell was going on? Did he have something on his face? Was there something weird with his outfit today? (He glanced down to check, but it was just faded jeans and an old Star Wars t-shirt. Maybe Arthur was Trek fan?)
When Merlin hazarded a peek several minutes later, Arthur was gone, his seat empty and the book still lying open on the table. Merlin let out a small sigh of relief, sinking down into the chair. He had always secretly wondered what it would be like to be noticed by Arthur Pendragon. Now, he just thought it was intimidating and more than a bit terrifying to be the subject of that intense gaze.
Once Merlin recovered the higher functions of his brain (and a more regular heartbeat), curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to know what it was Arthur had been reading, in a part of the library he never visited. He got up cautiously, checking to see if anyone else noticed, but the few people in the vicinity were absorbed in their work.
Merlin went to the table and peered down at the heavy tome, flipping it closed so he could read the title: The Oxford English Dictionary.
****
The next time he spotted Arthur, Merlin was in his favorite café on campus enjoying a cup of tea and sending his mum a quick email on his laptop.
The shop was small and crowded with the usual afternoon surge of students needing their caffeine fix. Merlin was in the corner at a small two-seater table he had managed to snag through vigilance and perseverance (another one of Merlin’s marginally useful ninja skills).
When Arthur walked in, Merlin caught the flash of blond hair out of the corner of his eye. He turned to find Arthur surveying the small café, obviously a bit overwhelmed by the crowd. Merlin ducked his head quickly to avoid the awkward eye contact of last time. He didn’t want Arthur thinking he was some crazy stalker; they just happened to be in the same places lately, it really wasn’t his fault. The least he could do was not get caught staring again.
He watched discreetly as Arthur ordered a drink, then continued to survey the café carefully. Merlin figured he was probably looking for a seat to open up (which was a long shot, at this time of day). He glanced in Merlin’s direction several times, and Merlin almost had a heart attack at the thought that Arthur might want the open chair across from him. There was no possible way he could keep his cool at that close proximity. He would definitely make an ass of himself somehow, probably in a million ways at once.
Arthur gave one final sweep of the café and then sighed in resignation, taking his drink back outside. Merlin heaved a secret sigh of relief, though he was sad he wouldn’t get a chance to watch Arthur for a while longer. Still, it was much better than making a fool of himself irreparably.
****
It had been a surprisingly stressful couple of days for Arthur. He never thought that getting to know someone could be so bloody hard. Lance had given him the list of Merlin’s favorite hang outs, and he had tracked them down with every intention of confronting Merlin and getting this whole messy business sorted out once and for all.
On his very first attempt he had seen Merlin in the library and had panicked, grabbing the first book he could lay his hands on and trying to look casual. Merlin had spotted him, had caught him staring no less, and Arthur was so unnerved he was almost ready to give the whole thing up right then.
But the way Merlin had blushed when their eyes met had been transfixing. Arthur couldn’t help himself, he just couldn’t look away. It was endearing that Merlin would blush over such a little thing. Maybe Arthur was just used to being stared at, or maybe he was less self-conscious, but being observed seemed to make Merlin embarrassed, and Arthur wanted to know why. The boy should probably be used to being ogled, looking like that. He wanted to know what else would make Merlin blush so charmingly.
After another fifteen minutes of not-so-covert observation Arthur’s resolve to approach Merlin had crumbled. It would have been so easy to just stride up to him and say something smooth, but all Arthur could do was stare. He felt like he was back in elementary school. Eventually he had given it up and fled like a coward. Same with every other time he had managed to find Merlin around campus. He had been able to learn a few things despite his overall failure, however.
He knew that Merlin liked to read (though that seemed obvious, since he was a lit major, after all), and he liked to lay in the grass on the quad and listen to his iPod. He learned that Merlin was exceedingly polite: holding doors for strangers, thanking people with a smile, all of the little things so many people seemed to take for granted. He noticed that Merlin chewed on his bottom lip while he was concentrating, and that he liked to tap his feet to some rhythm only he could hear. None of that was really all that useful, but it made Arthur inexplicably happy. This really hadn’t been the plan, though. Arthur hadn’t intended to become some kind of amateur stalker. He was supposed to confront Merlin and get to the bottom of this. Maybe they would come out friends, he had hoped.
Only now that wasn’t enough. The more Arthur watched Merlin, the more he wanted to be a part of his life, to get to talk and laugh and smile with him. He wanted to know what he was reading, what song it was that played inside his head. It was ridiculous. Arthur was falling arse over teakettle for someone he’d still never talked to. And a guy, no less. All of this was unprecedented territory, and Arthur couldn’t just turn to Lance for advice anymore.
When he felt like he couldn’t possibly think any longer without his brain melting, the only answer seemed to be to distract himself completely, at least for a little while.
****
Friday night Arthur headed out to his favorite pub with Leon, Elyan, and Gwaine (Lance had plans with Gwen and Merlin, and Arthur tried to pretend he wasn’t insanely jealous).
A few beers in and Arthur was feeling better, forgetting about his troubles in the wake of his friends’ bawdy tales. Gwaine was in particularly fine form tonight, taking bets on how many people he could convince to kiss him before the night was through. Leon had low-balled his bet at five, Elyan chose a realistic ten, but Gwaine was shooting for no less than twenty. By the end of two beers he was already up to six, and Arthur had no idea how he pulled it off (one had only been on the cheek, and another from a bloke, and the guys were currently arguing over what did and did not count under the Official Rules).
Leon and Elyan took off a short while later, both having things to do the next morning. Arthur stuck around with Gwaine, partly to look after him and make sure he didn’t get himself beaten up, and partly so he could put off going back to his life for a while longer.
As Arthur sipped the dregs of another pint Gwaine toppled himself in the seat next to him, shit-eating grin on his face, and announced he was up to twelve, pointing to a tall man leaning against the bar. Arthur just chuckled into his glass. “You do realize that one’s a man, don’t you? Or are you so drunk you thought she was just very tall?”
Gwaine laughed good naturedly and slapped him on the back. “I don’t see how it makes much difference, mate, it’s all the same to me,” he said with a smile, pouring himself another drink from their pitcher.
Arthur was fascinated by Gwaine’s easygoing attitude. Normally he might just find it ridiculous, just Gwaine being Gwaine. But in his loosened state Arthur was intrigued. “You really think there’s no difference between fancying a bloke and fancying a girl?” he asked, trying to sound indifferent, though Gwaine was way beyond the point of noticing subtlety anyway.
“Why should there be?” Gwaine replied, still smiling. “The parts are a little different, I’ll give you that, but when you’re sliding in it pretty much feels-“
“Oh, God, I didn’t mean that,” Arthur interrupted with a splutter, trying to keep the lager he’d been sipping from going the wrong way down his windpipe.
Gwaine stopped to consider, stroking his chin stubble like he was deep in thought. “Then I have no idea what you mean,” he finally admitted, his stupid smile back.
Arthur just groaned. Why would he even try to have a serious conversation with Gwaine, of all people, especially when he was three sheets to the wind? He may as well talk to wooden bar top, for all the good it would do him.
Gwaine seemed to sense that there was something on Arthur’s mind because a moment later he looked much more sober. It was uncanny how he managed to do that, and Arthur sometimes thought the drunkenness was really just an elaborate act.
“Something on your mind, mate?” he asked quietly, leaning in towards Arthur over the small table.
Arthur rubbed at his eyes, considering whether he really wanted to have this conversation with Gwaine right now. Then again, it’s not like he had anyone else to talk to.
“Have you ever been…attracted to a bloke? And I mean more than just snogging him in a bar,” Arthur added with a rueful smile that made Gwanie laugh.
“Sure I have,” Gwaine replied, taking a firm grip on Arthur’s shoulder so he could look him in the eye. “I meant what I said, it’s no different with a man or woman. Love, sex, whatever, it works pretty much the same, whoever you’re with. Don’t get so uptight about it, prissy boy,” he chided, whacking Arthur gruffly on the back of the head, making him splutter again.
Gwaine leaned forward conspiratorially, voice a stage whisper. “If you want to try it, I’d be happy to show you the ropes,” he offered with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.
Arthur laughed, pushing him away, and Gwaine just shrugged, grinning like a loon. “Fine,” he said, pretending to be offended, “don’t say I never offered to help a friend.” Arthur reached to whack him round the head, but Gwaine ducked out of the way rather nimbly for someone so sloshed.
“Look, mate,” Gwaine said, standing up and pulling Arthur with him, heading towards the bar, “don’t think I haven’t noticed how worked up you’ve been lately. I may not be the most astute bloke, but I’m not blind. Whoever it is that’s got you tied in knots, don’t think so hard about it. Just give it a go, yeah? Now stop being such a girl and come take a shot with me already.”
Arthur drained his pint and followed behind without objection. Maybe it was just the influence of the alcohol, but Gwaine seemed to have a valid point (that alone was probably proof that he was on the wrong side of tipsy). But he was right, there was no point in over-thinking things or getting caught up in the silly details. So Merlin was a bloke. He was also attractive and kind and funny. Arthur would be an idiot not to at least give it a try. Like Gwaine said, it would work itself out.
Arthur sealed his resolve with the shot of tequila Gwaine handed him, cringing as it burned his throat. That was one decision made, anyway. Now he just had to figure out how to go about it.
TBC!
sorry guys, just one last cliffhanger! but CHAPTER 5 IS ALMOST DONE! it should be up next week, so stay tuned!
p.s. a totally random note- I know Merlin changes and matures a lot physically throughout the three seasons. so for people like me, who get curious about totally pointless details, this is the Merlin I had in mind when I was describing him:
I LOVE waifish, scruffy-haired Merlin so much <3 so yeah, just a random fun fact. and an excuse to post some pretty :D
Thanks again to everyone who has read/commented so far. I love you allllll.
ETA: Chapter 5
banner made by ontinia
Title: Heartbreak, Secret Friends, and Stupid Doodles (4/5)
Beta: maybelater__
Official Cheerleader/Jedi Master: rufflefeather
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen/Lance
Rating: still PG, dammit!
Warnings: a couple curse words, a little (legal) drunkenness
Word Count: approx 9,000 this chp, (24,800 overall so far!)
Summary: Modern uni AU: Merlin has a secret crush on Arthur, who has no idea who he is. When Arthur has a bad break up, Merlin takes it upon himself to cheer him up. Secretly, of course.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to rufflefeather, who put up with my whining the entire way through, and helped sort out the plot points for the rest of the story. she basically deserves co-author credit for this chapter, and I couldn't have gotten through it without her (YOU ARE THE OBI-WAN TO MY ANAKIN, BB. except for the whole turning-to-the-dark-side thing. but the rest, totally.).
and to maybelater__, who took the time to clean this up even though she's been super busy. YOU ARE MY HERO.
ALSO, you may notice that there is now a final chapter count! YES, there will be one more chapter after this! it feels about time to be wrapping it up, right? I don't want to keep you guys stringing along forever XP ALMOST THERE, stick with me just a little longer!
Past chapters:
Chapter 1 (with further notes and credits)
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Also check out the Masterpost for the Soundtrack, and more gorgeous banners!
Monday morning arrived far too soon for Merlin’s tastes. The weekend seemed like a blur of beer and waffles and too much time spent wallowing in his bed with the sheets pulled over his head, as if that could block out the rest of the world indefinitely. Of course, time had chosen this weekend to speed back up. It figured.
At least he had managed to apologize to Gwen and Lance. The three of them went out for brunch Saturday afternoon and he humbly begged their pardon, while plying them with endless plates of waffles and bacon (a sure way to win Lance’s heart, at least). They both assured Merlin that it was forgiven and forgotten, though Gwen couldn’t resist teasing him about some of the things he had said (he really didn’t remember ranting incoherently about his penis, and since there was no proof, he was going to stick with adamant denial).
With that settled, Lance had tried to steer the conversation back to the Arthur Issue and what Merlin was going to do. They hadn’t exactly been productive Friday night, what with Merlin completely in his cups, but Merlin refused to talk about that anymore. He subtly redirected the conversation to lemurs and the fascinating things he had learned from a recent nature program (Okay, maybe it wasn’t terribly subtle, but they were kind enough to take the hint and let the issue drop. Then again, Gwen was always easily distracted by talk of cute animals.).
Merlin’s mind hadn’t been so accommodating, though, and was constantly reminding him of his looming decision. Much as he tried to numb his brain with endless telly marathons (he’d managed to re-watch the entire Firefly series in a day and a half), the knowledge of that decision was still there, like a persistent itch, niggling at the back of his mind.
Merlin had made his decision. He knew what he had to do, as much as some parts of his mind might seem to disagree. In fact, this whole split-mind thing was starting to become a problem. What would he do when he couldn’t even agree with himself on what to have for lunch? It had to stop.
Merlin dragged himself to class with a level of reluctance generally reserved for doctor visits and awkward family reunions. He had never dreaded going to class so much, even in the midst of exams. Merlin dropped his reply note on Arthur’s desk and slid into his seat, immediately burying his head in his arms. He didn’t want to watch today, but he couldn’t help himself; his eyes were magnetically pulled in Arthur’s direction.
Arthur showed up looking much like Merlin felt, which was a bit shocking. His usual flawless façade was slightly crumpled, like he had been in a rush this morning, or run his hands through his hair a little too vigorously. His brows were wrinkled in an uncharacteristic frown, the lines of his body tense. In fact, he looked downright nervous. Arthur Pendragon nervous about something silly like a note. Merlin was probably reading too much into things; it could be something else entirely that had Arthur on edge this morning, but when Arthur’s eyes fell on the note, he quickened his pace towards the desk and snatched it up eagerly.
Merlin decided he couldn’t watch anymore, and dropped his head back down, wishing with all his might that he could be anywhere else in the world right now. It hadn’t really occurred to Merlin that this might mean anything to Arthur, that he could actually be hurt by a refusal. He was Arthur, for Christ’s sake, he had a million friends, what could one person’s rejection matter to him?
Yet he looked so vulnerable, and for the first time Merlin realized how selfish he had been. He had spent the weekend wallowing in self-pity, only thinking about his own feelings, his own potentially broken heart. He felt like a total prick.
****
Arthur hadn’t slept well Sunday night. All he could do was play out every possible scenario in his head and work out contingency plans for each outcome. If he could think about it rationally, like a footy match or a business deal, then it was easier to keep his emotions under control. This was a maneuver, a negotiation. An offer was made, it would be accepted or rejected, perhaps a counter offer would be put on the table. He would have to be prepared for any eventuality.
By the time Monday morning dawned he was on edge with every muscle primed like he was going into a boxing ring rather than a classroom. As soon as he entered the room he spotted the note sitting in its usual place on his desk and made a bee line for it. He felt a tiny knot in his chest loosen. At least they had bothered to respond, rather than standing him up entirely. It seemed like a hopeful sign. He sat down, dropping his bag hastily and opening the note, not even bothering to check if anyone was watching.
As soon as he read it his heart plummeted.
No, Arthur didn’t understand. Well, alright, maybe a little. If the other person was feeling even a small measure of the nervousness rattling around his ribs, then he could appreciate their hesitancy.
What he wanted to know was why. He knew he wasn’t wrong about there being some sort of connection between them. He had thought himself crazy at first, but it was too strong to ignore now. There had to be something special going on to make him feel this out of sorts from just a few notes. It seemed impossible that the other person couldn’t feel it as well. He felt like he had failed to measure up in some way, to prove himself trustworthy. It felt like a sharp jab to his gut.
Of course, Arthur had planned for this outcome as well, though he had tried not to dwell on it. He knew what he had to do: be polite, apologize for being intrusive, and try to salvage relations. That is what his father would do if a proposal were turned down by a prospective client. He had to at least try to keep the lines of communication open if there were to be any hope of future developments.
He really wasn’t ready to let this go. Even if it wasn’t going to lead anywhere further, which he was having trouble grasping at the moment, he still wanted to hold on to this fragile thread of friendship that felt so much like a lifeline.
Arthur made it through class by schooling his features to be calm and blank, not showing any sign of the roiling emotions underneath. It was something years with his father had taught him well. When class ended he left his reply and gathered his things. And if he lingered just a moment, scanning the classroom with mournful eyes, no one seemed to notice.
****
It felt like the longest two hours Merlin had ever sat through. Really, time needed to make up its mind and settle on a standard rhythm already.
His resolve not to watch Arthur had crumbled after the first few minutes, but when he finally looked up Arthur seemed composed, stoic even. He was watching the professor and scribbling down a few notes, as if nothing had happened at all. Merlin felt foolish for thinking Arthur would be so affected by this. Obviously, it was no big deal for him. Life went on as usual.
And, as usual, there was a note waiting for Merlin after class. He opened it with trepidation.
It was more formal than any of the past notes, but Merlin’s own reply had been rather stiff. It was to be expected, he supposed. He still felt tremendous relief. Arthur was okay with it, they could continue on as they had been. That was exactly what he wanted, right? So he wasn’t sure why he had an ache that felt suspiciously like regret.
Merlin pushed those thoughts away and tried to put his usual smile back in place, but it felt forced. He headed off to the library hoping a little reading would distract him. It was about time he got caught up on homework, anyway.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and shot Gwen a quick text: It went fine, you can stop worrying now. I know you were, don’t deny it.
Her reply came a moment later: I was not worrying…but I already baked your favorite cookies, just in case. You still have to eat them.
Which seemed only fair.
****
Arthur still felt out of sorts Tuesday afternoon, which was why he was complete rubbish in their match against Edwin’s team. Usually, Arthur was the Knights’ star player as well as their leader. He chose their tactics and kept all the members in sync; however, today was a disaster. He had already let numerous passes get intercepted, and missed several wide open goal shots. It wasn’t like Arthur to let anything distract him from the game. When he was on the pitch his mind was in the zone, and nothing mattered but the ball and his teammates. But today it was useless; he couldn’t keep focused long enough to make a solid play.
“Arthur!” Gwaine shouted at him as another pass went zooming by, eagerly grabbed up by an opponent and sent flying back down the field. Arthur sighed, mumbling curses to himself. For once, he just wanted the game to be over.
By the time the final whistle blew they had been thoroughly beaten by a team which shouldn’t have even been a challenge. He could tell the guys were frustrated with the loss, though most of them hid it well. Elyan patted Arthur on the shoulder and mumbled a weak “good game, mate,” before heading off with the others to collect his things.
Gwaine, as usual, was not so diplomatic. “What the hell was that, Arthur? You played like a bloody girl today.” There wasn’t any anger behind the words, though, only frustration and perhaps even a hint of amusement. Arthur could only shake his head and offer a half-hearted apology. It’s not like he could explain to Gwaine why he was so distracted.
Leon threw an arm around Gwaine and led him off to grab some water, giving Arthur a rueful look over his shoulder. Arthur mouthed a silent ‘thanks’ and Leon nodded. He could still hear Gwaine’s boisterous voice as they strode away, recounting every play made today as if it had been an epic battle, leaving Arthur alone with Lance, who was gathering up his things.
“You played well today,” Arthur offered. It was true, Lance had scored two of their three goals, while Arthur had scored none.
Lance smiled meekly, accepting Arthur’s praise without gloating. “It was a tough match,” he replied neutrally, and Arthur was grateful that at least some of his friends had tact. He really wasn’t in the mood for more ribbing.
They gathered their gear in companionable silence, pulling off cleats and shin guards and stuffing everything into their gym bags. Lance reached down to pick up his change of clothes, and his wallet slipped out of the back pocket of his jeans.
Lance’s arms were full so Arthur leaned down to grab it for him. As he picked up the thick leather fold several items tumbled out and Lance laughed apologetically, muttering about how he needed to get himself organized one of these days.
As Arthur gathered up the loose coins and scraps of paper, one item in particular caught his eye. He could see a sliver of a familiar light purple color. It was none of his business, and yet something compelled him to unfold the slip of paper. His jaw almost dropped when he saw it.
Arthur could feel himself gaping, but Lance didn’t notice, continuing to gather up his things, giving Arthur an opportune moment to collect himself.
He tried to put his thoughts in some semblance of logical order: Lance had a note on the same paper his pen pal used. What were the odds that two people used that same note pad? It couldn’t be that common, he was fairy sure it wasn’t sold in any of the campus stores or local shops, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily unique.
He had a sudden wild thought: what if his pen pal was actually Lance? But it was just too absurd and he quickly dismissed it. Beside the fact that Lance wasn’t in his economics class, it just wasn’t in his friend’s nature to be so roundabout and secretive. It couldn’t be Lance, but he had known about the whole pen pal situation right from the start. If he knew the identity of the person he would have said so, wouldn’t he? Lance was a good mate, he had been helping Arthur this whole time.
Still, the paper evidence was hard to ignore. Maybe Lance didn’t know them, but at the very least it might give him some kind of clue as to where his mystery friend shopped. Arthur decided to play it casual and see what he could find out (well, as casual as he could when his brain was going off like a siren and yelling at him that this could be a big fucking deal).
“What’s this?” Arthur asked, holding out the note and hoping Lance didn’t notice the catch in his voice.
Lance turned back, accepting the collected items from Arthur and quickly glancing at the note. “Oh, that. It’s Gwen’s birthday next week, and I have been strictly tasked with the sacred quest of picking up her cake,” he replied with a grin, turning back to pull on his trainers.
Arthur wasn’t sure how to continue without sounding suspicious. “That, uh, that paper, it’s pretty…unusual,” he said, and it didn’t sound nearly as smooth as it had in his head. Fortunately, Lance was too distracted to notice.
“Oh, yeah, Gwen bought that stationery for Merlin last Christmas. A special-order type of thing, I think. Why, you want some too?” he asked playfully, glancing up from his laces, and Arthur tried not to blush.
“Uh, no,” he covered gracelessly, “I thought maybe Morgana would like it. You know, seems…girly, I guess. So, uh, who is Merlin?” That was most definitely the opposite of smooth, and Lance was beginning to notice. He looked at Arthur a little strangely, like he suspected he may be suffering from exhaustion or heat stroke.
“I don’t know if that would really be Morgana’s style,” Lance commented honestly, and Arthur held his breath, afraid he was going to leave it at that and ignore the rest of his question. “She’s not really the ‘cute’ type, is she? But I guess Merlin likes that kind of stuff. Merlin is Gwen’s best mate,” Lance continued, noticing Arthur’s prodding look. He didn’t have a chance to elaborate any further because just then his cell phone vibrated, and he had to rifle through his messy bag to find it, excusing himself hurriedly.
Merlin. His mystery pen pal, the person he’d been imagining and thinking about almost constantly. Finally, he had a name to put to the images in his mind.
But what the hell kind of name was Merlin anyway? How tripped out did you have to be to name your kid after an ancient sorcerer? (Not that Arthur could really poke fingers there, but come on, at least Arthur was normal.)
Then another thought struck Arthur: was it even a guy? Lance hadn’t actually said, had he? People designated all kinds of names as unisex these days, especially the weird ones. Hell, he’d met girls named Ryan and Elliot, there was nothing to say this Merlin was definitely a guy, especially if they were Gwen’s best friend.
Dammit. This really didn’t solve anything, did it? He had a name, but he still didn’t know anything else. At least he could be fairly certain that this Merlin, whoever they were, was his mystery pen pal. Lance had said the paper was a special order. It had to be Merlin.
Of course that raised the issue of whether Lance had known about this all along. The thought that his friend had been lying to him, or at the very least withholding critical information, made him furious. But it was tempered by his current relief and excitement. He would probably have to confront the issue later, but right now he couldn’t dwell on it. Now that he’d finally gotten his wish, there was work to do.
****
Tuesday night Gwen picked Merlin up, practically dragging him from his dorm room. She had decided that they spent far too much time lately moping and thinking about the Arthur Situation. It was really getting pathetic. Now that Merlin was finally in a good mood again (or at least a tolerably happy mood) she was going to make the most of it.
Tuesday nights were Swing Dance nights. It wasn’t a very big or serious club, but for a few hours each week they would doll themselves up, goof off, and have a good time. That was exactly what Merlin needed.
Except that he hated Swing Club (well, he claimed he did, but Gwen was pretty sure most of his complaining was just for show). Merlin wasn’t a natural dancer with his uncanny lack of coordination and ungainly limbs, but Gwen found his efforts endearing, and when he stopped thinking and just went with the music he actually wasn’t half bad. Not nearly as good as Lance, of course, but he had an infectious happiness that made up for a lack of technical skill.
Plus, the boys in the club loved him. They were always begging Gwen to bring Merlin by with her, as often as she could drag him into it. Gwen loved to tease Merlin about it, recounting to Lance how many boys had begged Merlin to dance, and how annoyed the girls were to be left without partners. Merlin usually spent half the night blushing furiously, unsure of what to do with all the attention, but his admirers just seemed to find that even more charming.
“Do we really have to?” Merlin was whining already, dragging his heels as they crossed the quad. Gwen was dressed up in her favorite fluffy poodle skirt, which she had made herself just for club nights. Merlin adamantly refused the full costume she had tried to get him into (though he had accepted the black and white wing tips, which looked completely adorable with the sweater vest she had physically forced on him. She had to admit, she had a bit of an eye for these things.).
“Yes, we have to” she chided in a sing-song voice, pulling him along by their linked arms. “You said you’d make it up to me for the Great Drunken Fiasco of Last Weekend, didn’t you?” she teased.
“You can’t go giving minor incidents like that official names!” Merlin protested, but it was too late.The Great Drunken Fiasco would go down in their college history. Gwen decided she would tell it to her grandchildren someday, when she told them stories about her and Uncle Merlin’s wild young days.
“Besides,” she continued, completely ignoring him, “you need to get out and meet some nice men.”
Merlin settled for discontented grumbling. He had already explained to Gwen a dozen times that they just weren’t his type, but she was convinced this was just because he was hung up on Arthur, and that if he really tried he might fall for one of them after all.
When they reached the small practice hall the music was already blaring and couples were warming up. Heads turned to look as they entered, and Gwen was pretty sure she heard a few delighted squeals (Merlin must have heard them too, because he was blushing already).
Before she could move away to hang up her jacket, Merlin was gripping her tightly by the elbow and whispering in her ear, his face earnest. “Please don’t abandon me tonight,” he begged. “Please. You know what happens!”
Gwen tried not to giggle at his obvious distress. “Oh, come on, Merlin, you know I have to share you. The boys will be so upset if they don’t get a turn!” With a quick mischievous smirk, she disappeared, off to say hello to her friends, leaving Merlin standing in the doorway.
Gwen watched with amusement as the more outgoing of the boys quickly stepped forward to greet him, and Merlin attempted to physically shrink back into the wall. She just knew he was thinking about Harry Potter and wishing he had an invisibility cloak right now. Gwen understood that Merlin was shy, and that it was a little cruel to leave him to the wolves like that, but what Merlin needed was a confidence boost.
All this Arthur nonsense was starting to mess with his head, she could see it. The Merlin she had known all these years had never doubted himself like this. He desperately needed a reminder that there were plenty of guys out there who found him downright irresistible. Sod Arthur bloody Pendragon if he couldn’t see that.
Of course, Gwen knew it wasn’t quite so simple, and Merlin’s feelings ran a lot deeper than a simple crush. It would still do him good, however, to remind himself that there were more men in the world than one arrogant blond; men who would gladly worship him.
The idea wasn’t to overwhelm him, though, so Gwen finally took pity and set off to rescue him, pulling him onto the floor for the next dance. Over the next two hours they danced and laughed until they could barely stand. Merlin seemed to pick the steps up again fairly quickly even though he hadn’t done it in months, and it only took a few songs before he found his rhythm. They attempted a few of the more complicated maneuvers, but gave it up after Merlin nearly dropped Gwen on her head (those stunts were better left to men with a little more brawn, anyway).
By the time the last song ended, they were both sweaty and exhausted and happy. Merlin had even loosened up enough to chat with some of the other club members. Gwen watched him as she gathered their coats; it was good to see that bright smile back on his face and she hoped it would last.
“So,” she asked, as they walked back to the dorms, “not so bad as you made it out to be, huh?”
“It’s not terrible,” he conceded, which Gwen accepted as a fair victory.
“And Michael, he was pretty good. You guys looked good together,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. He laughed, but looked at her reproachfully.
“How many times have I told you not to try and set me up your dance friends? You know it’s strictly off limits,” he chastised, but it didn’t stop her from waggling her eyebrows and making childish kissy noises at him.
“Why do I put up with you?” he asked wistfully, as Gwen entwined her arm with his.
“Oh, I don’t know. Something about your penis liking me?” she giggled, swiftly ducking out of the way of Merlin’s elbow jab.
Gwen was willing to bet it would be a long time before Merlin would touch alcohol again.
****
Arthur arrived at class Wednesday morning with steeled determination. He now knew the name of his pen pal and he just had to find the face that went with it. Arthur had been wanting this moment so badly, to finally find out who his mysterious friend was. At the same time, the prospect was terrifying. He glanced around the room. It could be any of these people, and, to be honest, the thought of some of them made his stomach flop.
Arthur scrambled to his seat just as the professor was calling for attention. He picked up today’s note, glancing at it quickly so he could turn his attention back to the roll.
He laughed softly, but it came out sounding like a nervous giggle. He cleared his throat discreetly and stuck the note in his pocket.
Most of the list of names was just a blur, they meant nothing to Arthur. His ears were trained for one name, the only name that mattered, so the list seemed to be endlessly long today.
“Merlin Emrys,” Professor Smith finally droned, not even looking up from his lectern as a soft “here” sounded from the back of the room.
Arthur swiveled in his seat, entirely too eager to be discreet. He looked just in time to see someone pulling their arm back down, pen in their grip and bored look on their face.
Merlin Emrys.
Well, that answered one question: definitely a guy. Arthur thought he should probably be disappointed. He had always hoped it was a girl, after all, but he was too busy staring to really think much beyond oh my God.
Merlin Emrys was…well, odd was the first word that came to mind. The boy was all angles, with long limbs that folded awkwardly under the short desk, and cheek bones so sharp they almost made him look gaunt. But there was something graceful about his features, his pale skin against his deep black hair and long dark eyelashes that made him look…ethereal. And his ears. Oh, God. Arthur had to cover his mouth to keep from chuckling, because they were just so ridiculous and large, but somehow absolutely adorable, like a little mouse.
As if sensing his scrutiny, Merlin Emrys chose that exact moment to look up right at Arthur. Arthur’s heart almost stopped as he whipped back around in his seat, neck flushing guiltily. But not before he noticed how blue those eyes were, the shade of a stormy sky.
Wait a minute, what the hell? Did he really just think that? Here Arthur was, looking at a guy, and not just any guy, his secret pathetic crush, and he was using sappy comparisons that Lance would definitely approve of. Since when did Arthur think like that? And how was he ignoring the very obvious fact that Merlin was a guy?
Arthur felt himself start to panic as he stared down at his notebook with unseeing eyes. His thoughts were a million miles away (actually, no, they were a couple damn feet away, but it may as well be a million miles for all the good it did him). It was too much to wrap his mind around at the moment. First there was the shock of learning his pen pal’s name, then finding out he was actually a guy, and then, to top it all off, he was one of the most striking people Arthur had even seen. What was his brain supposed to do with all of this information at once?
Like a computer overloaded with data, it chose to take the safest route and shut down before permanent damage could occur. This would definitely require thorough examination and consideration later, but right now it was too much. He couldn’t trust himself not to have some kind of freak out in front of the whole class.
Instead, he tried to focus on the lecture, pointedly ignoring the urge to turn around and refresh his memory, make sure he had all the details right for later examination. Maybe he had been imagining things in his shock, maybe the image in his brain was all wrong, and Merlin was really just an ordinary bloke who happened to catch Arthur off guard.
He made it through the rest of class, scribbling a quick reply note that he knew was lame, but he couldn’t come up with anything clever while his brain was running at 10% capacity. As he gathered his things, he snuck another peek towards the back of the classroom, trying to look casual. No, his brain hadn’t been deceiving him. In fact, that first glimpse hadn’t even registered how plump Merlin’s lips were, or the haphazard way his hair curled around those impossibly endearing ears.
Oh, fuck. He had to get out of the classroom before he did something completely stupid.
He had finally found Merlin Emrys, Mystery Doodler Extraordinaire, but Merlin wasn’t aware that Arthur knew his identity and he had already refused to reveal himself. Arthur couldn’t just go blurting it out and making an ass of himself now. This would require research and planning. He had to know more about this boy named Merlin, as soon as possible.
****
Merlin was feeling good this morning. It seemed things were back on track with Arthur, and he and Gwen had enjoyed themselves last night. His anxiety over the weekend seemed a thing of the past. Right now, life felt pretty much perfect (well, as perfect as his real life where he only spoke to Arthur through notes could get. He certainly wasn’t complaining).
Arthur had opened this morning’s note and chuckled, and Merlin was feeling fairly pleased with himself as Professor Smith called the roll. He answered lazily, as usual, briefly disrupting work on his latest drawing (this time it was prehistoric scene, featuring a face-off between a T-Rex and a Stegosaurus. Merlin couldn’t decide who to put his money on.). Then he had glanced up at Arthur, as he did periodically throughout class, expecting to find him pouring studiously over his notes. Instead, he found sky blue eyes staring right into his own.
Merlin blinked, thinking he was imagining things. Maybe he had spent so much time daydreaming that he was starting to lose his grip on reality. Maybe he had actually fallen asleep at his desk, or was still in his bed dreaming and none of this was real at all, because Arthur was looking right at him, with something like shock. Merlin had no idea what to make of it, and he could feel a hot blush spreading across his cheeks.
Arthur turned back around quickly, as if he were embarrassed at being caught, though that didn’t make any sense. Arthur had no reason to be looking at him, never mind any reason to feel awkward about it.
After a couple minutes, Merlin had almost convinced himself that he had imagined the whole thing. Arthur hadn’t been looking at Merlin at all, he had probably been looking at the girl who sat behind him (while Merlin wasn’t exactly an expert judge of female beauty, she seemed cute enough, in an understated way). Then he had been embarrassed that Merlin had caught him stealing glances. That seemed perfectly plausible.
Arthur didn’t look back again for the rest of the lecture, and Merlin tried to keep himself from wishing with all his might that he would. By the time Merlin had gathered his things at the end of class, Arthur was already gone.
He grabbed the new note, taking a quick glance as he walked out.
It made Merlin giggle, and normally he would be up for a very lengthy debate on the subject. Yet somehow it was a bit disappointing. Merlin didn’t know what he had been expecting. Even if Arthur had accidentally glanced at him, he still had no idea that Merlin was the one leaving the notes.
It had been an entirely disconcerting morning, and Merlin felt in dire need of some strong tea and a little fresh air to clear his head before he let his daydreams run away with him.
****
Arthur wasn’t sure how to set about learning more about Merlin. The most obvious answer seemed to be to find people who knew him, but that narrowed it down to Gwen and Lance, and he still wasn’t ready to consider Lance’s role in all of this.
So, he took the practical approach and started with the basics. He had a friend who worked in the registrar’s office who owed him a favor. While it was technically all kinds of illegal, his friend pulled Merlin’s non-confidential student file. All Arthur learned was that he was a literature major, a member of the gaming club, and in the same year. That wasn’t much to go on.
Arthur wasn’t sure what else to do. He couldn’t just walk around campus describing Merlin and hoping someone might know him. He wasn’t even sure what to do when he found someone who did. What did he want to know anyway?
It was time to face the unpleasant truth: in order to get anywhere, he was going to have to man up and face Lance and finally get everything out in the open.
Arthur caught up with Lance Thursday afternoon after practice. He had a been a bundle of nervous energy all day, just thinking about what he would say. It was definitely going to be awkward, but it had to be done. Lance had a right to tell his side of the story, after all, and if Arthur wanted his help yet again then he was duty bound to listen and at least try to understand.
He grabbed Lance as everyone else was heading back to the dorms and pulled him aside. Leon threw him a questioning glance, but Arthur waved him off, promising to meet him for dinner.
Arthur didn’t want to have this conversation in the open where anyone could hear, but he also wanted to get it over with quickly, without making it a big deal. It was like tearing off a bandage: the quicker it was over with, the less it would hurt. In theory.
Before he could lose his nerve, Arthur blurted out, “I know about Merlin.”
It wasn’t exactly the graceful lead-in he had imagined. He had actually spent quite a bit of time planning out exactly what he was going to say, with a whole speech about friendship and responsibility. So much for that.
Lance just looked blank, and for a moment Arthur thought maybe he had made a mistake. Maybe Merlin had nothing to do with any of this, and he was just running on wild assumptions. He pushed down the panic that thought created and reached in his pocket to pull out one of the notes, holding it out to Lance. He may as well go through with it and find out once and for all. Lance accepted the note with a wary frown, opening it carefully.
“Oh, shit,” Lance breathed out, and Arthur wasn’t sure whether he should be jumping for joy or cursing. Because that meant it was definitely Merlin after all, but it also meant that Lance had known.
“I…” Lance started, waiving the little piece of paper helplessly, like it explained what he was trying to say. “I didn’t know he’d used…and you saw, the other day…oh, shit,” he repeated. It was the most inarticulate Arthur had ever seen him.
“So you knew, the whole time,” Arthur stated, trying to sound certain even though he was still hoping his friend would deny it all.
Lance looked up, meeting Arthur’s eyes with an expression that was at once remorseful and unwavering. “Yes, I knew that Merlin was writing you the notes,” he admitted, handing the paper back to Arthur.
Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair to help him keep control. He didn’t want to blow up in the middle of the athletics field.
“So you knew,” he said, voice flat as he could make it. “You let me pour my heart out to you, you gave me advice, and all this time you knew? You don’t think you could have mentioned that?” he demanded, incredulity creeping into his tone.
Lance stood his ground, never breaking eye contact. “Yes, I knew. You came to me for advice, and as your friend, I gave it to you. No, I didn’t tell you it was Merlin, because he is my friend too, and I would not break his confidence. I never told him anything you said either.” He was earnest and calm, and Arthur didn’t doubt he had the best intentions. It still seemed impossibly thick of Lance to never think to mention something so vital.
“You told me I should take a chance, and look how that turned out. Did you know he would refuse?” Arthur asked, all the displaced bitterness from that disappointment seeping into his voice. He looked at Lance with accusing eyes, wanting an outlet for his frustration.
“No,” Lance said firmly. “And I gave Merlin the same advice that I gave you, because I thought you really would be good for each other. If he chose not to listen that is not my fault.” He remained calm in the face of Arthur’s anger, and it only made Arthur feel childish, like he was throwing a tantrum because things hadn’t gone his way. Morgana would doubtless tell him exactly that.
He sighed, letting some of the anger drain away, as quickly as it had appeared. “So what do I do now?” he asked, feeling helpless.
Lance raised an eyebrow. “You just yelled at me for getting involved, and now you want more advice? You can’t have it both ways, Arthur.” There was annoyance there, but no real anger.
“Yeah, I know,” Arthur chuckled, more at the ridiculousness of it all than any real humor towards the situation. “Please, Lance, I need to find out more about him. He doesn’t want to meet me, but I can’t just give up, not yet.”
Lance scrutinized him closely for a moment, as if sizing him up and coming to a decision. Arthur hadn’t felt a gaze that intense since he had met Vivian’s father for the first time. He wasn’t sure what Lance was looking for, but he seemed to pass muster.
“Alright,” Lance conceded, shaking his head. “I won’t tell you anything about him, since that wouldn’t be fair.” Arthur’s hopes quickly tumbled. “But,” he continued, “I will tell you where to find him, so you can get to know him for yourself. If you’re serious about this-which I hope you are, for both of your sakes-then it’s up to you to make this work.” Arthur nodded. It wasn’t quite the short cut he had hoped for, but it seemed reasonable enough.
“We’ll make a list of the places he hangs out,” Lance continued, throwing an arm around Arthur’s shoulders companionably, a sign that things were right between them again. “Do you have a pen?”
****
Merlin was fairly certain he was finally going crazy.
He had always noticed Arthur around campus before. He couldn’t help it, it was like he was magnetically drawn to him. Whenever he was within a 100 yard radius Merlin’s eyes would seek him out of their own accord, before his brain even had time to process his presence. Now, though, Merlin was seeing him everywhere, and in places he had absolutely no business being.
The first time he noticed Arthur, Merlin was in the library, curled up in his favorite overstuffed chair with a textbook, enjoying the companionable silence of the other students. He always chose this particular back corner because it was cozy and there was a big window which let in the afternoon light. It was a bit out of the way, but that meant that his chair was usually free.
He was trying to make sense of the life cycle of plants (biology, another hellish core class he’d been forced into by Mr. Kilgharrah), when he felt a sudden urge to look up. Not twenty feet away, across the short open aisle between the rows of shelves, was Arthur.
Merlin almost did a double take, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. Arthur never hung out in the library, at least not that Merlin had ever seen. It just wasn’t…well, it wasn’t very Arthur. Yet there he was, with a book open in front of him on the table, elbows resting lazily on either side of it. It was a very large volume, which made Merlin curious to know what it could be.
Just as Merlin was considering this, Arthur looked up and their eyes met. Merlin could feel himself flush instantly, and darted his gaze back down to his book, cursing his genes for giving him such pale skin that gave him away like a giant mood ring. Dammit, Arthur would think he was some kind of weirdo for getting flustered over a few seconds of accidental eye contact. It’s not like he’d been watching him on purpose.
Merlin gave himself a few minutes to calm down, staring blankly at his open textbook until he could feel the heat recede from his cheeks. This time he chanced only a slight glance upward, keeping his head down.
Arthur was still looking at him. Merlin could feel his flush creeping back up, and desperately wanted to lift the sturdy book in front of his face to block any further shame. What the hell was going on? Did he have something on his face? Was there something weird with his outfit today? (He glanced down to check, but it was just faded jeans and an old Star Wars t-shirt. Maybe Arthur was Trek fan?)
When Merlin hazarded a peek several minutes later, Arthur was gone, his seat empty and the book still lying open on the table. Merlin let out a small sigh of relief, sinking down into the chair. He had always secretly wondered what it would be like to be noticed by Arthur Pendragon. Now, he just thought it was intimidating and more than a bit terrifying to be the subject of that intense gaze.
Once Merlin recovered the higher functions of his brain (and a more regular heartbeat), curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to know what it was Arthur had been reading, in a part of the library he never visited. He got up cautiously, checking to see if anyone else noticed, but the few people in the vicinity were absorbed in their work.
Merlin went to the table and peered down at the heavy tome, flipping it closed so he could read the title: The Oxford English Dictionary.
****
The next time he spotted Arthur, Merlin was in his favorite café on campus enjoying a cup of tea and sending his mum a quick email on his laptop.
The shop was small and crowded with the usual afternoon surge of students needing their caffeine fix. Merlin was in the corner at a small two-seater table he had managed to snag through vigilance and perseverance (another one of Merlin’s marginally useful ninja skills).
When Arthur walked in, Merlin caught the flash of blond hair out of the corner of his eye. He turned to find Arthur surveying the small café, obviously a bit overwhelmed by the crowd. Merlin ducked his head quickly to avoid the awkward eye contact of last time. He didn’t want Arthur thinking he was some crazy stalker; they just happened to be in the same places lately, it really wasn’t his fault. The least he could do was not get caught staring again.
He watched discreetly as Arthur ordered a drink, then continued to survey the café carefully. Merlin figured he was probably looking for a seat to open up (which was a long shot, at this time of day). He glanced in Merlin’s direction several times, and Merlin almost had a heart attack at the thought that Arthur might want the open chair across from him. There was no possible way he could keep his cool at that close proximity. He would definitely make an ass of himself somehow, probably in a million ways at once.
Arthur gave one final sweep of the café and then sighed in resignation, taking his drink back outside. Merlin heaved a secret sigh of relief, though he was sad he wouldn’t get a chance to watch Arthur for a while longer. Still, it was much better than making a fool of himself irreparably.
****
It had been a surprisingly stressful couple of days for Arthur. He never thought that getting to know someone could be so bloody hard. Lance had given him the list of Merlin’s favorite hang outs, and he had tracked them down with every intention of confronting Merlin and getting this whole messy business sorted out once and for all.
On his very first attempt he had seen Merlin in the library and had panicked, grabbing the first book he could lay his hands on and trying to look casual. Merlin had spotted him, had caught him staring no less, and Arthur was so unnerved he was almost ready to give the whole thing up right then.
But the way Merlin had blushed when their eyes met had been transfixing. Arthur couldn’t help himself, he just couldn’t look away. It was endearing that Merlin would blush over such a little thing. Maybe Arthur was just used to being stared at, or maybe he was less self-conscious, but being observed seemed to make Merlin embarrassed, and Arthur wanted to know why. The boy should probably be used to being ogled, looking like that. He wanted to know what else would make Merlin blush so charmingly.
After another fifteen minutes of not-so-covert observation Arthur’s resolve to approach Merlin had crumbled. It would have been so easy to just stride up to him and say something smooth, but all Arthur could do was stare. He felt like he was back in elementary school. Eventually he had given it up and fled like a coward. Same with every other time he had managed to find Merlin around campus. He had been able to learn a few things despite his overall failure, however.
He knew that Merlin liked to read (though that seemed obvious, since he was a lit major, after all), and he liked to lay in the grass on the quad and listen to his iPod. He learned that Merlin was exceedingly polite: holding doors for strangers, thanking people with a smile, all of the little things so many people seemed to take for granted. He noticed that Merlin chewed on his bottom lip while he was concentrating, and that he liked to tap his feet to some rhythm only he could hear. None of that was really all that useful, but it made Arthur inexplicably happy. This really hadn’t been the plan, though. Arthur hadn’t intended to become some kind of amateur stalker. He was supposed to confront Merlin and get to the bottom of this. Maybe they would come out friends, he had hoped.
Only now that wasn’t enough. The more Arthur watched Merlin, the more he wanted to be a part of his life, to get to talk and laugh and smile with him. He wanted to know what he was reading, what song it was that played inside his head. It was ridiculous. Arthur was falling arse over teakettle for someone he’d still never talked to. And a guy, no less. All of this was unprecedented territory, and Arthur couldn’t just turn to Lance for advice anymore.
When he felt like he couldn’t possibly think any longer without his brain melting, the only answer seemed to be to distract himself completely, at least for a little while.
****
Friday night Arthur headed out to his favorite pub with Leon, Elyan, and Gwaine (Lance had plans with Gwen and Merlin, and Arthur tried to pretend he wasn’t insanely jealous).
A few beers in and Arthur was feeling better, forgetting about his troubles in the wake of his friends’ bawdy tales. Gwaine was in particularly fine form tonight, taking bets on how many people he could convince to kiss him before the night was through. Leon had low-balled his bet at five, Elyan chose a realistic ten, but Gwaine was shooting for no less than twenty. By the end of two beers he was already up to six, and Arthur had no idea how he pulled it off (one had only been on the cheek, and another from a bloke, and the guys were currently arguing over what did and did not count under the Official Rules).
Leon and Elyan took off a short while later, both having things to do the next morning. Arthur stuck around with Gwaine, partly to look after him and make sure he didn’t get himself beaten up, and partly so he could put off going back to his life for a while longer.
As Arthur sipped the dregs of another pint Gwaine toppled himself in the seat next to him, shit-eating grin on his face, and announced he was up to twelve, pointing to a tall man leaning against the bar. Arthur just chuckled into his glass. “You do realize that one’s a man, don’t you? Or are you so drunk you thought she was just very tall?”
Gwaine laughed good naturedly and slapped him on the back. “I don’t see how it makes much difference, mate, it’s all the same to me,” he said with a smile, pouring himself another drink from their pitcher.
Arthur was fascinated by Gwaine’s easygoing attitude. Normally he might just find it ridiculous, just Gwaine being Gwaine. But in his loosened state Arthur was intrigued. “You really think there’s no difference between fancying a bloke and fancying a girl?” he asked, trying to sound indifferent, though Gwaine was way beyond the point of noticing subtlety anyway.
“Why should there be?” Gwaine replied, still smiling. “The parts are a little different, I’ll give you that, but when you’re sliding in it pretty much feels-“
“Oh, God, I didn’t mean that,” Arthur interrupted with a splutter, trying to keep the lager he’d been sipping from going the wrong way down his windpipe.
Gwaine stopped to consider, stroking his chin stubble like he was deep in thought. “Then I have no idea what you mean,” he finally admitted, his stupid smile back.
Arthur just groaned. Why would he even try to have a serious conversation with Gwaine, of all people, especially when he was three sheets to the wind? He may as well talk to wooden bar top, for all the good it would do him.
Gwaine seemed to sense that there was something on Arthur’s mind because a moment later he looked much more sober. It was uncanny how he managed to do that, and Arthur sometimes thought the drunkenness was really just an elaborate act.
“Something on your mind, mate?” he asked quietly, leaning in towards Arthur over the small table.
Arthur rubbed at his eyes, considering whether he really wanted to have this conversation with Gwaine right now. Then again, it’s not like he had anyone else to talk to.
“Have you ever been…attracted to a bloke? And I mean more than just snogging him in a bar,” Arthur added with a rueful smile that made Gwanie laugh.
“Sure I have,” Gwaine replied, taking a firm grip on Arthur’s shoulder so he could look him in the eye. “I meant what I said, it’s no different with a man or woman. Love, sex, whatever, it works pretty much the same, whoever you’re with. Don’t get so uptight about it, prissy boy,” he chided, whacking Arthur gruffly on the back of the head, making him splutter again.
Gwaine leaned forward conspiratorially, voice a stage whisper. “If you want to try it, I’d be happy to show you the ropes,” he offered with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.
Arthur laughed, pushing him away, and Gwaine just shrugged, grinning like a loon. “Fine,” he said, pretending to be offended, “don’t say I never offered to help a friend.” Arthur reached to whack him round the head, but Gwaine ducked out of the way rather nimbly for someone so sloshed.
“Look, mate,” Gwaine said, standing up and pulling Arthur with him, heading towards the bar, “don’t think I haven’t noticed how worked up you’ve been lately. I may not be the most astute bloke, but I’m not blind. Whoever it is that’s got you tied in knots, don’t think so hard about it. Just give it a go, yeah? Now stop being such a girl and come take a shot with me already.”
Arthur drained his pint and followed behind without objection. Maybe it was just the influence of the alcohol, but Gwaine seemed to have a valid point (that alone was probably proof that he was on the wrong side of tipsy). But he was right, there was no point in over-thinking things or getting caught up in the silly details. So Merlin was a bloke. He was also attractive and kind and funny. Arthur would be an idiot not to at least give it a try. Like Gwaine said, it would work itself out.
Arthur sealed his resolve with the shot of tequila Gwaine handed him, cringing as it burned his throat. That was one decision made, anyway. Now he just had to figure out how to go about it.
TBC!
sorry guys, just one last cliffhanger! but CHAPTER 5 IS ALMOST DONE! it should be up next week, so stay tuned!
p.s. a totally random note- I know Merlin changes and matures a lot physically throughout the three seasons. so for people like me, who get curious about totally pointless details, this is the Merlin I had in mind when I was describing him:
I LOVE waifish, scruffy-haired Merlin so much <3 so yeah, just a random fun fact. and an excuse to post some pretty :D
Thanks again to everyone who has read/commented so far. I love you allllll.
ETA: Chapter 5